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.
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.
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.
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