Big Red, Big One, Big Ride

As occasionally happens to commemorate special occasions, Mistress Maggie had planned something special, and we would enjoy a day out in Blackpool. I had finally and irreparably been declared 'old' by the state, having reached my 65th year and one of the last pensioners to receive my pension at sixty five. We were to take a thrill ride on the Big One, enjoy the spectacular views over the bay for about two seconds before plunging almost to death down that first, terrifying and very steep drop, take in some of the local attractions, perhaps another ride or two and end with a feast and perhaps, if I was lucky, a celebratory cake. It certainly sounded a wonderful way to celebrate with a day out with two friends.

It sounds idyllic so far, but those of you who know my Mistress or have followed this diary know that her slaves enjoyment could not possibly be restricted to these 'normal' pastimes. The day started almost normally. I stripped off and stood in front of my owner, as naked as the day I was born and set about some serious boot worship. Mistress said she had promised to whip me and whip me she would, meanwhile I was to continue with my boot worship while she raised and wielded her floggers' many tails. I couldn't recall having done anything to warrant such an onslaught but knew to accept a reddened arse without complaints because Maggie is in charge and owns the property rights.

It turns out that I had attempted to help others join my Mistress in slavery (part of my promise to my Mistress), by directing a gentleman into Maggie's tender care without realising he was across the North Sea and not readily able to travel. But, apparently he can e-mail and after what must have been a friendly exchange with Maggie she had promised him that I would receive a good thrashing for my stupidity. That is why I was now ass up infront of Mistress feeling her whip. I shall not dwell on the trials and tribulations of helping lost souls . . .

The last time I came along for my session, Maggie had successfully fitted my new butt plug, Big Red, but it had slipped out again very soon after. Maggie said that Big Red needed more help at becoming properly seated in my arsehole and would be taking the trip to Blackpool inside me. I was fitted with a very tight belt and crotch strap that would hopefully keep Big Red in place for the big rides later on. With the straps dangling Mistress led me to the White Room, where I was introduced to the newly acquired medical couch that Mistress had so proudly taken delivery of only a few days before.

Reclining and strapped down on the new couch I was  given a demonstration of a few of its magical abilities. Three buttons and electric motors everywhere, but despite all the bells and whistles I could detect a note of sadness in Mistresses voice towards the old couch that had served her well over the previous five years. But onwards and upwards and I had the first ride of the day. Click - tilt backwards click, forwards. Click - up and down. Click - recline. It was certainly versatile and would help my owner to position her slaves accurately for whatever activities were to happen but I must admit, I too had a tinge of nostalgia for the old faithful black and white couch, ousted by the all singing all dancing grey interloper. I thought for a moment this may be a sign of things to come for this old, well worn but faithful slave. Anyway, the leather crotch strap was tightened and Big Red held firm. We shouldn't have any trouble with its escape.

All was well during the drive to our destination. Big Red stayed under control, my outer casuals hiding the fact I had a huge plug securely strapped in place. That didn't last long. The next 'drive' was oh so very different; very hilly, the car and passengers all over the place, very tight corners, speeds that would make your hair curl, and all having the effect of giving Big Red a thrilling ride round my bum hole until I was finally able to get my feet back on firm ground.

As we disembarked our carriages I could feel movement down below and had to rush or rather waddle to the nearest toilets, before my Big Red friend made its way down my trouser leg and smiled at some innocent passer by. With all the roller coasting movement on the Big One, the centre strap had moved sufficiently to allow Big Red to escape. Well it had taken a hair raising, death defying ride to dislodge the butt plug and I was reasonably satisfied that my bum could accommodate BR in 'normal' circumstances.

Flushed with adrenalin from the Big One ride, I agreed to my owners suggestion that a sail in Valhalla was an excellent 'follow up' adventure. Mind you, I agree to everything my Mistress suggests; that is just the way of the world. Nor had she forgotten to bring along her retractable whip for punishing anyone who fails to comply. Signs do warn you that you may get wet, so not being dressed in our latex today we all invested in plastic ponchos. What a rip off, two quid for a large plastic bag. I did my best to get into mine, it makes a change from Mistress inserting me in one, although certainly not as rewarding or for that matter as water tight!

Off we sailed taking in some very hot, windy and wet moments as the ride progressed. All was almost dry until the first major waterfall. I was sat with Maggie and the deluge cascaded over both our plastic covered heads. Maggie still dry, me very wet. That didn't last long either. By the end of the ride we were all very wet indeed, although despite John being in the front seat, he came out the dryest. It was a good job it was a warm day as we all dried quickly as we spun through the air on the Space Ships ride!

Anyway, by this time, I was in need of a drink and Mistress had that covered too. I must have mentioned that Mistress is meticulous in her planning? Well, diving into her trusty handbag, which by now was rather damp having been waterlogged on Valhalla, she brought out a drinking cup. Judging by the pale golden hue of the contents, it was either diluted orange or something far more tasty. I sipped slowly and wondered what our fellow travellers would have made of three friends casually enjoying themselves with one drinking his owners pee whilst wearing my slave collar. The collar had already attracted a few surreptitious glances but I suspect the pee pot went unnoticed.

All I know was, on this very warm day, it was cool, very refreshing and tasting of my Mistress. I was at that stage very happy and very relaxed. On the way back to Chambers, we stopped at a chippy and ate a hearty plate of fish, chips mushy peas etc, chatted away and by then I was somewhat relieved that BR had escaped. I was still aware of the tight harness under my civilian clothes, the crotch strap was a little looser but nevertheless acted as a constant reminder as to who owned me.

Back in The Clinic there were two final surprises that Mistress had planned for her slave. The first was birthday candles to celebrate the special day. If I am honest, I didn't expect my balls to be the cake but there again, Mistress always has a flair for the unusual.

I received my second ride on the electric gynae chair, accompanied by a suitable amount of aromas to help ease any pain as seven or eight needles were inserted in my 'cake'. Thank goodness it wasn't one for each year! Maggie had already tightened my cock and balls to what I assumed was the bondage board, her cord ties keeping my throbbing organ securely where she wanted it. Not too tight but enough to keep it on the straight and narrow. I could feel some other strange sensations but couldn't see what was happening, but I did hear the click click of a lighter and tensed as I got a whiff of fresh candle wax, burning fresh candle wax!

I thought now might be a good time to beg for more medicine, to take more deep breaths of aroma and to try to keep very still. There is only so long that you can fend off the inevitable and eventually I was feeling the hot wax dribbling across my hot balls. Mistress kept me moaning for several minutes and was really enjoying the celebrations. Blowing out the candles she commented on how she was happy to be burning my balls, but making them burn low enough to set light to her plastic equipment was taking things a bit too far.

Laying flat and with little visibility of my burning cake other than the lashing flames, I was curious how Mistress had managed to attach the candles without me feeling any discomfort. It turns out she had specially shaped each candle base so that it would fit into the end of the medical grade needles. I told you, Mistress thinks of everything. A water bucket had also been strategically placed near the burning candles 'just in case'.

Speaking of forward planning, I see from the photos that The bondage board had been discreetly covered in surgical tape just where any wax run off may have spilled, so as to minimise damage to its surface. I wish she had done that with my cock and balls!

And so to the second surprise. A second ride of the day on another big one. Mistress donned her larger dildo and proceeded to mount her slave with the biggest thing I have ever had stuffed up my bum. The motors were put into operation; click - tilt, click up, click down went the chair, until Maggie had the right angle of attack. Finally the big one slid home providing her slave with yet another wild and thrilling pleasure trip.

Removing her large used dildo, Mistress announced that she needed the toilet and instructed me to await her return. Not difficult as I was strapped and shackled to the new chair, but not for long. On her return I was instructed onto my knees and use my tongue to make sure her arsehole was clean. More use of the electric motors as Mistress knelt on the chair to produce a no nonsense angle for her arse licking slave, and even though I say so myself, I did a really good job and enjoyed the task immensely. Perhaps there is a use for this older model slave in this new world after all?

I would like to thank both Mistress Maggie and her husband, John, for their kindness in taking me out for one helluva memorable birthday present.