Thursday, December 01, 2011
The petrol tank feels cool against my cheek - and through the thin rubber skin stretched tight across my sweating chest and stomach. i can see my breath mist against the metal as i pant and struggle and writhe: frantic and lost in intense pleasure. i place my gloved hands on the handlebars, push my booted feet onto the foot-rests: rear my rubbered haunches up, press myself back harder against my Man - and catch sight of us both where we are reflected in the wing-mirrors...
i am encased in tightly revealing full black rubber: high necked one-piece suit and gloves, thick rubber sheath and cod-piece - even sox encasing my feet within the high rubber riding boots. The tight glossy rubber makes me feel closely contained and utterly controlled, yet it also defines and exposes every twitching muscle, every bulging ache of my arousal. The only scraps of humanity that show through are the black-ringed eyes staring out from within the hood that reshapes my head into that of a dog - and the hot ring of my twitching hole through the arse-zip; but even that is now hidden: pressed up against the furred abs and pubis of my Master so that He can fill my rubbered core with His heat and His hunger.
My glossy black encased body is laid across the silver tank of His Honda Pan European - hugged against the tank and pinioned beneath Him so that it is pressed down hard into the broad leather saddle. With my body wrapped around the machine, my arse is raised high and my hole forced open - filled with HIM - tight and hungry as the pistons that throb and pulse within the engine beneath us. This is His bike - His steed - and He rides me now as He rides it: with unquestioned ease and complete control. Every deep thrust rocks the bike rhythmically forward on its centre stand - and pushes my wrapped and packaged crotch painfully deeper into the leather seat. His gloved hand grasps my neck - just above the silver collar that marks me as His property - forces me back down to the tank and pins my head against the cool metal. In the heat and the hunger i have a mind-twisting vision that my rubbered flesh is somehow merging to the metal and leather and chrome of His bike - and my sheathed cock throbs all the closer to an untouched orgasm at my desire for such total surrender into becoming nothing more than another of His treasured possessions...
He thrusts Himself deep into me - i feel the press of His balls - the rasp of His thickly furred pubic mound against my hole and the smooth grain of His boot leather through the rubber of my thighs. i moan, try to turn my head against the press of His hand - and leave a thin slick trail of saliva against the cool metal. He relents: moves His hands and takes a hold of my waist instead - holding me powerless in His grasp as He pulls me up and back against Him. In response, i clench and tense my deep inner ring of muscle - feel the hot thickness of Him squeezed within me - and hear His explosive gasp of pleasure in return.
He releases my waist - lets me rock forwards on the foot-rests and slide my hole forwards and back along His length - clenching and relaxing as i do so - grinning at His reflected look of pleasure in the mirror before i close my eyes and give myself over to the intensity of this hunger He seeds within me. For a moment i am lost in the feeling of Him inside me - of the pleasure in this fullness, this surrender. My body responds to His intrusion without thought: gently rocks back and forth in a luxurious curve that slides Him along the entire inner bulge of my prostrate - feeling the ridge of His glans as it tweaks the outer ring of muscle, then pushes upwards and forwards into the silky folds of my core. He lies back against the pillion seat - eyes half closed in the sensual pleasure of being served - and i feel the purest of puppish pleasures: to be given the honour of giving Him pleasure with this body that He has trained so carefully and fully...
This is only the end of a perfect session with my Master - a day of living within my rubber, of serving Him with my body in so many ways: plugged and humping on His boot - bathing Him in my spit and giving Him my throat - lying breathless beneath Him, breath and thought both paused and waiting for His permission to start again - of being strapped down and fucked deep upon the fuck bench: legs folded and restrained hard up against my chest as He drilled His hunger down into me and took possession of my soul with His hungry gaze.
i begged then for Him to strap me down into the rubber cuccoon of my sleep-sack - to convert me into nothing more than a rubberised fuck-toy: a double-ended rubber slug of hunger to feed upon His juices and wordlessly beg for Him to jerk it off into rubberised oblivion. But He refused - preferring instead to bring us down here into the garage: onto the bike, this silver steed - His most loved possession and symbol to me of His power.
To act out this long held fantasy of us both, and to have my trembling rubber body up on the pegs, over the saddle: to fuck me and ride me and make me a part of His machine.
All of this flickers through my mind as my body twists and grinds upon Him - perverted fuel for the arousal that builds and burns within the enclosing rubber - oozing from my collar and cuffs and dripping from the edges of my zippered hole...
He lies back and lets me slowly fuck my hole against Him: revels in the feeling of being so deep within the willing core of His perverted rubber pup. i catch His eye in the mirror as He watches the lights glisten and ripple from my glossy skin - and feel myself transformed in the possession i see in His gaze.
i am dog, i am rubber, i am hunger - and i am HIS.
He finally pushes me back against the tank when He feels me rising towards my own puppish orgasm - ignores my whimpers as He slowly draws Himself out from me, and then finally has to command me to relax so that He can pull Himself free from the clinging hold of my despairing ring.
He swings his tall booted leg across and over me - dismounts the bike and His hound, and moves to stand, leather encased legs square upon the cool concrete of the floor - His meat now straining and ready in His gloved hand. He gives the order, and i obediently sink to my knees before Him: hands balled and pressed into the floor like the paws they have now become - my muzzle raised towards Him: open and willing, my tongue hot and wet and pink and ready.
His hand is gentle upon my head as He holds me perfectly still - and His voice is thick with encouragement as i greedily and gratefully receive the gift of His seed.
As we leave the garage - just before He turns out the light - i see Him look back at the chrome and steel of His mechanical steed: i know that he will be thinking of His dog and its hole when He is next out riding: His leathered crotch pressed against the tank, feeling the throb of the engine and remembering how it felt to be fucking His pup - and His machine through it...
When He finally sends me home, i have still not cum - nor do i need to: serving Him has given me more pleasure than any orgasm ever could.