Why is Friday 13th considered unlucky?
Many believe the superstition started in the Middle Ages and is rooted in the crucifixion, as Jesus Christ was betrayed on a Friday and there were 13 individuals present at the Last Supper. As a result, Friday and the number 13 were perceived as unlucky, but they weren’t paired until the 19th century. However, for this rubber slave the exact opposite are my feelings about Friday 13th.
Ever since I was fortunate enough to start visiting
Mistress Maggie I have gravitated to sessions on a Friday. When I was working I could skive off for the afternoon, get a shower on the way to the Chambers and have a glorious afternoon knowing that my Mistress would then be able to relax without further commitments over the weekend. Statistically, there is always the chance my training will fall on a Friday 13th and hence why I love the date.
There was one minor incident in today's session that could be attributable to the 'unlucky 13th' myth, that severely embarrassed me and annoyed Mistress for the couple of moments it took to clean up my mess, but because of Maggie's professionalism, once cleared the incident was put behind us.
Mistress looked absolutely stunning in a skintight ensemble that was almost all black latex, even sporting an open face latex hood that enhanced the beauty of the wearer. I did notice that she was wearing transparent latex gloves and had her hair up in a bun. I took it as her own hair, but that did prove to be an incorrect assumption, at the bottom she sported a pair of glossy black knee boots. All I knew at this stage was that it was to be another lucky 13th.
I was sent off to the bathroom to return in gloves and socks, black latex ones of course, and to bring my owner a glass of water. After the opening boot worship Mistress stood directly in front of my eyes, opened her crotch zip and let out a cascade of her golden nectar into a bowl. When she handed the bowl to me to hold I assumed I was to be treated to an early tipple and went to drink, only to be stopped and told to place it carefully on one side. I then had to help laying out the PVC sheet and once it was where Maggie wanted it I was instructed to kneel on it, making sure my arse was well in the air and over the centre of the sheet. I couldn’t see, but heard the cutting of strips of gaffer tape, each one placed in such a way to keep my anus open and stretched.
The last time I had this type of arse play,
almost four years ago, I ended up with yellow tape and a soapy water enema. On this occasion Mistress decided on black tape and the contents of the bowl that I had recently seen deposited were syphoned into me through an inflatable butt plug. There is something a little unreal and out of this world to be partially filled with Mistress's fluids; perhaps even spiritual to have your Mistress's fluids actually inside your bum. Anyway, after a couple more pumps with the inflating balloon and a conical bung inserted to keep my luxury load inside, I was told to clear any spillage. It’s a shame to waste good wine so was happy to lap it all up, then was sent to the bathroom to clean the used bowl. As I walked I could feel Mistress's pee moving deep inside me.
At this point it was time for total rubberisation. Maggie helped me into my Invincible rubber work suit, and picking up a bundle of hemp proceeded to create an elaborate rope harness round my stomach and through my crutch, to be tightened to the rear at waist height. Maggie then stood back and began deliberating on what she’d just done, realising that she might have got a bit carried away with her rope work she began modifying it so as to create a simpler but quite restrictive lower body harness, more in keeping with what she’d envisaged.
The spare rope was used as a temporary lead to guide me through to The Clinic where I saw that the couch was covered in a rubber sheet. That particular covering turned out to be a godsend in the moments to come. In the meantime, I sat carefully on the couch and helped in whichever way I could with the donning of the inflatable straitjacket. I have worn this before and despite being inescapable it is very comfortable and snug when pumped up. For the moment it wasn’t inflated and I was to remain content with that. Later on the jacket was duly pumped up accompanied by the loud noise of the small electric pump whirring away, as the inflation valve is right next to my left ear.
I was a little intrigued by the small diameter rope that Mistress dextrously zigzagged round my groin area and pulled quite tight. I would find out what that was used for in a moment.
With the addition of the GP5 gas mask and Aromas Pump Hose, I was ready to have my balls inflated and two needles were administered into my scrotum. Mistress had obviously analysed the performance of smaller needles used in previous infusions and chose to use larger bore ones so the saline drips would work faster. That certainly worked, my ball sac began to enlarge as the two bags on the IV stand continued to steadily deliver the whole of their saline load. With things flowing nicely Maggie inflated the straitjacket, which filled time nicely while the infusion was underway.
And now for that Friday 13th moment, or in Maggie's terminology, ‘a Houston event’. I moved and could tell that something had come loose. I was about to lose all that lovely nectar and unfortunately some less than lovely bowel contents. I had no option but to alert Mistress, and I knew she was bound to be disappointed with the situation. The saline drips were disconnected, the cleanup began and thank goodness for the rubber sheet which now had the enema plug's escaped plastic bung lurking in the middle of it! Still in the inflated straitjacket and tentatively shuffling with a towel between my legs I was escorted to the bathroom and cleaned up as was the rubber sheet. After a serious spray of air freshener everything was back on course. Mistress handled this unexpected situation brilliantly, but I was left SO embarrassed.
Mistress put on a fresh pair of gloves, I was ordered back on to the freshly cleaned couch and my saline infusion was reconnected. One of the needles was running slowly after all this disturbance and needed to be replaced, that only took a minute or two and once more, both of the 500ml bags were depositing their contents into my swelling ball sac.
Ah! so that was what the smaller diameter rope was for; to provide some containment around my groin area. On previous inflations Mistress has used various methods to restrict the swelling to just the ball sac, but this time had chosen to just let the fluid find its own equilibrium, and in any case, it would be funny to see my little cock get subsumed by my balls, which is exactly what happened to Mistress’s great amusement. Oh yes, a real hoot when you try to pee!
Speaking of pee, Mistress had recharged her nectar reservoir and produced another bowl of warm tasty pee. My mouth would be the second opening to receive this honour today, but firstly I asked if the inflatable butt plug that was becoming uncomfortable could be removed. Once more I was to be escorted to the bathroom, at least the inflation was complete by now and we had chance to deflate the straitjacket to make the trip easier. Thankfully this time there were no contents left to drain and the plug came out easily and cleanly and the air freshener was not required!
Back on the couch Mistress re-inflated the jacket to its full capacity before I was allowed the taste of her fresh nectar. Off came the GP5 to be replaced with a feeding tube. I have used the tube a few times before and Maggie has modified it to make it really easy to manage the flow. The two empty saline bags were replaced on the IV stand with the funnel and my imminent treat was gently poured down that funnel, eventually entering my very welcoming throat.
And that was that, apart from that one Houston moment this Friday the 13th was another monumental success. As Mistress helped me disrobe and removed the rope from around my groin I was able to marvel at the transformation and weight of my cock and balls for the first time. To give you some comparison of the extra weight I was now carrying, 1 Litre of saline weighs approximately 1.1kg and a standard bag of sugar weighs 1kg. I am glad I didn’t have to explain to a doctor why my weight had increased by 1kg in an afternoon!
These days I always carry a pair of incontinence pants in my perv bag, and although there was some leakage it was very slight on account of me only having the three pin holes. It took nearly 24 hours before I could safely bin the pants.
Mistress Maggie, a sincere thank you for giving me a really heavy ball experience and I remain a little embarrassed of the smells I gave in return and it was one of the best Christmas presents I could ever want. Have a peaceful Christmas, a Happy New Year and I will see you in January 2025.
Caution: This 1:56s enema clip has audio.