Time in the Twilight Zone

Entering the Chambers from the bright autumnal afternoon sunshine it takes a short period of time before your eyes become accustomed to the subdued ambient light. Behind the porch way lies a quiet area where mysterious objects are hanging silently on their pegs, creating an almost surreal atmosphere that gives the Chambers the feeling of a Twilight Zone. That strange, noiseless, wonderful world of latex, plastic and leather garments, punctuated by the occasional squeak or rustle as you disturb their thoughts and slumber, draws you deeper under their spell. The low light reflects from the sentinels, and I think I can be forgiven for temporarily believing that Mistress Maggie was once more fully attired in her stunning, form fitting, latex catsuit.

As my eyes became more accustomed to the half light I began to see that what I thought was full latex, was actually Mistresses latex leotard on top of the most stunning, almost opaque black tights. I momentarily stopped to gaze at my Mistresses beautiful image that was now more clearly defined in the brighter lights of the stairway, and must have stammered out a question about her striking combination of garments because she stopped halfway up the stair, turned and smiled to acknowledge my confusion, and with an almost imperceptible nod agreed to my request to get closer to her perfectly formed derrière. The latex gloves that I arrived wearing glided smoothly and seamlessly between the two materials and the effect was truly amazing.

I was only permitted the briefest of encounters before Mistress resumed her sensuous glide to the Playroom, where I was briefed and instructed to deposit my red catsuit on the bed to get warm. Dispatched to the bathroom I was told to return as quickly as I could, attired in my collar, red latex stockings and red latex gloves. I knelt before my Mistress. Maggie’s boots were long, black and shiny with laces up the front. This time I avoided kissing the laces as I worshipped and paid homage to my owners footwear, I even managed a quick nuzzle of those remarkable tights with the tip of my nose, nothing more, but that briefest of contact confirmed these were indeed similar in texture to latex.

We briefly tried a new larger butt plug that Mistress retrieved with a flurry from behind the curtains, it went in OK but either the shape of my arse or that of the plug resulted in it gradually sliding outwards. It just wouldn't stay in place. Mistress knew it would just pop out and, although a harness might retain the little bugger, she said her preference was for an alternative to be chosen. So for the time being at least, my trusty red butt plug continues to reside in the darkest depths of my arsehole.

A hood was to be fitted and I was instructed to kneel between Maggie's legs, putting me in very close proximity of her glossy covered thighs. As the fitting proceeded, I was able to exercise my latex gloved hands a little to confirm that earlier magical feeling of those special thighs. My hood for a while would be a black pull on number with perforated eyes and mouth openings. Being a pull-on hood, we exercised caution when fitting me into my new skin, latex can tear easily if handled badly, as we both knew only too well from previous experiences and so I remained quite still as Maggie gently eased it in place.

That strange phenomena of the eye perforations once more returned me to thoughts of the Twilight Zone. I could gaze at my Mistress but the vision was much as I imagine an insect would see, clear but pixillated. Which turned out to be a most appropriate analogy as Maggie ensnared me lengthwise on the horse with her web of leather straps.

Mistress came round into my restricted vision and said I was to be stretched, and that one of her larger strap on dildos would do nicely. Once again as Mistress presented her massive toy for my inspection, the restricted view through the little perforations distorted what I was seeing and I had to move my head to take in the full extent of what was about to invade my backside. More lube and I lost sight as Maggie lined up the pole with the hole. Once again Mistress showed her caring side as she gently eased the tip of the invader into its target. She needn't have worried. With virtually no resistance, first the tip then the first inch or so then the whole lot was slowly sliding in, up to the hilt. I eagerly thrust backwards to accept as much as Maggie could give her slave and Maggie spared no time in reciprocating.

I really was disappointed when Maggie finally pulled out and re-instated my red butt plug in the vacant hole, I hope she got as much pleasure from my good f***ing as I did. There were more pleasures to follow in today's curriculum and after a few moments rest for both of us and time to remove the strap on, Maggie positioned me underneath the ceiling ring and started to red wrap my upper body with film, arms by my side but hands free next to my thighs. I thought nothing of this minor freedom and suspected that Mistress would naturally complete the full wrap later.

However, Maggie put her clingfilm down and instead I got a couple of strange add ons; a couple of winds of red gaffer tape around my torso to keep everything nice and snug and a leather muzzle. I thought that was a gag but strangely it had only very limited gagging effect. Oh well, Mistress always has a good plan and a reason for everything and I would just have to wait and see where we were going. Maggie knows I love her latex bed and so I was placed down the centre of it, and with my legs hitched up to the ceiling with rope the clingfilm came out again and bound my legs together. My situation just got better and better as I discovered that the muzzle made a most effective anchorage for head chains and my feet were immobilised with similar chains to the base of the bed. I could have quite happily been left there in bondage for hours, so comfortable that I am certain sleep could have enveloped this very happy latex slave. Until of course I felt activity around my groin.

More tape was being pulled from the roll of gaffer tape and then the vibrations started. Mistress knew I had been celibate for a while and was about to prove that she does own every one of my emotions. Maggie left me to it, the only option available to me was to writhe in my pleasurable predicament, the vibrator was taped to me and the powerful vibrations just kept coming. I tried hard to resist, not sure if she wanted me to cum or whether I would be punished, but eventually I lost all control and ejaculated inside my latex catsuit. It appeared to be exactly what Maggie wanted. She wasn't annoyed, in fact she patted my groin, sexily saying, ‘Good boy, it’s been quite a while hasn’t it?’. Opening my zip she cleaned away the mess and disposed of her soiled gloves, as she donned another pair she announced, ‘First the pleasure, now the pain’. That has a most salutary effect on post orgasmic pleasure!

Maggie's safety scissors cut away the cling film bindings and I was encouraged to stretch out on the bed. In other times that would have been a luxurious experience but this time I was being spread-eagled and destined for some post orgasm torture. Chained securely to the corners I was to wear the tusk mask to facilitate aroma delivery. An oxballs cock cage device was attached and alarmingly Mistress suggested that next time a cable tie might make it more permanent! The final bits to be captured were my, by now, somewhat depleted balls, and Maggie had to engage the assistance of one of her cut down pairs of tights to gather them up and neatly secure the leather ball harness in its operational position.

The pain starts as the wheel of the stretcher is turned a few revolutions. It is definitely not like the pain of electrics which can be short sharp and immediate. This is the aching pain which starts in the root of your cock as the scrotum is stretched. At first it is quite pleasant as the most beautiful woman fondles your manhood, checking out how taut your balls are becoming and making sure the harness is in the right position for an even pull, then it turns to acceptance of the ache because that’s what her unyielding wooden ball stretcher was designed for and that is what Mistress wants.

An amusing diversion occurred when my balls, now much reduced in size following my earlier enforced ejaculation, managed to free themselves from their captivity. All in her stride, Maggie just retied the fastening even tighter, adjusted the attachments and was happy to begin the whole procedure again and successfully complete the exercises she had prescribed.

Yes, I've enjoyed this expansion in the past, but then we moved into new heights of ache as the handle was turned and turned again. I slightly bent my knees within the tight confines of the knee straps and tight chains, that provided a small amount of relief but only until Mistress made another turn of the wheel. That took me right to the edge of the ache. Once your knees are bent you daren't adjust your position on the bed again, because if they were to straighten during the move I’d really be fearing for the welfare of Mistresses balls! So endure I did. Mistress had taken us much further along the stretching routine than on previous occasions, I know that because for the first time, as I breathed in and my chest rose slightly with the inhalation the ache in my balls intensified. A bit of a dilemma, breathe or contain the ache? I settled for taking as shallow breaths as I could survive, and drifted towards dreams of my perfect owner Mistress Maggie, and how far we have travelled.

My thoughts returned to my initial experience in the hallway and the Twilight Zone. There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone and Maggie takes me there every time we meet.

A Glimpse of Heaven

The sun was shining through the hints of Autumn, the temperature cool but not too cold. Another perfect day to serve Mistress Maggie and I almost skipped the final few metres towards her chambers through the fallen Autumn leaves.

Today I would be addressing Maggie as my Queen, as per her calling mail - 'Your throned rubber Queen intends to pump and work you hard to earn yourself some delicious pleasures'.

What a stunning sight greeted me as my Queen opened the door and allowed me to step into her Queendom. Queen Maggie looked beautiful in her full latex with a long flowing skirt, and adorning her neck was her chain of Queenship that occasionally tinkled and chimed as she moved. Being told to, I quickly left my jacket in the cloakroom and followed my Queen. Maggie always looks truly magnificent and on this occasion her garments flowed like liquid gold.

Soon she was occupying her throne where her skirt draped open in a most provocative manner, giving her subject a tantalising view of her stocking tops and tiny latex thong when I knelt before my Queen. Not much chance I’d be receiving a knighthood today, if that were the case surely Maggie would have given a clue in her calling mail, so instead I followed the normal etiquette of waiting for Mistress to signal me with her foot and bow down to worship her gold studded boots, just as I have done before.

The gold pyramid decorations along the outsides of the boots received my undivided attention, but worshipping the higher parts of the boots nearest to the forbidden stocking top territory had me somewhat distracted. Of course I continued my licking and kissing while sneaking a peek at my Queens’s latex underwear. I cannot recall anything in the Rule Book about not mentally worshipping those forbidden parts, but I do know exactly where I am allowed to physically go and always stay within the boundaries laid down by my Mistress. (I wonder if it is treason though to have such thoughts about ones ruler?)

I was not allowed to rise just yet but was told to ‘about turn kneel, head on carpet', at a suitable angle for my red butt plug to be inserted. Mistress took out a tape measure and jotted down my plug’s measurements saying, ‘you need a larger plug slave’, before pushing it in my butt and helping me into my heavy latex catsuit, a gas mask quickly followed and it looked like I might be receiving some stimuli today when a bottle of aroma was opened and attached to the breathing hose.

In the centre of the room a chain was hanging from the ceiling, I was told to hold on to it for stability while I got my butt plug moving. Mistress ramped up the music volume, pumped the aroma pump and danced round in that sensual way that I have only ever experienced in her presence; I did notice she was clutching a whip. I was to receive a flogging from my Queen as we danced; the crack of the cat echoing inside the gas mask. My heavy latex catsuit absorbed most of the power of the swinging leather, turning the strokes into gentle caresses with very little pain and lots of pleasure. My dancing Queen was aware of the desensitising effect of the thick rubber and allowed her blows to rain down from every angle, even the cat between my legs added to my delight. Mistress danced, I swayed clutching the chain, timing my movements to provide the best targets. Mistress pumped the aromas and I loved every moment.

That's for securing the catheter.

We moved quietly and quickly into the Clinic; well to be more precise, my Queen flowed sensually and I floated in a wonderful state of euphoria and there I was slid into the inflatable latex suit that had been laid out waiting for me. A wonderful garment with the sensation of ending up dressed in three slippery layers of rubber.

Again I was pleased it was a cool autumn day as the prospect of an overheating slave were still present but greatly reduced, remaining covered in the suit for a long time seemed well within my capabilities. That was just as well, because once pumped up, that was just how I remained for the remainder of the session.

The inflatable gloves and hood went on and I lay on the medical couch being pumped up until I had become a large inflated rubber slave, and there I was buckled down. Mistress insisted on a few extra pumps to my balloon head every now and then, enough to make the hood so tight that even the lightest touch sounded like a balloon being flicked. In fact that is exactly what it was. My advice to any would be 'pump heads' is to make sure you keep a firm grip on the mouth tube, because with all the extra pressure there is a tendency for the tube to force its way outwards. It takes a little practice but I have it mastered and could breathe easily. The question ‘are you still holding on to that tube slave?’ becomes a regular precaution when Mistress is nursing a pumped headed slave.

I am never strapped down for nothing and was curious as to what sort of operation I would be having today when Mistress zipped open my crotch area and my excited cock sprung out. It was a strange and pleasant sensation having my bits fully exposed while the inflatable suit pressed down firmly on my surrounding abdominal area. Before I knew it there was more inflation going on inside my bladder, because Maggie had inserted a catheter down my penis and it was time to pump a syringe full of saline into the internal bulb to ensure the tube was safely and deeply embedded in my plumbing!

I know I have said this before but my Mistress is the best nurse a patient could ever wish for when it comes to installing a catheter. The procedure is now routine but just as carefully administered with a full sterile kit of parts; her patients cock is cleaned, lubricated and desensitised, a saline syringe is prepared for inflating the bulb, a pack of white sterile gloves are opened and donned for the catheterisation itself, the saline is deployed and that’s it. Safe and secure and my bladder function controlled once again by my owner. Apart from the wonderful sensation as the tube gently slides in with a shudder of delight, the only other sense is one of complete and everlasting gratitude that Mistress is an expert in this sort of operation. A latex leg bag fitted nicely round my inflated leg, attached to the outlet pipe of the catheter and I was ready for going anywhere and no stops for 'Mistress I need the toilet!. I love it.

A good view of my Queens chain of office

Returning to the Playroom I started to see some of the limitations of wearing the inflatable hood for a lengthy period. Mistress was fine, she was in the mood for some rubber relaxation and looked eerily mysterious with her feet up, gas mask on and listening to some of her favourite Buddy Guy tracks. Looking towards her clear gas mask lenses for a glimpse into her deep eyes, my own plastic lenses were severely misting and the pressure of the hood also affected what I could see as my line of sight was somewhat above the horizontal, which meant I had to lower my head to see anything in front. Come to think of it, was this my Mistresses forward planning? A bowed head to my Queen seems quite appropriate!.

I was told that I would be helping with the cleaning and was led by my collar to the bathroom to bring the sundries. A cleaning sponge, spray and a bowl of water were needed and I gathered them up and carefully followed my Mistress. I couldn't see much at all but I trust Mistress 100% and just went where the gentle tug on my collar took me. I ended up back in the centre of the Playroom, the overhead gantry was lowered and I received instruction from my Queen to clean the gantry and to 'get on with it'.

As Queen Maggie looked on from her throne I was happy with being able to serve my Liege. Most of the cleaning was done by touch as my already limited vision was steaming up even more. Feel the sponge, feel the spray, point spray and hope. It worked and I sensed all the spray went on the sponge and it was then a relatively easy matter of holding the frame with one hand and cleaning with the sponge with the other.

Fortunately Mistress had removed my inflated gloves before starting me on the cleaning duties which was just as well, because with the gloves pumped up tight I had absolutely no feeling in them and of course no grip. Earlier I actually managed a stroke of my Queen's derrière while squeezing through a doorway. I hope Mistress liked the feel of my touch because I couldn't feel a thing. Mistress is very mischievous in this area, she knows I like stroking her bottom and would lose that pleasure in the mitts.

Cleaning was hard work, as upon inspection Mistress insisted that my first time attempt at sponging her gantry was not thorough enough and parts had been overlooked. So, once again I set about feel, point, squeeze and wipe. This time I took a lot longer, visiting the bowl of water more frequently to rinse out the sponge and carried on until my Queen was satisfied that her subject had completed what she’d asked. I was then told to clear up the spray, sponge and bowl back to the bathroom and this time Maggie didn’t bother getting up to lead me! I picked up the items and tried to visualise my route. I could just see, mainly the ceiling, but had to rely on my earlier trips in my attempt to navigate my inflated self through the doors, along the corridor and to the bathroom. I did manage the trip safely, but, as you might expect and unbeknown to me, Mistress in her latex gown had followed on and was never more that a step away, just in case I ran into trouble.

I was still feeling wonderful in the inflated suit and the catheter was really starting to excite. As I moved about with the once contents of my bladder sploshing about in my leg bag, I knew I had no option should I need to pee. Mistress was able to plug or unplug my bladder in an instant by simply removing or replacing the catheter bung. I even tried to go through the action of peeing. Maggie knows that is no use, her slave would only be allowed to pee in harmony with her wishes today and there was nothing I could or would do to alter that. Strange feeling knowing you need to pee, trying to pee and... nothing!

Pleasant use of the low whipping bench

My inflatable hood was removed and I was instructed to sit on the bed while Mistress retrieved a practical piece of Playroom furniture for what she had in mind. Mistress had also taken off her gas mask leaving her beautiful face framed by an open faced latex hood, she slipped out of the room returning almost immediately with bowls of ripe strawberries and cream and placed them on the bench. Was I about to be teased again as Mistress consumed the fruit? Not impossible. The last time strawberries came into the Playroom I was all strung up and immobilised as Maggie lay down eating the fruit in the provocative manner she performs so well. No, my Queen was about to share her fruit with her loyal subject. We sat on the side of the bed and I fed my Queen a large strawb doused in cream. Mistress took two delicate bites per fruit whereas me being a pig downed my offerings in one.

Picking up cream covered strawberries wearing latex gloves can be a very messy business and we managed to get cream in places cream had no business ending up. One dollop ended on Mistress Maggie's latex covered thigh and it was a delicious pleasure cleaning that up. Dining with my Queen was a truly wonderful experience for this slave. I was in very close contact with Mistress as she swallowed her strawberries and I was so close to those beautiful lips. Again my training overruled my instincts as I so wanted to kiss those sweet lips but resisted the urge and gently wiped away the excess cream from them.

Why the title A Glimpse of Heaven? Apart from the obvious that being with my Mistress is always a glimpse of heaven, the title is also a track by the 1960's group Strawbs, ah the delights of Strawbs and cream with a beautiful Mistress, one verse being a fitting link to today’s tasty and wonderful experience:

Could you only see what I've seen 

You would surely know what I mean 

I think I must have caught a glimpse of heaven.