Friday, May 11, 2012

Poole and Worthing - Bikes and riding

Handler took His dog down to the South Coast for the Poole Quay Bike night this week.

The weather was forecast to be fowl, but Sir decided we would chance it on two wheels - although He did text to remind me to bring waterproofs... I also knew that He had been re-reading his dog's perverted stories, so I couldn't help but grin when He then sent a second text to say "And be fuck ready..."

I arrived at His door in my leathers and big-black-boots, my tail painfully plugged and hungry. Even so, I was startled when my knock was answered, not by His usual smiling 'Hello pup!', but by His leather gloved hand roughly clasped to my mouth... He hauled me into the hall and pushed me down onto all fours - then forced my face and muzzle hard into the leather padding of His Dutch Police leathers with a force and hunger that had my head reeling...

He dragged me to my feet, then upstairs and into the playroom, pushed me down to my knees with my head back against the fuck bench - then glowered down at me as I knelt there, gasping and disorientated, staring up at Him with fear and arousal at the sudden strength and power of His hunger.

He bent down - covered my mouth with His in a kiss that was hard and powerful - then held my face into His leathered crotch as He buckled a wide, tight leather collar around my neck. He ordered me to strip off my T-shirt then, so that He could see the inked lines swirl across my arms and chest - then His hands reached down to grab mine, pulled them up behind my back and buckled them into cuffs attached to a broad leather strip that hung down from the collar: restraining me, unbalancing me - and exposing my bare nipples to the pinching grip of His fingers, whilst He pushed my muzzle against His thickly furred chest and ordered me to lick and nip at His own tight nubs of tingling flesh.

He bent me down then - forced my face into His boots and ordered me to worship them like the true perverted boot-pup that I am. Unable to use my hands, I greedily pressed my tongue into the leather - my arse raised high and vulnerable to the stinging crop and smart thwack of His gloved hand against the tight and straining leather. Every strike only made me all the more eager to show Him my thanks and hunger, as I groaned and growled and worked my tongue into every seam and crevice of His beautiful boots. Every groan seemed to power His ever-more percussive strikes - and I was soon sobbing with real pain and release.

He ordered me up - held my neck in His glove and stared down into my face, still wet from my spit and my tears - told me that I was *HIS* and His alone - and then He released my arms from the restraints and ordered me to strip off my jeans and get up onto the bench.

He fucked me hard then, hungry and powerful and totally in control - towering over me and forcing my body down into the leather padding with each forceful thrust. My body was His: overwhelmed and surrendered and utterly powerless - and burning with the heat that His hunger was stoking in me in turn as I surrendered my hole to Him, regardless of the pain as He stabbed deep into me and made me His.


It was quite late when we finally broke free from the burning heat of our shared desire, and hastily retrieved clothes and bike leathers from their scattered abandon - grins on our faces at the unexpected intensity of His hunger and my own twisted pleasure in sating it. But I was quite a saddle sore pup, and I admit that it was not just excitement that made me wiggle about on the pillion seat as we rode down to the South Coast through an unexpectedly beautiful evening.

We talked on the way about the pup's stories, and how they had been the inspiration for His hunger. We also talked through ideas for the current pup-play manual in-progress. The company, the conversation and the warm sun upon the rolling downs made it an incredibly pleasurable journey... (even if the dog had to beg for a 'comfort stop' half way, so that it could hop off the bike and into a garden centre to 're-adjust' the plug in its burning, abused hole).

We finally found our hotel in Bournemouth just as the clouds started to thicken - but the rain wasn't enough to stop us from dropping our bags and heading out to the Quay. It was still early in the season, and not as busy as I have known it, but it was still wonderful to see so many beautiful bikes on display - and so many sexy young guys in their unknowingly perverse gear... I also know that Sir had immense pleasure in striding along proudly with His collared dog at heel, glinting padlock and dog-tag on display to all.

Sir had got a little cold on the run over, so we stopped at a nice little deli for a *huge* bowl of warming mushroom soup, cheese and bread. It was getting quite late and many of the bikes were heading home by the time we were done, and so we took a leisurely stroll back to the bike then chased the last of the pack back into Bournemouth.


Back at our Hotel room, and Sir pulled out a chair to have His pup sit quietly with its head in His warm leathered lap - stroking its ears and quietly crooning His thought of taking His pup to the next bike night dressed only in collar, chaps and harness: showing off His ink and walking him through the bikers on a leash so that they would all know I was HIS. The thought had His pup whining and wagging its arse in agreement, until Sir finally had to find a way to keep it quiet...

He hung my leash over the coat hook at first - made me sit, panting, whilst He stripped off both His own leather and mine - then He watched us both in the full-length mirror as His dog worked its muzzle onto His beautiful meat.

Premier Inn are not too generous with floor space, but Sir still managed to find room to have His pup sprawled on the floor - grunting percussively underneath His boots as He ground me underneath their cleated soles and worked out the knots in my back and chest with His weight... They might be sparing with space, but they are much more generous with their beds - which are just the right height for having a pup 'play dead' on, its head hanging over the edge so that its Man can get down into its throat without too much trouble...

They are nice big soft beds too - perfect for a Man to snuggle up with His pup afterwards.


Sadly, the bad weather found us the next morning, just as we were finishing our breakfast at the brilliantly eclectic Flirt - and so it was a fully rucca'd Man and waterproofed pup that headed on down the coast to Worthing. 

The English seaside in the rain is not the most pleasant place to be - but Sir had some family visits to make, and so the pup retired to its favourite haunt at the Dome Cafe (newly refurbished with delightfully vintage tables and chairs). I guess I must have looked a little incongruous in that dainty location, still in my collar and creaking padded leathers whilst I ate multiple slices of cake and sipped tea from bone china - but I confess that I spent a very happy couple of hours there, safely ensconced in the warm and dry whilst I patiently waited for my Man's 'Here boy!' text to pull me back out into the driving rain and the soggy ride back...

And it was a long and soggy ride too. Amazingly, the first full day of rain that we've had to endure in the many years that Sir has had me as pillion. But we chatted and laughed for much of the way, and at least it gave me a chance to finally try out the waterproof claims of my rain-suit (the confession of which had us both laughing that a true pervert can always find something positive and perverted in any situation).

Back at Sir's house, and the pup exchanged its damp bike gear for skin-tight leather jeans, ready to head on up to its own home. But Sir made me warm up with a mug of tea first - drank whilst sat with His socked feet in my lap, massaging away any cold cramps whilst we chatted about the pleasure of our time together. I had only intended to stay for a while, but His leather was so warm, and He smelt so good - and soon the pup's muzzle was gently licking away - and stirring us both into play space once more.


He told me to strip out of my leather and make myself ready, whilst He went to change into His Wescos and harness - then He pulled me up the stairs and into the playroom, His hand grabbing my jaw and my mouth filled with His gloved thumb.

Down on my knees, He exchanged His thumb for a breathe-through gag that had me drooling and groaning whilst He pulled and played with my nipples and nudged my cock and balls with His boots - then He released my mouth and let me work some of that drool into His boot leather. Lost in the pleasure of showing my devotion to Him, I was only barely aware of Him buckling a leather strap around my balls - then found myself grunting and moaning as He probed deep into my aching ring with His rubber night-stick.

When He felt I was open enough, He told me to carefully rise - which is when I realised that He had fastened a heavy weight to the parachute strap around my balls. The swinging weight pulled them down hard and sore - but the pressure made my cock drip as He pulled me to Him and pushed my face and hungry tongue into His armpits. The taste and smell of His scent drove me deep into sub-space, and I couldn't help but hump and grind into His booted leg - until finally He pulled me away from Him.

He held my face in His gloved hands - made me meet His eyes, dark and burning within the shade of His muir; then He told me He wanted to hear me ask Him to fuck me - so that I would know I was responsible for what would come next.

And, god help me, I asked Him. My eyes hungry and burning into His - begging Him to fuck me and to make me feel whole.

He bent me over the bench then - up on my booted toes with the ball weight swinging between my legs - my hole open and hungry as I looked over my shoulder to see Him harnessed and booted and towering over me in masculine strength and Masterful dominance - one gloved hand guiding Himself into me as the other pressed my head down into the padded leather...

He rode me hard - hard as the day before; rode me through my grunts and grimaces of pain - reminding me that I had wanted this, asked for this - begged for it. He even reached down to enfold my aching cock in His gloved hand to show me how much I needed it - and through the intensity and hunger and pain I knew that He was right: that only in giving myself to Him like this could I ever feel whole, ever feel fully the dog that I am and need to be.

And so I surrendered to my need and to His hunger - and in that surrender felt the pain of resistance transformed by the alchemy of submission into the liquid fire of hunger and arousal. Felt the burning power of Him build within me, flame through my core and wrap itself around both my brain and my cock. Felt them fused in one conflagration as my mind and body become one - filled only with Him and the power of His hunger. Felt the hot coals of my sex swell and pulse as He edged me closer and closer - driving into me as He swung the weight between my legs and squeezed the dripping end of my own doggy-cock; thrusting balls-deep into my core until I was no longer sure whether it was me He was milking, or Himself pushed so deep within me that He wore my skin, stretched taut as a condom, around His own meat...

I wanted to hold back - needed to feel Him cum first - but the intensity was too much; the fire overtook me and coursed down through my body in great spasms that lifted me from my feet - and had Him grunting as the rippling grip of my hole tried to suck His own cum from Him.

He fed me then: down on my knees with both my cock and my hole dripping their juices onto the floor between my boots. His seed burnt upon my tongue as I stared up at Him with love and devotion too strong to ever put into words.

My Man, my Master, my everything.


When He finally unlocked my collar and sent me home, it was into some of the worst rain I have had to drive through. Had I been capable of thought, I might have asked to stay the night - but then that would have meant another morning of the dog awakening us both with its nuzzles and wriggles, so perhaps it was best that I didn't.

I was a saddle-sore little pup for the next couple of days too - but I chose to wear it as a badge of pride for the pleasure I had been able to give...

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