SINS for a Slave

It is no sin to worship a beautiful dominant woman, nor is it a sin to do anything Mistress Maggie wishes, willingly and immediately without question. These are consensual acts of a dominant/subservient slave relationship. Therefore, you may be wondering what SINS I could possibly be revealing and be curious enough to carry on reading my ramblings.

The scene for today’s encounter with my Mistress was teasingly set yesterday evening with the call to worship -

‘Your nurse is sharpening her needles’, said the message.

From this, it was obvious that I was to be stitched up again; not a sin because I have had quite a few needles willingly inserted into various parts of my anatomy, and they were all carried out with my full consent. It is difficult to describe why I want Mistress to do whatever she wishes to her slave, but it boils down to the fact that I feel happiest when I can say that Maggie has finished our sessions in a happier frame of mind then at the start.

I suppose some may consider it a sin that I derive so much pleasure from worshipping the very ground that my owner walks on or even the very glossy PVC boots that I worshipped so diligently at the start of this session, but it isn’t. Today, the shiny white boots received a lot of licking and kissing attention as I attended to all the areas that Mistress instructed, the tip of her crop guiding my tongue to exactly where she wished me to clean. I experienced the thrill of Mistress’s crop being applied ever so gently across my back as I continued to work, anticipating and steeling myself in readiness for any harder strokes from the crop, but they never materialised. The occasional, very gentle touch only aroused me even more, and once again I was being elevated into the space often described as ‘the zone’.

Kneeling in front of my Mistress I had my latex working hood pulled over my face and now felt completely at ease, strangely it enhances my deep feelings and submissive relationship towards my owner. It begins to turn me into Maggie's rubber toy; no identity, nothing apart from ‘slave’. I also appreciated the fact that Maggie lubed up my backside and gently but firmly slipped in my own red plug. What nearly caught me by surprise was Mistress's request for me to recite my slave promise to her. I had not recited it recently, I stumbled a little and was a little hesitant, particularly with the part about others to join her in servitude, as Mistress is now semi retired and I know she no longer entertains new slave applications.

For reference, my slave vow to my Mistress is:

I promise that I will do my best:

To love my Mistress,

To serve my Mistress,

To help others to join my Mistress in slavery,

To keep the Mistresses Law.

and

To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question.

I always try to be faithful to this promise.

It certainly wasn't a sin to accept a real privilege that’s only occasionally granted by Mistress. I was offered the opportunity to caress and worship her latex covered derriere which immediately had a massive effect on my cock. Although it did restrict access to both buttocks somewhat, I shrewdly decided that an approach from the side would be the safest approach to offer my services, approaching her from the rear with a raging hard-on may well have appeared disrespectful. That may well have counted as a sin! Perhaps next time, and hopefully there will be a next time, I will have the confidence to kneel behind Maggie and perform as her slave and not a horny hot blooded subject! Thank you Maggie for that rare luxury.

By now, my butt plug had warmed up my arsehole and was ready to be replaced with something a bit bigger; an electro plug. Maggie used a stout latex harness to keep it in place. True to her meticulous nature, the straps were tightened to a very snug fit and adjusted so that they were mirrored on both sides. Despite the fact that the rubber harness would eventually be covered by two layers of latex, the symmetry epitomises Maggie’s insistence on perfection wherever possible.

I was to be dressed in two thick rubber layers, the first layer being my own Invincible catsuit, and I hope that I was able to pleasantly surprise Mistress by being able to climb into the garment unaided. The reflection I saw in the Playroom mirror was that of a big black rubber plaything, a completely anonymous one that was ready to please. I quickly received the second rubber layer that had been patiently hanging from the overhead, and this time I did need assistance in sliding into the single legged body bag. 

There was just sufficient movement between my feet to allow me to waddle, penguin style, through to the Clinic. As always, Mistress who is always amused to see me waddling, was close by to ensure I didn’t fall. Fortunately I have performed this activity before and was quite stable. I was instructed to be careful not to stand on the trailing electric cable as Maggie would be furious if I were to pull my butt plug out.

Once in the clinic I waddled to the centre of the latex covered couch and gently eased myself into exactly the right position. I have had good training in achieving this. Once comfortable, I was delighted that Mistress had chosen the panoramic gas mask for me to wear which, as its name implies gives excellent vision of Mistress and all of her Clinic. It also accommodates easy fixing of the aromas pump hose which proved to be a vital accessory as the session progressed.

Mistress entertained herself by putting some power into my butt plug, she was somewhat surprised that I wasn’t screaming my arse off when she ramped up the electrics to their max of 99 on the dial. To me my ass stimming was not excessive, but nicely noticeable, but Maggie thought it best to lower the dial, just in case at some stage it would please her to surprise me with the full belt of level 99 again!

Before we had hopped into the Clinic, Mistress had taken the precaution to line up the nipple zips in both suits so she had easy access to my nipples when their time for torment arrived. I was securely strapped to the couch, Mistress pulled on each strap with considerable strength, ensuring they were as tight as possible. My exposed nipples had a pair of simple white nipple clips applied to them, I knew they were there but not producing a cruel torment, just a dull ache and I guessed there may be something worse to follow! And now the part of the training that I was made aware of. The suturing of my cock and balls into one of Maggie's mangina creations. ‘I won’t be creating anything too elaborate today’, she said, ‘but I want my suturing to be the tidiest I have ever done’.

A scene was set, the couch was raised to an ideal working height, a white aseptic field arranged around my operation zone, my genitals sponged with disinfectant and I was treated to a full narrative of events as my nurse became busy with her needles. Maggie counted ‘one, two, three’, before starting a new suture which went on to be pulled tight and knotted four times. ‘I'll make sure these won’t be coming out in a hurry’, she said.

It was at this point that I was pleased the aromas pump hose was being put to excellent use, because the nine stitches I received were accompanied by the same number of good puffs of the pump. The affect of these particular aromas was my ability to relax into the needle pricks. A slight wince occasionally, but I think Mistress was pleased with how she was able to sew up the area with no interruptions from a struggling slave. Again, the care that is taken with a patient in this environment was evident, because Maggie wore a facemask to minimise giving her slave her cold, in fact she had worn it for most of our session.

It turned out that Maggie had been thinking about the next phase for a couple of years, and today was the day I was yet again given the privilege of being her Guinea Pig for another of her fiendish ideas. To facilitate this devious plan my headgear needed to be changed, off came the panoramic gas mask, the inflatable hood with its built in anaesthesia mask took its place and was duly inflated. Headphones supplied me with music, I was a blind Guinea Pig too, as this hood doesn’t have eye holes. The ONLY way air could get in and out was through the front anaesthesia port, and this was soon attached to the two green rebreather bags that I had seen quietly waiting nearby.

I hope by now that my training allows me to breathe slowly and steadily, in this situation it didn’t take long before I got into the rhythm and was ready for a prolonged rebreathe session. In… Out… In … Out. I could sense when I was taking in fresh air because I needed to apply far more suction, and so far Mistress was happy that everything was working swimmingly.

Maggie took tremendous joy in swapping the relatively harmless nipple clips for a pair with a nasty bite, I sensed that she was doing some adjustment to the breathing bags, perhaps restricting the flow further by partially closing the taps, when in fact she was attaching the breathing bags to my nipple clamps with short pieces of string. From there on, each time I breathed out something happened to my nipples! Mistress did allow me a couple of breaks from the rebreathing by unplugging the bags, but I really had no idea what was happening as I still couldn’t see a thing.

The picture shows exactly what Mistress had achieved and why the heading to the blog:

SINS - Self Inflicted Nipple Stretching.

Every time I breathed out, the rebreather bags inflated and stood straight out from the mask, pulling my poor nipples upwards via the two strings. Breathe in and the bags deflated releasing the tension on the nipple clamps. Although a bit Heath Robinson’ish Mistress was very proud of the results, she mentioned afterwards that I could be the subject of future SINS once her devious experiment has been refined. Oh how I look forward to that pleasure!

Satisfied with the SINS, Maggie moved on to a little more electric stimulation. The sensation in my butt plug began gradually rebuilding again and I could feel electric pads being stuck on my balls, where my cock used to be. Pulsing and stimulation was the order of play for the next two or three musical tracks. Maggie then cleared the area so she could apply a copious amount of cool gel to my mangina and using her Doppler machine she listened carefully to my sutured area. There were a series of audible beeps coming from the wand . . .  ‘ That’s the sound of your encased cock straining to get out’, she mused. She wasn’t wrong, I was feeling very frustrated by this stage.

And then all hell broke loose in my nipples. I let out a scream and begged Maggie to stop, Stop, STOP!  I thought Maggie had applied an even worse fiendish method of ‘stimulating’ my nips. The irony was that she hadn’t added anything, it was the removal of the clamps that caused the excruciating pain. After Mistress explained this I was able to breathe through the diminishing pain and the session began reaching a natural conclusion.

My hood was finally removed and Mistress was dealing with my sutures. I asked if next time she removes stitches, perhaps she would be kind enough to allow me a few more puffs of the aromas. I know I’d been warned that they wouldn’t be coming out in a hurry, but the discomfort associated with the stitch removal was far worse than their insertion.

I believe Mistress Maggie ended the session in a good frame of mind and happier than at the start. If that is the case my job has been successful. I certainly left with a smile on my face as Maggie suggested I need to check that all stitches were actually out. Only a tease, of course they were and I returned home a very happy bunny that I had experienced SINS!.