Bronze Age Slave

I suspect there may be the odd raised eyebrow when I say that once again another Friday the 13th session had been arranged with Mistress Maggie. Unlike some people I do not suffer from triskaidekaphobia, in fact I have no qualms about the number 13 whatsoever. I love my Friday sessions with Mistress and have done since I took my first steps into her Chambers. I remember my routine then; at the end of the working week, leave work at lunchtime, stop in at the services on the M61, have a shower and tidy up to look presentable for my Mistress then make my way to the Chambers at exactly 14:30. Statistically, because I love Friday sessions and have a need to attend regularly, the chances of sessions on Friday 13th are at worst 50:50 and on the many occasions when they have occurred, I have found them nothing but pure pleasure and delight.

Today was more memorable than just another Friday 13th. It has been eight years this month, almost to the day, since that first journey down the Motorway and Maggie wanted to celebrate our achievement with a bottle of bubbly. It was not the first celebratory day that Maggie had had this week, as by coincidence another of her lucky acolytes had celebrated his 8 years of servitude yesterday with a similar toast. I am highly unlikely to meet the fortunate fellow as Maggie is incredibly discreet, but if you are reading this, I do salute your fortunate introduction to the best of the best.

Our jamboree got underway as soon as the door to the Chambers gently closed behind me. Mistress attached her lead to my slave collar and pressed an aroma soaked cloth over my airways with instructions to ‘Inhale. Deeply’. An unexpected and very pleasant introduction that had me heading to heaven even before ascending the stairway. I could feel myself relaxing and once more starting my journey into total and complete adoration and obedience. It produced a far more erotic ascent as I followed Maggie’s wonderful latex skinned derrière up the stairs. Whether it was the aromas or the fact that I simply had the most beautiful latex rear inches from my face, but I really wanted to plant a big kiss on her inviting cheeks, however Maggie did not offer me that opportunity and continued walking, slowly and steadily leading me to the Playroom.

Still in all my outdoor clothes I was told to lie on the bed until Mistress returned, which allowed me the pleasure of admiring Maggie's new latex quilt and I was left there in luxurious latex comfort, bemused yet happy as she left the room. Mistress soon reappeared with what I now know was the ice bucket and bubbly. After some questions about the contents of my perv bag I was told that I should be wearing a lot of latex and was given two minutes to present a fully rubbered version of myself, and be ready to worship Mistresses satin boots. I know I took a little longer than two minutes, but not too much longer. It was a compromise between the time and needing to present myself in an acceptable fashion to my Mistress.

Standing up with my arms outstretched I was buffed up and brought to a high polish by Maggie and her Mr Sheen, then down on my knees to complete the obligatory worship of Mistress’ tiny pixie styled boots.

There are certain other essential procedures that Mistress likes to perform on her slave and the first is to fill one of my orifices by inserting a plug. Delving into my perv bag I hunted for my butt plug. Being in a very relaxed and somewhat flippant mood I extracted the plug with a flourish and flamboyant gesture similar to a Harry Potter spell. I chanted ‘Insertio buttpluggio!!!’ That amused Mistress, and though her plan was to open me up first with something a bit larger, ultimately 'Insertio buttpluggio' resulted in my trusty red plug ending up in its natural home.

I can be pretty useless as a slave but on this occasion I managed to bring a surprised smile to my owners beautiful lips. Maggie's voice had a troubled tone as she invited me to open the bubbly. ‘Be very careful, don’t let the cork shoot out . . . don’t  make another hole in my ceiling . . . !’ Her concern was very understandable, as looking up I could see a sizeable patched up hole in the ceiling, made by a roofers boot who had accidentally slipped and put his foot through it during recent renovations to the Chambers. Better hold onto that cork then!

Luckily I have learned the knack for such occasions and have found that by removing the foil and placing the palm of my hand firmly over the top of the cork, unravelling the metal fastening and then gently rotating the cork while keeping very firm pressure on my palm, rather than shooting out it eases out with the gentlest of hisses as the gas seeks its own freedom. A barely audible sound and et voila! - one very pleased, relieved and somewhat surprised Mistress.

I can think of no better way of celebrating a marvellous event than bringing a surprised smile to my Mistress, sipping bubbly, smiling and laughing with a very beautiful, latex clad rubber goddess. I was only allowed one flute as I drive to Chambers and Maggie is always looking after her slaves' welfare, similarly Mistress only had one, as she remains in full control in more ways than one throughout our training.

I would never have dreamt of one day being a bronze age slave, however, the traditional name for an 8th anniversary is a bronze anniversary, where bronze represents strength and durability. Well, I had just managed to demonstrate to my bronze age Mistress that I had both of those attributes by proudly opening the champagne without the cork exploding.

It appeared as though my drinking bout was only just beginning, as the rubber ruff from the toilet seat was attached round my neck and I was ordered to slide underneath the toilet box. It was then only a short procedure to connect my rubber collar to the perspex seat, attach wrist cuffs to the toilet box legs and I was ready to receive whatever Mistress wished to deposit in my direction.

I lay there very comfortable, the neck collar providing a wonderful support, along with a superb view as Mistress with her swaying ponytails looked down the pan at her waiting toilet slave. Her hand reached down and pressed an anaesthetic mask loaded with an intoxicating dose of aromas, tightly over my face. As I drifted deeper into my very aroused pleasure zone I could hear Mistress unzip her crotch zip and the room went darker as the most glorious image started to eclipse the rest of the world. From thereon all I could concentrate on was trying to line up my mouth with where I anticipated the steady flow of nectar would be delivered.

Being so close to Mistresses private parts I must remember to know my place. Definitely do not get any closer to that beautiful area, just gaze and wait for her champagne. I didn't have long to wait before the first few droplets became visible in the half light of the toilet bowl. I adjusted, took my mouthful and swallowed. Mistress knows this slaves drinking habits and as if by magic the flow stopped as she waited to hear me swallow and then another gentle trickle, another mouthful and so it went on for several delightful mouthfuls of a much tastier celebratory drink.

I am not sure if the next mouthful was by design and Mistress was just wanting to teach her slave what a tsunami of fresh nectar was like, but instead of turning the tap off when I closed my lips to swallow, the flow just kept coming and coming. Coughing, spluttering, quickly opening my mouth and swallowing, I tried all ways but I couldn't keep pace with the flow. A few more gallons would have definitely had me drowning in Mistresses fluids. Come to think of it, there are far worse ways to go.

Maggie stood up, tidied her zips and smiled down at a very pee soaked toilet slave, saying ‘Wow, I feel much better now’ and I must admit, so did I. That wasn't quite the end of my drinking celebrations though, as taking another sip from her bubbly Maggie chose to share her drink and aimed her flute so the stream tipped into my open mouth. Some of the bubbly cascaded down my saturated hood and settled in my ears. Whether it is a normal reaction when bubbly meets pee I am really not sure, but all I could hear was a cacophony of bubbly sounds as the bubbles mixed with the nectar. That is an experience I definitely would like to repeat, perhaps at session 200 or our 9 year celebrations if Mistress allows me to continue for that long or any time Mistress wishes to flush out her bladder on a very willing toilet.

I was allowed out of the chamberpot feeling incredibly happy and a little flushed and we cleaned up myself and any spills. I was then bent over to have my butt plug replaced with an inflatable buzzing one, it’s vibrations were steady and continuous, working away deep inside and relentlessly building up more tensions in my lower groin area.

Firmly shackled to the four corners of the bed, Maggie considered it the appropriate opportunity to further celebrate this Bronze Age by deploying her trusty e-stim box. Four electrodes were arranged on my cock and balls and the pulses set to a rhythmic, pulsating twenty on the dial. You can probably guess the next part. I muttered a warning but whether it was lost in the gas mask or Mistress decided it would be fun just to leave the vibrations and pulsations running, nevertheless I was once again forced to ejaculate.

Leaning over me, Mistress either feigned or actually was angry, as a punishment she said she would increase the electrics by the eight years I had been in service. Now that really cleared my sinuses. Just as promised Mistress switched up the power and left me to be punished. I have never experienced such intense sensations and I am pleased that the shackles were more than a match for a slave writhing in agony. I was screaming, begging for mercy and thrashing around like a man possessed. In a way that is exactly what I was. Possessed by the most magnificent person you could wish to be electrocuted by. The gas mask of course muffled the screams and sobs down to mere whimpers but it did sound very loud from inside the mask. I wonder if my balls turned bronze with the e-stim set to 28? .

I loved every minute, bar perhaps those final two! And no, I wouldn't ask for any of it to be changed. I deserved the punishment but I think next time I will try to make sure my balls are empty before arriving to serve my Mistress Maggie. That leaves me with a real dilemma. I know Maggie expects to make me orgasm at times but only when she wants it to happen, when Mistress is in control and if I have deliberately emptied my balls...?

Here's to the Leather anniversary!