I stood in the dimly lit, soundproof chamber known as The Studio, a place where pleasure and pain mingle with the scent of leather, rubber and sweat.

The Slave, a meticulous man dressed in a simple leather apron, stood before me, holding a complex black leather body harness that seemed more of an art form than a mere garment. His eyes met mine in the mirror as he began to fasten the intricate web of straps and rings around my body. As each buckle clicked into place, the cold metal pressed against my skin, a reminder of the world I willingly entered.

As I gazed at my reflection, the harness transformed me, the fasteners and loops hinting at the potential for submission and control that would lie in the presence of Mistress G. I awaited her summons, the harness a silent part of the trust and boundaries that we would test within these walls.

He looked at me, saying, "Just one more piece to finish you off."

He held up a dark, metallic horn in one hand and took my half-hard penis in the other.

"I'm sure I can fit it inside."

I looked down to see Slave gripping my penis tightly, his hand surprisingly warm against my skin. With practised ease, he ran a finger around my cock head, spreading the pre-cum dripping out of me. He aligned the metallic horn with an opening at the base of the harness. He squeezed gently, guiding my cock through the initial resistance until the tip of the horn was nestled snugly against my body. As he secured the horn, the harness tightened further, sending a jolt of both discomfort and arousal through me as the cold metal pressed against my shaft. The final buckle was fastened, and the horn's was a constant reminder of the role I was about to play in a game of dominance and submission.

With the horn in place, I was ready and prepared to meet Mistress G, the harness a declaration of my willingness to submit to whatever she desired. The thought made my shaft harden inside the horn, pressing against its metal prison.

The Slave, noticing the change in my demeanour, gave me an approving nod. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, the metallic horn now standing erect from the harness, perfectly constricting my fully engorged penis. My erection tingled in anticipation of my impending audience with Mistress G grew stronger. I saw myself in the mirror, a living, breathing embodiment of submission, my desires and fears laid bare before me. The harness felt like a second skin now, the horn a symbol of my readiness to serve.

The sharp clack of Mistress’s high-heeled boots echoed through the corridor outside The Studio's door, growing louder with each step. The Slave stepped aside, leaving me to stand alone and await her entrance. My anticipation was intense when the door swung open, revealing Mistress G in all her dominating glory. She wore a form-fitting latex dress, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, and her eyes gleamed with excitement as she took in the sight of me in the elaborate black leather harness and metallic horn. She approached me with a predatory stride, and her gaze lingered on the erect horn jutting from my crotch.

“Hello, Bent. Are you ready for me?”

My nerves were on edge because she was an extremely sadistic woman.

“Yes, Mistress.”

She looked at me, then grabbed the horn in her hand. Mistress’s grip on the metallic horn was precise, her movements calculated to inflict a controlled amount of pain. As she twisted the horn left and right, I felt my body tense, and a bolt of agony shot up my shaft, causing my eyes to water. The sensation was intense, pain that sent waves of fear and excitement through my core. I struggled to maintain composure while the room spun slightly from the sudden rush.

Mistress gave The Slave his first order, “Bind his hands behind.”

The Slave, ever obedient, moved swiftly behind me, and his hands deftly wrapped a set of cuffs around my wrists. He pulled them tight, the leather biting into my skin as he secured them with a click, ensuring there was no escape.

He then attached a length of chain to D-rings on the cuffs, pulling my arms taut and forcing them down my back. The chain was fastened to a ring on the harness at the base of my spine, effectively immobilising me.

Mistress G watched the entire process with a smug smile, her eyes never leaving the horn covering my throbbing penis. Once my hands were bound, she stepped behind me, and her fingers traced the line of the chain before giving it a firm tug. The horn dug into me, sending another jolt of pain through my body. I stood there, bound and exposed, the embodiment of her control.

Mistress spoke to The Slave, “You may leave us.”

He nodded obediently and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The soles of Mistress’s boots echoed as she circled me, scrutinising every inch of my bound form. She ran her fingernails along the leather straps, tracing the contours of my body with a touch that sent shivers down my spine.

"Get down on the floor and pray for my mercy."

I dropped to my knees on the cold, hard floor. The horn dug into my abdomen as I lowered myself, the pain a reminder of my submission. Mistress stepped closer, her heels clicking as she positioned herself to one side of me. She knelt, reached beneath my body and gripped the base of the horn, tilting it slightly to the side. With a flick of her wrist, she sent it bobbing up and down, creating waves of pain through my groin.

Mistress stood, and then I felt her boot press firmly into the small of my back, pushing me down until my cheek rested against the cool, hard floor. The pressure increased, forcing me to arch my back and lift my bottom. The horn dug even deeper into my abdomen as I struggled to remain still under her dominance.

Her stiletto heel dug deep into the flesh of my back and sank into my skin. The sharp pain caused me to gasp. The sensation of the cold metal penetrating my skin sent a jolt through my body, adding to the pain from the horn. I felt a warm trickle of blood slowly seep down my side as she maintained the pressure.

In my mind, there was a constant, comforting thought, “I am a pain slut; I need this.”

“Get up, Bent.”

Mistress took her boot from my back, allowing me to rise, albeit with some difficulty.

I stood, the leather and metal harness biting into my skin with every movement, and she nodded in approval at my obedience.

She stepped closer, her presence dominating my vision.

"Now, you need to be silenced."

Mistress reached into her pocket and withdrew a black rubber ball with an attached tube. She stepped closer, her breath warm against my face as she lifted my chin. The smell of rubber filled my nostrils as she opened my mouth and inserted the ball, filling it. The ball pressed into the corners of my mouth. The gag muffled any sounds I might make, leaving me at the mercy of her whims.

She took a moment to admire the way my mouth fought against the intrusion, my cheeks bulging slightly around the gag. She lifted the bulb at the end of the tube projecting from my lips and squeezed it several times. I felt the ball begin to expand, filling the cavity of my mouth. The pressure increased as more air was pumped into the gag, and I struggled as my mouth and cheeks bulged out. My eyes watered as the gag became larger and the rubber pressed against my teeth and tongue.

The inflation stopped abruptly, and I was left with the sensation of being filled, unable to make a sound beyond muffled grunts. Then I realised I could not breathe. My airways were blocked. My lungs started to heave, and I desperately needed air.

Mistress's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the panic in my eyes and realised she had gone a step too far with the gag.

She quickly moved to the side of my face and pressed a valve button on the gag tube, allowing air to escape with a hiss. The pressure in my mouth subsided, and I was able to gasp for some air. She leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear.

"Naughty boy," she whispered. Her tone was a mixture of amusement and reprimand.

"We don't want any accidents, do we?"

She then took a step back, her heel clacking against the floor, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Now, what shall we make my first punishment?"

The gag stopped me from replying, and I waited nervously for her decision.

Mistress's eyes narrowed, and she tapped the tip of the metallic horn with a manicured nail, sending a shiver of pain down my shaft.

She was considering my bound state, and then a cruel smile played on her lips. She reached down and took the horn in her hand, giving it a firm tug and making me gasp through my nose. She seemed to be contemplating, enjoying my vulnerability.

Mistress pulled on the chain attached to my harness, guiding me to a wooden frame that stood tall and sturdy in the centre of the room. It was fitted with various hooks and restraint points, used during countless scenes of submission and dominance within The Studio's walls.

She deftly manoeuvred me into place, my bound hands unable to resist her insistent tugs. With a swift motion, she clipped the chain to one of the upper rings on the frame, effectively trapping me in place. The horn on my penis swayed with my movement, the cold metal a reminder of my predicament.

Mistress proceeded to attach more chains to various points on my harness, her movements swift and decisive. She fastened one around each of my ankles, then clipped them to the lower rings of the wooden frame, spreading my legs apart. Next, she secured my wrists to the upper corners of the frame with more leather cuffs, the chains rattling with each adjustment. As she tightened the last cuff, I felt my body stretched and pulled taut, my muscles strained by the pose. The horn still protruded from my crotch, and each shift of my position sent a fresh wave of pain through my sensitive flesh. The harness felt like a vice holding me in place, and my perception narrowed to focus solely on the leather pressed into my body and the unforgiving grip of the chains. I was standing spread-eagled, utterly exposed at Mistress's mercy.

Mistress approached me with a riding crop in hand, the leather tip swaying with each step she took. She ran the crop along the length of my body, tracing the leather straps of the harness and pausing at the base of the horn.

With a flick of her wrist, she brought the crop down hard on my abdomen, the impact resonating into my groin. I felt my knees buckle, the pain a shocking reminder of the power she wielded over me. She spent a moment appreciating the reddened welt that formed on my skin before moving to the next part of my body, leaving a trail of pain in her wake.

The force of the crop's impact made me jerk against the restraints, the chains rattling with the sudden movement. Despite my muffled screams, Mistress’s eyes lit up at the sign of my pain. She took a step back, the riding crop poised in the air as she assessed her target. With a flick of her wrist, she brought the crop down again, this time landing a stinging blow against the base of the horn. I felt the metal press deeper into my abdomen, and the pain was so intense I saw stars. The gag did its job, allowing only muffled cries of agony to escape. My eyes watered uncontrollably, and I felt my body begging for relief.

Mistress tapped the crop against the tip of the metallic horn, the leather end sending shockwaves through the metal and into my sensitive flesh. She started slow, the rhythm a gentle tease that made me squirm in my bonds. Each tap sent a pulse of pain through my body. As she sped up, the impacts came quicker, and the pain became a blur, each strike merging into the next. The sound of leather on metal filled the air, punctuated by my muffled cries. My eyes squeezed shut, my breaths came in ragged gasps through my nose, and my body tensed with each blow.

The room felt as if it was spinning. The sting of the crop and the constant pressure from the horn created an overwhelming symphony of agony that I had to endure.

She stood back, the riding crop still in her hand, assessing my state. My body was a mass of reddened flesh from the crop's impact and the chafing from the chains and leather cuffs holding me in position.

My eyes squeezed shut in a mix of pain and ecstasy. My cock was throbbing inside that infernal horn. I looked at her through tear-filled eyes, my breathing shallow and erratic. The tension in the room was palpable as she spoke, her voice a seductive purr that pierced my cacophony of pain.

"Are you at your limit yet, Bent?"

I shook my head slowly to indicate "no". I needed to be exact, as a fast shake was my safety signal.

Mistress raised an eyebrow at my slow, deliberate shake of the head, understanding that I was not yet at my breaking point. She smirked, the corner of her mouth tilted upwards in amusement at my resilience.

With a flick of her wrist, she sent the crop slicing through the air once more, landing a series of rapid-fire strikes against the base of the horn. The pain was intense, a flash of agony that crashed through me with each hit.

My cock, trapped in the horn, pulsed with each impact, a relentless reminder of the power dynamics at play. The leather of the gag was slick with my saliva, and I felt drool trickle down my chin, a humiliating sign of my distress. Despite all, she showed no sign of letting up, her movements methodical and precise as she continued to push me further into submission.

My body had suffered so much, but I would not give in.

Mistress’s fingertip lifted the metallic horn, and the pressure on my swollen cock increased as she held it in place. The leather gag, still inflated, made it impossible for me to voice any protest. However, my eyes widened in fear, and my body tensed as she examined it.

The crop hung loosely in her other hand, the leather tail swinging with the movement of her arm. The room was silent except for the sound of my muffled gasps and the clinking of the chains that held me in place. She raised an eyebrow as if daring me to ask for mercy.

The moment Mistress released the horn's straps, the pressure on my swollen member was immediately alleviated. She then jerked it off my flesh with surprising speed and strength, causing me to cry out in a mix of relief and pain. The horn clattered to the floor, and the sudden absence of its grip was both welcome and disorienting. The chains holding me in place rattled with the force of my involuntary jerk, a testament to the intensity of the experience.

My penis, now free, throbbed painfully from the ordeal, the skin around it red and abused. I felt exposed and vulnerable as Mistress discarded the instrument of my torment, leaving me bound within the wooden frame.

Mistress slashed the crop upwards between my thighs, the leather striking my hanging balls with a wet smack. Hit after agonising hit on the same spot.

I jerked in my bonds, my body trying to recoil from the pain. The chains rattled and clanked as I struggled, my legs shaking and my entire body tensed up. The pain was intense, a white-hot agony that stole my breath away, and my eyes squeezed shut tight. The gag muffled my screams into a desperate, droning noise.

It was the end. I could not take any more.

Mistress’s eyes flicked to my head as I vigorously shook it from side to side. The crop paused mid-air, and she nodded, a hint of disappointment in her gaze. She knew that I had reached my limit, and she respected the boundary I had set.

Carefully, she lowered the crop and stepped back, allowing me to catch my breath. I felt the tension dissipate as she walked over to the nearby cabinet, placing the riding crop back in its place. She then turned to face me, holding a cordless wand vibrator.

Mistress returned to me with the vibrator in her hand, the buzzing device sending a thrill of anticipation through my overstimulated body. She approached me with a renewed sense of purpose, her eyes gleaming with excitement at the prospect of using the tool of pleasure.

She ran the vibrator gently along the length of the leather harness, the vibrations resonating through the straps and into my skin. Both my nipples were treated to a few seconds of pleasure before I felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with fear as she brought the vibrator closer to my exposed and sensitive genitals.

Mistress G pressed the buzzing head of the vibrator under the base of my shaft, the vibrations travelling through to my hypersensitive cockhead. She then slowly ran it along the length of my cock. The intensity increased when she reached my frenulum. The sudden direct contact with my most sensitive area sent a jolt of pleasure through me, and my body thrashed around in spasms in the restraints.

Despite the pain I still felt, my penis jumped at the sensation. She continued to apply the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate circles, watching my reaction intently as she gauged my tolerance and arousal.

As Mistress continued to run the vibrator along my shaft, the pain from my earlier ordeal receded, replaced by intense waves of pleasure. My body, desperate for relief, responded to the new sensation by thrusting my hips forward, seeking more contact with the buzzing head.

The leather cuffs around my thighs and ankles dug into my skin as I strained against the restraints, my legs shaking with the effort. The gag in my mouth muffled my moans of pleasure; the rubber stretched my cheeks and pressed against my teeth as I fought for control.

I was in subspace; all my pain had disappeared, and now only pleasure remained.

Each time the vibrator touched my frenulum, my body tensed, thrusting with the sensation. Mistress’s grip on the wand tightened as she watched me. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of satisfaction and curiosity at my reaction.

She continued to tease the sensitive area as the vibrations increased in intensity. The leather cuffs and chains held me firmly in place as my hips bucked involuntarily, the pleasure building within. My cock was now erect, its head a deep purple. The metal rings of the harness dug into my skin as I constantly thrust into the air.

My eyes were squeezed shut, focused solely on the intense sensation at the tip of my penis as Mistress continued her precise, focused torture. Each buzz from the vibrator sent shockwaves of pleasure through the body that wanted the release that only she could provide. The leather straps of the harness pressed into my skin with each involuntary movement, and the chains clinked with my desperate thrusts.

As my thrusts became frantic, Mistress’s eyes widened with excitement at the sight of my loss of control. She moved the vibrator away from my frenulum, watching my body react to the sudden absence of pleasure.

The chains that bound me to the frame shook with each futile attempt to regain contact with the vibrator, and the leather straps of the harness dug deeper into my skin with each jerk of my hips. I was panting and desperate, my cock straining, seeking relief.

Mistress watched with a mix of amusement and satisfaction as my body continued to thrust into the empty air, searching for the missing vibrations. The room was silent except for the sound of my harsh breaths and the occasional clank of the chains against the frame. The gag in my mouth was soaked with drool as I desperately sucked air through my nostrils.

Mistress stepped back to observe my desperate attempts to find the lost pleasure, the vibrator resting silently in her hand. My body's involuntary movements were a clear sign of my need for release. Suddenly, my hips bucked wildly as my orgasm hit, and I felt a sharp pleasure as semen shot up my shaft, no longer contained. The fluid arced through the air, landing in splatters on the floor and my legs. The chains rattled with my body spasms, and the leather cuffs bit into my skin as I thrust madly in glorious pleasure.

That orgasm was very intense. It seemed my head was about to explode in pleasure. It was all a blur of shaking and thrusting. I felt my body continue to spasm uncontrollably, the aftershocks of orgasm resonating through me even as the pleasure faded. The chains holding me to the frame jerked with each spasm. My legs and arms trembled, pulling against the restraints. Finally, my semen just dribbled down my legs, mixed with beads of sweat.

I groaned deeply. My body was spent and semi-comatose, held up by the chains that bound me.

As Mistress saw my body slump in the aftermath of the orgasm, she deflated the gag and pulled it out of my mouth, and it slipped from between my teeth with an audible pop.

I gasped for air; the gag's release had come as a blessed freedom.

She took a moment to admire her handiwork, the bruises and welts from the crop and my reddened flesh.

The chains still held me upright, but my muscles were quivering from exhaustion, and my mouth hung open, saliva trickling down my chin. The room was silent except for the sound of my panting.

Mistress smiled at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, Bent, I think you got your five hundred quids' worth."

She walked over to the units and placed the gag inside.

"Now, I am leaving."

She gave me a final, wicked smile.

“The Slave will be along shortly to release you from the chains. Have a nice day, and I'll see you again in a month.”

Mistress turned away. I heard the clack of her heels on the cold, hard floor as she walked out.

The Slave entered at the same time and started to release the chains binding me, one by one. When each one was released, my body slumped slightly, and my legs felt as if they might give out beneath me.

He carefully unbuckled the harness, mindful of my bruised and sensitive skin. Once freed, he helped me sit down on a chair, supporting my weight as my legs wobbled. Then he vanished, leaving me alone. The room was still. At my side, Slave had left a carton containing my street clothes. I sat there for a long time, reliving the session in my head before I felt strong enough to dress and leave The Studio.