Monday, December 30, 2013
Saturday, December 28, 2013
I read the following on someone's Tumbl today, and it incensed me:
"It is so rewarding to watch even some Queers as they denigrate, humiliate and destroy the questionable human status of willing queer faggots even lower than They.
Sink lower, faggots. Embrace and savor the psychological wounds and scars of becoming ever lesser and lesser, understanding all the while that the Power, Pride, and Cruelty you allow and encourage in Other Men is all you were born for and live for. Your reward is your sexual addiction to crippling shame and loss of self esteem."
How the fuck can anyone actually think that - let alone find it fucking sexy?!
OK, maybe I'm not a sadist so I don't see Power-play from the same perspective, but how fucked-up must you be if you so detest the men that you Dominate that you want to destroy them so utterly? - and how much must you come to loath yourself when you believe the very acts you desire to commit with those men as being the lowest and most disgusting possible...?
You think that desiring men makes you less of a Man - that being gay is so sinfully perverse that it makes you sub-human - and yet you eroticise 'punishing' those men by forcing them to have sex with you. I mean, fuck, talk about internalised homophobia and Freudian self-hatred!
What a twisted idea of both Masculinity and of power.
BDSM is an empowering process: it gives us leave to play a role, wear a mask - and to therefore see our real selves behind that mask.
BDSM is about power and the exchange of power; it's about taking taboos and breaking them so that we might reclaim the power within them for ourselves. It is about taking our power and lending it to another so that we can experience powerlessness - and in the process learn just how powerful we really are.
Gay BDSM is also about Masculinity; true masculinity. One Man kneels before another in honour of His power, his manhood - and on doing so, acknowledges the power of his own masculinity. It echoes the Greek tradition of the Older educating and civilising the Younger by imitation, and directly reflects the ways of the warrior, and the Initiation of the shaman: we honour our Master, and serve Him so that we may learn to BE like Him, we give of ourselves to Him so that He may transform us and make us greater than we were.
The church destroyed that understanding - and turned power into something to be stolen and then wielded brutally over others. It turned masculinity into an excuse to dominate, belittle and abuse. And it rewrote our sexuality as something unclean, unnatural and shameful.
'The paling priest doth lie!'
Screw anyone who swallows that shit: screw homophobia and screw self-hatred - screw humiliation play, and screw anyone who wants to salve their own guilt by inflicting their own self-hatred and self-doubt upon those who are better than they.
My advice? When some 'Top' calls you a faggot, a queer, a cunt or a cum-dump - when he gets off on making you feel small, or tries to make you feel bad for what He makes you do - get up off the floor, laugh in his pathetic self-hating face, and walk out the door.
No Man who thinks you are less than He will ever be worth your respect or your service. It doesn't matter how he dresses it up - how much leather he wears, or what misguided 'satanic' regalia he dresses himself up in - Any Man who can fetishise hatred is an abuser - plain and simple - and you are far better of being miles away from him.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Tuesday, December 03, 2013
It's been an eventful few months: after 25 years together my partner and I finally got married (officially too - thank you UK Parliament!) - being pagans, we had a very simple registry signing for the 'official' bit, then had our Handfasting at Halloween, with both our families and close friends in attendance. Neither event could have gone so smoothly without the generous help of my Handler too: both as our official witness at the Registry Office, and then with all the help (gazebos, cutlery and crockery) He and His partner lent for the post-Handfasting family 'Do'; hell - both of them even did a bit of waiting on the night itself!
No wonder both me *and* my 'new' husband love Him so much.
And I guess that's the final piece of news.
I had another 'little meltdown' last month.
I know it was purely down to the stress and unhappiness of work, just like last time. But knowing what caused it didn't make it any less distressing when it happened, not stop it from hurting even now.
I'm (mostly) OK now: the Dr upped my meds and signed me off work for some enforced R&R for a few weeks (or until after xmas if I can stretch it), and I'm using the time to retry to find my mo-jo; getting creative seems to help a lot: I've been having a lot of fun reacquainting myself with my paints (well, I *am* an art-librarian...!), learning a few new pieces on the piano - and getting in lots of long, stress-releasing morning runs...
I hope to be back to strength again soon. And once again - I couldn't have survived it without the love and support of my Men.
I love you guys - heart and soul, balls to bone.
Monday, November 11, 2013
There is a tug on the chains, and the harness straps across my shoulders twitch: pulling away slightly from my body. Another twitch, and I feel the wide belt across my middle tighten. Then the cuffs at my wrists twitch as the chains connecting them take up the slack... Each restraining point feels tawt - pulling me out into a stretched an open position - I am in some form of rack...?
There's another pull - this time its to the restraints that hold my ankles in their padded embrace; I feel my feet pulled behind me - I sway a little, frightened that I'll fall...
Out of the darkness, I hear my Master's voice:
"I think You'll like this boy..."
His boot is suddenly in the small of my back: he gives me a slight push...
I feel myself falling forward - give a muffled, muzzled, shout in panic as I try to raise my hands in front of my to catch my fall - but the chains pull my arms above my head as the straps around my ankles pull my feet from under me. For one horrified moment I am sure that I will hit the floor - but then the harness creaks and the straps dig into me as the take the weight of my moving, falling body; I feel them hold and then support me - and in one mind numbing movement my Master has literally swept me off my feet...
I hang - mid-air - helpless.
My body is suspended - spread-eagled - cocooned by the leather and straps and chains... every minute twitch sets my body swinging within the straps; each is so perfectly balanced that every move in one direction creates a corresponding pull in another part of my body. The hood - dark, damp, controlling - seals me off from the reality of the outside world.
I feel my Master's hands upon my hanging, helpless body - feel the warmth of his flesh through the gloves upon his hands. I grunt with equal amounts of pleasure and surprise - grunt to let Him know how I am melding to His hand, his Will.
He strokes the exposed inside of my thighs, runs a gloved finger along the sensitive line of my rib cage, under my arms... he cups and kneads my chest, pulls on my exposed and sensitive nipples; I try to moan around the gag... His hands move on, stroke up the sides of my chest... and then I feel them caress the sides of the hood that enfolds my head and seals me into this blind world of heat and sex and submission...
I feel his hands work around the hood to the breathing tube; for a moment He closes off the supply with one gloved palm - I struggle to draw air, and the hood clamps itself tighter to my sweating face; I feel my body jerk helplessly in its urgency to draw breath against the obstruction. I hear a quiet laugh, and then he lets the tube hang free; with relief I draw a deep breath - and taste the sweet tang of poppers from the ball of cotton-wool He has stuffed into the tube...
With each breath, my head begin to pulse - my aching tits and hanging cock take up the beat, and as the rush comes over me I am overwhelmed by an incredible sensation of weightlessness - more intense than before - almost as if my body were literally flying...
I find myself breathing deeper - more poppers flood into my already swollen brain - I can hear a buzzing in my ears and my lips begin to tingle - another, weaker grunt escapes me and I feel myself sag into the bonds, melt into the harness. I give myself over to the poppers - and to the suspension...
I am dully aware of sensation at my tits and balls - in my dizzy state it is almost as if they float free from the rest of me - hot points of light in the mist that my body has become... a distant part of me is fuzzily aware that clamps have been fastened to my nipples, and a strap around clipped my cock and balls; there's a movement and then I feel a slowly increasing pull as a heavy weight is attached to all three: tits, cock and balls burn as they are pulled away from the rest of me... I am aware I should be gasping in pain, but the poppers and the suspension conspire against me and the only sound I hear escape from my suddenly dry mouth is a deep and animal-like grunt.
I feel another movement at the breathing tube - once again I feel my Master clasp his gloved hand to the air-way - once again I feel my body twitch and strain for breath; when He takes his hand away, there is again the tang of poppers - even stronger now... A burning hunger washes over my body and brain, I feel myself dissolving in the heat, surrendering to the strangeness and the rightness - I feel it dissolving my resistance, filling me with a new hunger, a new need - one that only He can satisfy...
I feel movement around my suspended body - feel the swing of the harness and hear the muffled chink of the chains. I feel the brush of His leathered thighs against the inside of my bare, spread-eagled legs. A finger strokes across my hole, leaving a cool, wet trail of lube... it circles slowly: massaging, teasing, probing. My swollen brain is drawn down along my strained and hanging body by those brushing, probing fingers to just one small hungry spot...
Then one, and then two, of those lubed and probing fingers slip past my hungry ring of muscle; I feel them circle inside - slowly, slowly - they touch something inside me and a stab of pleasure shoots its way up my spine...
... and then I'm swaying in time to those fingers: my body pushing itself back in the rock and sway of the harness and the chains that contain me. Groans and whines and whimpers escape my gagged mouth. I try to push myself back onto those tempting fingers: my arse, my body, my brain are hungry to feel Him inside me - every boundary dissolved in the heat of my aching body and those probing fingers deep in my suddenly hot and hungry arse...
He laughs gently. He knows that now I'm ready to be taken - knows that if it wasn't for the hood and the gag within which He has sealed me I would be begging for him to take me, fill me, Fuck me...
I feel Him sheathed, greased and hard - feel myself yield, push apart, split open - open mouthed and panting, moaning, grunting and growling around the gag. I grab for the chains with desperate hands - try to swing myself back upon Him, to spear myself onto Him; I am suddenly desperate to have him deep inside me - to physically take me and control me. I am shocked at the intensity of my need and my hunger...
But He stays still - buried deep inside me; He fights my struggling attempts - takes a hold of my waist and simply holds me. I feel that rooted solidity and calmness of Him pass into me...
...I breath deep, still myself - and feel the hardness of Him inside me, feel how He fills me: feel the solidity of Him, the heat and the stillness in equal measure. I let myself know that He is in control - and feel myself literally become rooted in Him...
Only then - as if He was waiting for that stillness - only then does He start to move. Slowly, inch by agonisingly hungry inch, He pulls himself almost all the way out - I feel the ridge of his head press outwards against my ring - and then, just as slowly, He pushes back in. Slowly in, slowly out. Deep and slow as breathing, long and deep as the tide. He pushes deeper into me with each stroke: deeper into my body, and deeper into my mind - I ride the rhythm, feel my breathing fall into step - feel myself becoming merely an extension of Him...
Slowly He speeds up - faster, deeper, more hungry - and my body grows hungrier too; I feel my breath becoming ragged, feel my arse begin to burn - and as His strokes become more urgent, I feel the weights at my balls and tits begin to swing: adding their own pull and burn to the pendulum beat of His body into mine - No! - no longer mine - HIS!...
...this strung-out body swings in time to His pumping, feels the weightlessness give way to His thrust and swing - His own grunts begin to match those that escape the gag. His gloved hands grab a tighter hold around the harnessed waist and pull the bound body closer, deeper - thrusting Himself fully in, His balls slapping against the sweating flesh, the leather of His jeans creaking against the leather of the harness that contains and constrains His bound and gasping boy - the black hooded head swinging in time to His thrusts as He pushes Himself deeper and harder into this helpless piece of bound flesh - riding His boy - beating the resistance and the old life out of him - riding him, taming him - taking him - making him his own...
...and inside the hood - speared and taken, gagged and begging - the boy that was once me knows that now it is truly and fully owned...
Thursday, November 07, 2013
As you stare - hypnotised by the lights - the rubber suddenly seems to flex. At first you think it is His cock, twitching within its rubber prison - but then a pulse ripples outwards across the surface like spreading rings upon a black oily lake… Something moves beneath: sinuous and dark, humping upwards, yet never seeming to pierce the surface.
You feel yourself drawn forwards - leaning towards that rippling blackness as if to see it more clearly; whatever moves beneath seems to sense the heat of your body - its writhing becomes more agitated as it mounds and reaches out towards you. You lean closer, inexorably drawn...
You feel a moment of subtle resistance as your face finally touches that beautiful bulging smoothness - and then, in a violent surge, the rubber lunges outwards: flowing up and forward in a glossy alien wave that spreads over your face in a sticky tidal wave of black hunger.
You try to pull back, but the rubber has a tight hold of you now: you feel it flow outwards from its home around your Master's crotch - it ripples over your face and slides backwards over your skull, sealing you into its vice-like grip. Tendrils prove into your nostrils and into your ears, filling your senses with the rich sound and smell of creaking rubber; smooth pads press down upon your eyes, blinding you - and a thick ring pools around your neck, tightening into a seamless and inescapable collar.
Within the sudden blackness, you feel a sticky prodding at your sealed mouth: a thick tendril of rubber that slowly prises open your lips, squeezes between your teeth, and trickles over your tongue. You taste the beautiful bitter-sweetness of rubber as it slowly fills you mouth. You try to swallow, but the rubber presses down upon your tongue, preventing you. Gagged, filled, controlled - all you can do is sense and experience what the rubber desires.
You feel the gag expand - filling your mouth and pressing backwards into your throat; you are helpless to do anything but relax and let it invade you: sliding down into your gullet and into your stomach.
And with that act of submission, you feel the rubber part over your lips - and the sweet press of Your Masters cock as He finally pushes into your transformed and captive head…
Friday, September 27, 2013
We woke early: my Man pretending to sleep whilst the pup quietly clambered out of bed to tip-toe into the bathroom to clean-up and wash up (and failing miserably at being 'subtle' because I had to creep back out to fill my douche from the sink in the bedroom...)
Clean and fresh, I padded back to the bed on all fours and rested my head on the edge of the mattress - giving my Man such a doleful puppy-eyed look of longing that He couldn't pretend sleep any more: but swept the duvet aside with a hearty laugh, and patted the bed so that I could leap up to snuggle against Him with a happy growl.
I shuffled backwards: fitting my back into the hot curve of His body - His throaty growl rich and breathy against my ear as I wriggled my hole into position.
'Careful boy - wriggle that too hard and I'll be forced to fill it...'
- what could a dog do but wag his tail even more...?
'OK boy - you asked for it...'
Strong hands took hold of my collar, turned me onto my side and pulled my leg up to expose my hungry hole - cool lube filled me, then the smooth rubber-tipped head of my Man was pressing slowly into me as my hands twisted into the sheets. The feeling of Him - sliding so slowly but irresistible into my core - was so beautifully intense, so incredibly perfect; a moment of pain, of struggling - and then the bliss of being filled, completed - and the deepest pleasure of serving and giving my Man His pleasure.
Sir fucked His dog slowly first, letting His pup relax and open up to Him - spooned on our sides with the dog enfolded in the strength and warmth of Him. It is still my favourite position to be fucked: His arms around me and His lips upon my neck - curled within His embrace like the pearl within the protective shell of His strength and heat. He let me open up to Him - then used His weight to roll us both over and onto our bellies - then ordered His dog up onto all fours, with my Man still balls-deep inside me.
Gods, but it feels so animalistic and pure to be fucked on all fours - my arms braced and my tail high, panting and growling with every thrust that stabs painfully deep into my very core - my Man growling as His balls strike against my own at the bottom of every aching stroke...
I struggled to take His weight - let Him fuck me as long and as deep as He desired - let myself become the animal inside: His pup, His dog, His hungry fuck-hound... But finally it all became too intense, and I had to collapse back onto the bed with my whole body abuzz and my hole burning...
Sir let us both get our breath, but I was now too hungry for Him to let a little sore arse stop us: I rolled onto my back, reared myself up on my back legs and begged Him to enter me again.
Sir smiled - then pulled my legs around His hips as He pushed down into my still-slick hole. I reached up and wrapped my arms around Him - pulling my head up so that I could reach His sensitive nipples with my mouth: nibbling and biting as He rocked Himself deep into my now willing hole - taking pleasure at His deep growls of hunger as He reached up behind me to grab the steel framed bed-head - using it to steady himself as He fucked me so beautifully...
Needless to say, we were very late for breakfast - and only just had time for a quick shower and frantic pack before check-out...
Our flight out wasn't until the late afternoon, so we left our bags at the hotel, and headed out for one last time stroll through the quarter.
We decided to head for Gear for one last bit of window shopping. Sir found a lovely pair of matching T-shirts for us both - and then the dog fell in love with a beautiful pair of high-gloss Wescos... They were just the wrong size, and Sir was very sensible in suggesting that the pup would be better to buy a custom pair that fit - but I was still *very* tempted; thank goodness we had already packed, and couldn't afford the extra baggage costs (although I did have intense fun stomping about in them whilst the sexy assistant and I chatted about tattoos, and exchanged cards for my lovely Jo Harrison....)
Finally, it was back to the Fuggerstrasse for one last tea and cake - then it was back to the hotel to collect our bags - and a sad farewell to the city as we made our way home.
Thank you Berlin: it was the most amazing weekend!
And thank you Sir: you make me feel so special, so owned, and so loved.
The bear was busy collecting boots from various 'customers' (did I mention that he is a bootblack?), and so was a little late in arriving - but when he did, he was also able to introduce us to a couple of acquaintances from France, who then asked if they could accompany us on our tour of the city.
Sir and I had planned to go to Alexanderplatz and the TV tower (on a friend's recommendation), but our new French friends warned us that you have to pre-book to get into the Tower, and then have to wait several hours for your 'turn'; the weather was also wet and cloudy - so any views at 300 feet would be minimal - and so we agreed to reconsider our day, and to head out on the Shonhauser Allee for a look at Blackstyle instead.
It was also an excuse to use our Welcome Berlin cards - and to get some classic shots of the U Bahn
Blackstyle didn't open until late morning, but we found a great little East Berlin cafe for tea and cake whilst we waited - the German-only speaking waitress ably negotiated by our multi-lingual bear whilst Sir and I admired the 'Berlin Style' mix of 1960's furniture, valve radios and old typewriters.
I also noticed a rickety upright piano in a corner, and - doing something that I have never done before, but always wanted to - went over to tinkle out some scales. I was just trying to remember the short Telemann dance that I am currently learning (for my 2nd Grade in a few months - gulp!) when a pair of hands reached around me and rippled out a lovely piece of Bach; it turned out that our new French friend was an organist... Music really is an international language - and our shared keyboard fumbling quickly established a friendly connection that had been missing up until then...!
Full of tea and cake, we then headed back to Blackstyle.
The scent of rubber as the door opened was overwhelming - and deeply satisfying. We hadn't planned to purchase anything, but we did have great fun browsing through the endless racks of deeply perverse gear. We also managed to bumped into DogTrainer1974 again, and I had a pleasant chat with Him whilst and His pup Ska did some shopping - I even ended up giving his pup advice on suitable puppy bondage-mitts (much to my chagrin...!).
It was an enjoyable morning in good company - but the bear finally had to head back for his flight, so we headed for the U Bahn. The weather had improved, so we made our farewells at Alexanderplatz and headed up to the square for a stroll and a sightsee.
We were hungry, so stopped for a quick box of chips by the station - with the rattle of the trams and a whole row of sparrows watching over us - then, since we were so close, we decided to take a chance and have a quick look at the TV Tower itself.
Maybe it was just a quite Monday afternoon, but, despite what we'd been told, there wasn't the need to book and no substantial queue to face; we managed to buy a ticket immediately (benefiting from a nice little discount from our travel card), and made our way up to the weirdly retro '60's-astro' waiting room for our turn to head up to the viewing gallery. We only had to wait 10 minutes too - and then it was an ear-popping ride in the express lift to a panoramic view of the city from 300 feet in the air.
The views over the city were spectacular - made all the more impressive by a stormy sky and veils of rain across the horizon. It was fascinating to be able to see not only the entire city spread beneath us, but to be able read about its history and to be able locate so many landmarks of the C.20th. We spent a very happy couple of hours totally absorbed - and even treated ourselves to a cocktail at Bar 207 - feeling awfully sophisticated (well, for a dog, anyway)
Sight-seeing done, we headed back down to ground level with the rest of the afternoon still to fill - and decided to check out RubAddiction (the location of which we'd worked out whilst still above). We even got the excuse to hop a Tram...
I must say, they had some incredibly inventive gear on show, with a quality of cut and tailoring that belied the incredibly reasonable prices. I spotted a lovely small sized smoked-latex 'DOG' lettered T-shirt, which Sven let me try on, but sadly it was still too big for me. I think that Sir could have bought half the shop, but He finally fell in love with an incredible pair of saddle-seated wrestling pants; the pair on display weren't quite right, but Sven suggested that Sir have them made-to-measure - and so the pup had the genuine pleasure of watching His Man be professionally measured for His second piece of fetish Couture that weekend ;)
(I could have done the same with the T-shirt - but decided that I should save my puppy-pennies and have them measure me for one of their lovely catsuits next time we're in Berlin...)
Another tram through the dusk-darkened city took us back to the lovely SaladChen shop for a warming soupe and huge salad, chomping and chatting as the sun bathed the buildings around us in reds and golds and the city headed home around us.
Exhausted from our day, we finally decided to head 'home' for a wonderfully relaxed evening, watching a DVD in our room with a flask full of tea and a pile of chocolate - before turning in for snuggles and puppy butt-wiggles
Monday, September 23, 2013
We slept late on Sunday - not surprising, giving the late night and wild frollicking in the street from the night before. Luckily, our lovely hotel kept 'gay-hours' and provided breakfast until 4pm - so we still managed to snuggle and play a little before finally dragging ourselves out of bed for another glorious breakfast before a planned day of sightseeing...
At least, that was the plan - but it turned out that the Fuggestrasse fun was not yet done for the weekend, and many of the bars had kept their benches and tables out for a chilled day of drinking and socialising, and so we slipped into some leathers and headed down onto the street.
The dog had been hanging his head out of the window whilst we'd been getting ready, and got very excited about seeing a Master in a UK Police uniform and High-Vis (I have had the image curiously burned upon my erotic radar ever since a rather 'interesting' experience involving a kidnap scene, a rubber sleep-sack, and a police raid... ;) ), so I was really pleased when we got down to the street and I recognised the Master to be DogTrainer1974. I first chatted to Him on Recon and pupzone years back - in the days before I was found and collared by RubberGTR, and back when I was still heavily interested in rope and bondage; and so it was a real honour to be able to introduce myself to both Him and His pup Ska in person. Sadly, they hadn't spotted me in the street the night before, but both were complete gentleman, and Sir and my Man were able to share a companionable chat about all things puppy-related whilst I was complimenting Ska on his lovely new boots... ;)
Sir fancied a walk around, window-shopping on the Motzstrasse, so we made our respectful farewells and headed off in search of new leather...
Sir finally relented and let me into Mr B. - I was very good, and only bought a belt-pouch (to replace the incredibly useful one that Sir had lent me). I had hoped to try on their newly designed, heavily padded FXXer jeans, but they were newly released specially for the Folsom weekend, and their stock of smaller sizes had already gone.
I did persuade Sir to have a go at trying a pair, though, and after a little 'negotiation' with Onno about the correct size (with Sir winning out, of course...) He agreed that they were rather nice - and would look spectacular with His new leather uniform shirt...! Onno suggested that it might be interesting to have the padded thighs and cod-piece picked out in the same grey leather, so Sir has agreed to go back later in the month to match colours, when He has the shirt with Him.
Onno also told me that their next 'secret project' for next year will involve a redesign of their beautiful carpenter-jeans - so I think I'll have to wait a little while before my next big leather purchase... :D
Why is it that an afternoon nap is always so pleasant - and so deep...? Could it be that I am just getting old, and will soon be yearning for slippers and a cardigan...?!
We woke quite late - Man and dog drowslily surfacing in a dusk-tinted tangle of limbs and kicked-off duvet. I felt so warm and safe - and Sir smelt so incredibly sexy - and so I nuzzled into His pits to take in more of the puppy-cock-stirring scent: licking and lapping at the salt and the pheromones until my face and beard were wet and sticky. Sir let me get my fill of His scent, knowing that it drives me deep into puppy-space - then placed a firm hand on my collar, and gently guided me down to work that wet, seeking tongue over His balls: grooming, bathing, pressing and teasing - my nose nudging against His beautiful meat as my attentions slowly brought Him to full, hot arousal.
He let me lick Him then: long and slow - from root to tip; bathing His cock in devotion as I had bathed His balls. Only when He was shining and wet did He then let me take Him, gentle, into my mouth - rippling my tongue beneath the flat of His head and teasing the tip of my tongue into the crease of His frenulum and piss-slit.
Sir rose up onto His knees - turned me around so that I was lying fully beneath Him and could fully open my throat to Him. The full, pulsing heat of Him within me was so intense, so breathless, so erotic, that my puppy-cock was soon pulsing on the edge of an untouched orgasm - but Sir decided that our release would be sweeter for being delayed - and, with one last breath-stopping thrust, sent me trotting to run us both a shower ready to head back out for the evening.
Which is lucky, because that's also when the lovely Bear called on Sir's mobile, to ask if we still wanted to meet for supper - and that he'd meet us downstairs in a short while.
We tried, but sadly we didn't manage to catch up with Hogbear again - but we did have the most amazing Italian meal at Trattoria a Muntagnola (along with half the leather-clad men in Schoenberg, including *almost* sharing our table with the most beautifully bearded group of guys from England). The food was fantastic - but the company and the conversation (ranging from boots and fetish to Oceanography and Linguistics) was really the highlight of the evening.
Friday, September 20, 2013
It was fantastic to see heads turning as we came out of the lift and into the hallway. I waited patiently for my Man to open the door, then scampered out onto the steps - grinning as the guys gathered nearby took an appreciative step back to watch. Sir let me get my barrings (and my breath) for a moment, then snapped His lead to my harness, tapped His leg, and led us down the steps and into the crowded street.
It was really busy, and the crush didn't make it too easy for a pup to scamper as freely as he normally does; Sir was careful to lead the way and to call "Mind your backs: dog coming through...!" whenever the press was really bad, but I still had to keep close to Him and carefully weave around between boots - looking around as much as I dared, whilst trying not to be trampled on (or to trip anyone up!)
Sadly, I got so close to my Man at one point that I managed to collide with the buckles on His Alpine Stars: punching a small hole in the knee of my suit that rapidly tore into a huge, knee-baring rip throughout the rest of the evening, and meaning my suit is now no more :((
But, despite that small mishap, we still managed to work our way to the dog-pound for some squeaky-toy fun (and photos) - and to make a special dog-panting visit to the boots on the Stompers stall (although the nice Mr Stompers was busy with a customer, so I never got to really play with those lovely 18" Wescos of His)
Despite all the attention, we still managed to see all the other great characters on the street - including getting to wuff at a very sexy couple of guys in full Dianese leathers and black helmets, drooling at the sight of a couple of slaves being walked in full rubber, gasmasks and rebreathers, and marvelling at a trio of Frenchmen pulling a trolley - with a very sore looking slave tied to it and being whipped as they trundled along...
We also caught sight of several friends and brother-pups through the crowd - and bumped into LeatherScot and his pup for a little bit of playful head butting and butt-sniffing.
It was a warm afternoon, and running around in rubber is very tiring. Sir was careful to keep me topped up with doggy-treats and water, but I was losing litres of sweat (most of it dribbling out of my rear-zip - and making several people wrongfully tell the pup off for pissing in the street!).
By the end of two hours I was beginning to visibly flag, and Sir decided we'd had enough fun as a rubber-pup (plus, I was feeling sorry for Him having to constantly explain the damage to the knee of my suit) - so He led us back up to our room, gave the pup a long drink and a cooling shower, then had me change into a simple leather harness and jock, and head back down to the street for more play as a harnessed ink-pup instead.
Being naked was much cooler. Strange for a rubber-pervert to say, but I also felt a lot more 'natural' and pup-like...! Sir made sure that I wore stout boots and had lots of padding to protect my hands and knees (and elbows), but I found that I could move a lot more freely without the restriction and pull of my suit. It felt so good to be able to trot along gracefully - and I'm pleased to see just how natural and flat my running posture looks on the photos that I've seen. I even managed to out-pace my Man a few times - and looked back to see Him running to catch me up. I guess all the work-outs and yoga have done their job; maybe Sir should re-classify me as a whippet...
Both Sir and dog had lots of fun through the next several hours, trotting through the throng and playing up for our public. Every time we stopped, we gathered a crowd - and so Sir would send His pup off scampering after boots, playing hide-and-seek with its squeaky newspaper, or playing tag with the many photographers - amateur and professional.
We kept bumping into one lovely photographer in particular, as he followed us down the street - and he managed to capture some of the best photos of us from the day:
We also made a nice stop back at the Mr B. stall - and the pup rested his paws up on the counter to sniff at their goods - which had all the guys laughing. Anthony was there offering a professional boot-blacking service, so Sir let me trot around to watch him work; his customer at the time was a very sexy guy in Dehners who was a little startled to see a pup suddenly appear at his side - but Anthony very sweetly said "I think I know this pup, and he can watch if he's a good boy and doesn't get in the way" without breaking his attention from his work or His focus on the Man. It was both fascinating, and an honour to watch him at work.
Luckily, Classicair was there to capture some of the fun:
We were out on the street for about 4 hours altogether, but finally the crowds started to thin, and both Man and hound were starting to get tired - so Sir took us up to our room for one last change (and a quick top-up with fluids), then we both headed back down for a gentle 2-legs stroll.
I'm glad that we did, because we managed to catch up with Anthony again, just as they were starting to close down the Mr. B. stall - and he was very complimentary about how genuine and pup-like I had been.
All that scampering had made me hungry though so we went looking for something to eat. The crepery we had seen ealier had just closed, but we finally found the last piece of pizza in one of the street-side cafes, and happily wolfed it down, sitting bare arsed out on the street.
Finally - with the fair closing and the last few revellers making their way into PK - Man and hound retired up to our room, sleepy and tired but both grinning from a fantastic day.
Of course, we weren't so sleepy that the pup wasn't also able to properly service and pleasure my Man once we got to our room - and Sir still managed to find the strength to gentle trample His pup's eager perverted little cock beneath His Alpine Stars whilst it writhed and barked happily beneath Him - then cleaned it's own cum from His cleats... ;)
I didn't really mind that much though, because it gave me a chance to nuzzle my man's beautiful cock in the half-darkness - licking His balls until He awoke, growling His sleepy pleasure, then grabbing my head and gently pushing down into my willing throat whilst my puppy-but wagged high in the air.
Sir is fascinated by markets, and so we decided to spend the hour before Folsom opened looking at the Saturday market at Winterfeldtplat; we had a very pleasant time wandering around all the fascinating stalls of colourful food and craft items (and tasting samples of beautiful chocolate!), but finally the church bells began to ring out for midday, and we made our way back to Fuggerstrasse for a *different* kind of fair...
I didn't mind though - because I knew that we would be back a little later for more fun...
Thursday, September 19, 2013
I was so excited packing my leathers and pup-gear; Sir had promised that we would spend some pup-time on the street, and I couldn't wait (I have played in public a few times, but never in the street and in the daytime...). I couldn't decide what to take, but after several re-packs I was finally leathered and ready and heading down to meet my Man.
The flight out was mostly uneventful - although we did have fun when the woman on Security recognised us from our visit at Easter (I think it was me kneeling down to do up Sir's boots whilst He locked my collar on after passing through the metal detector that triggered her memory... ;) ). She was really excited at seeing us again, and wished us a safe flight with 'have a Fun weekend!'
It was an early flight and both Man and dog had been working hard - so I confess that we both had a doze over the Channel, with the dog's head resting on his Man's shoulder (and despite a hilarious welsh family behind us, chatting away constantly and mispronouncing everything on the 'Sky-Bistro' menu; "Do you want coke or brandy - and does our Da want a Bacon Baget...?")
We landed in Berlin, and managed to negotiate the S Bahn to the hotel (Sir is getting quite canny with the FahrKarten machines now). We have stayed at the Art Hotel Connection before, so we knew that we would have a good stay; our room for this visit was amazing: a huge room outfitted in the uniquely eclectic 'Berlin style' with a chandelier, a lovely 'robust' steel bed (with a very convenient headboard for restraining a dog to...), a huge leather sofa and beautiful big windows with a spectacular view over the Fuggerstrasse (perfect for watching the street market the next day).
Sir had ordered a new made-to-measure leather uniform shirt from Leathers on a previous (dog-less) trip earlier in the year, so we dropped our bags and headed out to Prenzlauer Berg on the U Bahn for His first fitting (thank goodness for the WelcomeBerlin 5 day travelcard).
Leathers is a fascinating little shop, focused towards couture leather; they showed us the beautifully soft grey lamb's leather that they had sourced for Sir's shirt, and then took Him into the back to try the toile they had made, whilst the lady assistant and I fussed the dozens of resident dogs, chatted about tattoos and compared ink (so busy doing which, we failed to notice when Sir had finished being fitted and made Him have to wait... ;) ).
Fitting complete, Sir made an appointment for the next fitting in leather for the next day, then we headed out to find something to eat. Sir had found a great veggie food place just nearby on His last visit, so we headed to Saladchen for a huge mix-and-match bowl of salad and an iced tea, and then sat out on their pavement cafe to eat and watch the U-Bahn, the trams and the world go by.
Sated, and with the evening still only part-gone, we headed back to Schoenberg and the hotel. As we expected, the view from our street-side window was rather good, so we picked up a hot tea from the cafe across the road, then hung out of the window to watch the BLUF guys gather for the pre-fair party at the Prinzknecht Bar beneath us.
It was fun, and a great start to the weekend - but the pup started to nod off, so Sir bundled into bed for a snuggle to the quiet hum of voices into the night.