The pictures feature:
Mistress Mir and slave steve
Photography credit: Sir D.
Slide of :
Hello fellow slaves,
I wish to share with you my session with Mistress Mir and her close friend Sir D. The photos are special and my Mistress "marking" me was very special. This she does not participate in, at all with other submissives. Enjoy my special moments.
My diary by slave steve
En route to Mistress Mir's beautiful place, I confirm my appointment on the car phone.
Mistress Mir informs me Sir D. will be assisting her today. Sir D. is very cool, so of
course this is OK. Then Mistress asks me an odd question: "Do you have any reservations
about today?" Hmmm. We had discussed what might be happening today. I guess it's what might
be called "edge play". But, then and now, I trust Mistress Mir completely.
When I arrive Sir D. opens the door. Sir is casual but sexy in black leather jeans, biker boots and a tight tank top. I get down on my knees and kiss the black boots. We go up the stairs. Mistress Mir beckons to me at the top of the stairs. With a firm command, I drop to my knees to greet her properly, as I was taught. I must kiss each of her feet with feeling. I didn't do it with enough passion the first time, so I was made to do it again.
The Mistress Mir experience: Candlelight, a fine red wine, soft music - everything I've come to expect. I know the plan. Soften me up with some wine, her seductive voice, her beauty, her provocative outfits, and then, the inevitable: Her in control. It happens this way every time. And every time, I can't resist her. I strip. I'm naked and on my knees before her. As we talk, the world I know starts to recede and fade away. Now, I'm in her world.
Mistress is so sexy in garter belt, smoky black stockings and high heels. She wears a lacy, black,see-through bodice and skirt. A French corset cinches the waist. Her full breasts overflow the top of the corset. Mistress breaks my silent revelry by asking if I am scared or nervous about the events to unfold. I honestly say "No" and tell her again that I trust her totally.
Sir D. makes fun of the cigarettes I was told to buy: Misty Lights 120s. Sir D. says they're very feminine and slaps me in my face with the pack. Sir slaps the pack into his hand a few times to loosen the cigarettes andopens the pack by my ear. He asks me if the sounds turn me on. I admit that they do.
A large, clear, plastic tarp is spread out on the dungeon floor. I'm positioned in the middle of it and the "fun" begins. Folded hand towels are placed under my upper arms and between my knees. I'm told this is to help the circulation during prolonged bondage. An industrial-size roll of high-strength, clear, plastic wrap is opened, and with Mistress Mir and Sir D. on either side of me, working together, passing the roll to each other. I am slowly,extremely tightly, methodically, wrapped, from ankles to neck, in the plastic. I can only move my head.
Next, the plastic, funnel gag is buckled snugly around my head. It has a large diameter pipe which sticksdeep into my mouth, forcing my jaws wide open. Soon, this pipe will be the only way I can breathe. Now my head is being wrapped up and down, around and around, sealed shut, and the plastic wrap twisted and pulled tight around my neck. I try breathing through my nose, but I feel the plastic around my head closedown tight. Nose breathing is not an option even though I think Mistress and Sir believed I can still breathe through gaps in the plastic. Well, the plastic wrap sealed perfectly around my head.
Helpless now, I'm being choked, high up my neck, under the jaw. I fight to open my eyes against the tight plastic. Sir D is choking me. I'm getting light headed and she stops. It's tough to see through the layers of plastic. All I can see are dark shapes in the dimly lit room. So, I just keep my eyes closed.
To add insult to injury, as helpless as I am, I am made more helpless by shiny, silver duct tape going aroundmy ankles, my knees, hips, waist and hands and chest and arms. Mistress Mir and Sir D are not fooling around. They are pulling tight all the way around. I'm getting used to breathing through the funnel I'm nervous since my nose is squashed by the plastic wrap. I can only breathe through the funnel.
I'm made to hop and wiggle over to the slant board and I'm pushed backwards and I fall against the soft leather padding. I'm leaning backwards now, with only the board holding me up. There is a rubber stopper that dangles from a chain on the funnel gag and Mistress Mir demonstrates its use by pushing it into place. I'm sealed shut. I can't make a sound, let alone breathe. I try to be good like Mistress taught, but I panic a little and struggle to shake my head "no." The gag is removed then the clear, PVC tube is inserted in it s place.
I hear Mistress Mir lighting a long, all-white. Misty 120. How I wish I could have seen that. My next experience is warm smoke rushing into my throat and into my lungs. Over and over, smoke is rushing into me as Mistress drags and then exhales into the clear tube. My breathing tube has now become a smoking tube. Sometimes a hand goes over the end of the tube keeping the smoke deep inside me. Other times, when the tube is open, I can only imagine what the smoke looks like as it rushes out on my exhale.
What really weakens me and starts to break me down is Mistress holding her hand with the cigarette over the end of my breathing tube. Now I struggle to inhale and get a little oxygen, but a lot more smoke. Breath after breath, fighting to breathe and getting only creamy, white smoke. I'm a little woozy as Mistress and Sir gently ease me to the plastic covered, deep pile rug in the dungeon. I hear lighters being flicked to life and soon I'm getting more smoke forced into me by both Mistress Mir and Sir D.
Now my cock is being cut out of it's plastic prison. For the second time, Mistress Mir has mentioned that she has to pee. It finally sinks in what she means, when my most beautiful, perfect, black Goddess, straddles myhelpless body, hikes up her skirt, smiles down at me, and then let's loose a trickle which becomes a steady forceful stream of her golden essence, into the funnel and down my throat. I'm helpless to do anything but swallow quickly so I can continue to breathe. It's hard because my sweet, sexy Mistress keeps the flow going and I have to gulp and gulp and then hope for a little sip of air. I swallow a lot. A lot bounces off my face I can' t see, but I imagine my head is in a little golden pool. Finally it's over and I'm left to savor and swallow the last few drops trickling onto my tongue. It's salty and feels soft in my mouth.
I feel proud that this has apparently pleased my Mistress. I feel like I've just been to church. Do you know that feeling? Even while being abased in this way. I still feel special and serene. And do you know why? It's because something that was inside of Mistress Mir, is now inside of me.
The funnel is removed. My jaw aches from being forced open for so long. There's no rest though as my head is re-wrapped in plastic. A Mlsty 120 cigarette is duct taped to my cock. I can only imagine why A slender tube is pushed through the plastic into my mouth. At the other end, another Misty seals the opening and is lit. Mistress Mir is lighting me. The cigarette on my cock is also lit. My task according to Mistress is to smoke the Misty in the tube before the other one bums my dick.
Just normal breathing brings the smoke into me. It's harsh. Not being a smoker, I start to cough. But the tube stays in and the cigarette glows with each inhale. I'm informed that the cock cigarette is "winning" Now I wrap my lips around the slender tubing and suck the hot smoke into me over and over so that I don't get burned "down there." The smoke is hot and caustic in my throat. I'm hot, sweating and completely permeated with smoke now. I'm being swaddled now in the Piss covered, plastic sheet. All I do, all I want to do is just concentrate on being a good slave and so I suck on the tube and get dizzy with the Misty smoke and then again and again. Finally, I can breathe. The slender tube is removed. I've smoked the cigarette to completion.
Sir D is a little more assertive now as she brings back the wide tube and rams it into my mouth. I watch her light a 120, draw strongly, then exhale as I inhale. After I inhale as she wants, her hand smothers me, keeping the smoke inside me. She hits me again and again with the smoke and then holds it in with his hand over my mouth and nose. Sir D strangles me again with his hand high up under the jaw. This definitely hurts. It would definitely put me "out" if he kept it up.
Time has stopped for me. I only know I'm here now, serving my Mistress, trying to please, or at least amuse. I'm floating. Maybe it's the lack of fresh air. Maybe it's being able to clearly see Mistress Mir's smile as my head is unwrapped. It's a high voltage smile. You would glow too when you're face to face with Mistress Mir and she hits you with that radiant smile!
But then all too soon, a black out takes place: A black leather blackout. Sir D straddles my head and sits on my face, my mouth sealed shut by the leather. The smell of the leather is intoxicating and now I feel Mistress Mir beginning to stroke my dick with a vibrator. No reaction. The smoke and smothering and plastic has taken the starch out of me it appears.
Mistress Mir brings out the heavy artillery. This is the big vibrator with the mushroom head that could wake the dead" as she likes the say. It eventually has the desired effect and I can't fight it anymore. I'm smothering, I'm being stroked, and then every cell in my body just lets go. My orgasm builds as a wave. Powerless, I let it take me for a ride, that delicious ride, and finally the crash on the shore as I explode into ecstasy. My screams muffled between the leather encased legs of Sir D.
Later coming back to reality, I smile at Sir D's slavegirl who has been ordered to clean up. At the diningroom table we all (except for slavegirl) share another glass of wine and discuss the events of the day. With sadness a final farewell to Mistress Mir and one last kiss on each of her feet. I head down the stairs, out the door and back into the real world.