Third Annual Nettling Event

Ushered over the threshold by Mistress Maggie in a simple yet stunning latex skirt and top, I could just see the shape of her perfect breasts straining against the tight olive green of her top; quite secure and totally out of bounds but incredibly sexy and frustrating. Maggie let out a knowing laugh as I followed her up the stairs to the playroom. Knowing that her slave would be looking at her finely shaped and perfectly formed rear as the movement of her legs and hips set the rear zip of the skirt undulating in the most provocative snake-like manner; knowing that her sheer black tights and high-heeled court shoes would soon be the objects of worship by her slave and knowing that her slave knew that all that I viewed was off limits, unless Mistress decreed otherwise.

Being a slave of little brain but general good powers of observation, I guessed that today would be my annual introduction to the nettle crop because before I had composed myself after following Maggie's rear, there was a neat line of three plant pots containing good, healthy nettle plants lined up neatly on top of the low punishment bench.

With wrists cuffed to the headboard of the rubber bed, Mistress indulged in a little preliminary breath play to get the juices flowing with a convenient plastic bag. I know Maggie gets enjoyment from my gasps and I try on each occasion to go a little further before I beg for air. The opening was held in a long tight grip under my chin as Mistress outlined the session, demanding confirmation that I understood her instruction. I confirmed with a grunted gasp. "Yes! Air please"

As I said the nettles looked healthy enough to me but Mistress said she was disappointed with the quantity of good nettles this year, not enough bees visiting her nettle patch, but with my pollination expertise a bigger and better crop could be expected in 2015.

On went the small spreader bar securely strapped between the thighs and my wrists attached to the bar. I was now unable to stand upright and could only manage to waddle. Mistress was quite clear with the instruction; "Land the bee on each nettle plant to complete the pollination"; to be repeated until Mistress was satisfied her plants were successfully fertilised. Before I went off half-cocked, Maggie reminded me she had to attach the insect, same spiky painful clamp as last year, then the short length of bungee cord conveniently anchored to the playroom bed.  The bungee was sufficiently slack so as not to stretch the tackle too much more. “I think you know what to do don’t you slave? Now off you go.”

I am pleased to say I managed the task and by the end I was showing Mistress that I could do it both ways. Straddle the nettle bench with my back to Mistress and then with a little more huffing and puffing and bungee stretching, straddle the bench facing Mistress. It solicited some great laughter and presented Maggie with an alternate angle for viewing her hapless slave. I certainly wasn't going to complain about having to spring from plant to plant, having cock, balls, lower abdomen and worst of all the inside of my knees stung to billy-o by what turned out to be a most virulent strain of nettles. I was determined to show Maggie that I had progressed since last years event.

After the nettling, Mistress led me into the clinic where the couch was laid flat. I had not seen this configuration before so, once again something new and exciting was on the cards. I was not wrong. When instructed to carefully get on the couch I slid on from the side and laid there waiting for my next instruction. With a little exasperation in her voice Maggie said I was to kneel on the couch rather than lie on it - stupid slave. Three or four cracks with the leather slapper reminded me of that fact and of course Rule 13. Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times!

Out came my trusty plug and with the help of a mask and aromas placed over my nose in went 'something' with an inflatable plug attached. Mistress has used the black latex pump up before so nothing new there then. Well yes there was something new. It was in reality a Bardex style inflatable double bulb catheter that Maggie was inserting into my very willing and accommodating arsehole. The unit remained flaccid but Maggie was careful to bring both bulbs through my legs as I finally was instructed to gently turn and lie on my back. I laid there unsecured whilst she fitted a cock cage to help keep me under control and prevent recurrence of previous premature accidents. At which point on went the gas mask over the top of my latex mask that I was still wearing. Maggie, as usual, was concerned about her slaves safety and insisted that I confirmed that I was able to breathe with both mask and hood. In fact, if anything, it was easier because the hood tightened as the gas mask went on and made for a good airflow. I grunted "Fine. No problems”. Mistress screwed on a corrugated hose and had me relax with more aroma, this time dispensed through the gas station.

Maggie then proceeded to fold me inside the heavyweight plastic sheet so carefully laid on the couch prior to the session. Once again, an illustration of the planning and attention to detail Maggie deploys when arranging sessions for her slaves. The sheet was gradually folded round me and as a bit more was covered, on went body straps at strategic parts; ankles thighs legs, torso etc. but always leaving access to cock and balls. Very thoughtful of Maggie as next in my dressing instructions were a pair of flexible electrodes around balls and base of cock. The electrics were set to a slow regular rhythm. Enough to harden but not enough to cause embarrassment.

Throughout the rest of my time strapped to the couch the gentle pulsing motion of the electrics was maintained. Maggie occasionally varied the power but the rhythm never varied. It was like experiencing a slow wank that was never going to get me where I needed to go. Maggie was back twiddling the gas station valves and my gas mask pipe transferred to the bubble system, Maggie joined me in the gas station thrills by donning and connecting her own smaller gas mask to the machine. I sucked and bubbled through the bubble bottle. Maggie sucked and bubbled through the bottle and all in all we had a delightfully bubbly time. No aromas at this stage as Maggie keeps a clear head and authority at all times. I did suspect that the airflow was biased in Maggie's favour as it seemed I needed more puff per bubble.

Maggie removed our masks and replaced mine with the rather nice clear plastic re-breather hood. At last I could see a little more of the Clinic and more importantly, of Maggie still in black skirt and tight olive semi see-through top. A little more aromas via the small breather holes, a few adjustments to the power, the straps were tightened and we were off on another adventure. And then time for something new as I was introduced to the Bardex when both bulbs were inflated and Maggie said I was to take and hold 750 mls. "Hayley Mills, Boundary Mill, Black Dyke Mills . . ." I quipped and fortunately Maggie found that amusing and not insolent. I have comfortably taken larger enemas but Maggie wanted her slave to retain the bellyful of liquid she was busy mixing and would be plugging the outlet pipe to stop any leakage. Strapped inside the green plastic cocoon I was in no position to hop off the couch and run to the bathroom anyway. She did offer 2 litres when I queried the volume but I thought it sensible to exercise slave discretion at this point. Mistress said best not to be too ambitious and that 750 mls was duly sufficient and safe to get me started with my new plugged and inflated Bardex experience.

It was really strange and on reflection perhaps I could have accepted the larger volume. At first the liquid seemed to be making very slow progress down the enema pipe, neither of us could be really sure that the soapy solution was actually entering my colon until the bag gurgled and spluttered and was finally empty. That was it. 750 mls in and sealed. Clean soapy solution was all captured, together with her slave inside one very nice plasticky bundle. Every now and then Maggie would stroke my captive cock, or add an extra pump to the Bardex inflatables, tighten the restraining straps a little more, mischievously stroke my abdomen to flirt with the enema. All part of the service of course.

On with a different black gas mask and on to the next delights, an extended period of controlled breathing, Maggie screwed a rubber rebreather bag on to the top of her gas station, a quick check that I was OK with the reduced air supply then everything went black, my heavy breaths masked out any other sound in the clinic and once again Mistress had her slave firmly in her clutches awaiting her next attentions.

After the period of dark solitude wearing the bug eyes, Maggie finally released the cock cage. I was given strict instructions to hold any natural reactions to the added freedom as Mistress pulled on a pair of wrist gloves, then oiled and massaged me. “Yes” I said. I was trying not to embarrass myself, again, and we agreed I had controlled myself far better than earlier sessions. Mistress told me to hold for 30 seconds until relieved and started to count backwards as she continued to titillate. 30, 29, 28, 27, 26 . . . Bollocks failed again! However I am getting nearer being totally controlled by Maggie.

I have to confess, I was embarrassed when Mistress removed the Bardex with me sat on the loo and I was told to go expel the contents. 750 mls came out like an express train and the cacophony of sound must have been heard next door and I am sure sounded more like 75 litres. On the positive side I did receive a nice compliment from Maggie about how smooth I had managed to get my bum cheeks for an easy insertion of the plug. I felt really pleased with that one small compliment. I had tried hard to be smooth for Maggie and the extra effort had not gone unnoticed.

I know. I am a really lucky slave.