Thursday 27 October 2016

Bucking Bronco

‘Your rubber clad Mistress will be teaching you many ways of using leather’, is what I had been advised in my pre-session mail.

The moment Mistress Maggie opened the Chambers’ front door, the first part of her calling notice was wonderfully evident and had me enchanted once again. Mistress had decided on the remarkable catsuit and corset combination that both accentuated her stunning figure yet rendered her completely untouchable. However, the tactile nature of the wonderful material was made available for the shortest of moments as Mistress paused at the top of the stairs to allow her slave to move my hands across her latex covered rear. I have fought this urge every time I have followed that stunning sculptured derrière and now Mistress was treating her slave to another unexpected delight.

I was happy as we entered the Chambers. I was happy when Mistress told me go to the bathroom, to strip naked and return wearing only my slave collar. I have no inhibitions in front of my owner and complied immediately. I was happy when Mistress selected an appropriate rubber hood for her slave, then took a length of red rope and bound my wrists securely in front; was happy when Mistress gagged me and instructed me to lean against the wall, legs apart, forehead on my tied arms. I was happy when Mistress softly whipped my buttocks, using one of her many floggers to begin teaching me the many ways she uses her leather.

The whipping lasted for some considerable time, Mistress changing her whip to give her slave a taste of their many different leathery sounds and sensations, the strokes getting steadily harder. But for the moment that rhythmic swish crack was gently warming my arse cheeks and an occasional flick of its tails perfectly aimed between my legs to lightly strike my testicles.

Altogether, I was learning that Maggie had quite a few leather whips that I had never encountered and could wield each one in a way that equalled its weight. My back and rump were receiving their share of her delivery in equal measure. I felt happy when Mistress put her arms around her slave and moved her rubber glove across the marks she was making. I was even moderately happy when Mistress upped the anti and had me take a severe leather whip to increase my leather experience, Mistress continued to take short blasts with the heavy flogger until I became strained with the exertion, holding my stance to please my Mistress was becoming difficult and my legs were trembling.

Then I got really concerned as, alongside my trembling leg, I saw the business end of a red leather bull whip as it snaked across the floor. Mistress had spotted that I was starting to sag but offered no respite, instead she suggested I stand facing her, back against the wall until I couldn’t retreat any further. A few light range finders with the whip and then excruciating pain as she found exactly the right swing, range and angles to land the whip first on one nipple then the other, I must have taken around a dozen of these. Be advised, that bullwhip really does sting, but even if I had somewhere to hide I was determined to take the whip because Mistress wanted me to. This slave can now humbly say that I am no virgin when it comes to taking a proper prolonged flogging.

Maggie declared that now I’d had my fun and she had invested considerable effort for her slave, she needed to be pampered with pleasurable attentions. We adjourned to the Clinic and there was no more leather for a while. I was to receive the privilege once again of giving my Mistress a pedicure. I love being allowed to perform this service and I know Mistress appreciates the feeling of softness after my ministrations. Maggie reclined and relaxed on the couch and the only leather content was me gently removing her leather footwear. I must say I was mesmerised by Mistress relaxing there, the tight latex still covering her body barely inches from my face. As I said, so beautiful yet so perfectly protected, not that Mistress needs protection from her slave. I am a red blooded male but first and foremost I am my Mistresses trained rubber slave; I may gaze lovingly but DON'T touch unless instructed otherwise. So I set about filing first one foot then the other, asking occasionally if Mistress was satisfied with the progress.

Mistress sounded like she purred when she said she enjoyed my efforts, each smoothed foot then needed to be kissed and licked just to be sure, and finally gently soothed with foot lotion, but - ‘not between the toes slave’. This slave also discovered a magical spot on one of her feet which when touched sent Maggie off into involuntary fits of laughter. Mistresses leather ankle boots were carefully replaced and our sojourn in the Clinic had come to an end. Reminder to ask Mistress for new emery boards if she allows me future pedicure privileges.

We have been considering that I should receive a guiche piercing and it was my turn to jump up on the couch where Mistress took a few measurements, drew a line where she wished the jewellery to sit and took a photo to show the exact location when we attend for the piercing. Perhaps, next time you may be treated to a viewing?

Back in the Playroom, Maggie helped me into my heavy black rubber suit. A new pair of zipped gloves had arrived for me and I had chance to try them on with my suit this time; a good plan and they fitted perfectly and zipped up easily. One tight fitting layer was not enough for Maggie and I was about to receive a second lesson in the use of leather. She brought down the very heavy leather bondage suit from its resting place on the cell door and feet first I was squeezed inside it. Once my arms were secure inside the internal arm sheaths there was little I could do to help incarcerate myself, relying on my Mistress to pull it over my shoulders and zip me in. My feet were left unrestrained, ‘so you can shuffle around when instructed slave’.

Even without the laces fully cinched in and tightened, it is heavy, hot and restrictive inside the double layers of the leather sleep-sack, and made all the more tighter by liberal use of stout leather straps, these were hoisted tight producing a very satisfactory, safe and immovable status for this slave to find myself in. I was briefly tethered in a standing position in a way I could gently sway like a skittle without toppling.

My hood was exchanged for an unusual looking gas mask and I was given instruction. I was to shuffle forward to the repositioned horse where Maggie guided me into a bending position along it. The horse rocked and creaked as it took my considerable weight along its back. My situation became clearer as Mistress said she wanted to explore features and benefits of the leather bondage sack that had not been previously explored. It seemed that something unusual and exciting was afoot as Mistress placed her hand over the gasmask filter and I received the first of many strong inhalations of aromas.

Strange I thought, as Mistress normally uses her medicine for anal relaxation in preparation for mounting her slave, but trussed up inside this secure leather seemed an odd way to access my backside. Maggie clarified exactly what she was going to do next. ‘Right slave, now I have you where I want you I wish to find out whether this rear zip serves any useful function, today I will be fucking your ass while you remain incarcerated in the bag’.

The leather bondage bag has unseen treasures and one of them is the rear zip that Maggie mentioned. It was slowly forced up exposing my severely confined arse to a cooler draft, same with my catsuit. This looked like another fun situation Maggie had engineered for her slave. I, of course had no say in the matter nor could I move inside the tight leather as Mistress thoroughly lubed up my arse, attached her strap on and moved into position. Another sight of Maggie’s hand over my filter and we were off on the ride of our lives. The aromas and lube had worked their magic as the dildo found its mark. I think Mistress was delighted and really started humping my leather covered rear, helped by encouraging slaps across my leather rear.

The horse was going well, it was rocking with the ride and making galloping sounds now. Maggie was definitely more than a little excited by her success with her new found access and her thrusting increased, I moaned and was delighted my Mistress was once more taking me this way and also appearing to be having a wonderful time.

. . . CRACK . . . The extra effort Maggie was putting into my arse was transmitted to the horse and I could literally feel the earth move for me and Maggie. Naturally Mistress stopped. ‘What was that slave?’. I mumbled through the gas mask that I thought it was a front leg or maybe this horse really was a bucking bronco! Maggie dismounted, investigated and agreed we should play safe and ease myself off the horse. At first I moved slowly as I was a little unsteady from both the knee trembling and the aroma, but when there was a further loud creak from the horse I have never moved so fast and stood upright instantly in my leather cocoon.

In went the butt plug and I was instructed to hobble to the cage where I was firmly strapped to the bars for Mistress to reveal a further secret of the leather bag. It’s nipple flaps were ripped away to be replaced with biting clamps, the clamps would not normally hurt too bad, but were being fixed in the same places where Maggie's earlier ministrations with her bullwhip had already bitten. Is there no end to the secrets of this Black Magic suit? My breathing became severely restricted by Mistresses choice of hood, having only a series of narrow tubes to take in air, and this is how I was left. My nipples hurt, but through the mask perforations, I could catch glimpses of my stunning owner as she went about making her playroom neat and tidy, giving her pathetic slave an occasional passing tweak of the pegs and a radiant, lovely smile. 

To conclude the session I was finally released from the leather and told to take a seat on the awaiting bondage chair. I was in desperate need of a drink and on queue, Mistress set up my feeding station. Nothing so simple as a nice tube attached to Mistress, I had to be more ingenious to receive my liquid refreshment.

I was secured, and with the pinwheel adjusted on my posture collar, my chin was pointing skywards. A strange glass dropper arrangement was suspended just over my head, its contents a familiar light amber colour. The idea was, that with a little effort I would be able to catch the droplets of nectar and satisfy my thirst. 'How about a little blindfold to make life more interesting slave?'

I must admit to being a little mischievous, as I’d worked out that by rocking the chair I could get my mouth in the ideal position to catch most of my drink without taking punishment from the nasty chin spike. I could hear the concern in Maggie's voice as she thought I was going to tip the chair over backwards, reminding me that ‘there aren't any supporting chains this time’. No doubt when Mistress reads my blog she may smile at my ingenuity at rocking the chair, but I will ultimately get into trouble for my mischief.

I was soaked by the time I arrived at the ideal position and it was a good job that Mistress had a full bladder, as quite a lot of pee ended up in my hair, down my back, trickling down the inside of my suit, in fact all over me and I loved every minute of every drop. The plastic bag that Mistress fastened me in for the final act, steamed up quickly with both my breath and the warm pee residues, leading to a particularly sultry and lengthy breathplay scene.

At last Mistress investigated the horse and the relief in her voice was audible when she declared that the securing nuts holding the legs had worked loose; hardly surprising after fifteen years of hard use and its most recent pummelling. A few turns of the wing nuts once more had the bucking horse less likely to give her a heart attack. We were able to laugh about the situation afterwards as we both imagined the horse collapsing, ending up in a heap and Maggie still firmly reaming my arse with her strap-on.

One thing remains certain, I will always try to endure everything and anything Mistress Maggie asks of me. After all, that is the promise I made when I vowed to be one of my Mistresses loyal followers. I was allowed a wonderfully relaxing bath after our taxing session and I know I have the most caring and thoughtful Mistress that I could ever wish for. Long may she reign.

Friday 7 October 2016

Here's to the Next Five

I have experienced five exceptional years serving my Mistress, Mistress Maggie and now, after 110 excellent sessions, I feel that I am at least a passable slave. Clearly, 'passable' is not good enough and I will continue to strive to become that perfect slave for as long as Mistress is prepared to keep me as her property. I knew Mistress had remembered the anniversary by the words in her mail.  'Mistress is making preparations for a celebration. . .' Similarly, I wanted to say a big thank you to both Mistress and husband John for the five years of a growing friendship and had picked up a nice Merlot on the way to the Chambers.

As always, one hour before my session I sent my confirmatory text. Mistress sprung a surprise and almost wrong footed her slave with her response, by announcing that we were going shopping and to park near the Chambers. I try not to be phased by things my Mistress asks of me and always ensure there’s a tank of fuel just in case. Additional instruction had also been given ‘. . . Arrive with your ball weight in place. . . ‘  This I had done along with a good effort to look smart, wearing my cream latex dress shirt and obligatory slave collar, with my weighted balls tucked tidily inside my pants.

A stunning vision answered the door. Mistress looked just as attractive in her outdoor clothes as she does in her Playroom uniforms; shiny jeans, silk blouse, gladiator sandals and a full application of red lippy. Maggie accepted my gift and I was rewarded with one of her fabulous smiles.

Session 110 began as usual with performing homage to Mistresses footwear, which can become a terribly steamy situation at times. Like today for instance. Mistress insisted that I wear a plastic bag while putting my tongue to work on her gladiator shoes. My slave collar was used to secure my head in the bag, just how Maggie wanted it, and I was told to proceed with worship. I licked as best and as long as I could, busying myself right up to the point where the oxygen ran out and I could lick no more. I could only use my last gasps to beg for air in the hope of being released. Consequently the sandals remained worshipped from afar, but that had to be the cleanest inside of a plastic bag you could imagine.

Up on your knees facing me now slave’ and I was eye to eye with Mistress. The plastic bag was rustling again, then pulled over my head quite tightly and I was captured in a couple of twists of her wrist. Maggie looked at me through the plastic then planted the longest kiss squarely across my mouth, well, a kiss on the plastic across my mouth to be precise. It was a heavenly moment that I hoped would never stop, and I loved how Mistress then laughed at the red smudge across her slaves plastic face, saying ‘That's the lippy gone then!

Whenever shopping, Mistress likes to keep this slave on his toes. No different today and I was soon legs up on the Clinic table having suitable electrodes fitted. First though, my trusty black butt plug was planted in my arsehole. 'A special treat for you today slave', or so Maggie said with that glint in her eye as she placed her cock stopper electrode right on the tip of my cock and to complete the circuit, a sticky pad on my abdomen. With a laugh Mistress remarked about the nasty shock I would feel if her circuitry came into contact with my steel ball weight, but thankfully and probably best for all concerned, she decided not to have her slave leaping about with the shopping basket and drawing any more attention to himself. Instead, a condom was used to secure the cock stopper and rolled down the full length of Maggie’s property.

I knew where this was going and it would certainly be special. The power source would be attached to my belt and Mistress would carry the remote - Hmmm! Time for a quick test then. Five taps of the remote provided a just about bearable pulse through my cock; six had me visibly wincing and would affect my gait if applied during the shopping trip; seven may be a treat for Mistress but more likely a dreaded ordeal for her slave. Maggie also went through a few of the available programs, just to remind her slave what to expect if I displeased her.

Mistress re-applied her lipstick and was ready for shopping, my primary duty to carefully chauffeur my Mistress on her trip and, of course, during our shop, provide amusement as she stroked the remote with her thumb. We went shoe shopping first, trying on several pairs. I fetched and carried and kept Maggie’s handbag safe while she tried them on and made her choice. At last I had permission to kiss my Mistresses new shoes without needing to wear a plastic bag. One kiss was all I could give being in a well known supermarket, but I believe it was received as a symbolic gesture of her slaves devotion. However, I did enjoy the thrill of openly worshipping my Mistress, even if it was only for the briefest of moments. Nobody cared, nobody even noticed, apart from me and my Mistress and the shoe purchase was in the bag.

I followed Mistress towards the food section, stopping for a moment for Maggie to activate the power box on my belt. But oops, somehow I must have dislodged something as . . . nothing. . . when tested. ‘Go to the loo slave. Go and reconnect yourself’. Fortunately the problem was quickly put to rights and I was back alongside having my Power box activated again. Four quick taps on her remote and a look at my grimacing face confirmed to Maggie that her slave was switched on.

A shopping list had been prepared and my job was to bring back all items on it: Cucumber, K-Y jelly or similar, condoms and a pack of ice cubes. The list came with strict instructions; I must not to use the self checkout lanes and I must present my wares to a real life assistant. It was difficult to concentrate with the electrics on five clicks, not knowing when Mistress would have a little remote fun with one more agonizing movement of her thumb. I persevered and as you can see, no K-Y. I asked the pharmacist but was advised. ‘You’re the second one to ask. We are out of stock. Sorry’. I braced myself for the jolt as I was taking too long. I could see Mistress relaxing just through the checkouts, smiling that delightfully innocent smile as I searched and found an alternative, her thumb hovering over her remote, but thankfully nothing more than a sinister 'hover'.

The throbbing in my cock continued as I hurried for the bag of ice cubes. I didn't like the thought of where the cubes could end up and chose the smallest bag I could find. Even so, it was enough to freeze your balls off and then some.

Going through the checkout, I knew I was in range of having a twitchy thumb setting off a twitching embarrassment. I was also very conscious of curious onlookers spotting my items as they moved along the conveyor. The lady was paid and I gave her my thanks as I packed my shopping into the red lipstick stained suffocation bag. Mistress just sat watching, smiling and seductively massaging her remote. It was a relief as we left and Maggie turned off the power pack on my belt for the short drive home.

Back in Chambers I heard the ominous chink of ice being poured into Mistresses steel bucket. A cold shiver passed through my balls and bum. I feared the worst because a lot of ice was readied, but then, as always, Mistress pulled another surprise. Two small bottles of white wine appeared, plus a couple of flutes and she sank them both into the ice bucket to cool as she helped me out of my outdoor clothes and into more appropriate indoor red latex ones. I was stood to attention as Maggie reclined on her bean bag and asked me to pour two glasses of wine. We toasted the first five years of my exceptional journey, and I spent a delightful 15 minutes finger feeding olives to my Mistress, chatting, sipping the celebratory wine and me attempting to become that 'perfect' slave. It is extremely difficult holding oiled olives in rubber gloves, yet possible because Mistress has trained me well: 'less haste more attention' resulted in very few mishaps. With a risk of repeating myself, there is nothing quite so stimulating or arousing as watching your Mistress casually relax and feeding her just as my Queen should be fed.

The bean bag was moved out of Chambers to make way for the Bondage Chair, which needed to be placed in a precise position next to the bed. I do like that secure, snug feeling of the leather corset that was strapped tight on top of my latex, then the Lithuanian hooded gas mask with restraining collar, and finally chained to maximum tightness to the chair, probably tighter than any previous chaining. I love the secure feeling this situation engenders. I could also delight in the fact that Mistress said I looked wonderful dressed like this.

Maggie double checked I was secure, then began pivoting the chair and easing it backwards until it was firmly supported by chains, which miraculously somehow had appeared between chair and overhead gantry. I had no worries as I trust Mistress implicitly, although I am still amazed that such a fine, slender figure could take the weight of this lump like slave and his bondage. And there I securely stayed, leaning back in the throne, my cock, balls and butt plug exposed by dextrous manipulation of the suits three way zip, all for my Mistresses further amusement. The clover clamps on my nipples played with my upper body sensations as my Mistress went on to play with and create havoc with my lower body parts.

The hole in the chair seat made for easy retrieval of the butt plug. Out it came and for one moment I thought I saw the cucumber pass in front of my gas-masked  eyes making its way to a new growing plot, but to my relief, I think, Maggie eased a rather large electric dildo in my now spare hole. It was at this point that the frailties of my body started to overtake the huge desires of the slave.

Because I am tall, my head was not getting support from the high backed chair and my neck was starting to really tense with the strain. This has an effect on all the other senses. The rasping, windy sounds of the Lithuanian mask changed into the more urgent sounds of a slave starting to be stressed. Mistress knows her property and after asking and confirming that I was having problems, eased me back to an upright position and removed the mask. I began to recover but Mistress knows when enough is enough for her slave and chose to release me. We sat and talked amongst other topics, about the possible need for a neck support in future similar situations.

Oh I do wish I was physically better equipped for my Mistress, but unlike Mistress Maggie who appears to be younger every time we meet, the inevitable onslaught of age does take a slight toll on this, otherwise very willing slave and I do love my sessions with my perfect Mistress.