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.

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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?'

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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


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