Friday 15 January 2016

BDSM Fundamentals

The calling mail indicated . . . I will take you back to the fundamentals of BDSM, where you will be bowing at my every command. . .  and so Mistress Maggie summoned her very willing acolyte to continue my slave training with my exceptional Mistress.

Bowing began immediately as I went down on my knees presenting myself at Mistresses feet. I was asked to give her boots a thorough tonguing to give them a deep clean; my first mistake. I thought Maggie was wearing ankle boots; this mistake attracted heavy slaps as encouragement to worship the full length of her knee length boots. I don’t know how I could have missed that. I usually grab any excuse to do long flowing worship up Maggie's stunning legs. The boots Maggie wore did a good job of matching her latex stockings and I really thought they were ankle length and my worship and cleaning had to stop at ankle boot level. I am, after all, only a stupid slave, and now a stupid slapped one.

After helping me into my rubber catsuit, I was hooded, butt plug inserted, and Maggie told me to lie on the rubber bed where I was 'eased' into the Gates of Hell cock cage and told to maintain an erection. At that point, maintaining an erection was the least of my worries. Mistress then got to work tying me into a simple rope harness, which provided the foundations for the next stage, chair bondage.

The folding Playroom Chair was already in position, with cock and balls exposed and arms behind, I was loosely secured. The black steel leg spreader was roped at ankles to relentlessly spread my legs, well that is what a leg spreader does, and then attached to my bound wrists. That was effectively providing the only real attachment to the chair. I could move, but I wouldn't and didn't as I was plunged into a state of real mental torture. Mistress used a leather blindfold to rob my vision and rubber gag to pump up my cheeks. Maggie knows how I love watching her move seductively round her prey, but I was only able to feel her fingertips as she teased my nipples with strokes and pinches or just stroked my latex suit. For me, the torture of the blindfold is just as real a torture as the nipple clamps I was about to experience.

Mood music was quietly playing and in my sightless state I drifted towards lyrics from Tommy* (well almost anyway).


I'm your wicked Mistress Maggie

I'm glad you won't see or hear me

As I fiddle about

finger fiddle about. . .

Wicked Mistress Maggie applied nipple clamps and was hell bent on testing which ones would make me gasp the most, helped by the plastic bag of course, and when Maggie deemed it necessary, 'another half turn' of the nipple screws increased both the grip and the gasping. Before applying the first set of nipple clamps, Mistress had gently applied a little talc round each exposed bud and I thought how nice Maggie is to her slaves. Hmmm! De-greasing the nipples to provide better grip for those pesky little nipple clamps!. As I said, Maggie plans for everything.

Then a real surprise and treat, although not unprecedented. Maggie climbed inside the plastic bag and appeared to enjoy a little shared restricted breathing with her slave. I tried not to breathe too heavily as I wanted Mistress to remain in such intimate close proximity for as long as possible. I savoured her warm closeness as we gasped, cheek to cheek inside the warming bag. I could taste the air from inside Mistress as she breathed in and out and held the bag tightly shut against both our imprisoned necks.

The difference of that dynamic being that when Maggie had gasped enough, out she emerged with a warm moist glow on her cheeks, whilst I was left increasingly excited, frustrated and feeling a very warm glow inside the bag.

When finally I was let out of the plastic, an O-gag was forced into my mouth and secured with a tight head harness and Mistress used this to yank my head back and produced several large doses of spittle, each accurately deposited down the centre of the gag. I have promised to do anything for my Mistress and these deposits were like little globules of honey as Mistress shared her saliva with her slave.

Leonard Cohen was now moaning quietly away in the background but I couldn't help thinking of another couple of lines from Tommy*.

. . . But tied to that chair you won't go anywhere

There's a lot I can do to a freak. . .

Mistress said I was not gasping enough and would be progressing onto another head trip that would have me open my mouth wider and out came the latex suffocation hood. I was first introduced to this hood during my second saline infusion and there is not a lot of room inside for spare air, but this time Maggie slackened the neck tie to allow just sufficient in for it to be worn for a longer period.

Tension and frustration were really starting to build by this stage, regular nipple clamp tightening continued and once again Maggie's clever planning and attention to detail was evident. Rather mischievously, she attached a vibrator to my slave collar with a short length of playroom rope, switched it on and let it dangle. By judicious bowing and careful aim I could make contact with my lower bits and rattle on the Gates of Hell! Incidentally, contacting a vibrating vibrator on the cock rings plays a most unusual tune as well as rather nice sensations.

Yet more mental torture. I was to follow my orders and bow to Mistress on command. This meant two possible predicaments: Sitting upright, I could just make out Mistress through a haze of amber light through the latex suffocation hood, but the vibrator was then too high to stimulate, or I could bow forward to make contact then only view Mistresses boots through my restricted position and get more pain from the nipple clamps.

I am unsure how many times Maggie commanded me to bow, but I soon learned that it was best to obey quickly, as my left cheek was attracting a lot more unwarranted attention, earning a heavy slap or two whenever I reacted too slowly.

One final change of head and cock gear resulted in Maggie fitting me with the s10 gas mask, along with electrodes to replace the Gates of Hell, but not before I received two very welcome gulps of refreshing, cool water from Maggie, delivered directly into my mouth by my Mistress. She drank but didn’t swallow instead, at very close quarters, touching my lips, spat the cool liquid directly through the opening in my hood and into my mouth. A most efficient method of giving a slave a drink and not a drop was spilled.

I do wish Maggie wouldn’t ask her stupid slave to make decisions about my training. 'What program on the e-stim slave?'. How the hell do I know? I'm only a simple slave and do as I'm told. Two I blurted out and two it was. Perhaps next time I'll be bold and use the untested programs five or even program nine!

Generous to a fault Maggie also changed the nipple clamps. By this time my nipples hurt like hell but at least Maggie appeared amused by my discomfort and I got further visual stimulation through the s10 as Mistress donned her own gas mask hood. What a strangely exciting sight as what was once my stunningly attractive Mistress was transformed into a stunningly attractive alien, and an alien who was in control of the e-stim box to boot.

Program Two started gently, sending a consistent pattern through my genitals for quite a while, then I could feel the pulse being massively ramped-up by Maggie and I was left to wriggle and stew for a couple of minutes whilst my alien Mistress watched her tortured subject from the comfort of the Playroom bed. Mistress decided that it was time to bring the session to a close and she stood next to me and positioned the e-stim controller so I could see the display through the s10. The display showed a bright number 40 and we quietly watched the number changing as Maggie turned the dial and gradually reduced it to zero. I was left shaken, stirred, nipple tortured and thoroughly frustrated with all the unfulfilled excitement.

Even after three days, I can stroke my sensitive nipples, recall another excellent session and raise a storming erection. Mistress Maggie is real good at this slave training job.

* For the uneducated: Tommy is a rock classic by the Who.

Friday 8 January 2016

2016 - Ginger, Nut Inflation Figures

Record 2016 inflation figures have just been announced and are predicted to reach even higher levels as the year progresses, according to Mistress Maggie that well known, well respected and well loved North West slave owner; and a Happy New Year to all who may benefit from these higher than anticipated statistics.

Mistress outlined her session plan: I was to be her pet again today, and to get started I would require a tail; we would spend generous time in the clinic infusing a couple of bags of saline; then a leisurely walk round a local supermarket and perhaps a coffee; return to The Chambers where I would receive my final training for the day.

As Mistresses preference was for a black rubber dog I was sent away to make it so, returning on all fours in latex tee-shirt, shorts, gloves and socks. My pat on the head was replaced with an open faced latex mask, then raising my hind I received my tail; four anal beads with a long grab handle, you may just be able to see the end sticking out of my bum, and it wags a little when you move about.

With those hard balls filling me up I was consistently reminded that I had a tail. As Maggie's pet it is obligatory to walk with Mistress and catch up on some doggy etiquette, lead on and off we trotted, completing a number of circuits round the Playroom and finally ending up in the Clinic.

Most times I would be strapped down on the gynae couch in an instant, but today in my role of dog I was to stay off the furniture. Like every good dog I sat attentively awaiting my owners command, perhaps a little too attentive as my Mistress leaned over the couch in her heels and stockings and started provocatively teasing her dog.

I was soon sniffing and cleaning my Mistresses offered bum-hole as she slowly raised her latex skirt and eased the red latex briefs down to reveal it. I was instructed to get familiar with Mistresses scent just in case we were separated during our shopping trip. That would have raised a few eyebrows if I suddenly started sniffing ladies bottoms to check which one was my owner!

Anyway, with the open face mask, for the first time I had an unrestricted view of Mistresses pert little bottom and made quite a meal of being a good licking and sniffing dog.

Enough doggying. Onto the couch, and cock and balls given a good dousing with cocoa butter. Not gentle this time. Maggie was vigorous with the application and I am sure it was only to get her pet to whine, which I did, as she slapped it on, pulled my balls, thoroughly massaging my ball sac. Continuing the canine theme I was informed I was about to receive a proper pair of dogs bollocks, and after the necessary hygiene precautions Mistress stuck two cannulae in, attached two saline bags and set them infusing. A tourniquet was applied at cock base to help prevent the cock skin from being inflated.

Mistress, concerned that her pet may become bored waiting for my balls to fill and two saline sacks to empty, arranged a little distraction therapy to keep her pet amused for the twenty minutes or so.

First, she completely sealed my face inside a small rubber suffocation bag, but it soon became apparent that I wouldn't be able to last 20 minutes inside there without air, so instead she squeezed me into a translucent face mask with two small breathing holes. With a little concentration, breathe in and out slowly, the time flew by.

Once again, I experienced absolutely no discomfort or even awareness that my ball sac now had 400ml of saline inside. Mistress was very aware and gave her dogs bollocks a gentle squeeze. No roughness this time as I think she was a little pleased that she now had a pet who had adequate sized testicles or at least scrotum. Mistress whizzed out her tape measure to check dimensions, the circumference a whopping 13 inches this time.

Gingerly, Mistress helped me off the couch and we changed into our outside clothes. I had been advised to arrive in loose fitting trousers and that was certainly good advice judging by the room required by my increased sized dogs bollocks, Mistress put on her gorgeous rubber mac and off we went. The inflated ball sac had no impact or distraction on my driving and we arrived safely at the supermarket, where Maggie informed me that we were shopping for ginger - Ah yes, and every time she said 'ginger' I was to massage my swollen balls. She has a wicked sense of humour!

I was amazed at the number of times Maggie worked ginger into the conversation; when I was asking an assistant for help; when she was sizing up the various roots: other times it was just dropped in during a lull, which made our post shop coffee stop most interesting.

Maggie seemed pleased that I managed to carry coffee to her table without any spillage, she said I deserved reward and she would stroke my nose later, but for now her lucky dog was allowed one biscuit!. Actually it was interesting because of the light relaxed conversation and the remarkable Mistress I was with. Back at chambers I was allowed to take a photo of Mistress and her ginger - ah more ball massaging for me.

I had read on various web sites about where the ginger was going and the warming effect it would have once inserted; a process referred to as ’figging’ I believe. So I was a little apprehensive about this one. It was going to happen because Mistress told me it was necessary for the annual worming of her pet, but would I be able to withstand the bum warming?

Mistress sat on my back with knife and tray, peeling the outer layers from the ginger root, shaping the root for my bum size and fixing a rope round it for safer extraction. It was difficult to massage my balls whilst kneeling on all fours with Mistress sat on my back, but Maggie still kept mentioning 'ginger'.

I'm sure Mistress makes up these remedies just to give enjoyment to her dog, as she insisted I would receive six strokes of the senior cane, which in turn would cause my bum to clench on the ginger, which in turn would help the warming and worming process. At least I was allowed to keep my rubber shorts on for the duration of my caning.

And so to bed, or at least attached to the bondage bed with shackles. After all this excitement and pleasure she had given her pet, Maggie thought it was high time that her pet should give her pleasure. Spreadeagled it was easy for Mistress to mount my face, when she said that she would stroke my nose I never thought that she would do it with her red latex panties. Maggie lowered herself onto my mouth, nose, chin and facing forward, facing backwards and any way, Maggie ground away. I was left having some remarkable views of a remarkable Mistress and hearing some remarkable sounds as Maggie used her dog in some unusual ways. I certainly ended up with one helluva shiny wet nose.

This is the face of one happy and contented dog, pleased that I could give my Mistress some pleasure in exchange for all her hard work invested in my training. As for doggy’s pleasure, it was all over in a couple of shakes.

Did I endure the ginger?
Yes, the sensation was warm but not excruciating like I had feared. The cane made a warmer impact but that was supposed to happen.

Did the tourniquet safeguard my cock from inflation?
Partially. Once removed over the next few days as the saline dissipated, some of it moved up the cock and I received a very pleasant puffy, expanded and heavier cock to play with.

How long to dissipate?
Probably four to five days, but I love the feeling it leaves of expanded ball sac and heavier penis.

Are the inflation figures likely to increase in 2016?
Yes in the flick of a dogs tail and without question, but then that is not my decision to make as Mistress Maggie owns the real estate down there.