Miss Kelli’s Playroom

At first glance, you wouldn’t think that Kelli Jo Kelly could be a dominatrix. She’s beautiful, yes, and has a body hot as hell and twice as sinful. But there’s the girl-next-door name, and then there’s the simple fact that she’s a half inch under five feet, and weighs probably less than ninety pounds. Add to that her curly red hair, her freckles, her ever-present grin, and the fact that at even a slight distance, she looks like she just sprang from a road company of “Annie,” and that even in-scene she prefers jeans and a t-shirt to fetishwear, and most submissives would naturally conclude that she’s not exactly classic Teutonic domme-bitch material.

However…

However, when you set appearances aside and look a little deeper, you find that Miss Kelli  – her domme name – has a mind so devious, so warped, and so gleefully and creatively sadistic that she turned out to be the dominatrix of my dreams… and maybe yours, too.

I had been invited to Miss Kelli’s dungeon for “something special,” words which gave me pause, knowing her as I did. I arrived on time at her rear door and was admitted by Miss Kelli herself, looking like the sluttiest schoolgirl who ever got kept after school by her every lustful teacher.  She wore a tiny plaid miniskirt that made only a half-hearted effort at covering her flawless rump, and a carelessly buttoned white blouse that failed miserably in its purpose of concealing her delightfully perky breasts. Her hair was done up in pigtails, festooned with ribbons of a dozen colors. And she wore old-fashioned granny glasses which her bright blue eyes did not need.

Miss Kelli invited me into her kitchen and then invited me to strip naked, asked me if I wouldn’t like to fold my clothes neatly and place them into a large Tupperware canister resting in the kitchen sink. I obeyed – I know an order when I hear one, no matter how politely it’s phrased – and got all my clothes except my shoes into the canister. (My shoes were left beside the kitchen door, and were never seen by me again.) I was then invited to fill the container with water, cap it tightly shut, and place it in her freezer. Again, I obeyed.

Miss Kelli walked about me in a very tight circle, her hip grazing against my bare body, inspecting me, as much with her fingertips and her very sharp fingernails as with her eyes, and before I could guess her intent, she pulled a ribbon from her hair, drew my hands together behind my back, and tied my thumbs tightly together. Producing a small loop of latex from within her white blouse, she bent me over and slipped it over my head, blindfolding me securely. She then got a painfully tight grip upon my earlobe and led me down the short hall to her playroom.

The playroom was filled with the voices of a dozen or more women talking and laughing, and Miss Kelli led me by the ear through the cacophony of sound. She stopped me, told me to stay, and I was briefly left alone and unattended. But only briefly.

Miss Kelli said, “Bend over,” and I did. I felt cool, smooth fingers greasing my anus, inside and out, and then I felt the jarring penetration of a significantly large dildo sliding into my ass. I was told to stand up straight, and I did. A moment later, brisk and efficient fingers began manipulating my cock and balls, working them, wedging them through a small opening, and within a brief time, I had been fitted with a very tight cock ring, from which dangled wires or cords that I could feel brushing against my bare thighs. I felt my cock begin to grow hard.

And then I felt Miss Kelli’s hands upon me, guiding me, moving me. I was given careful, specific instructions, and I moved forward, walking gingerly, bent far over. As I moved, I felt smooth latex brushing against my head and bare shoulders, and then that same feeling of latex came beneath my bare feet.

Miss Kelli’s hands upon my head, I was told to stand up straight. There was resistance against my head, and I moved and wriggled and squirmed and pushed, realizing that I was pushing my head through a small flexible opening of some sort. I also realized that there was a second person close by me, for I felt my head brush against soft warmth that couldn’t have been anything but a woman’s breasts, and Miss Kelli was behind me. I came fully erect – both my body and my cock – and I felt soft latex draped about my shoulders and laying loosely about my neck. And then soft, strong fingers took hold of my blindfold and removed it.

The lights in the room were bright and I blinked against them, trying to see, and not seeing much because almost instantly, a close-fitting gas mask was strapped tightly over my face, the type with the large insect-like eyes. (The gas mask’s eyes, that is, not mine.) But I did see what I stood within – a large, upright vacuum bed, and more significantly, one built for two.

I was not alone in the upright vacuum bed. Standing only inches before me, her head also protruding from one of the twin latex collars topping the bed, was a woman, her head concealed by a large gas mask, twin to mine, and by a heavy rubber hood. I could see that she had pale skin and brilliant green eyes; I could see nothing else of her.

A heavy rubber collar was now fitted about my neck and about the vacuum bed’s collar, locking me in place, and I felt tugs at the cords on my cock ring, and then fingers undoing the knots of the ribbon binding my thumbs. Once my thumbs were free, I felt my arms guided until they stood straight out from my sides. Fingers fumbled at my fingers, and I grasped at them, and felt my hands clasping the slender hands of a woman, the woman who shared the vacuum bed with me, I realized. Our fingers intertwined and interlaced, and we gripped each other tightly.

Hands were now guiding my legs together and, just before they met, a large object with a wide head – doubtless an industrial-strength vibrator – was inserted between my legs, my thighs holding it in place.

And then I felt the coolness of a gentle breeze upon my bare flesh, or rather, the absence of that coolness, for the quiet zipper of the vacuum bed was being drawn, sealing this faceless, anonymous woman and me within the upright latex framework.

Taking advantage of our isolation, the woman and I each moved forward, brushing our naked bodies against one another. My erect cock found her pussy and moved around it, teasingly. She was wet and she was ready and her pussy leapt for my cock and took it within her and clamped down on me like the grip of a panhandler on a hundred dollar bill.

For a long moment…nothing.

And then, there was a distant roaring and I felt the latex all about us move in tight embrace, caressing us, hugging us, holding us close, pressing our bodies together, her breasts crushed into my chest, her nipples hard as diamond, until we became as one and the latex became as a second skin, forcing my cock deeper and deeper within this nameless, faceless woman, and tightening her pussy’s grip upon my cock until it verged on pain.

I could not move. My body was held absolutely motionless by the vacuum bed. My head was immobilized by the heavy collar. And my cock was held in close restraint by my bedmate.

I felt hands on me, hands from outside, and I realized that I was being petted, caressed, perhaps polished by someone, perhaps by several people. The hands softly moved from my heels to my shoulders, covering every inch in between, but paying especial attention to my butt. It was wonderful.

But wonderful as it was, it was not Miss Kelli, as I now caught a glimpse of her off to my side. She was doing something with the connection of my gas mask, hooking a tube in place, and doing the same with my bedmate’s mask. I could not move my head for a good look, but from the corner of my eye I could dimly see Miss Kelli hooking our breathing tubes to a glass cylinder holding within a blue liquid, through which bubbles now began to rise. And as my breathing began to grow more difficult, with less air coming in and taking more effort to bring in each breath, I realized that Miss Kelli was indulging in one of her favorite fiendish pastimes, breath play. And we were the toy.

Miss Kelli vanished from my line of sight, and I looked straight ahead, catching the eyes of my bedmate, as she studied my face. I raised an eyebrow. She winked. And then, if anything, she tightened her pussy’s grip upon my cock still further. I groaned.

Time passed.

And then, very faintly, I felt something stirring, like fingers gently brushing my skin, and I realized that the various devices, whether inserted within me, attached to me, or held in place by me, were all coming to life, and all of them under the control of Miss Kelli. They were vibrators, one and all, and they were beginning to do their work.

The vibrators were being worked to no pattern I could figure. First the one in my butt would rev up, then fade, and then fall into unison with the massive vibrator between my legs, and then both would fade away as the vibrating cock ring would move into prominence. My cock grew harder than it had ever been in my life, twitching and jerking as though begging for climax. That very lack of pattern made it all the more devastating, all the more difficult to resist being conquered by the fiendish imagination at the controls.

After but a few minutes, the vibrators had taken such a hold on me that my legs were buckling, and, had I not been supported by the latex, tightly gripping my body room from toes to shoulders, I would have collapsed. My body was running a raging fever, sweat was pouring down my face in a torrent, and the gas mask’s eyepieces had completely fogged over, blindfolding me as effectively as had the latex earlier in the evening.

All I was truly conscious of was the naked woman’s body pressed against mine, her breasts and hips pressed inseparably to my bare flesh, her pussy holding my cock helplessly captive, her own set of vibrators coming through her flesh to add to the symphony of vibration, her heart pounding audibly against mine. My breath was racing, each breath less difficult than before, yet somehow less productive, and I knew, with what little thought was left to me, that we were now breathing in unison, our bodies no longer our own.

Miss Kelli owned us now. I was no longer a man. The faceless, nameless woman pressed tight to me, no longer a woman. We were no longer persons, but merely a single toy, the property of Miss Kelli, existing for nothing except her amusement.

The vibrations grew and grew to more than I could withstand, yet my limits were gone as though they had never been. I did not endure; I did not surf the sensation; I did not rise above the experience; I was beyond any of those. I now existed only in the imagination of Miss Kelli. She had created me, and I was hers. I was nothing without her, could be nothing without her, would not exist without her.

Then Miss Kelli must have maxed all the vibrators at once, for my vac-bedmate’s body convulsed against mine, her fingers nearly crushing mine in their suddenly vise-like grip, and my cock nearly tore itself free as I came and I came and I came and I came. And then the world was gone.

When next I was aware, the vibrations were down to a bare tease, and I was conscious of being still completely unable to move, of breathing more easily (though I still wore the gas mask) and of the delightful feeling of a bare-naked woman’s body pressed tight to mine. I opened my eyes blearily and saw Miss Kelli’s bright eyes and bright grin up close against my gas mask’s lens.

“Enjoy the ride?” she asked.

I could not move in any way, of course, so I winked. She grinned more widely still.

“Great! The audience loved it, too, and the pay-per-view sales were terrific. Well, you get a nice nap now, rest up, because the second act starts pretty soon, and it’s gonna be a long night.”

Miss Kelli patted me affectionately on the head as I stared at her, winked again in obedience to her will, and closed my eyes. I slept.

THE END

28.07.09