Blue collar Master, white collar slave Part 2

Daddy. Just as he wanted it.

The next event he took me to was a party, a fetish event. His outfit was

so simple and sexy that I nearly begged him to fuck me when I saw him:

Black leather pants and a black leather jacket covering his bare upper

body. Black boots on his feet and nothing else. When you radiate power

as much as Daddy does, you only need a few things to emphasize it; black

leather being perfect. My outfit was equally simple, but did of course

it did not radiate power. It exposed my as the owned bitch I was. I

again wore a full-body rubber suit, only this time it was transparent

and thus showed the world my welts and markings from the punishments I

had received. To make sure that no one missed that point, Daddy had

whipped me the day before. On my feet were black boots, ankle high, with

six-inch heels and around my neck a broad, black leather collar had been

locked. To this my hands, which had not only been cuffed but also sealed

inside leather mittens, had been secured with padlock. This forced me to

walk around with my hands up under my chin, yet my elbows had to stick

out to the side so that my upper body would be exposed as per Daddy's

orders. This was hard enough, but to do at a function where every other

person was a master or mistress that you definitely did not want too

bump with your elbow, required my undivided attention. Daddy had

completed my outfit by gagging me with a truly fiendish penis-gag, which

extended so far down my throat that I was near panic, trying desperately

not to throw up, when it was first inserted. Now it was nearly another

source of discomfort as Daddy had made sure to also pack my ass with

very challenging buttplug. Not only was it large, but it also vibrated

quite powerfully so that it required no small amount of concentration to

keep it inside me.

When we arrived at the event, which was huge, occupying a whole

convention center, Daddy secured one end of a leash around my scrotum