Outer Limits

There is nothing wrong with your screen. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. Mistress Maggie is controlling transmission. If Mistress wishes to make it louder, she will bring up the volume. If Mistress wishes to make it softer, she will tune it to a whisper. Mistress will control the horizontal. Mistress will control the vertical. Mistress can roll the image, make it flutter. Mistress can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour or so, sit quietly and Mistress will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to – The Outer Limits. That is the strange sensation I experienced when I received the calling mail -

'Tomorrow your rubber Mistress will be training you in the essentials of Egyptology.'

Nothing strange so far you may think, but if I tell you that in the period since my last session I had almost exclusively been browsing the internet for mummification videos, purely for research I hasten to add, when my calling mail arrived from my Mistress I really wondered if she had a direct Wi-Fi link into my brain. How come after two weeks research on mummification does my owner produce the exact scenario I’ve been viewing?

Even more macabre was Maggie's matter of fact explanation of where she intended to take me;

1. Remove breath from slave with plastic
2. Conduct medical autopsy
3. Mummify slave with film and rolls of electrical tape
4. Insert sound, check if slave has arrived in heaven

. . . and possibly leave me for eternity for some archaeologist to discover in a few centuries time.

What is this strange form of mummification? Electrical tape wasn't around for the Egyptian mummies so it must be early 21st century? Oh well we'll gently cut it here and . . .

Back to the inner mind and something not quite so surreal. Mistress had adorned her legs in a pair of laced long black thigh boots and I spent a very happy time worshipping those perfect legs. Down to the heels, a long slow lick punctuated by as many kisses I could fit in and down again. It wasn't long however before Mistress needed to progress her slave towards the outer limits of her Egyptian plan.

The plastic bagging was to make sure I was as near mort as she could manage without actually losing her slave. I know it is going to come back to haunt me but I do like to gaze at my owner as she allows the oxygen in my little pod to depreciate, there is no benefit in being greedy with the available air so slowly does it, and its always a comfort to know that Mistress will stay by my side as I begin to struggle for breaths.

Somewhat of a dilemma for her victim today. With my wrists tightly secured to my balls there were only two ways to go, well three if Mistress really wanted to dispose of her slave, but two realistically; beg for air or rip my balls off trying to free myself from the situation. As a consequence of Mistress relenting in response to my desperate pleas for freedom, I managed to keep my balls and was ready for item 2 from the list, the autopsy. If Mistress wants me to play dead, then play dead I will.

Laid out on the slab I was instructed in no uncertain terms not to move. Mistress carefully positioned a towel across my abdomen and explained to me what was about to happen in her autopsy; swabs, hair follicles, nail slivers etc but what was alarming was she proceeded to mark out my chest area ready for looking at my internal organs. Momentarily that threw me. Maggie wouldn't open up her slave... would she? That thought, however fanciful and far fetched caused real havoc for this 'cadaver' and I think you may be able to detect the onset of rigor mortis under the towel. Well that was my excuse as Nurse Maggie giggled a little and reminded me that I must keep still!

This was starting to get way too real. Imagine what impact it had on my already unruly cock when she pulled back the towel, eased back my foreskin, clamped it in place with a pair of clamps and then started to gently swab all round, both inside and out for the first DNA sample. ‘Keep STILL slave!’ became a virtually impossible request as my manly bits were being man handled by my beautiful pathologist Mistress.

I of course could rarely see how beautiful Mistress was looking, because the clear latex hood I was wearing for the autopsy was anything but clear. The small holes at eye level were a few millimetres off line and all I could manage was an occasional glimpse of Mistress through one small hole, that treat was restricted too when the pillow supporting my head was placed under my back instead, apparently to give a more realistic dead pose. With her pair of tweezers Mistress then removed a hair follicle sample from under my left arm pit, placing it in a petri dish to be checked for disease. Note to self; make sure I clean off all body hair before my next session.

The final piece of the postmortem was to take a small piece of toe nail. This caused some amusement because unknown to Maggie, it had only been two days prior to my autopsy that I had visited the podiatrist and had all my nails trimmed. Nevertheless, where there’s a will there’s a way and Maggie moved her scissors from one toe to the next until she finally cut off a suitable sliver to add to her sample collection.

Once satisfied that she had poked, picked, snipped and tidied up her 'cadaver’, Mistress shoved an inflatable and vibrating plug up my bum to aid my passage into the afterlife, and announced that it was time to preserve her slave for posterity. To ensure my lithe, slim, muscular, young body would remain in as near perfect condition as it was, the plan was for three layers of mummification. In reality I think Mistress was more likely to call my body fat, old, unfit . . . but as always I can dream.

Back in the mummification room we positioned the bondage plank which would become my final resting place, and I was squeezed into my heavyweight latex catsuit. A quick yet effective wrap of cling film was applied just in case the tape and latex were incompatible and so Mistresses slave was about to become Mistresses mummy.

A beautifully smooth mummy and a beautifully smooth Mistress.

With a broad sweep of her arm Maggie showed me the rolls of electrical tape that she would be using and in the same motion invited me to sit for the first lengths of tape to be applied. As I had seen in my research, these were over the shoulder to around the nipple line. Strip after strip of the inch wide tape was applied in a methodical and incredibly precise layering until it looked like I was wearing silver armour.

The winding continued. This time round my substantial girth. Each layer being accurately positioned to overlap the previous binding, smoothed out, no gaps and getting tighter.

Two things happened during this phase of the mummification. The first occurred when Maggie began a full head mummification, but my personal limitations with the narrow electrical tape round the neck became apparent. Mistress gave it a good try out, but it was proving unrealistic for me to have my neck taped for an extended amount of time. Maggie realised that too tight a neck would result in either her slave becoming an actual cadaver, or at best being uncomfortable to the extent that I would have to beg for release before the taping was completed. Being an incredibly practical Mistress, Maggie already had a plan B and produced the lovely pewter latex hood, worn with my slave collar this combination provided a very passable colour-matched head covering for her mummy.

The second happened whilst I was sitting on the edge of the bed, quite happily enjoying the torso mummification. Because the tape was narrow I had to sit still and upright for longer than my body would allow, as Mistress turned away to get another roll of tape her unsupported slave gradually keeled over like a capsizing ship and ended on my back draped over the very comfortable latex bed. After two hefty blows with a whip I was soon back up to a sitting position, but as I have said in the past, my owner knows when I am struggling with an exercise and helped me onto the plank to finish off my legs, feet etc

Oh what a change in comfort levels once I was prone on the plank. They say a good stout plank is good to ease backache and it certainly was, plus I got a latex pillow on which to rest my head. Once again I was really happy to lay there as Maggie wound round and round my legs then taped my body to the plank. Whilst taping my torso she leaned over me to pass the tape under the plank and each time I could feel the warmth of her sensual body through the insulation tape, the only bit of me that could move grew just a little with each pass. I was being meticulously wrapped, each layer being carefully placed and carefully smoothed until totally and tightly secured to the plank and finally laid to rest.

Unlike gaffer tape mummification which I have done with Mistress in the past, electrical insulation tape has slightly more give. It offers tightness, moulds more smoothly and has a super lustrous shine. Mistress walked around me viewing her new mummy, passing her warms hands over the odd wrinkle here and there and adding short pieces of tape to the smallest exposed areas, all the time checking that her mummy was OK in this very tight situation. And oh boy was I alright!

A seasonal touch to a well insulated slave.

Some time went silently by before Maggie re-appeared and I started to feel that distinctive touch around my groin as she gently cut the tape and freed my cock and balls. Her mummy was to be bejewelled with bright steel items that would accompany me and hopefully bring me joy in the afterlife. I sensed some tight binding being wound around my scrotum, then the heavy ball weight that I had spotted sparkling on her counter during my last session came out to play. The weight was soon attached, ‘you can take this one for being nosey’ said Mistress, and her actions left my balls in the tightest of embraces. Not quite finished though. Another steel item that Mistress had displayed in her tweets, alongside the ball weight, was one very very long curved and ribbed sound.

The picture doesn't give any impression as to how long the sound actually is, but as I lay there luxuriating in my heavy binds and feeling Mistress gently inserting its tip, my cock just seemed to suck it in. All Maggie needed to do was hold it upright and the whole length; ribs, curved end and a foot of solid medical grade steel was gobbled up by a very hungry cock. As Maggie gently eased it in and out I exploded around the sound. I strained in my tape heaven but all I could do was enjoy that sensation and let out a very contented series of moans. ‘And that's for being nosey as well!’ Mistress had planned the mummification as my Christmas present and had even added a seasonal embellishment of snow flakes on her very happy and very controlled mummy.

I may regret saying this but I think I would like to experience the full weight of the magnetic ball weight in a 'normal' upright position, when working in the Playroom or dangling from the rafter ring or suspended from the overhead frame, or even next time Mistress Maggie allows me the privilege of accompanying her on a trip to the wide world.

Thank you Mistress for another wonderful year of new experiences and servitude to the most perfect owner, and for taking me to those Outer Limits.

N.B. - 6 rolls of narrow electrical tape were required to mummify me.

Go With the Flow

Today I anticipated that I would be receiving a lot of Mistress Maggie's nectar, followed by a catheter and possibly a little light exercise, then perhaps be made to consume my own waste products! My calling mail from Mistress had been typically illusive.

‘Your rubber nurse has designs on taking you to theatre and will be fuelling you up so you’re ready to go’. So I think that my guess of what may happen in the session to come was quite reasonable.

That was my first mistake. I was correct in assuming that Maggie would ply me with liquor of her own personal variety, but this was supplemented by several tumblers full of tap water. Having read a tweet from my Mistress the night before, I also assumed I might be the recipient of a very deep sounding or a heavy ball weighting using the toys that she’d proudly announced she had acquired. I could see the metal ball weight gleaming on Maggie’s dresser, but that's where it stayed.

The beginning of the session was straight from my training schedules. Mistress was clothed in full latex, a long and sculpted skirt which, when unzipped revealed her natural latex stockings over a second pair of black ones, producing a mysterious sheen of amber on black. But of more immediate relevance were her black court shoes that were destined to receive my attention.

A latex mask is always part of my uniform and today I was given a mask that I cannot recall having worn before. My new persona had a small round mouth, good sized eye and nose holes, and for the first time in many sessions the mask became my identity for the remainder of my hours in the presence of my Mistress.

Mistress had obtained yet another new butt plug and brought it out from behind the curtain saying. ‘There you go, unwrap it slave’. It was about the size and shape of a large pear and I was instantly instructed to bend over to receive it. Maggie doesn't do gratuitous violence and pain, well not too often anyway, and try as we might the grenade just wouldn't even get a small penetration inside my bum-hole. People often say that things have gone pear shaped but the phrase somehow doesn't apply to my anal cavity. Many attempts to insert were tried but we were getting no nearer, and after a couple of expletives about the failings of my anus Mistress reverted to my trusty red ribbed invader; a little longer and thinner in girth but most importantly, more streamlined at the tip. Mistress was right to try the bigger plug, she is always right in her actions, but it seems my butt is more accustomed to a pointier style of plug and is not for changing yet. I always cause problems for Maggie and I am so relieved that she still puts up with this slave, imperfections and all.

I was soon snugly covered in my tight plum coloured catsuit and ready once more to become whatever my owner wanted her slave to become. Maggie had been drinking heavily since I arrived, only water of course as Mistress never consumes anything that would impair her impeccable judgement. I think that luxury may be reserved for her quiet time at weekends. Anyway, it came as no surprise when Mistress finished yet another glass of water and I was sent off to the bathroom for a refill. As I knocked and re-entered the Chambers, I was stopped at the door, instructed to drink the contents of the glass and return with another refill. Ah, part of my forewarned fuelling process. Fill, return, knock, consume and repeat twice more.

Next I was being transformed into a toilet for Mistress, being zipped into the toilet hood that is a good snug fit to reduce spillage and then snapped into position inside the toilet chamber. I was quite comfortable looking like a turd in the toilet pan, my hands were lightly roped to the eyelets on the legs of the loo giving me a little leeway to move them to the side of the seat. Gazing through the small aperture I had the occasional glimpse of my Mistress busying herself for utilising her toilet. I was just happy that Maggie was allowing me to be of service in this way.

The last time I was down the pan Mistress had closed the lid and left me for quite a while  contemplating my fate and I was also much more tightly bound and restrained. Today as Mistress sank into her most comfortable position I got a glorious view of her most beautiful derrière as it slowly descended, eclipsing most of the light. A stern warning was delivered to me, reminding me that I must consume every last drop and her toilet slave was ready and very eager for my duties.

The freedom in my wrists allowed me to put my hands in hers and with a gentle squeeze let my Mistress know that her toilet was ready, and so the first few drops emerged. There was just enough light to gaze on that magnificent trickle as it made its way to my open mouth, I could adjust my position so the stream that followed was directed straight through the small hole, round my U-bend gullet and eagerly be disposed of in the recycling plant. As Maggie released stream after stream I did detect the slightest of squeezes to my hands and that satisfying moan that is only created when a full bladder is gradually emptied. All the while I needed to remain alert as to where the next stream would flow, as each one was slightly different. How one beautifully petite Mistress could supply such volume yet in such a controlled manner, beggars belief; one of the many and wonderfully unexplained mysteries of the universe.

A few final drops seeking release down her slave had Mistress sitting down again and soon she had rid herself of the last remnants of water. I so wished I could be her bidet, flicking out my tongue to clean those last few drops away. Not permitted. I could look but not touch those private Mistress parts.

I was released and cleaned, a very full and content slave. Mistress still dressed in the splendid rubber outfit I had witnessed on first arriving then guided me to one side of the room and insisted I have a large whiff of aroma. Then, totally unexpected, she draped herself over the horse in that lithe sexy way that only my Mistress knows and made the most sensual hip movements with her latex covered bottom right before my very eyes. Maggie knows I cannot resist stroking her bottom and had deliberately set a test to see exactly how long I could resist the temptation. I moved forward and gently and very lovingly stroked that most remarkable undulating landscape. Maggie laughed. ‘5 seconds slave. You lasted a whole 5 seconds before you stroked my bottom’. Fortunately Maggie does occasionally allow me this liberty and accepted my touches with good humour.

Moving into the clinic, Maggie had me strapped securely on the couch in rapid time. You might believe Mistress had performed this on many occasions! My cock and balls were released from their latex prison and held on firm display with a leather harness that latched onto my slave collar, and a rubber tube gag was pushed into my mouth. Maggie produced a template and explained how her design would be marked on my exposed cock to form the blue print for her next piece of artistry.  ‘. . .  your cock will be decorated with needles where the marks are shown and the end of your cock will be closed off. . . .’

Now I was starting to be a little concerned because the fluid I had been told to drink earlier was now taking its toll, I could feel the peeing urge rising deep down in my stomach. My balls were neatly wrapped out of the way and Maggie proceeded with her plan; marking out her design and pushing in her needles. I could hear the needles being snapped free from their packaging and it felt like Maggie was applying sutures to my cock as well, as it happened that was not the case, but after each needle had been inserted it was twisted 180 degrees before jabbing me for a second time, an action that caused considerable pinching. As I lay there, I realised that I had guessed wrong and I would not be receiving the anticipated catheter.

Gradually the end of my cock was being sealed and that meant that my pee would be restricted. Maybe I would be left with some ability to discharge the fluids that had built up in my bladder? I hoped so because that familiar urge to relieve myself was now fast becoming a more desperate need. Another wrong anticipation!

Mistress had thoughtfully deposited more of her nectar into an enema bag and was now wheeling it towards me on the drip stand. Carefully picking up her pipes it was attached to my tube gag and being pumped into my mouth. When half of it was drunk I had to shamefully decline her fluids, not because I didn't desire more of that heavenly liquid but I had a big fear of embarrassing myself in the Clinic. I was so desperate to pee and it wasn't helped at all by Maggie frequently massaging my abdomen with her rubber gloved hands. I could just see that glint in her eyes as she stroked and asked 'innocently' if I needed to relieve myself.

Maggie insisted there would be no toilet visits for her patient until her needlework and cord work round my balls were finished to her satisfaction. It may have sounded like I was hooting down my tube gag, but by this time I was pleading with Mistress Maggie to go to the loo. Finally satisfied with her artwork, she released the straps and helped me gingerly off the couch. I was escorted towards the bathroom with the leather harness dangling between my legs.

During the slow waddle to that smallest of rooms, we both agreed that due to the unforeseen nature of what was about to happen it would be wise for me to pee in the bath.

As I stood in the bath I was experiencing that feeling of pleasure just before you relieve yourself. The anticipation of that stream releasing the pressure in your bladder; ah the delights of a good, long, bladder emptying pee. I wonder if Maggie got that same pleasurable feeling before relieving herself in her willing toilet?

I waited intently for permission from Mistress. ‘ Right, you'd better pee then slave.’ I felt that initial sense of relief as I felt my bladder start to empty then. . . nothing. Maggie had done her damnedest to make it difficult for me and what I thought may be a restricted slow flow turned out to be no flow at all.

What a frustration. No matter how hard I tried to pee, nothing. By now I was aware that Mistress had used needles to seal the end of my cock, and thankfully not sutures, but the effect was the same. Although I couldn't see the results of my abortive pee attempt, I imagine my foreskin would be expanding like a balloon with all that pee pressure building behind. It must have been a really pathetic specimen that stood before his Mistress. I couldn't pee. I was most uncomfortable and I have to be honest, I begged Maggie to let me have the simple delights of relief. Just a few drips had seeped out and trickled in a a very small pool in the bath. Mistress was highly amused but at last relented and released her absolute control of my bodily functions. Quickly the two foreskin needles were taken out and then. . . talk about a tsunami. Whereas Mistress Maggie was able to control her flow, my fluids came out uncontrollably, and thank goodness we had taken the decision to have me in the bath, although I did have to paddle in my own puddle of pee.

Another wonderfully unpredictable session with my beautiful owner, Mistress and friend. Long may they continue.