Sesquicentennial - Better and Better

When I first had the privilege of attending Mistress Maggie some six and a bit years ago I had no inkling of the fantastic heights that she would take me to and I really didn't think I would be fortunate to reach 150 sessions. After a few dozen or so (if I was lucky) I anticipated Mistress would lose interest in her tall, somewhat overweight slave. Initially I had expressed an interest in rubber bondage and perhaps a little anal play, other than that I really was naive as to what delights an exceptionally good Mistress could introduce me to. Yet here we are, celebrating this milestone in style with a lot of rubber, a lot of anal play, quite a few shocks from the electrics including the bonus of an electrifying sound deeply embedded where good sounds should be, deep inside and largely out of sight. I have travelled a long way and I hope and suspect Mistress has many more highways and byways to guide us down.

Stepping swiftly through the obligatory preliminaries; the worship was slow and sensuous and a thrill I have described in great detail in many of my earlier blogs, on with my heavy weight latex catsuit and ushered into the Clinic where I was told to kneel with my face through the opening at the back of the chair. That opening conveniently accommodated the anaesthetic mask that was strapped to my head, ensuring I breath in any aromatic medicine my gloved rubber nurse may deem necessary.

Mistress declared that she had lost something, and as I had been fortunate enough to attend the previous week she was wondering if I had secreted the item somewhere on or in my person. She had looked everywhere in the intervening week, so the only logical conclusion was that her slave must have hidden the item in one of my frequent mischievous moments.

Oiled and lubed, Mistress was only millimetres away from being able to insert her rubber hand in my back passage, but my muscles just wouldn't quite relax to allow her hand inside to do a full reconnaissance of where the missing item may be hiding. Nope, I am just not quite stretched for a fisting yet, but undeterred Mistress inserted an inflated butt bung to aid the stretching and said that as the item was still missing we shall persist in the future until such a time as she can have a proper rummage. I did fleetingly think that perhaps Mistress wants her slave to be a proper puppet and wondered what Sooty and Sweep felt like with their owners hand up their bums.

It won't be too long before I can accept Mistresses hand fully up my backside, so watch this space! A few more breaths of the aromas. . . maybe more relaxation on my part. . . perhaps a little more lube? Who knows, but I can feel that day coming shortly.

Of course the result of all the stretching and lube was that when Mistress inserted my butt plug it went in so easily I hardly noticed its presence. So much so that it dropped right out again. A clear and recognisable sign that the new butt plug that I once considered huge is now 'ordinary’. It fills the cavity but with little stretching required.

Anyway, after a nervous titter from me and an ordinary titter from Maggie the solution was obvious, zip it away inside my thick latex catsuit and forget it for the rest of the session. That worked. The plug stayed put in its secure, dark and rubbery location.

It was a relatively easy operation to fit me inside the thick white latex body bag, although care was required to make sure my arms slid into the internal pockets and I was lying comfortably in the middle of the bag, so when Mistress finally zipped and strapped me inside I was in the best possible position, and more importantly, prepared for a lengthy session of rubber restriction and fun.

An essay in style and beauty

A little judicious fiddling with the crotch zip of the bag and a little harder fiddling with the zippers on my catsuit underneath made it possible for Mistress to bring out my cock and balls. From inside the double hood which Maggie had chosen for me to wear, I occasionally got the faintest of glimpses of my beautiful Mistress through the eye perforations, but there was nothing I could have done, even if I wanted to, to prevent her firstly playing with my exposed genitals then re-covering them in a tight black latex sheath. I must say I  love being in such a totally rubberised position for my Mistress and although I can't move much, my role is to lay as still as possible so Maggie can perform her magic. I know she enjoys her session more when her plans are not interrupted by unruly or wimpish slaves. I also get the distinct impression that Mistress also likes the situation of a totally restrained rubberised plaything.

Interspersed with the intricate work of latexing my cock and balls, Mistress allowed me more puffs of the rather pleasant aromas that she knows I like. We have tried out a few and know which brands do a reliable job of delivering the appropriate sensations. Happy with the batch used today I could easily relax and allow Maggie the freedom to finally get the sheaths on without any problems.

I don't think I mentioned how stunning Mistress looked when she ushered me into the Chambers: a wonderful essay in the Beauty of The Dominatrix. I could have stayed rubbered up in her presence for hours. Come to think of it I would stay there for as long as my Mistress wished as there is no possibility for escape.

Those who regularly follow my blog will realise that Mistress doesn't allow her slaves to remain in the state of Nirvana for too long, as that could mean far too much peace, tranquillity and enjoyment for her subject, whose sole purpose after all is to please my owner an not myself. I think I arrived in that mythical state momentarily before Mistress sought to stretch my horizons. Well actually, she wanted to stretch my balls - quite a lot.

I have never been formally introduced to Maggie’s gleaming piece of ball stretching equipment, and this picture is the first visible reference to associate with what was initially a most pleasant experience as Maggie attached its mountings between cock and scrotum.

At this point I was relaxed, happy, comfortable and pleasantly warm. I was being sorted out by the best possible Mistress a slave could want and I do believe I was closer to that idyllic transcendental state. A turn of the screw, another whiff of aroma, some beautiful soothing words from Mistress followed by a few more turns of the screw had me returning to reality.

That familiar ache in the balls started to creep in as they began to lose proximity to my cock, but still there was nothing I would wish to do to alter the situation. Of course there was something I could do to help Mistress in the next stage and did so by holding myself absolutely rigid inside the sheath whilst she attached her metal stretching device to the scaffolding erected at the base of the couch. Soon my already stretched balls were being further stretched by the addition of ropes and weights over the pulleys. Actually, once Mistress administered more of her medicinal intoxicating aroma through her anaesthetic breathplay setup, I had time to absorb the ache and I was starting to feel in the zone once more. Hmmm! Another confession that Mistress will no doubt seek to exploit!

A few more weights, a little more kindness from my Mistress, a few strokes to my sheathed cock and balls and I was floating in that space between ache and ecstasy. My mind was fully alert, as was my body although severely restrained. My thoughts were free to dwell on how lucky I am and I drifted back over the previous 150 sessions as I frequently do when I am in this relaxed state.

December 2013, our fiftieth anniversary session, Mistress and her husband John took me out for lunch in a wheelchair. . . Maggie fed me sausages. . . lucky day Friday 13th. . .

In between the stretching, my mind drifted forward to our hundredth anniversary. . .  Hugely inflated balls. . . my portrait captured and now displayed for all to see on the Chambers wall. . . tea making and serving Maggie's friends. . . precise instructions so as not to embarrass my Mistress. . .  Now, back to the present, I feel at home and honoured that Mistress and her husband had spent so much time in the previous anniversary preparations.

We had already agreed before this session that Maggie would not be making quite such elaborate plans for the sesquicentennial, yet my Mistress possesses a remarkable natural ability to make every session electrifyingly special.

Despite the tightness of the white latex hood and the fact that Maggie occasionally zipped the front flaps shut, I could still hear sounds reasonably well, and I detected the familiar sound of Maggie ripping open one of her sterile packages and heard her announce that I was to receive a sound. Not just a sound but a sparkling sound.

Even with the copious lube there was still too much resistance to the number 8. Maggie never forces such issues, if it wont slide in under its own weight it is immediately removed. Not so with the number 7. That one was happy to slide in all the way and once more I experienced that little shudder of delight as it plumbed the depths. That little shudder turned into a steady, or more specifically a constantly varying charge, as Maggie played with the buttons on the e-stim. Maggie certainly knows which buttons to press with this slave!

Only to the edge but no further. Mistress kept me moaning for quite a while but those few moments to force a climax were denied. I was frustrated but I knew Mistress is in control. That wasn't quite the end of this latest milestone session. No celebration is complete without a celebratory drink and this 150th session was no exception. Mistress wheeled her IV stand closer, attached a funnel and feeding tube and decanted a good quantity of fresh house wine. Needless to say I consumed all of it, perhaps a little selfish I know, but a good quantity of Maggie Nouveau is the best possible drink a slave could wish for.

And what for the future? Mistress Maggie willing, I will eventually be reporting on our 200th session, but I would like to thank my owner from the bottom of my heart for giving me so many happy memories already in my slave life.

But we still haven't found what we were looking for.

A Load of Little B's

I had barely started to close the door to the Chambers when Mistress Maggie's experienced hand reached out and in an instant had a leash clipped onto my slave collar. Her insistent tugging allowed just sufficient time and freedom to remove my shoes and coat and leave them tidily in the hallway, I was then close reined and tugged upstairs towards the Playroom.

Was it my imagination or was Mistress purposely drawing me even closer to her golden latex covered bottom? When she abruptly stopped well. . . I didn’t, causing my face to be nestled into her right cheek. I think that temporary pause on the stairs was of her own design, otherwise I would have earned a stout telling off. Being allowed to kiss and fawn over the most beautiful latex covered globes I could imagine so soon after arriving is a most rare thing, and an opportunity I keenly grasped.

My plum latex catsuit was laid out on the bed as Maggie had decided it would be my uniform for the day. I was dispatched to the bathroom to return in just stockings and gloves. Oh, and of course my slave collar which by now had been released from my lead. It never takes long to cast aside my outdoor clothes, I talc the gloves and socks, slip them on and report back to the Playroom clutching my butt plug which I must present to Mistress. I was soon knocking on the Playroom door for the 149th time, butt plug in hand, waiting to be ordered inside by my owner.

Mistress was comfortably seated on her throne, or come to think of it she may have been less comfortable than usual as the chair had lost its regal covering. Anyway it was strangely located in the middle of the room facing the door, providing me with a full frontal view of my beautiful owner as I entered.

Kneeling down I was ready and very willing to worship those long black boots. When left to my own devices I usually complete one boot before moving onto the second, but Maggie wanted a different technique today that got my head moving in a military march like fashion; left boot, right boot then immediately back to the left, then to the right, lick kiss and worship . . .  and on it progressed, all the while accompanied by a similar military tattoo across my backside with a tan leather whip. Maggie placed her strokes with sufficient force to maintain my attention rather but they didn't qualify as a real punishment flogging. Once the boots were polished to Maggie's satisfaction it was into my catsuit, bend over the throne for the very rapid and most pleasurable insertion of the butt plug and we were ready to proceed to the real meat of today's training.

Then a bombshell. Mistress calmly looked me in the eye and gave me a right bollocking for failing to proofread a recently published blog. The formatting was poor, sentences not finished, words missed etc. ‘Why did I have to rectify more than a dozen of your mistakes slave?’ It was no use trying to give excuses, I could only apologise sincerely for my slovenliness and for bringing Mistresses reputation into disrepute by her owning an absolutely stupid and careless slave. I expected punishment and feared the worst.

Mistress then soothingly said, ‘don't worry slave I am not going to cane you this time’. Imagine the relief, I was to be spared the cane and again I promised that I would try much harder. At the time that single act of kindness carried far more weight than receiving the cane. I was quite happy to relax secure in the knowledge that a caning was not imminent, relaxed at being ordered to lie on the bed and be secured there by my benevolent Mistress and I was even relaxed as Maggie produced a card containing small metal clamps and started applying them to my cock and balls.

The first couple went on fine; Maggie carefully positioning them. A little discomfort was felt as she shook and stretched my cock to make sure the clamps were secured as well as her slave, but comfort levels quickly vanished as more of her clamps were applied. Mistress had obviously foreseen the reaction her clamps would have on my pain levels and had sensibly put a breathe through gag into my mouth to stifle any moans that might be forced out.

Things then definitely took a turn for the worse. I wasn't going to receive the cane but Mistress was going to attach her electrics box in the same haphazard way that I had approached my Blog writing. 'Maybe one wire attached to the top here', and I felt the top clip wobble as the electrode was clipped in place, then 'maybe one on your balls at the bottom'. An ominous twitching tremor ran along my cock and balls as the second electrode was clicked in place, and then another pair were attached to the sides, just for fun.

Almost my view in the mirror.

As Mistress ramped up the power I could feel now why I wasn't receiving the cane for punishment. As the setting went up and down it felt like a circular electric shock all round my groin area. Mistress laughed as I started to shake and I think I was also starting to cry. These little B's were really starting to bite, the electrics were becoming unbearable and I was really grateful for the gag. I was dribbling like mad as the little buggers bit my cock, spat out the current and genuinely really hurt.

And then, just as Mistress gauged I had received sufficient punishment and was starting to gradually reduce the input levels I really couldn't help myself. With the raging torment still running through those menacing clamps . . . I think I was forced to climax! I say think because the overall sense was one of painful cock and balls, but I also felt that familiar warmth of ejaculation. Mistress showed no solace when she removed the little b******s either, preferring to pull on each one until it became detached rather than unclip it. She quipped that these Chinese clamps were a bit rough round the edges, but I think they were probably made by Nippon because that was exactly what the clamps did!

Why I wasn't sure if I’d just embarrassed myself was because, although my cock had deflated, I still wanted more. More of my Mistress, more training, just more of my little slot in heaven, I wasn't tired, which is a typical male reaction after orgasm and I begged Maggie to continue with the session.

Released from the bed bondage Mistress allowed me the luxury of a little recovery time by presenting her derrière for some much appreciated worship. I know Maggie likes to have her rubber bottom gently stroked with a latex covered hand, and she certainly deserves to have her cheeks kissed and licked as well. One thing I find is that once kissed and licked latex becomes less 'smooth' and less easy to gently stroke; a slave needs a sensible strategy to accomplish both. No problem. Lick and kiss one cheek and stroke the other. When my drool had had time to dry I could change cheeks and continue my worship. I am really delighted Mistress allowed this brief recovery time as far more 'relaxing' experiences were to follow.

I was soon captured in the tight embrace of Mistresses leather straitjacket and a chest harness was buckled on over the top. The straitjacket is a particularly wonderful garment especially when worn over all my latex. You just slide your arms easily into its overlong mittened sleeves, and once strapped in and tightened up you can forget any thoughts of getting out on your own.

It was my turn to sit on the wooden bondage chair now and immediately a couple of ropes were lashed round my ankles to prevent me moving from any location. Maggie expended quite a lot of energy tightening straps around me, but the one around my shoulders had been positioned a little high giving me the chance to have a bit of fun. Gentle wriggling and shoulder shrugging when Mistresses back was turned forced it to slipped off my arms and lay loosely round my neck.

I don't know if Maggie realised my part in shuffling the strap off the shoulders (she will do now!), but once it had been noticed it was immediately repositioned under the securing eyes as the photo shows. It certainly wasn't going to slip off again!

I could marvel at the predicament I was so fortunate to be in as the room mirror had been angled in my direction. Though of course, having a tube stuck in your mouth and half a dozen rubber bandages wrapped round your head does somewhat restrict visibility. Visual isolation does heighten the other senses and the occasional touches I received from Maggie felt electric, the latex would move and squeak a little as she stroked my head or my stirring cock area, then it went quiet and I have no concept of how long Mistress kept me in isolation, I really was enjoying my dreams and I did notice that my previously deflated cock was making its presence felt as I thought of Mistress in her gold latex suit, her wonderful sense of humour and ravishing beauty, and I was generally quite 'hard' again.

When the bandages were finally stripped away I was to have the luxury of wearing the Belgium mask again, which meant I could gaze at my beautiful Mistress as she went about her business. But not before indulging in a second bit of fun though, and a kind that Maggie noticed more quickly.

She was standing right in front of me unwinding the last of the rubber bandages, me still breathing away through the tube gag. I discovered that if you wiggle the end of the tube with a few dextrous head movements you can manoeuvrer the end of the tube then suck hard enough a slave can attach himself to his rubber Mistress and draw her in closer! I used this technique and managed to latch onto Maggie’s breast but my tomfoolery was taken in good humour. I was in heaven again and I think I saw a glint in Maggie's eyes.

And so to the final part of my breathing exercises, with my formal introduction to Mistress Maggie's portable breathing bottle, it was safely secured on my back with a harness and attached to the Belgium mask with a hose. The bottle is a remarkable piece of equipment and one that a slave could wear for a long time whilst performing normal slave duties. The wooden throne needed some minor modification in order to accommodate the back pack, simply achieved by removing two slats from the back, something I had not seen done before. Two and a bit jugfuls of tap water were brought through and loaded into the bubble bottle so the tank was full, and I was off bubbling like a Leaky Cauldron. I did mention that I prefer Mistresses nectar, but even with her extra special capacity I think two jugfuls may have extended even Maggie's capabilities.

Clearly enjoying the bubble sounds and attempting to convert them into 'music' was not sufficient for Maggie. After a while she wanted to upset my breathing by judicious application of her electric vibrator. She backed on to me and started with the vibrator, pressing it into my crotch. Then little by little she opened her crotch zip and instead of wasting time on her slave she diverted attention to herself. Sat as I was in front of the mirror, I had the most glorious view of my Mistress as she enjoyed the vibes. Her eyes partially closed, she sank deeper onto my knee and so it continued until my leg felt the flow of warm fluid and Mistress sounded particularly happy. I, in turn almost came for the second time in one session. I was certainly rock hard again when Mistress came down from her high, giving me that very sweet smile that only she can generate and offering me a very moist vibrator to suck on.

What a privilege to clean Mistresses used vibrator and that was that. I was so happy Mistress Maggie had appeared to enjoy herself and not for the first time her slave was left a little frustrated. As in every session there are first experiences aplenty. The portable bubble bottle, the removable back of the throne, a very beautiful woman pleasuring herself on her slaves knee and of course, being milked by a load of little B's with a couple of thousand volts. Life is never dull and always exciting when you commit to being one of the slaves of a wonderful and imaginative Mistress.

The treatment worked by the way. I was way more careful in my next writings.

Caution: This 1:56sec bubble bottle clip has audio

 

Chorley

Chorley, a quiet friendly Lancashire town is situated on the main West Coast main line, but more crucially it’s just a direct bus ride from Mistress Maggie's Chambers.

There was barely a ripple of interest from the Chorlians as I walked dutifully behind my Mistress with only the occasional glance at the slave collar I was proudly wearing. Hardly surprising really, because I was with a very beautiful friend who naturally attracts admiring glances. One or two may have been envious of my status, who wouldn't be, however, I did have two encounters with the locals concerning my collar. I have more to share about those encounters later along with an explanation as to why we found ourselves in Chorley.
I was really excited about the direction Mistress was to take for today's session, as she had made it quite clear in the calling mail that ‘. . . you should arrive in a roomy pair of trousers, and I can confirm that my intentions are to dominate you outdoors for part of your session. Ensure that you are also well hydrated when you arrive . . .’

In a previous session we had talked about how it would be a real buzz for me to be taken out in my latex suit, with my bum plugged and a catheter deployed. A scenario which looked like it was about to happen from the words in the calling mail, and I became both nervous and excited that Mistress might trust me with such a duty. However, when I contacted Mistress to say I’d be arriving for my session soon, what I thought was certain became rather more doubtful '. . . Wear a black short sleeve t shirt and black latex shorts to arrive . . . We’re not going out in the car.'

As always, I could rely on my Mistress to keep me guessing!

It was another very warm summer day and I arrived at The Chambers in the black latex clothes I had been instructed to wear with my baggy trousers on top. My latex shorts were already feeling quite moist. Even if we were to venture out in Mistresses husbands car, I would certainly need a plastic membrane to protect my seat, a thought that turned out to be quite unnecessary.

It had been obvious from the moment Maggie opened the door that I was likely in for a treat, as she had her piss pants on and I was hoping I knew where their contents would end up. With my outdoor clothes stripped away I set about worshipping Mistresses thigh length, black leather boots and I really tried not to be distracted by the rubber drain tube that was dangling between them. My butt plug was to be inserted next; Mistress has done a really good job of stretching my bum and the large red plug slid in easily before I was 'walked' on my lead, via the toilet to The Clinic.

I received the system mask, then strapped to the couch I was prepared for catheterisation. The catheter went in so quickly that I was amazed when Maggie said I was now plugged at both exits and had already begun tidying up her used sterile items ready for disposal.

Mistress showed less haste when is came to throwing the plastic drape away though and decided to tease her patient with it instead. As I lay there Maggie placed the drape over my nose, it has the kind of intoxicating plastic smell that any true plastic fetishist simply cannot resist. My natural instinct was to breath deeply on its strong and wonderful aroma, making it way too easy for Maggie to suffocate her slave with the drape. I was helpless and could be teased until I was quite breathless. The opening lines of 'Take my breath Away' floated into my head as Maggie continued to enjoy her plaything.

A breath through gag was then attached to the system mask; one which is ideal for drinking through. I had done as I was told and arrived well hydrated, even so I was about to receive considerably more liquid refreshment! Mistress is really thoughtful in her delivery. The nectar isn't released all at once, a good thing because the flow Maggie is capable of producing could totally overwhelm a slave, not to mention probably drown him. A good healthy head of fluid was visible in her piss pants and Mistress regulated the flow of my piss drink to a sensible level. Suffice is to say, I had a wonderful long drink of Mistress’ fresh, rehydrating fluids.

Mistress then uncovered another surprise. ‘A rubber catheter bag slave. It can be worn inside or outside your trousers. Which do you want?’

I was starting to question my bottle and stammered ‘inside please’. The leg bag was brand new and after a little surgery to shorten the drain tube it was strapped to my left thigh. Once the clamp was removed I experienced that familiar feeling of trickling pee. I had absolutely no control of when to pee and that was a little disconcerting! After a few adjustments Maggie thought it better to tape the exit tap closed to prevent any accidental leakage and the final question concerned what I should wear. Although I was confident about wearing the latex t-shirt in public the amount of sweat it had already generated was a bit of a concern. Mistress would have a very wet slave by the end of the journey so we settled on normal clothes and my slave collar and we were ready to depart.

‘We are going to catch the bus to Chorley.’ Mistress announced. A good ride of almost an hour, and once we had arrived at our destination we could check how much pee had flowed into the latex bag. The bus journey was very pleasant, we sat on the back seat where we talked about a number of perv subjects and other friendly musings, and I gazed at how amazing my Mistress is. All the while I suspected that the bag was gradually filling, but it posed no problems.

By the time we arrived and we stood up to disembark, the catheter bag was definitely feeling more weighty and there was a considerable bulge appearing under my slack trousers. But not to worry, anyone noticing would see a beautiful woman and a bulge in her companions trousers, quite natural really, but I suspected my highly visible slave collar would divert attention.

We sauntered around Chorley market, I bought Mistress a very nice bracelet from one of the local shops and finally walked into a local coffee shop fairly close to the bus station where two coffees were drank at our leisure. The coffee shop was busy with an easy and relaxed environment, although buying a suitable snack proved impossible because they had run out of buns. Mistress and I talked some more and Mistress exchanged some words and a smile with a lady sitting at the next table.

Meanwhile, my rubber cath bag was still filling and creating an even bigger bulge inside my trousers and I was conscious that it might be full. I needed to ask Maggie if I was allowed to use the toilets to attempt to empty it. Mistress gave permission and clear instructions on what I should do and off I trotted, upstairs to find the toilets.

An interesting experience to say the least. I found a cubical, dropped my pants, removed the safety tape from the tap, pointed it down the pan and. . . Whoosh. . . A veritable Tsunami shot down the porcelain. If you have ever filled a balloon with water and then let it go, that is the type of reaction my catheter bag created. It is a good job I had a firm hold of the hose otherwise I could have flooded the whole place with pee.

I returned without the bulge and satisfied that the catheter and bag worked a treat. There is nothing a slave can do once catheterised but trust the equipment. You can't stop the flow, you have no control and even the butt plug is there to stay. It is most liberating to know you are outwardly 'normal' yet still under total control of your Mistress and because of Maggie's thoroughness, totally safe and dry.

Next it was Maggie's turn to visit ‘the ladies’ and after just a few minutes she had returned to the table. The reusable flask that she had been drinking from throughout our journey was once more placed on the table, she began decanting its contents into a fresh coffee cup that she must have collected on the way. The drink was offered to me and believing it was an extra drink to keep me hydrated and the bag filling up, I eagerly accepted. I expected cool clear water, but no, it was better than that. Mistress presented me with a cup of warm nectar which of course was drained in a thrice.

And that I thought was the end of the adventure as Maggie announced ‘Time for home’. Except on the way out, a gentleman sitting on a low bench having a few beers with his mates noticed and commented on my collar. Maggie instantly hooked her finger through it and eased me towards the gentleman asking if he wanted to read the inscription on the medal - ‘slave in training’. Seamlessly he hooked his finger into the ring, dragging me further forward and said, 'Give us a blow job then’. I was in absolute turmoil wondering how Mistress wished me to react. I am her property but there was only a grin and no instruction from her. ‘I can’t I'm taken’ I stammered, and fortunately was immediately released.

The outline of the filling cath bag is just visible above my left knee.

The man laughed as we went on our way and suggested Maggie should ‘take good care of this one!’ Mistress seemed amused and unconcerned about my encounter. I still don't know if Mistress had anticipated this when she drew me towards the fellow, or whether she was as surprised as I was? In any event, I am owned and Maggie can do whatever she wishes with her slave.

On a lighter note, as we had been unable to buy a bun we stopped to purchase a sandwich for Maggie. The young girl serving us also commented that she liked my collar, but this time I managed to save myself from landing in any mischief; I smiled and said thank you. That was the end of the contact and the lady didn't ask me for a blow job.

The return bus journey was enjoyable but relatively uneventful, although I could feel my bag filling again. However, when we stood up to get off I felt the retaining strap pop open and I had to leave the bus holding the tube through my trouser pocket. Once again, all the public would see was a man alighting from a bus in the company of a very attractive lady with a bulge in my trousers. Most natural.

As we sauntered back to The Chambers I told Maggie about the strap and once indoors I could gently let the bag slide to its natural position, there from just beneath the hemline of my baggy trousers was the tip of the drain tap smiling back at us. Off to the bathroom then, Mistress bringing her syringe to deflate my catheter before removal. The rubber catheter bag needed emptying and thoroughly cleaning, and that I thought was the end, but Mistress had other plans and I was dragged back into her Playroom to complete my slave duties for the day.

I was ordered to strip with the exception of the butt plug of course, I was naked as the day I was born. Mistress picked a latex hood from her plentiful collection and strapped on her dildo harness, complete with her large flesh coloured dildo Mistress was ready for her slaves attention. I was finally ordered to give my Mistress a blow job. No doubts or reservations this time and with the right encouragement from Maggie and a warning as to where else she intended to put it I set about mouthing the dildo. I could only manage about half into my mouth and I really hoped that the movements were giving some pleasure to my Mistress. I have tried so many things with Mistress but this was a new lesson for this slave, as Maggie had never encouraged me before in this direction. I was handed a Durex and told to put it on her dildo.

Maggie ordered me onto all fours where she could easily pop the long stay resident butt plug out of my backside. I was instructed to sit on her knee and pleasure the dildo she was wearing. Yet another wonderful new experience.

The whole length of Maggie's shaft was taken easily and eagerly up my bum hole. I sat and wiggled and tried to get it deeper embedded and groaned quite a lot. Once more I hoped Maggie was having some fun because her slave certainly was. The position allowed Maggie to snake her free hands around me and grasp my cock and balls. That is a most explosive position!. . . except it wasn't. Just as I was about to warn Mistress that I was about to involuntarily ejaculate, she abruptly stopped and withdrew her energetic dildo. That was that. Another demonstration as to who is in total charge of all my emotions, orifices and experiences during my all too brief a time serving Mistress Maggie.

As to my experience in Chorley. It was a real buzz and I only hope I didn't let my Mistress down. The natives appear down to earth and friendly. I know I am a really fortunate slave and will do whatever my Mistress asks, although I am still unsure I’d have given that gent his blow job outside Chorley market if I had been so instructed, but then again I do trust my Mistresses judgement 100%.