Clear Idea

My mind began pondering as soon as I received Mistress’s calling mail on Thursday -

‘Your rubber Mistress has a clear idea that I am busting to carry it out’.

There were many options that I considered relating to her clear idea. Was Mistress going to fill my clear plastic pants with pee or nettles or something equally ‘enjoyable’? Was it the clear inflatable plastic hood that is so clingy and tight once inflated? Was it the clear plastic lenses in one of Mistress Maggie’s sensational hoods?... Then, ‘I am busting to carry it out’ was pretty obvious. I was probably going to be deluged in pee or even be lucky enough to taste a fantastic amount of Maggie’ s golden nectar? I didn’t sleep too well mulling over the many combinations, but eventually drifted off to sleep with a very pleasant erection.

As I made my way to The Chambers for today’s training session I barely gave the options another thought, but when stuck in traffic once more my mind began to wander, this time settling on the dream of being a full time rubber slave to Maggie. However, such a dream soon becomes a nightmare when the reality of such a mammoth change to my life surfaces. 

There are many, many reasons why this will never happen; Mistress has quite categorically stated she does not want/need a full time slave; it takes a LOT of concentration, time and commitment for even our all too brief Friday sessions to be a reality, and the added pressure of a full time d/s relationship on both parties would soon become intolerable. I’d imagine Mistress would tire of my waffling when I could not maintain her high standards 24*7, I have a vanilla life as well that is dear to me… 

Lights change, I’ll come back to this at the next set… I envy those individuals who say they are 24*7 lifestyle slaves but are they being honest? For me, this dream ever being a reality will remain a fantasy, something that will never come to pass and with that realisation I arrive at the chambers door ready to serve my Mistress once more with my whole heart and soul.

Mistress answered wearing what I thought was an incredibly sexy black catsuit. Suitably corrected, the catsuit is PURPLE slave, I did correctly view the black corset belt and shiny black knee length boots. In my defence, entering the cool lighting in the hallway from outside did interfere with my colour perception. It all looked black to me!

I followed Mistress up the stairs, her undulating latex covered cheeks seemingly urging me to give them a kiss, but of course my training prevented such an indiscretion. Instead, it was Mistress’s boots that required the kissing and once in the Playroom I eagerly set to work making them shinier than they had ever been, and once again this was accompanied by Maggie encouraging me with her butterfly crop, a crop renowned for its particularly stingy bite. This provided some amusement as the crop is now well aged and the butterfly kept flying off. What else would you expect from an active butterfly? Naturally, with me already being conveniently on my knees it was my job to retrieve the butterfly, but even with Maggie reducing the strength of her wallops the pesky insect kept trying to fly away. It amused me and Maggie was having a right laugh.

Definitely Purple not black

It didn’t take long for my own red butt plug to be lubed and installed into its temporary accommodation. The satisfying feeling as its last rib slips into place is one I always look forward to and leaves me well filled. The sensation didn’t last long, just sufficient to prepare my bum for its next visitor. This remained a mystery until I’d done a quick shimmy and shake into my working Invincible catsuit. The zip in the appropriate area was then opened sufficiently to allow removal of my plug in exchange for a pair of electric Kegel balls. At Maggie’s request, her husband John had modified some of her electric toys since my last session, each one has its own dedicated cable now, meaning there’ll be no more rooting around to plug them in and eliminating the chance of wires being accidentally pulled out during play. The preparatory stretching with my own plug had obviously worked as the Kegel's offered no resistance as they disappeared deep inside me. A quick test, and yes they worked! 

Reinforcing who is in absolute charge, Mistress ordered me to lie on the bed and once she’d applied shackles to my wrists I was secured to the bed’s corners. Mistress knows that these temporary restraints are not necessary, because had she said, ‘lay still on the bed’, I would have complied without hesitation, but it added to my sense of servitude so I enjoyed being restrained for as long as it took for my crotch zip to be opened a little further and for adhesive electrode pads to be attached, one pair either side of my cock and balls and another pair at the top of my inner thighs. I was surprised with this configuration, I’d been expecting at least one circuit to be pulsing along the length of my shaft, but Mistress knows best and I was happy to go with her chosen flow.

With all the cables collected together, they were pulled through to the outside of my catsuit and the zip pulled up to seal me in. Mistress quizzed me on whether I had guessed what she would be doing with her plaything today, and started to explain the meaning of her calling mail. The ‘clear view’ to which she had referred was a reference to another good wrapping in transparent cling film. I was to be seated on Mistress’s throne, unfortunately without the comfy cushion that Maggie always sits on. That in itself would eventually become a form of torture, because I have learned from past events that prolonged sitting sessions on the Throne can be hard work on the muscles, resulting in a growing discomfort. Oh well, if that is what Mistress wants, so it shall be.

Well, at least the initial discomfort of sitting on the hard wooden throne was ameliorated, as I received some extra latex to wear in the form of a tight hood and a wonderful pair of inflatable mitts. These slipped on easily with a bit of talc but remained deflated for the moment. Maggie now got handy with her cling film rolls with a narrow roll for delicate or hard to film areas and a wide roll for the easier parts.

The initial filming was around my head and neck with the narrow roll avoiding my nose and my mouth, I could see very clearly despite several layers finding their way over my eyes. The wider film was used between my neck and bottom, just above the seat. An unusual addition was the inflatable latex collar which like the mitts was left deflated for now. Mistress, always aware of her slaves wellbeing asked if I was still comfortable on a few occasions. Well, yes as comfortable as the hard chair would permit, certainly the filming was very comfortable.

Maggie raised my feet and began wrapping the narrow film around them, taking time to form it tidily around my toes, the rest of my lower body was attended to with the wider roll right the way up to meet the upper body filming. As you might expect from a very organised Dominatrix, before wrapping my abdomen, Mistress made sure the group of electric cables were considered and a suitable aperture created so they could be threaded through the film to ensure easy attachment to her electric boxes. I could feel my buttocks going a little numb on the hard, unyielding, wooden chair, but I was to become even more intimately joined with it as Mistress picked up her large roll of cling film again and using several layers bound her slave to the chair itself. I became Mistress’s throne, unable to move and a bum that was feeling the pressure, as it happened, in more ways than one.

It is very frustrating to have the electrics ramped up when there aren’t any electrodes attached to your genitals, yet stimulation is being received in immediately surrounding areas; tingling stimulation just to the left of your genitals, tingling stimming just to the right of your genitals, more of the same underneath your balls and the Kegel balls hidden up your bum stimming your insides too, but no direct stimulation of your cock or balls. Mistress really knows how to edge this slave. By now I had my rubber mitts inflated and the rubber collar as well and I was surprised how relaxed and out of control I was feeling.

Maggie, I think, wanted a little fun and offered me the choice of breath play with rubber or plastic. I wish she wouldn’t do that, it means I have to weigh the response. Would she like me to say rubber or film? I chose rubber and out came a roll of rubber bandage. Mistress took her scissors and cut a length from it, just long enough to tie around my film covered head, which immediately removed the last vestiges of free air flow. She had me gasping, but after a short while I discovered that with a little subtle movement of my tongue, I was able to get the merest of air flow and sucked in what little air I could. 

It enabled me to keep going for much longer than Maggie had expected or hoped for. What really kept me going was Mistress’s close proximity, the occasional caress, the increase in electro-stim and the ability to gaze on her beauty when she floated in front of me. I got the impression Mistress was not too enamoured with the lack of breathlessness from her slave, so I was given a second chance to impress her, this time with the help of plastic. My rubber bandage was removed and a single layer of clingfilm was stretched tightly over my face, I had no air available now, but again, after a short time I had managed to make a very small air hole. Afterwards Mistress told me that the film had worked better, however, I had not suffered as much as she’d have liked from this breath play scene.

The electrics were ramped up a few notches and Maggie attended to the film surrounding my latex hood, cutting it away and allowing me some momentary relief. Not too much as my mouth was soon stuffed full with an inflatable tube gag. We were now ready to move on to the next phase, as outlined in her calling mail . . .  ‘Busting to carry it out’.

Mistress had been storing her pee all morning and she produced a bag with a considerable amount of what turned out to be her personal chilled champagne. But what really turned me into a slobbering wreck was the sight of Maggie opening her catsuit zip and depositing another large amount of fresh pee into a strategically placed jug. The sight and sound of my Mistress standing and filling the jug right in front of my eyes had me salivating. Then I watched as she slowly opened the bag of pre prepared pee and added the steaming contents of the jug into the bag. She showed me the bag and there was exactly a litre right in front of my face.

She hung up the bag of pee on a nearby stand, then connecting its outlet tube to my mouth gag I became a sealed recycling unit for Mistress’s pee. I could breathe through my nose and at the same time drink all that was offered. The occasional pump of the bag’s syphoning bulb gave an increase to the flow, not enough to overfill my mouth, but enough to keep me sucking and swallowing. When the pee wasn't being pumped, I took hearty sucks on the contents, eager to empty the 1 litre of pee from the bag. I managed every last drop and it is fair to say I was no longer thirsty!

The cling film that had kept me secured on the chair was now removed, and although still being very much wrapped up like a mummy I was gently helped onto the latex bed where Mistress took off my hood and gave me an S10 gas mask instead. For the second time today I was to lie down and Mistress cut away a hole to extract my cock and balls, she then strung them up on a bondage board and proceeded to cover them in punishing steel clamps. At this point I started to panic.

The stimulation of my cock by the clips, plus the continuous throbbing from the electrics had the contents of my bowels and bladder starting to complain. I really didn’t want to release the litre of consumed pee nor the aforementioned bowel contents into Maggie's Playroom. What a disaster that would be. I really had to beg to be allowed to go to the toilet. 

Understanding the emergency I saw Mistress snipping with her scissors unlike never before, at last I was free from my plastic wrapping and rushing across the landing. And boy did I need to go, but only after I had to removed the cock clamps that Maggie had evilly left in situ. I gingerly removed the Kegel balls, they’d been much easier to insert than extract on this occasion . . .  For all the wrong reasons! I sat for a good ten minutes, most embarrassed that I had to deal with these bodily functions within a stone’s throw of Mistress.

Mistress did have something else that she wished to inflict on her slave but that will wait for next time. Apart from the last 10 minutes of utter shame I had another thoroughly enjoyable experience of serving Mistress Maggie, but I suspect in the near future Maggie will be making sure she gets more satisfaction from her breath-taking activities. 

Thank you Mistress.

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!.

Rubber, Rubber and More Rubber

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