It's a Hard Life

It is unquestionably a hard yet varied life being one of the many cock and balls that are owned by Mistress Maggie. Take today for instance. I knew I was to be encased in some form of chastity device and made every effort to arrive in a quiet, tumescent state to help Mistress with fitting said device. Fine and dandy until Mistress opened her front door wearing a short, see through latex skirt, the briefest of latex g-strings, her breasts enclosed in transparent latex . . . you get the picture. How can a cock and balls remain flaccid confronted with such stimuli?

Up to the playroom and more distractions. Into the latex catsuit and our black rubber plug inserted where the sun don't shine. Still, our arse did receive a nice compliment from Mistress as to how smooth and clean it was. Big smile there then, and a little more distraction for me as Maggie zipped me tightly inside the suit then gave us a rub down all over to clean away any stray talc. At least I might get a little time to compose myself and regain a more relaxed state; well not really. Cock and balls tightly encased inside the thick rubber catsuit are not conducive to inactivity. Sure enough, as Mistress walked us through to the Clinic, I was fighting a losing battle to stay soft for Maggie.

As you would expect, Mistress has my number and after strapping us to the couch, disappeared with a cheery "Just need to fetch something from the freezer". We know what that means and that certainly will help with returning me to a nice relaxed, albeit somewhat chilled state. It worked, although I was a little awkward with the first ring that Maggie tried but a second one fitted well round my base and the cage, rather unfortunately did as its name implies and caged me good and proper. So long as I can keep a nice quiet frame of cock and ball mind, the cage fits well with plenty of room.

That takes no account of the cruel side of Mistress Maggie. Not content that I was safely locked out of harms way she set about me with that pesky pink vibrator. Enough is enough. How could any cock and balls resist that onslaught. Well, like Jack and his beanstalk, I grew and grew until I could grow no further. Tightly encased in a solid steel cage; I said at the start it’s a hard life.

Now that Mistress had me securely and very tightly caged, the butt plug was removed from slave and replaced with a double bardex enema tube and the bulb pumped up the suggested four pumps, a couple more "for good luck" and one more "just in case". Slaves arse hole was well stretched and in far too close proximity to where I was struggling in the cage. Maggie knows that there is a direct link between a well filled bottom and stimulation keeping me stiff, and that is exactly what happened. I stayed hard, fully caged and uncomfortable. I was beginning to regret trying to stay soft for Mistress at the start. If I'd done my normal trick, I would have arrived fully to attention, impossible to cage and wouldn't be in this very tight situation. That's not the point though is it? I enjoy doing Maggie's bidding, whatever that entails.

Once Mistress had finished filling slave and teasing me it was back to the Playroom for some exercise. Not for me and balls, I hasten to add, although we were left outside the latex suit and no doubt Mistress would use me for some amusement during the exercises.

In the Playroom, Maggie had prepared the thick black latex bondage sack. Excellent I thought, once inside the zip will be closed, and once more I was contemplating having a little peace and quiet so that I could release the pressure against the cage. It was getting a little annoying, constantly grinding against the inside of the heavy steel scaffolding.

The rest of slave was inserted inside the thick bondage sack; arms and legs immobilised and wrapped in black shrink wrap. I was all right though, in my heavy metal cage. Well, not quite. Maggie has many and varied methods of making me uncomfortable. I should have remembered there was a strategically placed zip just above where I was resting and, blinking in the light, I was once more the subject of Maggie's teasing. Damn it; all that relaxing wasted in a couple of seconds of Mistresses devilish capabilities!

The exercise was Maggie's idea of fun. She lent over the horse and slave was instructed to lick and kiss her bottom. Most difficult as slave had to make like a sperm, wriggle away across the floor, hook feet under the bottom of  the bench and hoist mouth up to the appropriate licking position. It worked, but we weren't expecting rubber encased sit-ups as part of the training. Oh well I was alright, at least slave had the sense to remain on his back. The cage would have protected me but may have played havoc with the enema filled stomach that Mistress had filled slave with in the clinic. Typical of Maggie, slave gets knackered with all the extra effort and I get crushed because slave is enjoying doing as he is told. It’s not fair, just when I was getting used to the cage, I am put under further strain.

Mistress recognised the extra effort put in by slave and had planned a little relaxing time. Quiet contemplation for both slave and me. Laid flat in the centre of the room Mistress first smothered slaves head in a tight latex hood and then pumped it so that it was well 'ard. From my quiet but exposed position it appeared to me that slave was getting well pumped, not only at the hood end but the odd pump to refill the bardex. All this pumping just meant I could get no peace or relaxation and still rather uncomfortably still filled the cage.

Not content with the chaos Mistress was causing me due to slave enjoying his position, I could feel Maggie's latex clothing rubbing over my prison, but what could I do? - slave was no help with my predicament and just lay there with a big grin under the hood, so I just had to lay there as well in my prison and think how lucky we were. At least it was slaves mouth that received the red lips to secure slaves breathing tube. Red latex lips on my cage would have played havoc with my concentration to return to a more comfortable state.

I did add my own little bit of humour to the proceedings as slave was sat on the loo waiting to expel the enema. I was exhausted and as a result, totally relaxed, knackered and about as small as I would ever get. With a little gentle easing and twisting, slave was able to gently ease the cage and ball ring away and I was free. slave looked a little sheepish holding the locked cage in his hand as Mistress returned to the bathroom. Next time I may not be so lucky as to get so easily freed from my prison.

Testing Time for Slave

Mistress Maggie is finalising her designs for a new bathroom and looking to establish the most effective and efficient form of waste disposal. Naturally, being a caring sharing person, Mistress allowed me to help with her planning. I was to be the test bed for a couple of her ideas for keeping her toilets clean and well emptied. As one of Mistresses devoted slaves I was somewhat flushed with the thought of helping Mistress in her toilet quest.

I was hoping to give Mistress Maggie a pleasant surprise by duly arriving in my black latex briefs and tee-shirt underneath my outdoor clothes. It worked as Maggie had me take off all 'normal' clothing and parade in the Playroom before the formal start of the session. I received one of those truly disarming smiles that Maggie sometimes bestows on her fortunate slaves, accompanied by gentle stroking across the smooth rubber and then one of those impromptu hilarious moments that our sessions can generate.

Maggie was about to send me to the bathroom to prepare for session, mentioning that I should be quick because the bathroom was a little chilly today. I suppose I was trying to reassure Mistress that her slave was made of stern stuff when I quipped "I'm from Yorkshire. We're used t' cowd. I'm well 'ard." In that magical moment, we both realised what I had said. The latex undergarments had been working their magic for a while, I had received a major boost to my libido following Mistress upstairs in her plum latex top and black latex skirt, near enough to smell the heat from Mistress and, well, yes I was well 'ard. We both cracked out laughing as Maggie agreed after patting my encased bulge that, yes I was well hard! It set the tone for another memorable session.

Mistress proceeded to fit me into my heavy weight black latex catsuit and the butt plug that now slips, oh so easily, into its home. First Mistress wanted to make sure her toilet bowl was leak proof, I also had to be made leak proof before going in to check it out. All my zips were pulled up tight, my head sealed inside a snug latex hood and a wide eyed gas mask fitted, insulating me from the stormy elements about to head in my direction.

With my backside balancing on the last rung of the toilet bench, Mistress helped me into position inside the catchment tank. The preparations continued for Mistresses comfort by attaching mitts, rendering my hands useless, and the spreader bar threaded with the toilet roll. It is a strange feeling to gaze upwards and gradually have the toilet seat lowered and blocking out your sight.

I could hear Maggie drinking a couple of glasses of water and then the seat was lifted and the next vision was of Mistresses perfectly formed nether regions slowly descending and making herself comfortable with her intimate parts only centimetres away from my goggled and goggling eyes. I was then subjected to the most glorious and private side of Mistress that a slave will ever achieve as first a trickle then a flood erupted and showered over my frogman like head. Noah may have been worried by the flood but being from Yorkshire, I remained 'ard (very!). I have never experienced at that close range a Lady drying her private parts after a good pee and felt privileged that Maggie could share that with her slave.

The flood was safely captured within the bowl and I then had to consume the whole amount for recycling. Even though I say so myself, I was quite effective at pee removal, once the mask had been removed of course. I spent a while emptying the bowl and then cleaning the few drops that had splashed on the seat, surround and bench so it was ready for Mistresses next toilet visit.

Maggie seemed satisfied with that part of testing but wanted to test out an alternative flushing system. I was returned to the bowl without the mask but with a pair of the most viscous nipple clamps attached to the 'Tower of Pain’. The theory was that the clamps would be so tight that I would open my mouth in a long, silent scream and the waste fluids could then be consumed directly.

It worked, after a fashion. It was very difficult to concentrate on capturing the stream with the ever present pain and the visual distractions of Mistress gracefully covering the seat with her latex skirt, blocking most of the light. I had to locate the flow by sound and feel, sonar might have been appropriate for more accurate range finding - although sonar in a toilet bowl?  I've never seen that before.

Mistress took me through to the bathroom for a sponging down, happy that her toilet tester had answered some of her questions, but one or two still needed to be resolved, presumably by re-testing at a later date? I could only wonder at how Maggie could produce so much flow on two separate occasions. After all she is slim and petite but must have huge bladder capacity and control.

The second part of her design experiments took place in the clinic and involved the recycling capabilities of her toilet. I had been instructed to consume a full glass of water whilst in the bathroom and together with a

full tank of Mistress I knew I would need to pee in the near future. Mistress had that problem on her radar and fitted a catheter to her slave. No hiccoughs, one smooth action, strict cleanliness and sterile environment, procedure to follow and the snaky tube was in and inflated before you could say "I'm from Yorkshire . . . I’m well 'ard". Not that I could have said that, because I had been treated to Mistresses used red panties, stuffed in my mouth and bandaged in place inside the white rubber hood fitted for clinic work. It is amazing how efficient a pair of small panties can be as a gag but I was able to savour essence of Maggie whilst thoroughly moistening her smalls with a lot of my drool. Meanwhile, the contents of my bladder were being safely filtered into a drainage bag.

As occasionally happens Mistress gets really closely involved with slave treatments. The panty gag was stripped off and a black rubber anaesthetic mask strapped on in its place, Maggie used her own mask and joined me sharing a re-breather bag.

It is a really nice sensation that I have experienced on far too few occasions. Maggie breathes out into the re-breather and I breathe the sweet scent of Maggie that hangs on the recycled air. I am still a little rusty and I think I need a bit more practise in synchronised breathing. But it can be ever so distracting when Mistress decides its time to slide the catheter out of my cock and see if it can stay well 'ard after a good rubbing with her surgical gloves. Oh well, that is part of my slave training; to be trained to fit in with Mistresses rhythms.

Once again Mistresses thoughtful and caring side surfaced. Maggie knew that my mouth would be dry from moistening her panties and lack of fresh air, and suggested a small medicinal drink. The most convenient source was the little plastic bag that now held the re-cycled fluids from my emptied bladder. A measure was poured and the medicine was handed to me in a gallipot with the instruction to "drink it all up". Mistress wanted to record the event for the archive, but because I was so thirsty she missed the first draught, so I was treated to a second pot full and ordered to consume slowly and responsibly, always good, sound advice when drinking.

I am not sure either the pee recycling scheme or the self cleaning toilets will gain many investors on The Dragon's Den. Perhaps more product development and testing is required. I wonder if I can volunteer . . .