Thanks to everyone for reading the first three parts. Apologies for the delay in delivering this section, I found it difficult to get how it should be and I'm still not sure it's Ok.
I hope you enjoy this 4
th
instalment, please give feedback and comments.
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It is mainly a single piece of soft moulded black leather that smoothly wraps smoothly around a human head. It has lacing that runs down from the crown to the back of the neck. There is an additional piece of leather behind the lacing that allows it to be tightened without hair being caught up in the laces. Also there are two small padded areas that add pressure over the eyes to keep all light out. The only skin visible would be the wearers mouth when it is in place. It is currently sitting over a large sweet jar, on the sideboard in my front room. 2 hours ago it was wrapped around my head as I licked the woman, Mistress, from across the road to what I think was an enjoyable climax. I can't quite get my head around how it happened. 11 hours before the licking I was gifted with a small black kidd leather ankle boot in need of some tender care. To go from boot care to woman care it just took a few good feelings and following a few simple commands. On the way I seemed to give up my ability to make decisions for myself.
On returning to my flat, I'd cleaned and dried the hood of all my sweat and ...Mistresses juices. I started with a my tongue. The taste was still fresh, musky, slightly sweet. In the background the smell of leather just made my heart sing. Once I was down to the taste of leather I used an antibacterial wipe, then a towel and then a dry soft cloth. To try to maintain its soft, supple feel I applied a little polish and slowly worked it into the leather. Taking care to bring it to a perfect shine. I couldn't work it too hard for fear of altering the moulding in such soft leather. The smell was almost overwhelming. I was hard between my legs but if I was going to continue my adventure, I'd been ordered not to masturbate. It took a fair amount of willpower not to just lightly stroke it. I knew, once I started I wouldn't stop. Was gratification now worth the loss of something more lasting in the future. Tough choice but I kept my hands clear.
Looking at the hood laying flat on my coffee table, it didn't seem right. It needs to be displayed but I didn't have one of those polystyrene forms used for wigs and hats. After a dig into a couple of cupboards I came up with an empty sweet jar from last Christmas. With a T-shirt as padding it seemed to work ok so I put it on the sideboard. With the hood sorted my own physical needs came to mind. I was thirsty. My knees were sore. My back ached. If this was from a short evening session how was I going to feel tomorrow starting at 11. This led onto thoughts of what might happen tomorrow , which lead to more issues between my legs.
With a shudder I headed for the kitchen and a drink, something cold. I ended drinking milk straight out of the carton.
Now for the aches. This was one of those times I missed not having a bath or a partner. I would have to cope with a steam in the shower and a probably unsuccessful self back rub.
Standing in the shower devolved into sitting in the shower tray with water raining down on my head shoulders and upper back. Eventually I got out and dried off. Trying to use the towel to massage my back.
So two hours after my encounter with Mistress I sat in my favourite chair looking at the hood on the sideboard. The aches were less, I wasn't thirsty. I couldn't get my head straight. Nothing on the television could hold my attention, my usual diversion into the internet didn't seem to help. It all just felt bland compared to the feelings I'd had. Shortly I headed to bed. An hour later and I still wasn't sleeping. With a sigh of exasperation, I stomped into the front room, grabbed the hood and took it back to bed. Thanks to the back panel lacing the hood on was easy. Again, the eye pads quickly took the light. I could feel the leather hugging my entire head. My nose was quickly filled with the scent of warm leather. After finishing the lacing I could only really hear anything when something brushed against the side of my head. I felt held and safe. I settled down to sleep.
I found myself standing in a small room. One wall was covered in shelves and pigeon holes. On each surface was a piece of leather, some finished to a bright shine, others with the soft velvety finish of suede. The smell of leather was intense. It was the leather stock room from a shoe factory.
"Well boy? The choice is yours." It was Mistress voice behind me. I turned but all I could see was a dark outline. The full glass window behind her let in so much light I was nearly blinded. She stepped forward and towered over me. I found I was kneeling looking up at a pair of crotch length red boots. The shiny pointed toes and 7 inch heels were right in my face.
"Worship, lick and embrace or deny yourself, get out and live frustrated. It is your choice."
When faced with those boots and the air full of the smell of leather, there is no choice. I start to lick and worship the boots straight away. I have no will power in this situation. The smell the feel of smooth leather against my tongue, the feel of a warm foot through the leather. All is beautiful.
"Good boy."
Each lick takes me higher, both in sensation and up the boots. I'm getting harder, my pulse is getting faster, my breathing is getting shorter. The feeling of happiness is increasing. When I my tongue gets to her knees I feel the hard edge of the sole of a boot starts to rub my hardness.
"Good boy, higher boy." The sensations keep building, then I feel her hands in my hair. She's pulling me up. My tongue against the boot, the feeling of her warm leg beneath the leather, the smell of leather, the stroking of my heads. I'm getting higher, it's harder to concentrate but I only have one job. To lick.
I feel a soft caress on both sides of my cock. It's the leather ankles of the boots. That boney ridge on the sides of her ankles provides pressure points on either side of my hardness. My hips start to jerk forward and I push myself between her legs. Her hands crush my head against the leather on her thighs. I can no longer see anything, I feel held, I smell leather. I feel safe. I'm over excited. Then suddenly, I feel release. I start to spirt between her legs but it rebounds and I feel a warm stickiness spread on my stomach and thighs. Oh Mistress. I think I black out. I don't feel anything.