Nippling Day

Perhaps today will go down in history as the start of a new tradition. Mistress Maggie had accumulated quite a few negative comments about the recent poor performance of my nipples, and today she would be pulling out all the stops to rectify the matter. In fact, when I had completed my normal homage to the immaculate white platform boots that covered her legs, kneeling to attention with arms behind awaiting my slave orders, Mistress presented me with a written notice of her intentions.

There was a drawback to that however, as without my glasses I had no chance of reading the notice and had to ask Mistress to narrate its contents. Suffice is to say it pointed out, in particular, the shortcomings that were evident during our last session, while the fact that I had to beg for the recitation only added to my owners displeasure.

Mistress took a little time deciding which of my latex suits I should wear for her. I have previously mentioned that I’d obtained a thinner, tighter catsuit, but Mistress had doubts about the zip openings being large enough to insert her strap-on, or even my trusty butt plug from some angles. Only one way to check the dimensions, squeeze me in and try it out. Unfortunately it’s impossible for me to get into the catsuit on my own, but I am fortunate that Maggie likes to help dress me in latex, her guiding and smoothing hands feel simply delightful and she soon had me encased in its smooth black skin.

And so Nippling Day started. First of all I was ordered to place the low bench in centre stage of the Playroom and lie down on it, making sure I had my head nice and comfortable on the latex pillow provided. It all sounds so gentile and refined, but really it was just lining up my body for Act 1.

Mistress said that because she wanted a good hard cock for her play I wouldn’t be receiving any poppers infusions, yet in order to make my nipples meet her desired standards some robust speed training was needed, and as it was likely to be uncomfortable I would have to be subdued by other methods. Initial disappointment soon gave way to a deep smile as Maggie straddled my face in her clear latex clad tights and her bottom descended onto my face. It may have subdued my breathing and repeat performances made me positively breathless, but it certainly didn't subdue other parts. Top that with a change of orientation and Maggie’s marvellous chest came into very close proximity with my hooded face, then moving in closer my features disappeared into her cleavage. That breathtaking smothering also did nothing to subdue those parts away from my nose and mouth.

The nipple zips opened and quite a lot of talc was rubbed onto each nipple. We discovered that the nipple zips on the new suit were slightly narrower than we are used to, making the application of the white little bastards Maggie had chosen, quite awkward. It took three goes to get the nipples exposed and nipped properly, worse for my nipples because with each try Maggie grabbed them and pinched them before clamping them between the nippers teeth. Once instated I wore them for a while as Maggie kindly rested her latex bottom on my face to distract me from the pain. By the time Maggie decided to knock my nipple training up a notch, my nipples were already feeling somewhat abused and sore and when the clover clamps were successfully attached I was starting to feel quite sorry for my predicament!

Now I was un-roped and standing up with the clover clamps dangling, my disappointing nipples felt like they were being really tested. I thought Maggie was being most mischievous when she suggested I clean up my dribbles from the upholstered bench, the nippling I had received had worked up a sweat which had managed to seep out through my crotch zip. I had to scrub it thoroughly and scrub it repeatedly while Maggie began acclimatising my nipples to carrying weights. The first two small ones were tolerable but she kept gradually adding more, in the meantime I was to continue scrubbing . . . ‘Come on slave. Scrub harder!’. . . scrub, scrub, scrub, all the time the bloody weights were swinging away on my nipples and worse, I had to really concentrate to make sure they didn't drop off again (clamps not nipples). Finally the upholstery was deemed clean enough and I was instructed to put the bench back where it belonged.

For a brief moment I thought I was about to receive a little kindness. Mistress suggested I could rest the weights on the high horse, letting it take their weight. Jumping at the opportunity was a definite no no, that would have been far too painful a stunt to perform. Slow and careful was a much better option, and even then I managed to accidentally knock them against the horse, but once the weights were resting, oh what a relief. I was allowed to rest for a few minutes before Maggie latched a lead on my collar and instructed me to stand up straight and take a walk with her. A couple of circuits round the playroom following my Mistress on a close leash then told to rest the weights again, and so it went on. Rest them, stand up again and the pain was worse after the rest.

I am certain my owner knew that would happen!

Act 2 started well, or at least I thought so. Out came the ‘serving’ tray that I had proudly worn last time I served Mistresses friends. Unfortunately, this time, my owner had decided that my nipples would form an integral part of this scene and obviously her serving tray should be supported from my nipple chain, not loosely either. Maggie adjusted the chains so that when I stood up straight the chains pulled on the nipples and any extra weight that Maggie laughingly applied just added pain onto my existing discomfort. I am certain there was real joy in her voice as she sent me off to the bathroom to refill her drinking glass 'And mind you don't damage any more of my furniture’. I took it slowly making steady progress through the doorways and returned very carefully clutching the glass of water. I presented it to my Mistress only to be reprimanded. 'Slave, what is the tray for?' Sometimes I can't do anything right.

'Fetch the weights from the White Room, slave’. Off I trotted, finding two sets of weights on the windowsill I decided to take both back because if I only took one set it was bound to be the wrong one. It was excruciating but I placed both sets on the tray for the journey back to the Playroom. With hindsight, possibly one set may have been better for my nipples as with that mischievous laugh Mistress hung both pairs from the tray chains and had me move round to get used to the pressure of the heavier weights. 'Well you must have wanted all the weights as you brought them.'

Act 3 was to be played out in the Clinic. Strapped down so securely so as to make movement and resistance impossible, Mistress said she was going to re-apply the clamps that had so ignominiously fallen off last time and which then became the prime mover for this nipple torture day. First of all though we tested out the appropriateness of the rear zip. We needn't have been concerned, when opened to its maximum the zip allowed easy insertion of my trusty plug. I think we were both pleased and it does mean my owner has two black costume options for me; heavy weight or lighter and tighter.

Of course, I couldn't see the nipple clamps being used but could certainly feel their application onto my already sensitive little buds. Each one was being tightened in turn and then some fiddling; a sensation as if something was being attached and I had the uneasy feeling that the 'something' were wires. Never mind, I had other more pulling demands to concentrate on as I felt other sensations happening below. Mistress was stretching my ball sac and then applying some tight clamp. With that wicked laugh I could feel my balls being pulled away from my body and becoming a lot tighter. Despite all the other excitement of Act 3 this stretching was superb, and when additional weight was added to the ball stretching it was very pleasurable to say the least; another comment I may have been wiser not to include in the blog!

As I lay there taking in the rubber smell from the anaesthetic mask that Maggie had quietly applied, I could hear Mistress relieving herself in the plastic jug, I heard the contents being poured out and anticipated I may be drip fed her nectar through my mask and tube, as my owner frequently supplies such treats. However, nothing so thirst quenching today, her liquids had been dispensed into a bubble bottle and I was left burbling away as the electrics were pulsing away.

Yes, I can confirm that Mistresses wooden clamps held really firm, the nipple fiddling was in fact wires and that my sensitive nipples were subjected to a good prolonged jolt of pulsing electrical stimulation, a sensation that I could only have imagined without Maggie’s nipple stretching intervention. Meanwhile my balls were being increasingly stretched at the other end. As Mistress announced that she was switching her estim up to number 9, Act 3 had a big spurt of drama, I just couldn’t control myself any longer, embarrassing myself by cumming there and then. Another strange phenomena occurred at level 9, with my balls now emptied one of them managed to escape the clutches of the stretcher, earning me the name of ‘One Ball Jo’.

There was one more act to perform before the curtain finally came down. After I had been cleaned up and de-wired Mistress Maggie wanted some of her own fun and knelt in the recently vacated spot on the couch with her wonderful butt right in front of my eyes, I was directed towards it and told to clean her little bud, and clean and lick I did. Perhaps the detail to the Nippling Day finale is better left untold. But I can say that I attempt a very good job of arse licking and I think Maggie was actually enjoying this end to another exciting session and I have to say, my Mistress has the most perfect bottom that I have ever had the pleasure to lick.

Perhaps the last Friday in October will go down in the calendar as the day for sorting out errant nipples, perhaps we should call it Nippling Day? I will let you know if Friday 26th October 2018 is designated for a repeat performance of that ancient tradition of Nippling a slave, providing my owner hasn't fired her slave by then.