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