Saturday, September 10, 2011

Worthing in Full rubber, high-viz and waders.

Sir took His pup for a surprise trip down to Worthing at the last Bank Holiday. i knew something was a-foot when He sent me strict and explicit Instructions to bring my full rubber, waders and high-vis...

I'll let Him describe the visit for once:

The weather was due to be wet, and I knew we had too much gear to carry for the bike, so I decided we would go down in the car. I normally prefer to go by bike, but my pup kept me talking and laughing all the way, and so the journey went quickly – despite diverting via Bognor due to traffic congestion and watching the guys in wet and dry suits, playing with their jet-skis and ‘toys.’  
Once we got to Worthing I got us checked in to our sea-front hotel and had the pup follow me back to the car to pick up the other bags - but then ran up onto the beach and suggested that we "go for a walk on the sand" – to which the pup grinned and barked his ascent. 
Back in the room i think My dog guessed what was really going on when i told him to get into his rubber, waders and hi-Hiz then gave him his own yellow hard-hat (which I had labelled with "Bootbrush") and then walked him out though the hotel and back onto the beach. It felt good to be stomping down the shingle in hard hats and walking out to the waters edge: the rubber warm and tight and our waders heavy. I know we got a couple of looks from people, but the pup couldn't keep the grin of his face or the hide the bulge in his rubber. 
I had timed our arrival with low tide, so we had quite a walk down to the sea's edge. The sea and sky were amazing, and I had the dog take some pictures of us before we clomped along the tide line -  watching the seaweed swaying in the current as the tide started to turn and the water began to rush back up the beach.  All that rushing water made me need a piss - and the dog took a photo as my piss arched into the sea...

We stomped along through rapidly filling rock-pools and finally made our way to the pier itself. It was amazing to see all the ironwork from so close - and so I led my pup under the pier to see the legs and struts covered with debris and barnacles and muscles - and small pebbles with holes and threads that the tide had wrapped about the metalwork. I also had great fun watching my dog finding small fish, crabs and anemones in the various pools - and spotting worm casts and the indentations where razor fish had been.  A couple of times I also noticed the people above us looking down and stopping in surprise to see what they thought were workmen at so late in the day - it's amazing what you can do and where you can go if you put on a high-vis and a hard-hat. 
It felt very special to be sharing that transient place between tides with my dog, and we stopped for quite a while to take several pictures: amongst the metalwork in our wet rubber and heavy boots, and framing the early evening sky and sea ‘neath the decking of the pier. It was both beautiful and perverse: nature in the raw and rubber at its most basic and protective.  

Photos done, I then led us east - past the storm drain outfall – stomping back up the beach. I couldn't help but chuckle at the entire family of four who stood motionless and spellbound as we appeared from underneath the pier: no doubt amazed to see two men in wet shining rubber...  
As we walked back up the beach my dog found a special pebble with two holes in it. It was his little 'good luck' gift to Me - now it sits on the ledge above My desk as a reminder of our special time together.


It was getting late by now and I was hungry, so I led us up off the beach and into town - looking for food, and finally ordering chips and onion rings from one of the sea-front chip-shops: both of us still in rubber and hi viz and waders - my pup snuggled back into me whilst I wrapped my arms around him - knowing that we were scaring the bemused onlookers, but not giving a damn because I was with my dog and I am proud of how freely and openly he shows His love and devotion.  
A bag of warm chips in our hands I led us back to the shore through the Bank Holiday funfair that was being dismantled - grinning at the dodgems and the accompanying music of ‘Dancing Queen.’ 
Back on the beach I found us a little ‘table’ amongst the groins – Fork feeding My dog chips and onion rings, and then knocking over the bottle of drink and splashing him with sticky lemonade. 
As we ate and laughed, the sun slowly set and the illuminations came up on the pier - both fiery sun and shining lights reflecting in the now returned tide. I had My dog turn so that he could sit directly in front of me to watch - my arms around his rubber body as we talked about our adventure on the shore and seeing where we had stood under the pier, now entirely covered by the sea.

Finally I led us back back along the beach with the tide turning; our reflective panels catching the fairground light in the increasing darkness. But now it was time to remove our jackets and go into stealth mode - as I led My dog under the old bandstand, exploring a new structure of vertical and diagonals; the ceiling getting lower and lower as we crunched up the tide driven shingle -  glad that I was wearing my Hard hat when I banged my head on the low beams hidden in the dark.  
At the top of the shingle I turned back - looking out from the darkness at the 200 degree view: mostly of the advancing tide on the sand, but also left and right along the beach with the rows of groins as far as the eye could see with the light from the sea-front lamps lighting the scene. Quietly taking stock of the rusty vertical supports and the low decking above us - checking that we were effectively invisible now in the dark and the damp...  
I rid My dog of his back pack - pulled out heavy industrial long rubber gloves for the both of us: a signal to him of the start of perverted play. His silent obedience was beautiful as he fell to his wadered knees - tongue already hanging from His eager mouth. The sensation of that wet dog tongue on My smooth rubber was amazing as he lapped and licked the bitter rubber - making it slick and slippery and stimulating the Man beneath.

I let him lick and nuzzle for a while, then carefully unzipped my suit and let the dog take his reward: semi hard and smelling of heady rubber and piss and Man; feeling My dog gently taking its Man and the mixed aromas deep into his body - and the bliss of the union of both Man and dog.  
Feeling him quietly bark around my cock at my gently spoken “Good boy” - uttered as a murmur in the silent darkness.  
I could feel his heavy-rubber sheathed ‘paws’ holding the back of My legs - My dog’s tongue on the dorsum of My cock - knew that He could in turn feel the cool smoothness of My gloved hand on the back of his collared neck. He could breath at first, but as My cock swelled I could feel it fill his airway and his breathing became mine to control.  
On his knees at My mercy: under My control as My cock swells to engulf his throat.  
Reluctantly I release him and he gasps. He is only allowed five breaths and then the controlling plug is replaced and he is still. His tongue flickers around My cock and the engorgement increases. I enjoy the extra stimulation. I know that the dog can feel his Man’s buck in response. He is a good dog and his perverted mind yields to the Man's control. Again releasing the dog to breath he takes in the sea air but after five, he is plugged again - and I reward Him once more with a low muttered “Good dog.”
 I keep him there like that - breathing when I allow him, filling him and gagging him when I desire; his obedience and service is perfect and deeply satisfying. 
I feel his paws stroke under My balls, then stroke along My perineum - find the heat of my puckered hole and start to stroke and press against it. His attention stirs my hunger all the more: I reach into the pocket of my rubber jacket and pull out the bottle of lube I have saved for His own hole - reach down to grab his gloved wrist and pull his hand up to me - I can sense his confusion at first as the cool lube spreads over his fingers and hand, then understanding as I guide him back to My hole and tell Him "Good boy - it's OK: Please your Man".  His fingers gently stroke and probe - making sure that he has understood what I am ordering him to do - then gain in confidence and certainty as he feels my cock even harder in his throat. The feel of my pup's fingers teasing and pushing into me - stroking round in circles that match the curl of his tongue around my cock head, then slowly sliding in and out in time to his bobbing head that thrusts me deep into his throat - the feeling is intense and fantastic and it soon pushes me to the point were I *have* to fuck him at last.
I have Him stand up - grab his neck with my gloved hand and push him back to hold him captive against the crossed ironwork of the pier that surrounds us. His face is eery and pale in the darkness, and his eyes deep and black with arousal; I pull him to me and force my tongue into his mouth - I can taste my own precum where it has coated and lubricated his throat. 
I grab his hands, twist him around so that his front is pressed against the bars - he grunts as his rubbered crotch is ground against the struts, tries to turn his head as I reach down to pull the zipper of his suit. His hips push back and his head hangs in surrender as he feels my gloves slowly ease out the plug that keeps his hole sealed and safe: Mine and only Mine. 
Cool lube and heavily rubbered fingers - feeling the heat inside him, and knowing that he must have felt the same when he pushed into Me; teasing his hole - feeling him trying to relax and open up to My command; My dog making itself ready to be fucked by Me and me alone. 
Seeing his rubber body shine as I ease on the rubber-sheath - his arms braced against the iron for purchase as his back arches back towards me in invitation and surrender; His hole is hot and wet around my head as I slowly but mercilessly push myself into Him - feeling for the muscles to clench and then relax - my dog opening up to His man, to His meat. 
I feel his body tremble when I finally push myself fully in - hear his carefully bitten-back whimper; I know that he has to strain to take my full length and size, but it is his hunger to please Me despite his own discomfort that makes him such a good dog to play with. I let him catch his breath - let his muscles relax and get used to this invasion - then slowly start to grind myself down into Him, harder, faster, deeper... letting myself take full control of his body - taking my pleasure from him and from his fully willing surrender. As I fuck him harder I can hear the squeak of our waders where they touch - feel the slap of my balls against the tight rubber of his thighs; the feeling is intoxicating.  
The intensity of my attack on his core makes him growl and grunt and bark - and it only gets louder the harder I fuck him: his animal sounds echoing back to us from the surf and the ironwork. Finally he becomes too vocal and we hear questioning voices above us, the sound of feet crossing the boards and down onto the beach. I make him stand silent whilst I watch someone come to peer under the structure - glad that I had us remove our high-vis and knowing that we are invisible so long as we stay still and quiet. But it's too close a call, and once I hear them walk away I have the dog zip himself up and carefully and silently lead us back out onto the beach.  
It is a breathless Man and dog that finally slip back to the hotel room and fall back onto the bed grinning and laughing - my pup lying sprawled upon my chest. I pull him around so that he is nestled between my legs - and can feel the dog's cock, hard and wet inside the prison of its rubber. He gives a little whine and a helpless little hump, and I know that his doggy-brain is eager to be allowed to cum. I toy with the idea of getting him to sit on my cock, but decide his hole will be too sore and can't face his disappointment with himself if he can't take me again so soon - and so I stroke his head and smile up into his face, give him permission to bring himself off against me: to hump like the true dog that he really is. 
He gives a proper little doggy 'wuff' as he buries his head into the rubber over my chest - his doggy butt wagging as his hips bump against my thigh; I can feel his cock moving, slick and wet within the rubber - hear his animal whines as he loses himself in pure and overwhelming puppy-sensations - and then the spreading heat of his cum as he finally pushes himself over the edge and fills his rubber with a shuddering howl...
I let him snuggle for a while, wrapped in the heady scent of hot wet rubber and post-cum dog - enjoy making him squirm by stroking the rubber over his now sensitive cock head, and the feel of his trapped cum squelching under the thin rubber skin that keeps it and his cock still sealed and insulated: that makes him my rubber pup and pervert. I toy with the idea of making him sleep in the rubber - knowing that will keep him both horny and obedient - but I am tired and know we have an early morning check-out, and so I finally relent and send him scampering for the shower to peel off his layers and ready for bed.

Despite my best intentions, we are both tired and heady in the morning. It's a rough drive home, but I make a stop at Portsdown Hill to show the dog the view over the city and the docks; the clean air and hot tea makes me feel better - but really it is my dog's loving company and the memory of his surrender that makes the drive back so much fun. 
He is a horny and deeply perverted pup - he is all and only Mine, and I know that he loves and obeys Me without question. 
What Master could ever wish for more.

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