Leather Skin Biker

There is a guy I know who is into roleplay who loves cigars, rubber, and piss. I had been exchanging messages with him for some time, and finally went to play with him in his play space. While it was impossible to know this based on the scene I had with him, he stands over six feet tall, with dirty blond hair, nice build, in his 40s. It’s kind of ironic, but I have never spoken to the man face to face. It will be clear why that is after I describe the scenes I’ve had with this guy, who I will refer to as “smokedog.”

The way this scene worked is that he was in the role of a rubberized, submissive human ash tray and urinal. I was the leathered dom cigar and watersports top. he would leave his door unlocked, and I would find him in full rubber, in his play room, waiting. I got the impression that he stays in gear for sometimes 6-8 hours or more at a time. When I chatted with him online, I usually had the impression that he was geared up for quite some time prior to our chat. This guy really embraces his fetishes, and spends hours in the headspace before he does a scene. From way back I have been a fan of the unlocked door scene in which I walk into someone’s house where I may or may not have been before, and engage in a hot scene with a guy.

For this scene with smokedog, I had to drive to the far north side of the city, where he lived. I arrived and found his door unlocked. I was in my leather pants, harness, tight cop gloves, sunglasses, and my Carolina engineer boots. I found smokedog in his playroom encased in eight layers of industrial grade rubber, with only his eyes visible, and a hole in the rubber for his mouth. Having had little rubber experience, this was a good learning situation for me. The cigar part, already, I had some experience with, and of course, watersports had long been an interest of mine. So I just had to learn to navigate the rubber, and see if my interests and his overlapped sufficiently to make this work.

Since he was encased in all that rubber, and since his face and mouth were included in that encasement, communication was not especially easy. It also seemed as though he were under the influence of something. I’m not sure whether it was alcohol or whether it was tobacco-related, but he seemed intoxicated with something. I understood that he had been in the rubber for quite some time and further understood that he was laying in his own piss and sweat under all those layers. I did like that aspect quite a lot. It was pleasantly piggy and nasty, and somehow very masculine. I think of a man’s sweat and urine as distinctly masculine. When I walked in I found him on his back, on what I will call a “bed” for lack of a better word, and he already had something of a “mouth ashtray” in place. smokedog communicated to me the location of the cigars, lighters, and other gear as the scene unfolded.

One of the first things I did was find a big fat stogie and light it. Those fat gars look good in my big tight cop-gloved hands. The playroom was a fairly remote space, and not particularly well ventilated, so it had a slightly musty smell. With the gar lit, it became a smoky, musty smell. I watched the clouds of blue smoke waft up toward the dim ceiling lighting. Me being 6 foot 5, the ceiling was reasonably low, but I could stand fully erect and not hit my head, so I was fine. I began with something very basic by blowing smoke into the mouth hole in the rubber. I could see smokedog’s eyes through what looked like nautical eye holes. It reminded me of those old fashioned diving hoods that had the little glass windows for the eyes. The smokedog was very receptive to the gar smoke, and didn’t choke on it. In fact, it seemed to energize him.

I soon retrieved the mouth ashtray attachment, and decided to put that back on him. Basically, it was an ashtray that covered the mouth hole, with a hole in the bottom of the ashtray. Ash could fall into smokedog’s mouth as I put my ash in the tray. This was intriguing to me, as I’d never seen such an apparatus prior to that day. When I smoke a gar, I let the ash get pretty large, so it took a while for me to have something ready for him, but finally I did. I put the ash in the mouth ashtray, and used smokedog as a human ashtray. I’m sure some of the hot ash went into his mouth, and I remembered thinking that I would not want to be on the receiving end of that. But smokedog seemed to be in his glory there taking my hot ash.

I did some exploration of the rubber encasement, and was particularly interested to know whether I could access smokedog’s ass. his cock and balls were exposed, and quite vulnerable. I could torture them, and did so. I love CBT, and gave smokedog’s cock and balls a good thrashing. I twisted and played with his cock, and I squeezed his balls, and slapped them, with my big gloved hand. I also flicked some hot cigar ash on his balls. That definitely got a reaction out of smokedog. This was all good fun, even though the rubber was alien to me. I navigated the new environment fairly easily. I looked around and found the human urinal attachment I had hoped for sitting in the corner. I am a big fan of the funnel urinal that fits in a piss pig’s mouth. I’m sure most of you have seen them. On one end is a large funnel, suitable for one or more men to piss into, which is connected to a sturdy plastic tube, which connects to a mouth piece that fits in the human urinal’s mouth.

From my way of looking at things, this is a perfect piece of equipment, designed to facilitate one of the most perfect relationships—the one between a nasty piss pig top and a submissive piss pig human urinal sub. I love, love, love having a pig drink my piss. I also love giving piss enemas without warning to a sub, but there was no way I could even get to smokedog’s asshole. In any case, I retrieved the urinal funnel and put it in place, so that the mouth piece fit into the hole in the rubber leading right to smokedog’s piss pig mouth. I had been smoking one of smokedog’s fat stogies, and had already retrieved two beers from upstairs in his refrigerator. There was something very liberating about having the run of gardog’s home, drinking his beer, smoking his gars, and now, pissing into his mouth, knowing my piss would end up in his belly or around his head if he didn’t swallow it all.

The way that things were set up there, I could have pissed on his rubber encasement as well, but I was more interested in making sure that my piss wound up inside the rubber, and especially inside smokedog’s belly. After two beers, I had a nice full load of beer piss to give him. I had to stand over him on the platform where he lay, and piss into the funnel. I could hear smokedog chugging my piss, and that really turned me on. He seemed to take it well, and quite enjoyed it, as far as I could tell. And if he didn’t I wouldn’t have cared anyway. The most important thing was my enjoyment. I’m reasonably certain he was enjoying it too, but my pleasure was the highest priority in that scene. I still had the fat cigar between my teeth as I let go that hot stream of man piss into his mouth, and I’m sure, into his belly. With that load of piss down the funnel and into smokedog, I made my way upstair for another beer.

When I returned, smokedog seemed to be drifting to sleep or unconsciousness, or maybe it was ecstasy. I thought about how he would recycle the beer again, and then be laying in it after he pissed it out. I didn’t know for sure how long he’d remain encased in all those layers of rubber with his piss and sweat, but that was not my concern. I was still smoking his cigar and sipping his cold beer, and I was getting ready to leave out. Part of the agreement was that I could stay for as long as liked, and could leave at any time, with no explanation and no apology. I must have been there over an hour, and quite honestly, I was frustrated by lack of access to his hole. I tried to get inside those eight layers of rubber, but it was futile. Me being me, I was frustrated by the fact that I couldn’t touch his hole. If I could, perhaps I would have stayed longer.

Before I left, though, I wanted to finish up what I had started. I had been jacking intermittently throughout this scene, and I was ready to unload. That huge cigar was getting pretty short by then, and I straddled smokedog, so that my cock was positioned near the mouth hole in the rubber. It was possible to stick my cock into the hole and have smokedog give me head. I’m a fan of that, so I let him suck on it a bit. It felt good to get my cock into his warm wet mouth—the same mouth into which I had put my piss and ash. I fucked smokedog’s mouth deep and hard, and finally let my hot load go. I shot into smokedog’s mouth, throat, and I could hear him swallow. With my load on its way to his belly, I was ready to go. I put out the gar carefully, not wanting smokedog to wind up trapped under eight layers of industrial grade rubber, unable to flee a fire. I put my shirt and leather pants, socks, and boots back on, and made my way up the stairs to ground level, and out the door. The daylight hurt my eyes. I put on my sunglasses and made my way around the block to my car. I felt good, and headed home south on Lake Shore Drive. As I passed the Belmont exit my slave called. he was on his way home from work, and I told him that I had just used smokedog. I’d tell him more about smokedog when we both arrived home.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 9th, 2008 at 6:52 am and is filed under Cum, Dominance, Internal, Objectification, Pain, Rubber, Smokeplay, Submission, Sucking, Swallowing, Watersports.