Prisoner Hood...

A couple of months ago I had the girl choose a swathe of cloth with which to construct a prisoner hood worthy of Guantanamo. I wanted it to be thick enough to block out light but not so thick as to make it too stifling. I gave her the deadline to have it completed before this year's Thunder in the Mountains. So, as fate would have it, my smart-assed slave finally finished the hood in the last days leading into the Thunder weekend.

It was impressively constructed, folded twice and sealed with thick, sturdy seams. There is a draw string sewn into the bottom so that it can be tied tightly around the girl's neck, sealing her off inside. Nearly no light makes it through the bag, even when facing bright sources. And though it is a bit of a labor to breathe, it can remain on for long periods without much concern as to safety. I was quite pleased. The girl did a great job in contributing to her impending and repeated torment. I love slave labor!



Anyway, I packed it with the other toys headed to Thunder, mingling amid the ropes and whips, chains and leather in my toy bags. I fully intended to utilize it in the public play space. I had a scene all planned out involving the stocks, 25 count zippers, the whips, sensation toys, nipple clamps, my new stun gun, and the hood. Oh the fun we would have had. Unfortunately, the opportunity did not arise while we were there.

So I instead used it on her for the first time last night. When I returned home from work, the girl met me at the door with a big hug, grinding her hips into my leg. Needing no further coaxing, we were upstairs in moments. I laid the hood on the bed and relished the look of nervous anticipation that spread over her face. Once naked and allowed into bed, I belted the girl's arms to her chest and pulled the hood over her head, tying the cord snugly around her neck. I did get one snapshot real quick. Being claustrophobic, her reactions were delightful and immediate.


Fucking her in such a helpless state is divine. The girl's head flops back and forth, seeking any way to ease her labored breathing. Unable to do so, her moans of ecstasy are clipped and at a desperate pitch. Watching her minute reactions drives me to the height of passion; the shudder in her ribs as she fights the growing panic, the gripping of her cunt around my cock as she is rushed to the edge by fear and desire, and listening to the tremor in her squeals as she begs to cum. How exquisitely she dances in my bed, caught in the tidal throes. Poetry in motion. 


I allowed her a brief moment to catch her breath, pulling the hood up over her face. The girl gasped and sputtered her thanks. Then, down the hood came and we began again. Being inside the hood for a second time wore on her composure even more than before. In no time, she was gasping to be allowed to cum. I allowed her, as I am sometimes merciful. When she was spent, I removed the hood completely and continued enjoying her talents unveiled. My slave begs with her whole body, such pleading in her wide, dilated eyes. I can hardly deny myself a chance to peer into them as she gasps, teetering on the edge. Again she came for me, gripping my hips and driving me in with the surprising strength in her gorgeous legs. 


As she regained her composure, I pulled the hood back on over her head, ignoring her sobbing pleas for mercy. I sealed the hood tightly once more around her throat and hammered her cunt. After so much, the girl had little composure left and was helpless to stop the panic that washed over her. The girl's breathing was short and clipped, on the verge of hyperventilating as she struggled against the belts. Sobbing, she was beyond words and unable to beg, yet her cunt was soaked with moisture. Still I fucked her until I felt my own orgasm erupt within her. 


Finally, I removed the bag one last time and talked her through returning to a normal breath. The panic in her eyes was delicious and unmistakable. Eventually, she was able to regain enough of her wits to be released from the constriction of the belts, which aided her breathing. Weakly, the girl smiled at me offering her thanks for the experience and asked me if I had gotten a chance to climax. So out of it was she that she hadn't noticed. I told her I had, but that it was cut a bit short as I wanted to get her breathing back under control as soon as I could. 


The slave made a sad face then and said that I shouldn't have cheated myself. That she knew she wasn't going to die in the hood and that my pleasure came first. I couldn't help but smile, what a good and selfless girl I own. I offered to put it back on, but she declined. Needless to say, I was very proud of her for how well she handled having her phobias pushed. And again, I love having the chance to prove just how much of a masochistic slut she is by showing how she responds to such treatment. Such a good little slave girl...