Oh what a night

All weekend I had thought about what my Keyholder would have in store for me. After I got back into town, I soon found out.
It started off well enough. After stripping and kneeling before my Keyholder, she stroked my cock, which I haven't been allowed to touch. It was a delight--the sensation was overwhelmingly pleasurable.  It was not to last.
All manner of gear was set out. I was allowed to take my pick of nipple clamps--unfortunately, I only found one set -- the "eagle talon" ones. These are extremely painful; their only saving grace is that they do not hurt as much when taken off. These were set aside while I got into position.
My Keyholder had set up a milking machine of sorts: a penis pump attached to a fucking machine. In front of this was a mat with raised hard plastic ridges. My hands went in leather mitts, and were fastened behind my back. Blindfold and ball gag completed my outfit. On the mat I went, kneeling. Now, for anyone that hasn't kneeled on a hard surface, or a ridged surface, or on chickpeas or chains or what-have-you, let me tell you: it's tough. It's punishment/torture enough on its own after five minutes. I was scooted into position and my poor penis that hadn't gotten any attention went into the milking machine. Soon, it was to receive more attention than I ever wanted. The machine started up, slowly. Not too bad. Not pleasurable, not like a hand. It was - mechanical, relentless.
The nipple clamps went on. I was making some strange noises by then. They hurt--a lot. To these torments, my Keyholder added a nose clamp to keep me still.
I could barely stand it. There was no pleasure at all in the situation. The milking machine, an afterthought. My entire being was focused on my knees, the cruel wedges digging into them. I cried out. I begged. I tried to overcome the pain. I tried to master it, but it got to be too much. I moved, managing to lean back and take my knees off the wedges. My Keyholder scolded me and had me lean back on it, and whipped me for moving without permission. One of the strokes curled around and bit me on the hip -- always painful.
At this point, a masochist would be in heaven. I, however, am not a masochist. I like to see how far I can endure things, but I take no pleasure from them. My Keyholder relented, and took the mat away. I leaned down on the carpet, and controlled myself, and thanked her profusely. I still had the nipple clamps and nose hook to deal with, not to mention the relentless milking machine, but these were bearable, for now.
I don't know how long it went on for. My Keyholder had set up all manner of videos of moaning women in the background to further tease me.  My body started betraying me, and my Keyholder started, one by one, taking the torments off. Nipple clamps, then the nose hook, then a change of positions. All the while, the milking machine mercilessly mechanically milked my manhood. I will get spanked for that last line, I'm sure.
After a while, I was placed in a chair ("bring out the comfy chair!"), and the milking machine kept up its relentless drive. It was a interesting experience--not pleasurable, but it got me close to the edge a couple of times by its sheer relentlessness. Needless to say, I was not allowed to come at any point in the night...
The ordeal was punctuated at times by my being allowed to pleasure my Keyholder. As she brought her sex to my face, I was ecstatic, and privileged, to be able to pleasure her. This is what I long for, most of all, to pleasure my Keeper like this.
It was a long night, but I was thankful to my Keyholder for her inventiveness and attentions, and I look forward to further service to her.