Friday 18 December 2015

Festive Red Head

Hardly time to close The Chambers front door, take off coat and shoes and Mistress Maggie had a lead snapped onto my slave collar and leading me up the stairs in very close proximity to her black latex clad bottom. Again with some haste, I left the festive red catsuit spread out to warm on the rubber bed, changed into my red latex socks and gloves, and knocked gently on the playroom door awaiting permission to enter. Lick, kiss and caress Mistresses black court shoes as she lay supine alongside my catsuit on the latex bed; then as instructed, head down on carpet and in went the butt plug at whirlwind speed. Talc'd and inserted into the rubber suit and that was that, preliminaries over.
I could see the Plank ominously leaning against the far wall, but for now I could only guess whether it would be used.

Mistress sent me to The Clinic where I was told I would find a packet, with instructions to put on whatever was inside. I looked at the picture and the printed words and confirmed it was an electric cock cage. I opened it and emptied the contents onto a white towel that had been laid out for me. It soon became clear that I might have a bit of trouble locking it on, what with my long latex gloves on it was tricky to even grip the device.

After fumbling for a while I finally managed to disassemble the cage and attempted to snap a ring on behind my balls, however visibility down below was poor due to my fat belly. Then I sensed that Mistress was behind me with a question ’What's the delay slave?’, I explained the problems with the gloves. The solution was simple; remove the gloves. Mind you, I had to half undress to do it! My fault of course, I should have worn the gloves over the suit. Mistress had considerately thought that it would be less stimulating for her cock if I’d had to fit the cock cage by myself. Oh well, learn for next time. Instead, locking up Maggie’s jewels with padlock and key turned out to be a four handed assignment.

I don't know why, but when I read in the calling mail . . . Be prepared to be inflated for longer and higher this time. . . , I thought it referred to either inflating my ball sac again or wearing the nice inflatable hood for an extended period. I never expected to have two large bardex balloons inserted up my bum, along with the enema that Mistress emptied into my bowels and said in a low sexy voice, ‘You will hold that until the very end of your training today’.

All the while I was receiving the enema, Mistress was either massaging my abdomen to make more room for more enema, or helping me relax by administering aroma onto a pad inside the anaesthetic mask which she’d strapped to my face. That was most effective, I was enjoying feeling more and more full but unable to accommodate the ensuing erection because of the cock cage. Oh what a beautiful sensation.

As soon as Maggie determined that her slave was full enough, we moved back to The Playroom and that is where The Plank came into play. Its steel legs were attached and Mistress produced a large roll of red shrink-wrap to create a light wrap, from my knees, past my well filled bowels and up as far as my neck. Like a good slave I rotated when told to avoid giving Maggie the run-around. Mistress guided me towards the Plank where I lay down and was firmly attached to it with a lot more turns of the red plastic wrap.

I felt deeply moved (in more ways than just the enema) as Maggie produced and fitted a red plastic hood that she had crafted just for her slave. I eagerly sealed my lips around a breathe through gag as the hood was finally strapped in place. Learning from a previous experience where my rubber sock was accidentally ripped when I wore boots, Maggie remembered to put cotton socks on my feet before padlocking my legs into the most immobilising pair of bondage boots. A very warm hair dryer was played over my new red plastic skin. I felt good, tightly secure and ready for some 'unusual' suspension.

The picture shows how I ended up, but not before a little more stupidity from me and a lot more laughter from both of us.

‘Don’t wriggle or move’, was my instruction as Maggie began raising the Plank on the pulleys, unscrewing the legs so it could hang freely, first one end raised then the other.

It was at this point that my enema decided to relocate itself and I couldn’t help wriggling to accommodate it. I must have put the low suspended Plank off balance and, ever so slowly, like the Poseidon Adventure, the whole plank capsized at starboard side, until I was on my side with my breathing tube touching the carpet.

There was a moments silence and I thought what brilliant and unusual suspension. The wrap held very firm; I was still attached to The Plank; I was perfectly happy and then Maggie cracked out laughing and said ‘I told you not to move’. One thing’s for sure, I am living proof that it is still possible to laugh your head off even with an inflated gag filling your mouth! It took longer for our laughter to subside than for Maggie to return her planked slave back into a horizontal position and complete her planned diagonal suspension.

A Mistresses work on her slaves is never done. Using her fingernails Maggie picked her way through the shrink wrap to expose both nipples and groin, and switched the electric cock cage to ON. What a devilishly fiendish device that cock cage turned out to be.

Maggie knows her slave well and set a nice rhythmic pulsing through the cage. Nipple clamps next, red ones. I have had them before but today they were extra effective and I screamed through the gag as they bit home. Maggie said that a good dose of aroma would help me accept my painful predicament. There was a port in the red hood just above my left ear and Maggie had been using it to send in breaths of air, but now used it to insert an aroma infused pad.

When 'told' I made the conscious effort to unseal my lips from the gag and take a lungful of air from inside the hood. Ah yes - it did help but the clamps still bloody well hurt.

After a while Mistress removed my rubber breathing gag and something else was pushed into my plastic mouth hole. My instant reaction was to bite down on it, unfortunately it was Mistresses thumb. Word of advice: Never bite the hand that feeds you, or thumb in this case. Up went the electrics to Program 2 level 25. I wont do that again! The pain almost matched that through the nipple clamps.

As often happens when returned to a manageable level, the electrics milked me. No choice. No option. Uncontrollable. That is probably why it is called e-stim.
I then realised Mistress was serious when she said I was going home in the cage as she took one of the keys, sealed it in an envelope for absolute emergencies only, and marked it in such I way that she’d know if it had been tampered with. I was to return on Monday to be released.

Now unwrapped and with ballet boots and suit removed we moved carefully to the bathroom. Maggie deflated the double bardex and slowly removed the enema tube. I clenched my buttocks tight shut until safely on the porcelain then all hell was let loose. I was pleased when Mistress closed the door and returned to the Playroom, leaving me to my own devices.

I will do absolutely anything for Mistress Maggie, but I do draw the line at gassing her with the results of a long held soapy enema.

If you were following my previous blog, yes I was treated to another superb mince pie and I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and continue to enjoy reading about my excellent sessions with a truly remarkable Mistress and friend. Long may they continue.

Friday 4 December 2015

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of Fire

One of the most superb, fun and enjoyment packed sessions with Magical Mistress Maggie; having its foundations laid several months ago when I favoured a Flickr photo showing a pair of saline inflated balls. Mistress had contacted me several weeks ago, saying she had seen the photo and had begun preliminary research into the practicalities of satisfying that particular fantasy. No promises yet, as it would be an entirely new procedure for Maggie to perfect, but it had my mind soaring. Mind you, I should have predicted this. After all, on her website Maggie invites you to call her ‘If you are looking for a skilled Mistress to fulfil your fantasies . . .  ‘. It’s now more than four years since I made my call, Mistress knows what makes me tick and has identified more of my inner-most subconscious desires. As always Maggie was right; she knew exactly what drives her slave.

The session started in familiar territory; my catsuit laid out to warm on the rubber bed, while I was sent to the cooler bathroom to dress in latex gloves and stockings, just the way Mistress likes me when I present myself at her feet ready to serve and worship. Maggie was wearing attractive white strappy sandals over the top of her long latex stockings. I was given permission to kiss, lick and suck all parts, including the latex, but instructed not to stray beyond the very top buckled strap.

From this oblique angle I could make out the severe bruising on Mistress's left thigh, she had briefly mentioned an injury in her calling email. I just wished I could have kissed that better, but the area was still painful and definitely out of bounds, so I concentrated on her shoes and latex feet. Mistress did comment that I looked good with the heel of her sandal sucked deep into my mouth.

Ordered under the gantry on my back, Maggie stepped on my bare chest and promenaded along her soft human platform, just so I could receive the very best impression of her shoes. My time spent cleaning them had had good purpose, as who wants to be stabbed with stilettos that haven't been cleaned. And all these extra privileges because I said I loved the shoes. Next time I'll mention what lovely wellies Mistress possesses!

Next the ceremonial insertion of slave into catsuit. The powder dusting, stretching the tight latex over my body, the sound of those zips being pulled closed and the spray with Mr Sheen. 'Eyes closed slave.' followed by the chill as the spray polish hits latex and the oh so charged polishing of my second skin. Once hooded, I am totally enclosed and transformed into Maggie's rubber slave: I love that feeling. And the final apparel for her slave today, the superbly crafted and snug fitting upper body harness that any self-respecting slave craves for.

I am not proud of my poor achievements in the laundry stakes. Those who have followed this blog will remember a very happy outing to Blackpool where Mistress fed me a meal of her moist panties. I was sent home with instructions to launder them, which I did, before returning them to their plastic envelope and storing them safely in my perv bag.

When Mistress, out of the blue, asked for their return I thought nothing of it, as I knew I had hand washed them. I mounted them on a piece of stiff cardboard inside an envelope and posted them to Maggie. To my eternal shame, they weren’t laundered to the high standards expected by Mistress and this session was to include a lesson in hand washing. Handling a bar of soap is not easy with latex gloves on, but Mistress was insistent I use hot water combined with gentle soaping, then a lot of rinsing. I was back and forth between sink and playroom, holding up the panties for inspection several times, until Mistress pronounced she was satisfied that I knew how to wash a pair of her panties. It was strange how the panties had taken on the smell of the cardboard, but by the end they smelt like freshly laundered lingerie. A lesson well learnt and should Mistress ever entrust me with a similar activity, she has my promise that I shall be washing and rinsing those panties many times before returned them to her.

Maggie moved the low bench beneath the suspension frame and had me lie on it, with ankles strapped high onto the overhead frame and wrists secured beneath the bench. She stood towering above me waving a huge syringe. For a fleeting moment I thought Maggie was going to inject my scrotum from this position. Instead she sat down, making herself comfortable on my lower abdomen, directed her heels back into my flabbergasted mouth and demanded her slave begin licking. Her syringe was fully loaded with liquid, Mistress pointed it at me and let out a squirt warning me what happens to slaves who don’t lick heels properly. I instinctively opened my mouth to receive the thin stream of liquid, faintly golden coloured through the clear body of the syringe, the taste instantly recognisable as essence of Maggie. Then back to licking those white heels.

As Mistress adjusted her position from abdomen to chest, she turned to present those perfectly rounded fishnet covered buttocks to within inches of my eager gaze. Mistress outlined the procedure that was about to happen to me, and asked if I had any reservation at all about her inserting a cannula into my ball-sac and infusing a quantity of saline into the scrotum. I listened intently but I had already gathered as much information as I could from the Internet, and what Maggie outlined was exactly the 'best practise' advice that was available. In any case, my balls and scrotum are owned by Maggie to do with as she pleases and I have complete and utmost trust in my Mistresses abilities. I must say, it gave me a real thrill to know that Maggie is going to perform a brand new procedure, and it made me feel a little special knowing that I was trusted enough to be her genuine guinea pig for the operation.

I was taken to the Clinic and eased onto the gynae couch where Mistress finally fitted my butt plug, an unusual harness was deployed to hold it firmly in place which was pulled up between my legs securing my balls, cock and midriff to the couch. It felt like the base of my cock was in a steel clamp but the pictures show it as the tan coloured restrainer. I could tell Mistress was just a little anxious about the imminent new venture, as once again she asked if I was happy to proceed and once more I reassured her. Excited yes, worried no.


We were ready to begin. Off came the black hood to be replaced by the white latex re breather; controlled slow in and slow out deep breaths have proved to be the best way of managing this model. Occasionally, and only when I was breathing out, I could see what was happening through the air hole, but thereafter all events were effectively blind. First of all a nice sensation as Maggie massaged a generous dollop of cocoa butter into cock and scrotum. Maggie had produced a clear set of instructions and I could hear her reading them out loud. One: Put on gloves and apply an aseptic field. Out came the sterile cover and carefully placed over my abdomen. Two: Hang saline bag high on the IV stand. . .  It was great to hear this running commentary, not because I couldn't see but because I knew Maggie was following each step in minute detail, and I love to hear her voice, particularly when 'blind'.

And so it went on. Sterile gloves; antiseptic wipes; extract tube; check for kinks; (I thought the only kink was the one lying on the couch!). A minor hitch had Maggie quoting a few chosen expletives. Adjusting the flow regulator wasn’t as straightforward as it seemed, my cock and balls ended up receiving an unplanned wash down with sterile saline solution, and the tubing had made contact with the floor.

After a few extra notes of annoyance and exasperation Maggie opened a new sterile tube. Only to be expected, as Maggie is meticulous in her adherence to a sterile environment. I did try to say that the odd hiccough was inevitable when trialling a new procedure. This comment did not help at all so I lay still and concentrated on my breathing.

When Mistress was finally satisfied with bag and regulated saline flow, it was time to insert the cannula into the scrotum. That was the least painful injection I have ever experienced. Although I was told I might feel one, there was barely a prick as the needle went in, then no pain whatsoever. The tube was attached and finally I heard a contented sigh that suggested Maggie was feeling happier.

As she attempted to use a piece of medical tape to secure the cannula to my balls, that hint of exasperation returned again. Medical tape and saline drenched scrotum are not happy companions and the meditape wouldn't stick. A couple more expletives until Mistress realised that the needle was secure without tape and she finally relaxed. I could hear her moving round, checking the cannula was still safely inserted, checking her slave was OK and it was then down to gravity as the saline slowly filled my sac.

There was very little sensation to suggest that my scrotum was gradually expanding. I felt occasional movement as the sac eased to accept its added load, but no discomfort at all. In fact, if it hadn't been for Maggie's positive comments about her now owning a much bigger set of balls, I wouldn't know they were being inflated.

Every now and then, Maggie would grab and comment on them becoming a bigger handful; that was definitely a nice feeling as Mistress cupped and measured her slaves growing ball-sac. The circumference at the start was 7.5 inches and after saline 11.5 inches; quite a presentable increase for our first attempt. It took around 20 minutes for my saline infusion and Maggie estimates that after spillages 190ml of saline was injected into my ball sac. 

I gathered Maggie was pleased with her procedure, as she spontaneously tied a rope round my inflated balls and guided me downstairs to show off her achievement to her husband. I’m not convinced he was that interested, but Maggie did insist on having me do a celebratory dance to Gerry Lee Lewis's ‘Great Balls of Fire’. It could have been worse as the alternative was 'I am Saline' by Rod Stewart!  I do love her sense of humour and mischief and although I dance like Eeyore, the dangling rope looked like it was enjoying itself. Certainly where it was attached to was enjoying the moment. Thanks John for not laughing, too much, at my saline filled ball sac.

Back to the playroom for a little breath play. Maggie positioned me once more on the low bench but this time seated with legs astride. It is at this point that I should mention to any slaves fortunate to have their balls inflated, that it’s essential you remember that your scrotal sac is considerably larger than you may be used to, and best to concentrate when sitting down. I manhandled my balls out front and then eased myself down.

The heavy stocks were locked round my neck and attached by rope to the overhead; a little movement of each pulley and I was sitting rigid, save for a little play backwards and forwards. The rope allowed the wooden stocks to slide along the heavy metal frame. Quite deliberate and once again Mistress shows her expertise when designing how to restrain her slaves.

This session wasn't going to be allowed to end without a bout of 'simple' slave suffocation. Out came a large plastic bag and after a few wafts to fill it with life giving air, it was placed over my protruding head and tied firmly in place. I smiled at Maggie as she whispered, 'You have a lot of air in there slave so it will take a long time before you suffocate.’ I sat and breathed and tried to reduce my metabolism in order to prolong the pleasure. I could see Mistresses smile as she watched me slowly disappearing in my own mist and running out of air. A large self-contained electro pad was attached to my swollen scrotum, then Maggie produced the vibrator that I remember her buying on one of our visits to Saints and Sinners in Blackpool; a powerful, purple headed, mains powered little number, these menacing toys playing on my balls at the same time destroying any attempts at staying calm. Mistress was quite clear that I was not allowed to disgrace myself, and that I should spend some time later, on my own, investigating and reporting on the performance of my bigger balls. I do as I'm told so with difficulty, contained my excitement.

I did investigate them later and can confirm a few things;
1)  It feels great to walk with big balls swinging free. A bit like a ball weight of 190gms but all over your abdomen (that is also 190cc of increased scrotum capacity)
2) You need baggy trousers to accommodate the bigger ball sac
3) Afterwards your cock and balls work perfectly and fully function in all departments
4) This operation has drawn me far closer to my Mistress and I really loved the experience
5) Unfortunately, by the following morning, inflation signs had almost disappeared although I 'knew' they were still bigger
6) Mistress suggests using an anti wrinkle cream as she does not want her property marred by stretch marks

Another fantasy converted to reality by my owner and finally, I was given one of Maggie's home made exquisite mince pies. Not only the best Mistress, she also produces the best home made mince pies a person could want. The only negative point from this otherwise excellent session was the fact that I could only have one mince pie, so I booked another session before Christmas in the hope there might be one left.

Friday 6 November 2015

Chandeliering

Well, not exactly using a chandelier, but Mistress Maggie did have me swinging from the rafters in her Playroom; more of that later. I was instructed to bring my red catsuit and accessories for this session. The catsuit was left to warm in the Playroom, while I was sent to the bathroom to don the socks and gloves and return for mandatory worship. Today Mistress wore long shiny black boots and I immediately knelt before them to begin my homage with licks and kisses in the hope of also improving their shine. The rest of her outfit was latex; a pair of black latex briefs, stockings and a revealing top that showed a lot of her excellent midriff and even more of her stunning bosom.
Because of the longish break since our last session, Mistress insisted on giving her property the once over to check that hair removal was comprehensive and complete.

I invest a lot of time before my sessions using Veet to remove body hair, everywhere below the chin seems the best bet for achieving the clean and presentable look that Mistress prefers in a slave, first though a nice latex hood.

It was quite a lengthy hair inspection. Everything was going fine as Mistress shone her bright flexi-light over my body and underarms, then Disaster!

Mistress found a hair on my right nipple and decided to pull it off. Yes my nipple, not the hair. I stood the excruciating pain up to the point where I really was begging forgiveness, then Maggie ordered me face down on the bed where her torchlight investigations continued on my ass crack.

What a relief there. Not a hair in sight. Boy was I relieved as a similar squeeze to bollocks would really have had me begging.

Inspection over, I was to bend over the bondage bed where Maggie straddled my back, oiled my bum hole and inserted my butt-plug, and even more rubber for me as Mistress helped me into my red catsuit. I really do enjoy both these activities. You get to feel the warmth of your Mistress through her latex as she sits on you and you receive the most sensual feelings as she strokes and cleans the suit. I digress. . .

It hadn’t escaped my attention that the Playroom had been re-arranged. A stout leather harness was hanging by chains from the overhead suspension unit, and Mistress took a little time acquainting me with it, telling me that it would be used to hold me at various heights in a horizontal position from the gantry.

I eased under the frame whilst Mistress fastens me into the harness then lean back and let the harness take your weight whilst keeping your feet on the ground.

Next you need to trust both your Mistress and the harness supports. Maggie raised and secured first one leg then the other to the suspension gantry. I was then flying and that's where I thought of chandelier shenanigans.

For anyone who is fortunate to find yourself in this situation with Maggie, trust her implicitly, she is an expert and knows what she is doing, I do.

Mistress is a definite tease as she firstly inspected my cock for size and fitness then gently stroked it, my balls and anywhere else that took her fancy with a feather. Very gentle and very stimulating and I think Mistress was pleased with the end result, saying ’okay, now I have somewhere to stick my electrodes’. She then took a comfortable seat on my suspended rubber face and set the gantry into a slow swinging motion, my airways were repeatedly closed off by her rubber shorts, and Mistress knows too well that as long as I am struggling for air my cock will remain hard.

The time arrived for me to be hoisted higher. Left hand cable lifted, then right hand until Maggie was satisfied that it was exactly the right height for her to mount her slave. Each time the suspension was altered, the chains to the harness remained very secure but the chains on the legs slid downhill. As you might expect from such an experienced Mistress, this movement was planned to allow adjustment to my legs, but it was still funny as Maggie announced 'Soon have you level and balanced ' and did a lot of laughing.

Before removing my plug and thrusting deeply inside her slave, Mistress came round to my head so I could get a good view of the dildo about to be used up my bum. Having it forced into my mouth gave me a good taste of it as well. Imagine my surprise when Maggie handed me the camera. I was gobsmacked and somewhat startled until I was instructed to capture what was going to be up my rear. Thanks for the opportunity and it has produced a photo of a special Mistress from a special and unusual angle.

This has to be the best position Maggie has used to mount me. The height was just right, and just the right freedom in my legs to attempt to grab my Mistress round her waist as she pounded my bum and the suspension frame was certainly rocking as I tried to match Maggie's thrusts.

Enough of pleasuring her slave, it was time for Maggie to have some pleasure of her own. She filled the empty void left by her strap-on with an egg electrode before having her own fun. I have often remarked that I sometimes worry at Mistresses sense of humour as she said she didn't want the egg to hatch! Anyway, Maggie floated round to my head and I was fitted into the red rubber hood, which had a special perforated dildo attached to the breathing valve. I knew exactly where that was going.

Mistress adjusted the gantry again; left end down, both legs slide left, right end to level and I slide my legs back to the centre. As Maggie appeared at the periphery of my vision, I saw her removing those sexy black latex panties and Mistress mounted my face. First facing forward then with her bum-cheeks in my vision. Although the small windows of the mask give only limited vision, it was sufficient for one very eager slave to get a good view of Maggie easing her way onto her dildo, right in front of my eyes. My task to maintain the best angle for the dildo for Maggie's pleasure. Christmas has come early for this slave.

I heard one or two noises coming from Maggie that afternoon and afterwards she told me ... 'Must remember to raise you a little bit higher next time I ride on your dildo face slave, less work pleasuring myself.' As a slave with very little brain I dream that I may be fortunate enough to benefit from this activity again, but realise it could equally refer to another slave in a similar position.

Either scenario is good because it means Mistress is going to get more pleasure, more easily the next time.

The perspective of the photo belies the fact I was swinging free approximately two feet (60.96cm) above the Playroom floor and rocking to my Mistresses movements.

After what I considered far too short a time helping my Mistress pleasure herself on my face, it all changed. Maggie, with a smile on her face, sauntered round to fix a couple more electrodes to complete the circuits ready for some electroplay. One in the end of my cock, and once she had found and captured them, one round my balls. Maggie always finds it amusing trying to capture both balls; they seem to have an escape plan all of their own. Perhaps they could make a film about my bollocks; The Great Escape or Houdini perhaps. Apologies. Back to the blog.

It was then time to be released from the suspension harness. Mistress, as always, was very careful of her slaves welfare when getting my feet back on the ground. My only concern was that Mistress would not bang her head on the heavy metal gantry. I clucked and fussed like an old hen and I wondered if that hidden egg was actually being incubated?

Although I had loved the swinging suspension, it was nice to be guided onto the bed and told to relax on my back where the red gas mask was replaced by the more usual black latex hood. White rope being used to make her slave almost immobile and totally at her mercy. Perhaps mercy is not the right phrase here, although Mistress does have a wonderfully caring streak that is allowed to surface occasionally as well as her alternative sadistic side.
Anyway, whatever mood Maggie is in, I willingly accept everything she wants to do. On this occasion she had arranged a most unusual electric sensation, and for the first time I got a real buzz at the base of my spine as well as cock and balls. It must have been the anal egg electrode that was actually starting to hatch.

Maggie blindfolded me and strapped an anaesthetic mask over my mask holes, sealing me into my rubber, but I knew by the extra dangling tube that she was going to share the breathing bag with her slave. When this happens I try to breathe in on Maggie's exhale so she can draw in the sweeter air.

All the while the electrics were working away, the delightful sound effects of the re breather filling my ears, plus Maggie's close proximity, and this time I just couldn’t wait for the authority and embarrassed myself. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? On this evidence it was definitely the slave. More training in self control required.

Thank you Mistress for yet more memorable and new experiences. You certainly are the best in the West (and North and . . .) what a sycophant!

A final 'new' surprise was Maggie's new hair style that you can just glimpse in one of the photos. There are some far better and clearer pictures of her new style on her Flickr account. For anyone visiting Mistress I have been personally assured that, yes it is real, yes it is her own hair, no it’s not a wig - and yes it looks absolutely stunning and really suits Mistress Maggie.

Friday 16 October 2015

To the Woods - Home by Three

After our exciting latex walk in the woods, Mistress Maggie, John her husband/photographer and I made our way quietly back to their home, and after a welcome coffee John downloaded the photos whilst Mistress had some unfinished business with her slave.

Maggie required a toilet visit and must have decided I was dehydrated after my strenuous walk, a lead was clipped on and I was walked to the bathroom. By now Mistress had hung up her rubber trench coat to reveal the very sexy sheer outfit that she’d been hiding underneath it all afternoon. I was instructed to lay on my back with my neck resting on the toilet seat; I had never been in this position before, and Mistress made no effort to remove her sheer clothes as she moved into a straddle position, taking her place above my mouth. Her abilities never fail to amaze me, as she settled her nylon covered crotch and released just sufficient pee for me to get a nice mouthful and stopped to allow a gulp. And so it went on: pee flow, pee stop, swallow when told; pee flow, pee stop, swallow when told, for about five minutes. Occasionally, as Mistress repositioned herself I was granted a very special view, she would lean forward and I got a glimpse of her radiant smile as she prepared another gulp for her thirsty slave. I think it fair to say I was well hydrated by the time Maggie had emptied her bladder, apart from a little dribble the bathroom managed to remain a pee free zone.
Of course, Maggie’s tights were well wet, all the moisture needed sucking out and the tights made clean and comfortable, I set about the job with great gusto. First with tongue to suck away any remnants, then I was instructed to soap up a flannel and gently clean her lower abdomen.

I must confess, I allowed myself to linger a shade too long on these duties which elicited the rebuke, ’Are you trying to excite your Mistress?’. What could I say, of course I was. ‘Just get on with your cleaning’, and fortunately that was that. I now had to blow until Mistress and her tights were both dry and comfortable, and me a very happy slave. As you would expect spillages had to be licked up and the floor cleaned, until Mistress was satisfied that her premises were once again spotless.

Returning to the Playroom I was told to kneel over the low bench and present my rear for her attention. On her recent trip to Amsterdam Mistress had acquired a new suede whip and was determined to give it a good work out on her latex slave. But before that, the rubber hannibal mask was pulled over my head, it fits like a glove but rules out any chance of sticking out your tongue, probably a good thing as it is one less way for her slave to get into trouble.

ADVICE: The observant among you will note my ripped sock. That was my own stupidity and happened while I was trying to pull my wellington boots on for the walk. I put a sock on the other foot that helped get it booted without incident.

I received a sound whipping, and the sound was amazing. Swish, thwack, swish THWACK. First the right cheek then the left, harder and harder. Mistress knows that the heavyweight rubber catsuit affords my arse considerable protection. I am not certain if she was at full throttle but decided to reposition me by hanging my wrists to the central overhead ring. This allowed her much greater freedom and access, with the 'Legs apart, slave' command I was more vulnerable and crucially I was unable to stretch the protective thick latex across my cheeks.
That whipping was far more effective, the lashes playing on many parts of my anatomy: my buttocks, my back, groin left, groin right, my cock and balls from front and rear; all receiving a good whipping with the occasional swish across my exposed nipples. Am I really perverted or just devoted to a perfect Mistress? I actually stood without too many grunts and started to really like the situation.

Mistress continued until she was satisfied that her new purchase was a good buy and that her slave had received a good dose of the whip.

I was released and I thought Maggie was being kind allowing me to relax on the sheep skin rug. Mistress was quite precise that I should lie completely on the rug. How thoughtful and it was comfy.

On went the ankle and wrist cuffs securely fixing my arms uselessly beneath me. No one can say Mistress does not prepare meticulously even for 'impromptu' sessions. Two bright red flying saucers appeared before my eyes, they looked homemade and I had not encountered them before, but I was about to get a very close encounter. Before I knew it they had landed on my nipples, where Mistress attached them with some tape and proceeded to give both nipples a good waxing. Drip, drip, drip until each nipple was encased in solidifying hot candle wax. The first few drops are the worst; as the wax layers build up the nipples become more protected. But Maggie ensured every bit of exposed nipple had their own little drop of hot wax applied.

What a day. A walk in the woods with Mistress, a good whipping, a thorough waxing, and now Mistress was standing above me slowly opening my crotch zip. My erection sprang out and Maggie put her boot on it, pressing it down and steadily working my foreskin back and forth under the sole of her boot, and the ends of her swaying whip were brushing against my latex suit. It was getting all too much and I said to Maggie that I was about to cum. ‘You can. Only when I have counted to 10’, she said. 1, 2, 3 . . . 8, 9, 10 and bang on cue I couldn't hold it in any longer. This time though I think Maggie was pleased because I had managed to hold on, not relieving myself until I was instructed.

Quite a day and one really good way to celebrate four years with the only Mistress I will ever want.

To the Woods



Ode to my Mistress; Mistress Maggie.




If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise.

If you go down in the woods today, you'd better go in disguise;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day that Mistress has her picnic.




Every Yorkie dog who's been good is sure of a treat today.

There's lots of marvellous things to eat and wonderful games to play.

Beneath the trees where nobody sees they'll hide and seek as long as they please

For that's the way latex bears have their picnic.




Picnic time for rubber dogs

The rubber dogs are having a lovely time today

Watch them, catch them unawares and see them picnic on their holiday.




See him gaily gad about.

They love to play and shout.

They never have any cares.

At three o'clock their mummies and daddies will take them back home to bed

Because I'm a tired little doggy bear.




If you go down in the woods today, you better not go alone.

It's lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day the rubber dogs have their picnic.



It had been far too long since my previous session, when Mistress Maggie mailed me to remind me that the four year anniversary of my fortunate entry into her slave training program was upon us. As you would expect from a caring Mistress, she thoughtfully asked how I would like to celebrate. There was only ever one answer that I could make, and I e-mailed back saying I would like her to choose from her 'bucket' one of the activities she wanted to perform before it was too late.



Four days before our next scheduled session I received this rather exciting e-mail:

" . . . Fridays training time has been amended to 1pm.
I recommend that you do some private reading in preparation for Friday. Be a good dog and recap on your obedience and discipline training as practised in session 75, 16 Jan 2015. . ."



I had four whole days to bone up on the aforementioned session, and the night before Mistress reminded me with:

". . . You are required to assist your Mistress with an outdoor fantasy adventure, your job to drive me to a secret location where dogs are allowed to walk. The temperature may be a little cool but the forecast is for fine weather. You will be required to take on the characteristics of a dog, albeit a rubber one, and with further instruction partake in exercise and disciplines as suits a well behaved canine. . ."



My Playroom training in the following disciplines were thoroughly tested on our walk and I was expected to complete -

 Walk smartly to heel
 Stay on command
 Run and retrieve a thrown object
 Jump for an object
 Come when called
 Rest quietly at Mistresses feet


The pictures speak for themselves and can only give a limited impression of what a fantastic afternoon we were able to enjoy. There were one or two special moments. I really delighted Maggie and photographer husband John when I returned the yellow 'fetch' ring cradled in a paw; they both thought that I wouldn't be able to retrieve the ring but I was determined to make it happen, and when I was sitting next to my Mistress with my snout gently cradled in the lap of her rather gorgeous rubber coat.

We were fortunate that the location is VERY secluded, but what would anyone have thought who came across the three of us? Quite frankly, I didn't care. We were out enjoying the autumnal weather, everything decent (apart from maybe when Mistress Maggie was fixing my butt plug tail), and it was a Mistress/friend and her dog out to play taking a few excellent photos.

We returned to the Chambers, a cup of coffee later we finished an excellent anniversary bash with some impromptu action. That in itself is worth a read but I will be reporting on that shortly.

Finally, I would like to thank Maggie's husband John for turning out on a coolish but dry autumn afternoon and taking the excellent photographs despite the remnants of a cold. Thanks John.

Tuesday 15 September 2015

What a Wanker!

What a wanker. When I said I was home alone for the week, and Mistress Maggie replied with  'I’m not sure you should be allowed that much freedom',  I thought she was hinting at sending me home in a chastity device. That is not how the session had been planned and I deeply regret having masturbated twice in the 24 hours before our session. It is certainly not an activity I normally do and my only aim was to provide a less unruly cock for Maggie's chastity cage. I don't think Mistress was at all pleased that I had been playing with her property without her consent and I shan't be doing that again in a hurry!

What a fabulous start. I was beckoned inside by a stunning Mistress in a very tight black and red latex leotard, shiny black leggings and flame red ankle boots, and given a very heart warming hug and welcome kiss. As I followed Maggie up the stairs I was fixated, as I often am, by her perfectly formed, latex covered orbs undulating right in front of my bulging eyes. So much so that it was only when I paid homage to Maggie's red boots that I noticed the stunning red ribbon lacing up the rear of her shiny pants. Mistress laughed as she confirmed that those very same red ribbon laces were there when I climbed the stairs. Fortunately she knows I worship her bottom and that would excuse my poor peripheral vision. 

With the formal program briefing delivered and agreed, I was eased into the tight, heavy black rubber catsuit and Maggie strapped me tightly into a leather waist corset. Perhaps Mistress was going to strap me into the latex sheeted Playroom bed and leave me to sleep: For a fleeting moment, that sounded so inviting. However, reality kicked in and I realised it was a definite non starter as Maggie does not entertain overnight slaves. Instead Maggie hooked her finger through my collar ring and guided me towards the door saying we would be visiting the Clinic. I thought I would be helpful by opening the Playroom door. Wrong again. I really wasn't doing too well in the anticipation stakes. Instead Mistress placed my nose against the red Playroom door and barked ‘Stay’. And stay I did for as long as Maggie needed to ready herself. I heard that familiar rustle as a plastic bag was eased over my head, tightened at the neck and used to lead this bagged slave to the Clinic.

Target for strap-on
I had no air whatsoever as Maggie pinioned me against the wall, she told me rather unconvincingly that I had plenty of air and should let her know when it had ALL run out. I might have, but that damned plastic had sealed firmly across mouth and nose and couldn't breath in or out. Fortunately it was obvious that I had no air at all. 

With the system mask fitted I was to lie on the couch with my legs wide open. Mistress really does know her slave, and how, despite 89 sessions, I still cannot fully control my hands from trying to caress those tempting latex covered orbs. Maggie used the leather mitts and wrist cuffs to help her slave, my hands were quickly locked well out of the way of any temptation and my treatment was underway.

An anal examination first. A single finger was inserted, and some lube, then a long whiff of aroma to ease the passage and Mistress eased her strap-on dildo inside. A steady, very nice fuck being the outcome.

The void as Mistresses strap-on was withdrawn was filled with an inflatable vibrating butt plug, pumped up, not too tight, and set to 'On’, and I lay there buzzing while Maggie busily moved around me, adding numerous leather straps and making sure I was securely strapped down on the gynae table.

A small operation followed to assess the size of my cock passage. I couldn’t see, but I certainly could feel a series of cold instruments being inserted down my cock, as Maggie tested my size with chilled pyrex sounds, each one being slightly larger than the previous. I could actually feel the butt-plug vibrations going outwards from the fully inserted sound. Yet another sensation Mistress has introduced to her property.

Clamped catheter
I am one of the luckiest slaves alive being lavished with all this luxury treatment, although I could only manage to moan my appreciation on this occasion, as the system gag had been fitted and inflated.

The goodies just keep on flowing as did my pee when Maggie followed the sounding with a new type of catheter. I do love it when Mistress introduces me to her new equipment and I will always be truthful in my responses as to its effectiveness and comfort.

Rule 1 – The slave must always be honest . . . 

It was then that the stupidity and thoughtlessness of my earlier hand-job reliefs hit home. Mistress carefully teased the catheter home saying ‘Don't you dare cum’. But for the pumped up gag filling my mouth, I would have confessed there and then that I thought the tanks were empty. I just grunted agreement not to disgrace myself. And what to do with the excess saline solution from the catheterisation? Easy. Maggie put a long needle on her saline syringe and injected the liquid leftovers directly into my ball sack. Ah bliss, yet another fantasy realized.

Long deep breaths
Maggie promised to indulge both herself and me with a little more serious breath play. The outer part of the system hood was attached and hooked up to a single re-breather bag.

I was left to try and fill my drain bag while getting used to the feel of the breathing set-up and taking regulated breaths. You have to be disciplined, no matter what Mistress is doing to you elsewhere. There is a technique: Long breath out, long slow breath in, in, out maintaining that steady rhythm.

When Maggie was happy with my trials the mask was finally reconfigured, with the help of a t-piece joint, the system mask was transformed into an indulgently serious re-breathing unit. Through the small lenses I could just see the tubes as they snaked towards my only source of air, and Mistress standing by monitoring her slave.

Reconfigured system mask
Eventually Mistress thought I’d had enough and removed the mask, but I think she sensed my disappointment, because without further ado I was once again subdued with aroma and the trusty plastic bag was back over my face. I wasn't at all concerned as Maggie gave me a gentle kiss through the plastic and began reciting her eulogy for a slave, or to be more precise, her eulogy for an expired breathplay slave. ’He was a good slave, but all slaves must eventually take their final breath . . . ‘.

It sounded a little terminal and I can only remember parts of it, but what the heck, I was prepared to ease away as the restricted air first produced unconsciousness then . . . I didn't care, I was perfectly relaxed and happy with whichever direction Maggie wanted to take her slave. It could never get that far as Maggie is too professional and experienced, but a slave can dream and I do know Maggie enjoys her slaves more when they are gasping for air.

All good things come to an end and I was really disappointed as Mistress whispered that it was getting close to my bedtime, and again realized she was referring to the lateness and not any possible latex covered incarceration. Just after 22:00 and Mistress had completed her planned activities, albeit a few moments late. That’s always the case as Maggie is never a clock watcher when it comes to her slaves and I was still alive and a very happy slave.

A few final thoughts to other slaves who are fortunate or sensible enough to be contemplating asking Mistress Maggie to help liberate your inner desires:

Leave three or four days before a session as wank/sex free days. Mistress does enjoy tormenting a firm cock.
Don't touch her property without her say so.
If you need to leave at a specific time, tell Maggie beforehand.

I know I will do anything that my Mistress asks of me. Perhaps I am a little closer to becoming an acceptable slave to an exceptional Mistress?

Friday 28 August 2015

Leather Bondage

Despite always trying to give 100% to please my Mistress, I seem to often get things wrong, and today I was really in her bad books. I had misunderstood some instructions that Mistress Maggie had given me and ended up creating unnecessary work for her, not good as Maggie already had an extremely busy week with little time to spare. I hoped that I could redeem myself, but there is always a consequence for poor work and so it emerged in my calling mail . . . Mistress is ready to administer some strict leather and discipline. It will be horizontal stripes aplenty . . . 

I was to receive a caning, cropping, tawsing or something similar to encourage better attention. I thought it might be a good idea to save Mistress some time and arrive wearing my butt plug, and wear my latex socks in an attempt to please her. The moment I entered, Maggie snapped a lead on my slave collar and marched me upstairs. Perhaps Maggie did have a heart and she appreciated my attempts to ingratiate myself.

None of it. I was slapped, hard, several times and sent to the bathroom, this time to remove the socks and butt plug and return to the playroom wearing nothing rubber at all. In the bathroom there was a note taped to the wall.

It was quite clear. 20 strokes of the cane. My heart sank because I knew there was no changing the course of my punishment. Maggie had decided twenty and twenty I would receive, but before the formalities, Mistress was going to have a bit of fun with her slave. I was ordered to demonstrate how I’d inserted my plug at home, and was pleased that I managed to contort myself in a way that I could slip it in easily. Yes, and it slipped out again just as easily as Maggie promptly pulled it out of my ass and reinserted it the way 'she likes to do it'.

I was allowed a tight latex hood, which I was to wear for worship of Mistresses high heeled leather thigh boots, then while my tongue was still out Maggie suggested I might like to put it to work making something that was perfect even more perfect. She eased down her tight black leather trousers then her briefs, leaned over the whipping horse and tugged on my leash, forcing my nose right between her bum cheeks, I licked and sucked and licked and cleaned Mistresses arse hole until it shone. It was not enough, Maggie said I should learn what it’s like to be busy and should lick her arse faster and faster. Actually when I was finally told to stop Mistresses arse hole did shine with all my saliva, and at last Maggie said I had made an adequate job with my licking.

It was now my time over the horse but I was to be tied down so I couldn't move. Maggie asked if I had worked out how many strokes I would be receiving and laughed saying that she’d given a big hint in my calling mail - ’Stripes aplenty ...' rhymes with twenty!  I just smiled and thought of Rule 13: Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times.

At least, the routine for a caning punishment is well established. A good five minutes hand slaps as warm up then change to the cane. Tap tap tap to gauge range, a couple of swishes, maybe a couple more range finders then THWACK followed by searing pain as the cane bites. A few moments to let me catch my breath, then swish tap tap THWACK

At 15 strokes Maggie asked how many. Don't make the mistake of not counting. ’15 Mistress’, I said confidently and it suddenly got easier. 16, 17, 18, 19 and finally 20. Remembering my earlier punishment, I very rapidly said ‘Thank you Mistress for helping to correct my failures’. At least I didn't earn another 20!. 

20 horizontal and perfectly parallel, symmetrical wheals that are still tender after three days. You can also just see more results of my carelessness on the floor. Talcum powder from my socks formed neat highlights at each footfall. I had to clean that up as well but not until Maggie had removed my plug and replaced it with a pumped up double bardex, just in case . . .

I must admit, it must be quite amusing for Mistress to witness her slave waddling around with the bulb knocking between my knees. I was just relieved to be told to replace the flogging horse back in its position beneath the window. Then I set about attacking my footsteps with a damp towel. That bit at least pleased my Mistress as all the talc prints disappeared.

Formalities over, Maggie was now going to convert me into a leather object by incarcerating her slave inside her leather sleep sack. My tight latex hood was replaced with the even tighter pewter inflatable one; a very comfortable model with sealed plastic lenses and breathing tube. Maggie chose to keep it deflated while she helped me inch myself into the heavy leather sleep suit. There are internal arm pockets and once zipped, laced and tightly strapped in I was in danger of falling over. Mistress, as you would expect, had thought of that and strapped me securely to the bars of the cell before fitting my head into a leather head cage. 

The head cage was a bit of a struggle for Maggie due to my height, but eventually I heard the click as the two halves fastened in place and its neck strap fixed with a buckle. A bulb pump was used to inflate my hood and as the hood inflated, given the restraints of the head cage there was only one way the pressure could go, inwards, making my face feel like it was in concrete. As added security, Mistress secured a stout chain through the shoulder straps and over the top bar of the cell door. Even if I wanted to I could not collapse in a heap on the floor.

Every now and then, Maggie appeared in my very limited field of vision, I could just make out through the misted perspex eye pieces that very disarming smile as she poked her finger in the end of the breathing tube to restrict my air supply. What could I do? Absolutely nothing, so I just thought of Maggie and hoped she got her finger out before I ran out of air. She did, but this was an intense hooding and breathplay experience, the simple act of gasping for available air was exerting, as I said, my head felt like it was cast in concrete, the pressure from the inflated hood prevented any facial movement and my mouth remained closed and clamped around my mouth tube.

I only got a small taste of this unique hooding sensation as Maggie had other plans for her leather object and after a little more breath control Maggie deflated the hood. At last I could take a large welcome gasp of air and check if I was able to still move my jaw.

The discreet entrances at cock and nipples were opened and Maggie attached a cock strap and reins at the bottom end and rather severe screw on nipple clamps at the top openings. Maggie had been toying with the idea of administering an enema through the bardex, but fortunately for me the bulb had managed to move into an unreachable position, so Maggie was satisfied with sitting on her throne and pulling on the cock strap, waggling the ropes until it came off. The cock strap not the cock! Although by now I was close to my cock cumming off.

The last vestiges of rubber were removed as my hood was replaced with a padded leather isolation hood. Comfy but all enveloping and impossible to see through. I was now exactly what Mistress had set out to achieve; her leather play slave.
To make matters even more leathery, Maggie gently eased her delicious leather covered buttocks against my groin and I just made out through the heavy hood her asking me a question.

Do you like leather slave?’.

Of course I love leather, Mistress had already told me I love leather. My easy reply, ‘Oh yes Mistress’.

'Then you can fuck my leather clothes slave’

As I thrust my groin against her leather clad body, Maggie persisted with her teasing. Nipples were still available and received the most sensual nibbling and biting a slave could ever dream of. The warm lips first on one nipple then the other, then the biting teeth nibbling a nipple and her leather glove covering my tiny air holes.

It was now that I realised why Maggie had attached the steel chain. I just sagged with the pure sensations that Mistress had created in her leathery toy. When she finally cropped the end of my cock and instructed me to cum. I came. Maggie saw and Maggie conquered. A well satiated slave who will continue to do anything for his Mistress.

This leather sleep sack is one helluva piece of equipment, but then again Mistress Maggie is one helluva Mistress.