Monday, July 16, 2012

Pride: Bristol

Two Pride parades in one week?! (Lucky me!) - and this Saturday was Bristol's turn to be 'camp and damp'.

For the third year running, the 'Sing Out Bristol' LGBT Community Choir (of which Sir is a member) had been asked to open the event on College Green. They also needed 'friends and family' to join them in the parade and hand out stickers for their 'Love Train' fund-raising concert later in the year, and so Sir asked if His pup would like to come down to help.

The Bristol was a little smaller than London - but not without vigour and fun (and despite the neo-fascist 'English Defence League' holding a rally nearby). The March itself was also incredibly scenic, as it wound down the hill between the University and the Council buildings.

The choir had decided to wear the rainbow colours, and so each member was asked to wear "something bright and colourful"; I might be biased, but I think my Man stole the show in His orange camos, XXX Amsterdam polo shirt and accessories... :)

Despite an initial hitch with the sound system, 'Sing Out' gave an incredible show that had the gathered crowd jiving and singing along. Their choralography also raised a lot of appreciative laughs - as did the pup when I howled along to the 'When you were a little boy, did you have a puppy?' line in 'River Deep, Mountain high' ;)

After the show, Sir and I had a wander down to the waterfront and away from the noise of the square to look at the quayside market and grab a savoury crepe overlooking the docks. But then it was time for Him to head home to His Man, and me to mine - both a little damp, but happy to have spent another few hours together, proudly Man and dog.

It was a grand day OUT :)

Pride, London 2012 - Sunday

Sunday morning saw us both waking up feeling a lot better than we had the day before - but then a good couple of hours sleep will do that for you.

It also does wonders for your libido (as does a horny pup, its limpet lips and waggy-tail)...

It was late morning by the time we finally dragged ourselves out of bed; we probably should have started packing, but our exertions had made us both hungry, and so we decided to leather up and head out for the morning instead.

We made a stop in Shoreditch first, so that Sir could visit His rubber-tailor. The guy has been designing a new rubber bike-suit to replace Sir's set from HOST (which is slowly self-destructing), and Sir had promised to leave him the old set to look at as a comparison. He had an amazing little studio flat and workshop in a yard on the edge of the Boundary Estate - filled with off-cuts of rubber and random designs for ball-gowns and theatre costumes - and the pup had a really enjoyable time nosing through his scrapbook of ideas. If he does as good a job of Sir's new suit as the plans suggest, then I just might have to get him to design something for me too...

Chores done, we then wandered around Arnold Circus. The estate and circus where one of the first Council housing estates in the UK, built at the turn of the 19th century to replace the terrible slums in the area. It's an amazing place, with beautiful red-brick tenement buildings, narrow streets and curious yards - all centred on a conical park with a band-stand at its peak. Best of all, the housing still seems to be social housing, and to have avoided gentrification and redevelopment. The local community were having a street-fair on the day we were there, and so we were able to wander the streets without traffic to disturb us - enjoying the music and the carnival atmosphere and noting the little touches they had made (such as a bubble fountain filling the street with rainbows, and a set of bunting outside the community laundrette made from old unmatched socks).

From the Circus we wandered down into Bethnal Green - looking for somewhere to stop for lunch.

We finally decided on an amazing little cafe at the end of Swanfield Street, just as it started to rain. The food was an incredible mix of Mediterranean and green salads, warmed quiches and halloumi pastries - served at long bench-tables and lit by chandeliers. The place was incredibly popular, but we managed to squeeze onto a bench end, next to a fascinating bohemian trio who were discussing recent art exhibitions. They kindly shuffled up to let us take a seat, and were very welcoming: commenting on the doggy-ears on my helmet, and then being very complementary about both my collar and my self-penned puppy t-shirt. Then one of them spotted my tattoos, and Sir had to indulgently listen as His pup waxed lyrical in advertising Jo's amazing work...

Finally the rain stopped, and so we took a stroll down Brick Lane - which is an amazingly diverse mix of street markets and fashion boutiques, exclusive art spaces and bars - like an unspoilt Camden Market before all the tourists and commercialisation.

We wandered in and out of a few shops, bought a very fine leather cow-boy hat for the dog, and ended up at the 'Boiler house' food hall at the old Truman's brick factory - stealing little tasters of the amazing range of food from the dizzying diversity of cultures on display, and making a promise to return for a proper nosh on our next visit up to the capital.

As we wandered back to the bike, the dog also treated my Man to one final ice cream - then it was back to the hotel and the long avoided job of packing.

At least, that was the plan; but then Sir commented that He hadn't had a chance to wear His new rubber wrestle-singlet and waders, and so the dog asked Him to wear it so that it could see what it looked like. The sight of my Man in tight shining latex got the pup far too interested of course, which then meant a return of the dreaded licky doggy-tongue and a pair of limpet lips - and finally a horny little dog humping its Mans wadered legs...

But we finally managed to pack everything away, and to load the car - and then it was a return game of 'dog and hare' down the M5 - with both of us grinning and filled with amazing memories of an incredible weekend...

Pride London, 2012 
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Pride, London 2012 - Saturday

Saturday morning - and the day of the parade. After only 4 hours of sleep, both Man and hound were just a little sleep-deprived - but we pulled on our leathers and prepared to meet our public all the same.

The weather threatened to be wet, so we took a brolly with us (the pup riding with it tucked under his arm - imagining he was a lancer riding into war ;) ). We were lucky to have it with us too, since the heavens opened just as we got into Baker Street - so the pup hopped off the bike as soon as Sir found a suitable parking spot, then stood holding the umbrella over both us and the bike until after the shower passed.

We were both ravenous, but found a really nice place to eat at The Canteen - were we had an amazingly tasty Welsh rarebit whilst Sir texted Roy and the guys from BLUF to see where they were. Sir was trying to give directions to Roy on the phone when the pup spotted our MSC buddy, Vic walking by - so Sir nipped out to drag him into the warm and dry whilst we finished up eating, then walk down together to find the were the BLUF group was gathering.

Rather incongruously, we'd been placed between a transgendered group, and the Cambridge University Student Union; I'm not sure which was the most nervous of having a group of leather-clad, whip-wielding Muscle-men (one pup and a dog called Hector) suddenly appearing beside them...! But Sir and Roy both did their full charm offensive, and soon had everyone smiling and laughing like we were all old friends (I think the sight of Ade stripping down to change his t-shirt might have also had something to do with it - at least for the SU lads. Talk about wide-eyed... ;) )

We had to wait for ages for the parade to start - but that just gave us a chance to catch up with old friends and to make new ones (especially the incredibly charming Kilker). Roy and Sir also had fun chatting up a nice bunch of german's over from Munich, and posing with a variety of the guys in amazingly creative drag (my favourite being when they both made 'use' of the polystyrene urinals on 'Ms WC' - if anyone has pics...?)

As I've already blogged, the Parade itself had been downgraded to a March with no vehicles or floats. The Council had also decided not to close the road, so there was a chaos of cars, busses and slightly-damp queens all jostling for road-space. At least we gave the bus passengers something to look at whilst they sat steaming in the traffic jams we caused...

Finally, the drums started, and we got to move off. 

I would have loved to do the route as Sir's puppy, but it was very nice being able to be 'in person' and so able to chat and laugh as we walked (there was a puppy-group on the parade who we would have joined, if not for wanting to meet so many old friends in BLUF. Still, I don't envy their tales of bruised paws and aching knees after trying to walk the 4 mile route on all fours...!)

Interestingly, the lack of floats and vehicles made the parade flow a lot easier (it was also a pleasure not to walk the route facing the back of a fumes-spewing bus, as we had the year before). The lack of crow-barriers between us and the crowds meant that it was a lot more intimate and friendly too - and gave both Sir and Roy lots of chances to mingle with their public and to get access to the many cute bearded men who lined the route. It also gave me lots of opportunities to see the startled, fearful look that those hapless victims as the realised that they were being 'stalked' - then their blushing grins when Roy fondled their chest, or Sir nuzzled their necks... 

We also got to flash-mob a couple of policemen - including one rather sexy biker-cop who even let Sir take a photo of His dog over his saddle (although I think he had thought Sir meant *sitting* on the bike, rather than sprawled ready for a fucking...!)

Unfortunately it started to rain part the way through the parade - but leather is both warm and waterproof, and we did have our brolly with us - with plenty of room for three or more (especially when one is a miniature pup). The same can't be said for some of the other groups: a feather boa, some body-paint and a pair of lame shorts is all well and good when the sun shines, but not so much fun once the temperature drops...

The rain also gave us one of the most surreal images of the day: an almost naked guy in a head-dress and stilts with a bunch of muscle-boys on chains, coming out of a high-doored shop on Regent Street, clutching a just-bought umbrella (goodness knows how he paid for it - or where he kept his wallet...! :) ).

The guys all put on a wonderful show - and made for some fantastically sexy images (not least Roy and Garry kissing for the cameras - and Kilker and Garry holding hands like teenage sweethearts...)  

But, all too soon, we were being herded towards the embankment, and the end of the parade - and one last chance to pose for a group photo.

Unfortunately, Sir and I then got dragged off to pose for some woman and her art project - when we turned around, everyone had already dissipated, and so we never really got a chance to say proper thanks and goodbyes - so I will say it now: 

Thank you guys, it was an incredible event, and an honour to share it with you all

Special thanks must go to Nigel for organising and paying for our slot in the first place - but it wouldn't have been half as much fun without the friendly camaraderie and acceptance of every single one of you. 

You all have a lot to be proud of.

Everyone else seemed to head for Soho, but Sir needed a tea so we decided to head for the cafe in the park outside Embankment tube (were we were treated to a nice slice of cake left over from a wedding party by the leather-loving owner - and nice visit from our friends polish cycling friend, on his way to the Oasis).

The it was on to the Tube (with lots of side-long glances from the other passengers at our leather-clad resplendence) back up to Baker street to pick up the bike and head 'home' for a nap.



We *were* supposed to go to the BLUF party at the Backstreet that night - but the excitement of the day, coupled with a lack of sleep and the late night before, meant Sir awoke from our nap with a building migraine. We both felt really guilty to miss the fun, but in all honesty, we were both so pooped that we would have only been a downer to the party. 

Instead, the dog let His Man medicate and then rest for a bit - then opted to chauffeur Him down into Datchet, were we had a nice little stroll and then a beautifully quiet, intimate little dinner at a charming little Italian restaurant. 

I know - hardly 'Sex and the City', but it was a perfect end to an amazing day.

Pride London, 2012
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Friday, July 13, 2012

Pride, London 2012 - Friday evening at the Hoist

I am sorry to say that both Man and pup were still a little tired later that evening when we awoke from our nap. Sir was very understanding of my little panic-attack in bondage (He later told me that I had only been in the sleep-sack for 45 minutes!), but it did mean that neither of us had got much of a rest.

I made sure to give Him a proper 'Good morning!' puppy-nuzzle, just to say 'sorry!' - and then scampered off to make Him a fortifying cup of tea whilst He looked through our gear for the evening's entertainment at the Hoist 'Black' party and BLUF night. It took a little while of sorting, but Sir finally decided on His beautiful crotch-high Wescos, short-chaps, harness and gauntlets for Himself - and my full rubber pupsuit and hood for the pup (newly vivishined for the evening, so that the pup looked exceptional glossy and proud...)

Unfortunately, there were road-works on the M4 - so our 'quick ride down into London' turned into a crawl along the A4 in detoured traffic. We soon got bored of SUVs preventing us from doing a white-line wiggle past the worst of the jams, so Sir tried to find an alternative route south across the river - only to then get turned around near Kew gardens and end up back on the north side opposite Battersea. Still, it meant we got to ride along the embankment, with the Thames bright and beautiful in the reflected lights; we even got to see the Shard, newly opened and brightly illuminated.

There was already quite a crowd gathering by the time we got to The Hoist - with more sexy leather guys arriving by the minute. Some arse-wipe car-driver had also parked their car over the remaining spot in the bike park outside, so Sir had to find some parking around the corner, then lead His pup through the streets and back to the club.

SWEAT was running that night as well as BLACK, so both arches were open and Reception and the changing area were both heaving with guys getting ready. Seeing them awkwardly hopping from foot to foot, stripping off civvies and trying to pull on their leathers made me all the more happy for the fact that Sir always has us travel ready geared - all that was needed was to find a quiet spot for Sir to help His pup out of my 'Service-dog' boiler-suit and to reveal my glossy rubber skin beneath. He then had me go down onto all fours whilst He helped me pull on my hood and padded paws - let me lean into His leg whilst He carefully inserted my tail-plug - then clicked my leash onto my collar, tapped His leg with a whistle, and led me scampering along the mirror-lined corridor and into the club itself.


The place was heaving: men and leather and boots everywhere. I was in pervert-pup heaven.

I trotted along obediently behind my Man - weaving between all those booted legs with my nose aligned to the back seam of His Wescos. Sir had to tap a few shoulders, and remind a few guys "Careful - don't step back on My dog!", but it was thrilling to have it so busy - and to know that so many eyes were watching and evaluating my every move.

Sir led us to the bar, and had me scoot myself between His legs with my tail out of harms way. I peered around through His legs whilst He waited to be served - loving the dark glinted highlights from all the leather and chrome on display on so many beautifully masculine Men. I noticed a few of the other guys at the bar leaning back to take a good look - eyes wide to see a fully k9'd rubber-pup in obedient attendance to its Man; I gave them a quiet 'wuff!' and a friendly wag of my tail - and got a round of appreciative chuckles in return.

Cold drink in hand, Sir led us away from the bar and into a quieter corner where His pup was at less risk of an unmeant kick. As I wrapped myself around the back of His legs to sit at 'HEEL' beside His left side, I noticed one leatherman in particular who was hungrily watching our every move. He watched from a distance for a while as I rested my head on my Man's leg and He gently rubbed my ears through the rubber hood - my tail wagging in pleasure - then finally came over to say "Thank you: you've made my night. I've never seen such a sweet pup, or so devoted a Handler"...!

All that press of male bodies in full leather made the club really hot (I'm also certain there were quite a lot of poppers in the air) and so it wasn't long before the pup was slick with sweat inside my rubber. My Man saved some of His drink for me though - and set it down with a luminescent cock-shaped straw so that I could get a good drink. A couple of guys commented and asked why Sir didn't make me drink from a bowl 'like a real dog', but He calmly pointed out how difficult it would be for a hooded and muzzled pup to get his head into a bowl without drowning himself - and so a straw was the simplest solution. "When you're not rehydrating one's dog 'straight from the tap' that is..." ;)

Refreshed, Sir then led us on a tour of the back arches and up onto the balcony. It felt really good to lope along behind and beside Him - my body finding its natural k9 stride and moving with an animal fluidity that felt as good from the inside as my Man told me it looked from the outside.

As we pushed through the crowd a really nice guy in a beautiful full rubber, pouch-fronted suit stopped us to compliment my Man on his 'Sexy rubber dog' - so Sir made me 'PRESENT!' for him, to show how well the tight shining rubber clung to my shoulders and rump. The rubberman was very sweet, and gave the pup a good fuss - and was *really* complimentary about the depth and resonance of my bark in response.

Up on the balcony, Sir finally found a nice quiet spot to sit - overlooking the bar and the big screen. His pup leant its hot rubbered body up against the smooth leather of His boots, then rested its head against His knee to watch the men come and go for a while. But it didn't take long before the rich smell of His oiled boot leather had my tongue drooling, and soon I was nudging and nuzzling at His jock strap and the swelling prize nestled within...

I was aware of a small crowd of guys gathering to watch as I set my tongue and throat to work. Eager to give a good show - knowing that the lights would glint and reflect from the shining rubber that coated my body and head as I moved and flexed - I eagerly groomed every curve and crevice of my Man's now straining meat. The heat and the rubber and the steady thump of the music worked deep into my brain and set a rhythm to my efforts that soon had my Man's legs clenching and shaking in the struggle not to thrust Himself deep into me: wanting instead to save Himself for the 'unfinished business' he had left with my tail earlier in the afternoon.

He says that it was as surprising to Him as it was to me when my licking tongue and grasping throat milked the cum right out of Him, right there in full sight of all those envious men...

Sir took us back down to get another drink from the bar - and let the dog slake its thirst. He then let me nuzzle and lick Him a little more, with my paws holding myself steady by grasping the top edges of His boots. But the dog's exertions had tired us both, and so Sir finally nudged me back down onto all fours, then led us back through the club and out to the entrance to collect our helmets and the dog's boilersuit (and where, now back on 2-legs and able to talk, I also got a chance to say 'thank you!' to the nice rubber guy who had been so complimentary before).

As we left the Club, I also spotted the gorgeous Kilker (Mr Leather UK 2012) - and trotted back across the road just to say 'hello sexy!' in person, and 'I hope to see you tomorrow at the parade?'


It was really late by the time we got back to the hotel, despite the dog's promises not to keep my Man out - but He forgave me when I treated Him to a Ben and Jerry's ice cream and a hot chocolate whilst I stripped out of my rubber, then checked on the iPad for traffic and meeting arrangements for the next morning.

Then it was into bed for a few hours snatched sleep before an early rise and all the excitement of the parade!

Pride London, 2012
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Pride, London 2012 - Friday afternoon play

Back in our room, and the pup started to sort through the gear ready for the evening - and in the process 'discovered' he had packed a remote-enabled E-Stim box and anal plug...

Sir has had therapeutic TENS on a muscle injury - which He hated - so He has been reticent to use electro on me in the past. However, the pup's wicked grin and gentle nuzzling soon had Him reaching for the remote and giving it a tentative few presses - and His pup's eager squirms and little whimpers of pleasure soon persuaded Him that the pup would come to no harm...

After that it didn't take long for Him to get the hang of the 'fire' button on the remote - or to visibly enjoy the little groans, twitches and yelps that each increasingly powerful 'ZZZAP!' raised ;)

With the plug tingling in my hole, Sir had me crawl up onto the spare sofa-bed - repositioning the removable back rest so that I could straddle on all fours with the cushion supporting my hips and my puppy hole raised high in the air. He then took advantage of my exposed position to place a humbler around my balls: forcing them painfully out and back and making me unable to move from my K9 position.

With His dog helpless (horny and dripping), Sir then took turns at cropping my tender arse and zapping my hole - with the dog barking His thanks at each stroke, and moaning and squirming in perverted pleasure with each pulse - the humbler pulling painfully at my balls with each instinctive jerk of pain or grind of pleasure, and producing a deep ache that simply ramped up my hunger all the more.

Finally, He removed the humbler and had me shuffle backwards along the bed - and eased the now warm electro-plug from my still-tingling hole.

Hungry, opened, riding high on the pain and the pleasure and deep into pup-space - I could only whimper and whine in wordless pleasure as I felt Him slide - hard and hot - into my waiting hole.

He reached down and under me, took my still-aching balls in His hand: used them to slowly pull me back onto Him - controlling me, telling me who was in charge, setting the pace for a long slow fuck that would be more about pleasuring Him than getting His pup off. I could only wriggle and pant and give myself to Him - knowing that His pleasure was my pleasure, and that serving Him is worth more than anything else in the world.

Sated, Sir finally decided it was time for His long-delayed nap, but the pup had one last grinning surprise in its bag as I pulled out my rubber sleep-sack...

Still tingling, still hungry, I could only grin up at my Man as He slid the sack up my prone body and slowly pulled up the zips - sealing me ever tighter into my helpless rubber prison. My legs forced together and my arms squeezed tight to my sides, I watched and squirmed as He converted my body from eager four-legged hound to glossy-black rubberised slug.

Finally, the gas-mask was pulled over my head - the multiple tubes snaking away from its snout to coil and writhe across my bound chest, whilst my breath whistled and sighed through the single port. My Man's face was the last image I saw through the already misting lenses as He pulled my own rubber one-piece over my head, sealing me away into darkness and isolation.


"Be careful what you wish for"

I am not new to intense bondage scenes. My first Top was a bondage expert well versed in the art of keeping a boy bound, encased, breathless and hungry - and I have spent many a heady hour of blissful restraint and edged frustration at His hands.

This time was different.

Maybe it was because I was still in a head-space focused around the puppish need for contact, or perhaps it was because of the health problems I have had with my back - but what I have previously experienced as blissful breathless intensity soon became unpleasant discomfort, which in turn gradually built into genuine pain - and then the rising grip of panic.

I tried reaching for sub-space: deepened my breathing and focused on letting my body relax. I tried to feel the restriction of the dark rubber as the embrace of my Man's control - the cloying, breathless darkness as the enfolding press of His body - the aching pain of my restrained body as the buzz of longed for rubber-transformation.

I tried every mental trick I have learnt in decades of sub-play - and not a single one of them worked.

The panic rose ever stronger in me - my heart racing and the mask sucking to my face with every heaving gasp. Genuine panic now filled my mind and twisted my thoughts - until the oppressive darkness throbbed with thoughts of my lonely asphyxiating death and my Man waking to find my lifeless corpse.

I lost all sense of time - every minute dragged into hours, and every one of them filled with pain. My body rebelled and I found myself thrashing and struggling against the rubber restraints - grunting and crying into the mask and sobbing helplessly in the darkness...

And then my Man was there: pulling away the blindfolding rubber, His concerned face peering in through the clouded lenses and the warm calming touch of His hand stroking my body through the sack. His voice was deep and calming as He pulled off the mask and asked "What's up pup - do you need out?"

I felt so foolish, but I had to nod - not trusting my voice, knowing that it would break in my relief at having Him there (and my disappointment at failing Him).

Smoothly, without fuss or comment, He released the zips and pulled me free from my rubber bonds - then held me and stroked my sweat-soaked head in concern as I trembled and shook, and sobs racked my body. He carried me to the bed then - wrapped me in the crisp warmth of the duvet and held me safe in His arms until the shudders subsided: let the warm touch of His body sooth the pain from my limbs and the panic from my mind.

He held me all the tighter when I could finally speak, and told Him of the thoughts that had racked me in the darkness of my isolation - He kissed my head and told me that He loved His dog and His boy, and would never let anything bad happen to me - and I knew that He meant it, and loved Him all the more.

I had a good growl at the nasty old scary sleepsack later though and gave it a good shake - just to show it who was boss...

Pride London, 2012
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Pride, London 2012 - Friday out on the bike

Morning, and I slowly woke to the warmth and security of my Man's enfolding arms - surrounded in the heat of His body and the warm musk of His scent.
His beard brushed my neck as He leaned close to whisper "Good morning pup!"

I wiggled my puppy-but back into His crotch - wagging my puppy-welcome - then nuzzled into the inside of His elbow as He wrapped one arm around my neck and the other around my chest: slowly pulling me back, hard and helpless against Him. I could feel the iron restraint of His arms as He rubbed my naked back into the thick fur of His chest - making me squirm and yelp with pleasure.

He kept one arm tight around my neck - pressing into the padlocked steel of my collar and *just* limiting my air enough to make me gasp in heady pleasure - whilst His other hand teased at my exposed nipples, then traced down to find the hard, dripping excitement of His puppy's eager cock. His voice was deep and throaty as He breathed a "Good boy!" into my ear.

He released my neck, then took hold of my collar and used it to gently guide me around to face Him. He kissed my smiling face - then lifted an arm to let me bury my muzzle into the rich salty taste and heady scent of His pits. I was in puppy heaven as I licked and lapped - rubbing my beard into Him so that I could carry His scent through the day.

His hand on my collar guided my licking, nipping mouth down onto His nips, and I worked for a while on those sensitive meaty nubs of flesh: teasing with the tip of my tongue, then lapping and biting and sucking too - working myself down into puppy-space, and my Man into groaning pleasure.

I felt the flex of His arm, and followed His unspoken command to work my kissing, grazing way down His furred chest and abs - giving the perfect prize of His hard and hungry meat only a breathy kiss before moving on and down, down to the heavy hanging weight and heat of His balls.

I licked and lapped, grazed and nipped, sucked and bit - working each globe into my mouth to surround it in heat and wet hunger. His hands roamed over the back of my head - part stroking and part guiding my efforts to satisfy His pleasure.

In response to His subtle guiding, I finally moved around, slipped underneath His lifted leg - licking underneath His balls and down into the furred cleft of His hole: probing and searching for that sweet puckered ring of tight muscle hidden within the rich warmth of His heady man-scent... I felt my Man's hands clasp hard around my head: the hunger pulsing from His body as He pushed my face into His arse and ground His hole down onto my tongue. I growled and huffed and grunted in a piggy pleasure that was equal to His own.

Finally, He released my head and let me breath - then pulled me up to His face to cover my mouth in a deep sexy kiss. Momentarily stated, He then pushed me away and sent me off to make us our morning cup of tea - then had me run the shower and prepare us both for a run into the city to find breakfast.


It was raining by the time we got into Chiswick, so we parked up and found a great little cafe - where the pup ordered a very smart breakfast of Eggs Florantine for us both. The steamed spinach, lightly poached egg, English muffin and hollandaise sauce made for an incredibly posh change from our usual 'greasy-spoon' all-day breakfast - and the perfect start to a wet day exploring West London!

Sir had planned to take us to the market on Portebello Road - or on to Smithfields if we had time - however we somehow got ourselves a little lost in the back streets of Acton...

By the time we had worked our way out again it was getting a little late - and since we had plans for that evening, we decided to head home for a nap rather than explore any further.

Pride London, 2012
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Pride, London 2012 - Thursday

So - finally the Pride weekend was upon us.

Sir had already said that we would take both the car and the bike so that we would have a 'travelling wardrobe' for all our combined gear - unfortunately, that just meant having to resist taking every piece of leather and rubber that this dog owns. Sir was also working for the first part of the day, so I got to spend most of the morning packing and repacking - and trying to be reasonable about the amount that I could sensibly take. But, finally, Sir phoned to say that He was ready to receive me, and I leapt into the car to head down.

Sir's partner has taken some unpaid leave to build a new porch on their house, so the pup helped to load the car with Sir's gear whilst He helped His man complete a few of the 4-handed jobs (it was rather fun to see my Handler in full biking leathers up a ladder holding a fascia...). Then, work done - and farewell kisses all around - it was time to hit the road, with Sir on the bike in front and the pup following behind in the car as support and 'mule train'.

I really missed being able to ride with my Man - but it was fun to play cat-and-mouse, and He was careful to ride slowly enough to let me stay just behind Him. That also gave me a beautiful view of Him riding: His beautiful broad frame so tall and beautifully leathered. It was an interesting opportunity to compare His riding style with the other bikers that passed us too - them hunched painfully over their machines whilst my Man rode tall and erect and relaxed.

We passed a huge fire on the way, with thick plumes of smoke rising high into the sky and visible from 25 miles away. We found out later that it was a scrap-yard fire that burned for three days. We also rode through patches of rain, and some seriously ominous dark-skies - we even spotted a funnel cloud, and watched as it slowly formed then died over 15 minutes; I only wish I had been able to photograph it, because no-one believes that we saw a tornado in Wiltshire! :)

It was a long drive - broken by a short stop for tea and a shared Cornish Pasty at the services (watching a bunch of nice army guys and some rather nice classic cars) - but finally we made it to our hotel at Terminal 5

It took a while to ferry all of our bags, gear and boots up to the room (whilst a table full of guys watched and nudged each other - then visibly flinched when my Man gave them a cool intimidating stare ;) ), but finally we were in place and the dog could stick the kettle on for its Man.


I also took the excuse to bound over to my Man, almost knocking Him over in a huge 'I missed you!" hug - which turned into a nuzzle, and then a lapping lick - and then me slowly working my licking, kissing mouth down along the side of my Man's lovely leather jeans until I was on my knees, staring up with big puppy eyes and a long lolling tongue. How could my Man refuse such pleading...?

He smiled, and then eased down the zip on His breeches.

He always smells so wonderful after a few hours in the saddle: with the subtle smell of the warm leather blending with His own clean rich salty scent. I always take a moment, just to be able to breathe in that heady warmth and gentle musk - huffing in His pheromones so that they wake the deep primal parts of my brain and stir the pup inside me.

Driven by the scents and the smells of Him, I was soon licking and lapping and growling away - my arse wagging and tight leathered crotch bumping against His boots. And above me, gloved hand resting lightly upon my head: my Man, sighing His own deep pleasure as His dog worked its magic with tongue and lips and throat - teasing and probing and licking and caressing, finding and coating every edge and curve of His meat with my thick puppy-drool, then sliding His slick hardness down into the tight grasp of my throat. Edging Him closer and closer to a knee-trembling release that had us both shaking and laughing as the pup hugged His legs and gratefully rubbed its cum-slick face into His leathered thigh...


By which time, both of our tummies were growling, so Sir had us pull on our jackets, fire up the helmet com, and head off on the bike into the local village of Datchet to look for some food.

Unfortunately, it was already getting very late - so most of the restaurants were closed; we passed a few chippies, but by the time we turned around even they had closed up for the night too, and so there was nothing for it but to head on into Windsor in the hope that there might be something still open there...!

We finally found a late night Kebab place open, were Sir ordered a big serving of cheesy-chips - which we carried down to eat on a borrowed picnic bench beside the river - watching a family feeding the swans with whole slices of bread.

Then it was back 'home' to the hotel, a quick cocoa (ignoring the pile of unpacked bags) - and then finally time to slip into the crisp white sheets and my Man's warm protective arms, then down into sleep and the weekend to come.

Pride London, 2012
Thursday: mule-train and arrival 
Friday: Acton and play-time at the Hoist
Saturday: Parade!
Sunday: Shoreditch and home

Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Pride London 'downscaled'

It seems that London is too busy funding the Jubilee and Olympics to want to bother with a bunch of queers and their floats this Saturday.

As has been made clear in statement from the Pride London website, they simply haven't been able to raise enough money or sponsorship to be able to fund an event on the scale of previous years:
Each and every year, Pride London needs to achieve some serious commercial targets to fund the event - and this year, targets are even higher than before, because of increased cost, the sheer scale of the planned event and mounting pressure to deliver a "world class" event. To a backdrop of a more difficult economic climate and tough sponsorship calls considering everything that is happening in London this year, fundraising from both corporates and from within the community has been more challenging than ever. Despite creating a strong sponsorship base for this year's planned event, there is, in the week leading up to the 7th of July, still a shortfall. 
As a result, we are returning to the roots of the original Pride London rallies. The 'parade' as we know it will now be a procession. It will cover the same route as planned, but with the exception that there will be no vehicles or floats participating. The procession will commence at an earlier time of 11am instead of the scheduled 1pm kick-off.
The celebrations in Trafalgar Square are expected to proceed, but with some changes to the programme, including an earlier start and finish time. 
There will be no official World Pride events in Soho. 

It is a real shame that the planned party has had to be downscaled - and even more embarrassing given that this year Pride London is hosting the 'World Pride' title.

Pride weekend normally has such an incredible carnival atmosphere that spills over into the rest of the capitol, so it will be a great shame that the day is reduced to a small march and a closed party in Trafalgar. There have even been additional warnings from the Met that any partying or drinking in the streets of Soho will be cracked down upon.

When the nation is celebrating in so many other ways, it does feel a little like Pride is being told "we'd rather you kept it a little quiet, boys, so as not to scare the tourists..."

Nevertheless, Handler and i and a bunch of sexy BLUF guys and pups and a whole load of other perverts are still planning to go and march and do our stuff - so here's hoping that we'll manage to make it a Pride to remember, with or without sponsorship or approval from big name brands.

Now all we need is for the British weather to play along too....
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