TwoPony Closet

I had realized; Ms. Teases, my Mistress had not plugged me up as she left me. Why, had she failed to or forgotten? I doubt she would forget about it, if it had been her purpose or intent. Just as I fail to see how she could possibly fail.

She is a Mistress; and as such, she is a professional. Professionals don’t forget. Professionals do not fail, or they are summarily sacked. At least; that is my image of the situation.

Of course I am exhausted, after the visit of the Mistress. She had put me through my paces, I can’t deny it. Had I not been gagged, I would have been panting, open mouthed and positively been looking like a hound on a very hot day.

My heart is still bounding like a jackhammer in my chest, I can hear it loud and clear. There is no denying this. There is no point in denying it, just as there is none I could deny it to. Maybe that is just as well.

My Mistress certainly had earned her name; Ms. Teases, she is excelling at the teasing. She had been teasing me no end, with the energy and enthusiasm I dare not approach.

Ms. Teases had drilled the experience into me, like the afterimage of a nuclear blast. I can’t escape it, but why would I possibly want to? Unless this would make all sex fade to dust?

While I barely feel my rump or my rear in general, I still feel the warm tingling pleasure inside. I can’t escape it, even if I guess it is slowly fading away, minute by minute.

With my hooves glued to the floor, I can’t fall to the floor. Maybe that is for the better, I really do need to rest and to sleep soon. Just that the excitement is refusing to let me relax in the manner that precedes and permits sleeping on my part.

With the door closed behind me, I slowly come back down onto the earth. If the door had been locked or open is something I can do nothing about at this point. I simply can not do anything about it. At the moment, I am also too revved up to notice.

Of course, there is a click from the door as it is opening and closing behind a mare. She is ogling me and leering in obvious glee. Maybe I should have been taking pride in it, but I am busy on my end.

All of a sudden, I feel a hoof probing me just under the tail. For a moment, I feel the rubber coated hoof probing me. Curiously enough, the otherwise coarse and grabby surface of the rubber is slippery with thick lubrication gel.

I can not help myself, but since I am trapped in a state where I can’t as much as lift a hoof or even give her the sign of excitement through wetness or audible moans. She is obviously quite content with me in my current state since she is continuing to probe me eagerly and with quite the excitement to the effect.

Just as her hoof is about to slip in, she just pull back as the tease she obviously is. Isn’t she? Of course, the tease has its very own effect upon me and is pushing me and my expectations sideways.

Once she had probed my rear, she is withdrawing a new plug or tube crafted out of thick, stiff and clear rubber and is swiftly inserting it into my rear orifice. I feel the smooth rubber entering me, before I realize that it is also maintaining my orifice wide open and vulnerable while leaving the edge of my original tube readily accessible to her or whom ever is standing behind me.

The mare behind me is slipping a muzzle tube in, covering her muzzle with the glistering, crystal clear rubber right behind me. For a moment, she is standing quiet, motionless behind me as she is adjusting to the changes.

Once the tube is on and in, her muzzle is a glistering rubber and conveniently elastic in a jolly joyous manner. She slowly stick her tongue out of her mouth and tentatively stretching out out inch by inch.

While I can clearly feel the clear, solid rubber tube in, I can clearly feel it pressing against my sensitive flesh; but I neither see her behind me, nor feel the touch over the solid rubber inside.

For a moment, she merely stand behind me, quietly; as she is looking at me and slowly extends her slippery, wet tongue between slightly parted lips. Her tongue then starts to loll for a moment as she is practicing before the impending strike. She is leaning forwards and starts licking the tube and then me. I feel her tongue pressing gently, but firmly; as she is licking me, from behind.

Her caressing touch is leaving a warm, tingling sensation as she moves her tongue. As wet as I may feel, I will be neither drier, nor wetter with time as she is licking me and lapping away. I can not help myself, but neither could I let on how or what I feel as she keeps up and continues teasing me. All I can do is sigh inwardly, as I look before me Even when my eyes are relaxed and closed, I feel how my eyes go wide with every change as she keeps lapping at me.

“Does she make an effort, not to touch my bare skin, as she is lapping at my rear?” I ponder, quietly.

While my eyes are closed, I notice an instant of light as my eyes go wide as her tongue plunges into me and deep inside. Only then, she pulls her tongue out of me just as suddenly.

“Why did she do that? To force the reaction out of me?” I continue.

Of course she is repeating the action, but only with a minute or two in between. If she did it just to throw me off? Then again, it is causing me to react, not just on the conscious level, but also on the unconscious levels she is practiced in reaching.

It is natural to feel myself constrict around her, her tongue each and every time is plunging into me; just as it is natural for me to permit her tongue to enter me and pull back freely. I have no control, but I can certainly enjoy the feelings and sensations caused by her action.

I am wet, and so is she. I feel the wet juices inside and on her tone with each plunge into me. Her tongue is stretching as she is entering me and I can do nothing about it either way.

While my mouth may be filled up, and my bead held firmly in place; my nostrils are still open to the scents in the room, ready to assault or caress me as they please. Had my nostrils been covered, I could not breathe freely without additional aid, which should have taken away from my experience. How could I have enjoyed it, myself or her and her efforts?

There is a scent of excitement on the air, crowding the room in which I am in. I can’t escape it, but I do not want to. The scent of both her excitement and mine is merely driving me on and building up the experience of what I experience right now. I am here, and now in the one instance of excited state of mind.

Little by little, the excitement is building, but I had already been wet when she entered the room. The tube had been just right, for what is before me; or rather, what is behind me. As much effort as she is putting into it, I will not be sore or cramp.

Of course, the mare is pulling back, stopping, ceasing her effort after a while. I should have known, and I am sure I had before she started. I can but treasure the moment, the instant of bliss for as long as it will last.

Once her tongue finally does pull out of me, I am breathing heavily. I am exhausted and feel spent. The bliss complete as it is holding me steadfast, inescapable. She takes a step back and opens the door behind herself with a distinct click. I am alone as she steps out of the room. I know she is closing the door behind herself and hear a click once more. Even if I guess I am not quite aware of it at the time. Did I actually hear it, and will I remember it? I doubt I actually heard what I knew I had heard.

She is gone and I am once more alone in the closet. As cramped as the space may seem, I never really noticed it, and it isn’t as if it was about to dawn upon me any time soon. The mare had left me, for but a short while. Another is about to enter. I am not aware of who, or what she had in store for me. Yet, she is coming, soon enough.

While I am alone, I am alone. I need the time as a short respite. I am not resting as much as one may have been expecting. The moment is mainly lost in bliss, from the moment when she had still been with me. My breathing is slowly going down slightly, and my heart is still pounding hard.

All she had actually given me in parting, is an instant to reset. The instant to be ready for the onslaught anew. A new mare to pummel me with bliss. Each step, just preparing me for the next.