Half Cooked Slave

I had blotted my copy book again, with some misplaced comment about that damn dog. How was I to know that Mistress Maggie was keen on that red coated Mountie and particularly his deaf dog Deifenbaker. I should have known a slave comes well below a husky Mountie, in fact below a husky in the scheme of things. Anyway, I was instructed to arrive at the session with ” . . . 50 handwritten lines as follows - 'I must not compare myself to Diefenbaker, a superior dog' . . .” It was going to be a ruff session. It has been a long time since I had to do handwritten lines!

Maggie was to use today to help introduce me to more tactile experiences, and to help her slave broaden my limited 'likes' and identify the different materials that Maggie likes to employ in her slave training sessions; I like what I am told to like by Maggie. My being in the dog-house was not helped by the fact I had mis-identified her footwear as PVC boots when of course, they were leather. A basic mistake and one Mistress would work on to ensure instant recognition of many more of her fetish materials. The first new material was the red silicone butt plug that Maggie had provided for my personal use. Exactly the right size to slip tightly in with a lot of lube. Red silicone filling my bum hole was a good start to my new tactile experiences!

Next was identification of plastic, hemp and leather. Hemp rope to attach me to the bondage chair, leather collar and plastic to help clear sinuses and allow me to lick and appreciate the feel of plastic, from inside the bag of course. As the plastic grasped against my face and I gasped about the failing oxygen, Maggie smiled, as only Maggie can, looked straight into my soul and suggested that I might like to admit that I love the plastic sensations I was receiving. I was enjoying being totally under Maggie's control; I was enjoying the suffocating experience and I was starting to run out of air! "I love plastic, Mistress" I was just able to gasp to secure my release. "There will be no rubber for you until you are better educated”.

That damn dog again. After my plastic identification experience, Mistress wanted to find out if I was a good dog as well and tied my balls to my ankles before kicking me with her leather boots, walking me round on a leather lead and cracking my arse with a leather paddle held nonchalantly in her leather gloved hands. I then had to lick the boots until Mistress was satisfied that I could accurately identify her boots as leather and not plastic. I think it worked because I was starting to enjoy the taste, smell, touch sound and look of the real leather shiny black thigh boots. It looks good, it tastes good and by golly, it does you good.

At last, Maggie relented about the 'no rubber' and fitted me into a black rubber hood and topped it all by slowly parting her natural latex coloured skirt and sinking very gracefully across my mouth. More rubber! I must have passed the identification tests; leather, plastic, rope, cire coat and of course rubber, otherwise Maggie would not then have helped me into my red rubber catsuit. 

I was initially disappointed that the new red silicone butt plug had to be removed, but smiled as a vibrating plug took its place. Not that the smile was visible through the s10 gas mask and blindfold that Maggie fitted her slave into. 

Maggie knew of course that I was smiling as she eased me into the clear plastic body bag ready for her slave to be sealed into my airtight resting place. Mistress knows exactly how to bring a smile to her slaves.

The tens unit had been quietly attached to my balls as Maggie was helping me into the suit. I did notice of course but it was of less importance than Mistress gently easing her slave into tight rubber. A squeeze, a tug, a shuffle and a stroke totally overwhelmed the sensation of the attachment of a couple of electrodes and their wires. And finally, a breathing tube and filter made me airtight and snug ready for incarceration in the thick plastic body bag.

A little passive fun for Mistress as I was laid gently on the carpet and the body bag sealed leaving enough space for the gas mask tube and wires.

I was starting to warm inside the bag and suit but was comfortable apart from the odd times when Maggie stuck something over the air filter or started cooking me with the tens machine. At least one of us was pleased that the machine ended up on maximum.

After suitable cooking time, the next thing I was permitted to see was Mistress in a brown mask of some sort. By this time I was a little disorientated and thought the situation a little weird. I wasn't far enough gone not to enjoy the nipple tweaking face sitting and other goodies that Mistress allowed her slave to enjoy.

You can just glimpse the cushion that Mistress provided for her slaves comfort. I am truly a very fortunate slave to be owned by such a caring and considerate Mistress.


That dog is not so bad after all judging be the ending that he led me to. Perhaps you might say I'm the contents of a doggy bag . . . then again, perhaps not.