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.