50 of the Best

Yesterday may well go down as the highest recorded temperature ever in the UK and today, although the ambient temperature was a little lower, isolated hot spots were evident in the North West. Specifically it got very heated in The Chambers where Mistress Maggie ramped up the temperature for this rubber devotee, and it certainly looked to be a red hot day as Mistress had instructed me to bring my red rubber wardrobe.

Because of the warmth Mistress allowed me to change in the fan cooled Playroom, then naked apart from my latex socks and gloves I presented myself at the feet of my Mistress and set about worshipping those beautiful legs and long red boots. I always relish the sessions’ start where I can be down on the floor under my Mistresses feet and just paying homage to a wonderful woman. The warmth of the day and the cooling fan which occasionally blew a welcome breeze up my bum, made it a perfectly exciting and highly erotic start.

Mistress stood up from her throne and looking down at me told me to continue my devotion. ‘Front AND back of my boots slave’. She turned around allowing me to access every part. It was so tempting to allow my tongue to stray that little higher; to kiss and lick those alabaster thighs and higher... I can dream but there is nothing currently in the rule book to stop me trying to gently caress those forbidden places with my freshly washed hair. I probably shouldn't have said that and of course it can only happen when I am not hooded!

Ordered onto my hands and knees it was butt plug fitting time, plenty of lube and ... a plastic bag! Holding the plastic bag tightly at my neck with one hand the plug was wiggled, teased and finally pushed into its home with the other. It has been a while since Maggie has allowed me the privilege of gazing at her great beauty as she smiles and watches me reach the inevitable begging stage for air. A lot of pleading and she will let it in before repeating the breathless cycle again. There came a stage where I so wanted to kiss her sultry lips as they were almost touching the plastic, but the need for air overtook my need to kiss and once again I found myself begging. The freshly inserted butt plug became unnoticeable as I breathed in plastic and struggled for air four times in a row. After a couple of shakes of powder on went the red latex catsuit and at that point we adjourned to The Clinic.

Zips opened, legs in the stirrups and ‘further down slave ... get your ass right over the end slave.’ Mistress ordered. As she fitted her strap on Maggie announced that we should celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing. My plug had only been in for ten minutes, but out it came and in went her rocket dildo, very slowly, all the way in until the balls on her strap-on slapped against my arse cheeks.

Mistress handed me a bottle of aroma to blast off on. ’Are you ready for launch slave’ . . . and her rocket thrusts began. ‘ONE’ - A very slow withdrawal until only the tip was in contact. ‘TWO’ . . . ‘THREE’ . . .  This countdown went on until we reached the fifty. On each slow thrust I could gaze in wonderment at the very sexy person taking me to the heavens and beyond and I was well and truly fucked. Mistress in charge, Mistress on top and Mistress dictating the pace and depth of each thrust and I just loved it. I felt another step towards being totally controlled by Wonder Woman.

After all that excitement, Mistress decided a little quiet contemplative time was necessary but not until a little more anal excitement with a rather large and very inflatable dildo. We had a good play with it, but as it was not suitable as a permanent ass fixture, it was a large black plug that was eventually inserted to keep my asshole stretched before Maggie sealed me inside my catsuit and red-roped me to the couch. Nothing too vigorous as it was very hot but enough for me to know my place. In stark contrast to the red, Mistress fitted a black gas mask and cleverly sealed the whole lot with the open faced mask. Maggie attached the re-breather bag, making certain I was able to accept the restricted air flow before casting me into the darkest of nights with the bug-eye blindfolds. With the headphones playing a monotonous and all enveloping track of white noise I had no idea what would happen next.

There I stayed and had no concept of time. All I did was dream highly erotic and very lurid dreams about the most sensual, sexually stimulating and sensational Mistress a slave could wish for. I had visions of a goddess in latex just looking down on her loyal yet totally subjugated subject. Thinking about the sensual situation I was in, the good fucking Mistress had just treated me to and the wildly lurid dreams I was having made the next action inevitable. All Mistress did was drape one of her rubber operating sheets over my exposed cock and try as I might to prevent embarrassment, I blurted out 'I'm coming Mistress,' and without further ado messed on the underside of the rubber sheet.

Mistress wasn't at all pleased that I had created extra washing, though whizzing off the headphones and whispering through the hoods she asked if I wanted to go on. Being such a hot day it seemed an appropriate time to stop for a drink of water before continuing my training with a spot of ball stretching. Maggie said that for a bit of light relief and amusement she’d planned to stretch my balls, but was happy to alter things to deal with the new circumstances. I had made my own bed and I would have to settle for lying in it, and because I had climaxed without consent I needed to be punished!

Hmmm! Perhaps choosing to continue was not one of my brightest decisions, but I knew I had upset the flow of the prolonged rubber deprivation and opting out just wasn't fair on Mistresses enjoyment. Out came a myriad of devices; rubber bands, metal ball weights, straps, more red rope and probably a whole host of other tackle that Maggie was going to tackle my tackle with.

Maggie is not sadistic, well at least not all of the time and she did allow me the comfort of a latex pillow to ease any strain on my calves. However, she showed little mercy on the pitiful cock and balls that had so misbehaved.

I of course saw none of this but could feel a lot of activity down below. I could feel my balls being attached to the H-frame. I could sense by Maggie’s voice that she meant business and I could tell I was in for a punishing time. Yet the worst stretching was still to come. The rebreather was reattached, the white noise turned back on and I was returned to the totally deprived state I had experienced earlier, and once again I was left to contemplate my exceptional Mistress. This time, subdued by the unplanned orgasm the dreams were less raunchy and somewhat overridden by the distress of my poor empty balls. Tightly restricted they were really being stretched and punished to say the least, lucky for me I have not had the pleasure of too much post orgasm torture but can tick it off my list of training experiences now!

Eventually Maggie relented and deciding that enough was enough, she removed the masks and adjusted the couch so that I was in a sitting rather than a lying position. I suspect that Mistress knew the action of sitting me up would tighten the ropes and stretch my cock and balls even more because she giggled that wonderfully girlish giggle as if to say, ‘That bit worked then’. One by one she started to remove my cock and ball jewellery. She examined my tackle and declared just the right ball colour; a slight blueish tinge and ready for freedom.

I am glad I had the balls to agree to continue the session after cumming unannounced. I really needed to be punished for my indiscretion and I have a lot of training still to do on orgasming to Mistress Maggie’s command. This possibly was Mistresses lesson and the hardest to avoid orgasm. I mean, a good bagging, fifty satisfying moon landings, a lot of isolation etc. what can a red blooded male do?

A History Lesson

Sometimes I wonder why Mistress Maggie puts up with such a simple soul. I was excited about a new pair of latex trousers I had recently bought for myself, and when I rang to confirm the appointment I was pleasantly surprised. Mistress told me to wear the trousers to arrive at the Chambers saying that she was looking forward to the fashion show where I would have chance to display my new garments to her. It didn’t sound too tricky, I know I am not an ideal fashion model but surely I could manage that. Hastily I packed my normal clothes and donned the trousers and a latex shirt ready for the enjoyable drive to see my owner.

The look and feel of the trousers certainly put a smile on my face as I sauntered between my car and the Chambers, but nowhere near as big a smile that erupted as Mistress opened the door, greeting me with a simply breathtaking sight. In her highest heels Mistress was standing tall, her beautifully shiny tights seeming to make her legs endless, but my broadest smile was elicited by the black latex teddy and waist nipper she was wearing accentuated by her radiant smile. She appeared pleased to see her humble and faithful servant and I was welcomed in.

Off with my coat Mistress moved her hands over my latex shirt and we had a mini fashion parade right there in her hallway, that broadened her smile even more. Then we wasted no time ascending to The Playroom where there was much more space. Mistress took a seat ready for the show and I was instructed to parade my new trousers and explain the many features and benefits of my new garments.

All I could muster was an inane comment about ‘how nice they feel’; nothing about their fit or style, nothing about the considerable number of pockets that were perfectly formed; nothing about the easy cleaning or functional zip incorporated in the garment, but just. 'They are nice to wear'. I am not surprised that Mistress was unamused by the show and probably verging on yawning. Sometimes I wonder about my suitability as a slave to my owner and frequently feel sorry for Mistress and relieved that my service hasn't been terminated.

Worship of Maggie's shoes went smoothly, partly due to their glossy patent surface. My tongue glided easily over them and it doesn't take long to cover the surface of both shoes. Meanwhile I listened in as Mistress verbally dished out hints and clues as to what was on today's agenda. Her instruction to ‘Pay good attention to my heels now slave’, interrupted her dialogue and had me quickly alter my position to tackle the task. Insertion into my rubber catsuit was swiftly achieved and I was soon having my hands bound with rope.

With my hands secured up to the ceiling ring there was no way out and anything could happen, maybe Mistress was intent on continuing my nipple training? But no, it was the unmistakeable noise of rustling plastic that gave her plan away and I quickly prepared for some challenging breathing. ‘This is a more reliable way of entertaining me slave’, she said as the plastic bag was pulled over my head, and indeed her beaming smile did reappear as my vision became misted. A second bag was put over the top and after some twisting at the neckline a securing clip was applied. Mistress moved around me although I could vaguely see her and all I could do was lessen my breaths until I could last no more, breathing so deeply that the plastic filled my mouth and I pleaded for air. Maggie waits until I am genuinely pleading before giving me what I most need, it is an intense experience and I am massively relieved when the air returns.

Perhaps today was the day Mistress gets rid of her slave? All it would take would be to leave the bags in place for a little longer. Maggie to smile that wonderful smile as my air runs slowly out and . . . fortunately not today.

After a few more very pleasant and breathless double bagging moments Maggie relented and retrieved the low padded bench, indicating for me to kneel lengthwise ready for some bum fun. ‘Slave, you need to be stretched for the new and interesting thrills I have waiting for you’, and before I knew it four large anal beads accompanied by lots of lube were disappearing eagerly into their cave – plup – plup – plup – plup –

While I wagged my tail and got used to the size of stuffing in my rear, Maggie put one of her larger strap-ons on and offered it to me for inspection, then disappearing behind me she began toying with my beads, pulling them out and pushing them home again until eventually they all plopped out and were put to one side.

Unfortunately, inserting the larger strap-on dildo didn't go quite so well. I had taken this strap-on before and although it initially slid home Mistress could tell by the noises I was making that it was uncomfortable and slid it right out again. Usually widening my legs allows easy access, but the narrow bench restricted my movement. The real problem was predominately down to my knees and how my considerable weight was resting on their wonkiest parts.

After a little chat Maggie decided that the treatments she had intended for my ass were best enjoyed on another day. Once again I had disappointed my Mistress and forced her to abandon that part of my training plan. Oh I do wish for better knees and to be able to satisfy my Mistress every time she wishes to gain rear entry, but despite a good dose of aromas, I let her down again.

An inarticulate response to the earlier question, plus a poor response to what should have been a very pleasant mount had me feeling an altogether rather pathetic slave, and I would have understood if that double plastic bagging had gone on and on . . .

Normally Maggie's lesson plans are innovative and unique. They may include reinforcing elements from earlier sessions but generally they are all refreshingly new. However, Mistress was keen to make part of the training a history lesson today. Not 1066 and all that but modern history, something her slave could directly relate to from a formative period of my life. To that end Maggie reminisced on a much earlier session that we had done together way back in November 2011, how I had been restrained to her chair with no chance of escape, my balls tethered to a broom handle below it. How I had been reduced to breathing through tubes and plunged into darkness beneath the sensual rubber sheet with my genitalia subjected to unstoppable electric sensations. Her idea was to set about replicating that little part of our history and I could vividly remember the scene she was speaking of.

I've been here before!

It could not be an exact replica as I had not even purchased my rubber catsuit at that time, but near enough. Mistress has redecorated the room during those intervening seven years, a gas mask and hose was used instead of nostril tubes giving me greater visibility, the poppers delivery is new, but all in all this was about the feeling of history. What is the same is my continued devotion to my perfect Mistress, in fact, that has changed and deepened in those seven years. My only aim now is to bring pleasure to Maggie and enjoy all my training.

Even the electrics have changed a little over time. Maggie is happier to ramp up the levels now that I am trained to to her personal liking, but the mechanism remains as I remember it. Mistress Maggie's throne hasn't changed. The hole in the centre is ideally placed for attaching tied up balls to the long broom handle as they were once again today. The bondage mitts drawing me forward against the tight leather restraints that kept me secured, probably more so than I was those seven years ago.

What didn't happen seven years ago was the method Mistress used to mock and manipulate my cock. Today she joked about it being mouselike by hiding in the hole. Actually that hole in the throne is quite large, but I must admit that all the downward pressure on my tightly roped balls does have the tendency to make my cock disappear. No amount of coaxing could tease the mouse out.

Maggie was doing a lot of rummaging inside the hole trying to find my mouselike cock, and when she did she caught it, immediately tagging it with a pair of handy electrodes and setting the stimulation levels sufficiently to have her slave jerking around.

Deja Vu!

A final inspection of her slave was completed before the lights went out. Checking out my breathing hose Mistress chose to extend it so it would not snag on my suit and cause sudden air loss. Mistress doesn't countenance accidental suffocation and her attention to safety hasn't changed in all the years I have known her, and once the second hose was attached she had absolute control over her slaves’ breathing.

And then it went black.

When I saw this image I recognised the familiar territory. It is amazing how the rubber sheet totally eliminated all light, as black as the depths of a coal mine, though a much more sensual place to be. As my time under the sheet went by my environment became warmer and filled up with the arousing rubber scent with only the sound of my breaths to keep my company. I knew my Mistress was in close proximity, I could neither see nor hear her but I could sense her presence.

Which is just as well because eventually I could feel my left hand starting with pins and needles then starting to go numb. Mistress always insists that her subjects report any discomfort, assesses the problem and where appropriate, as in this case, leaps in to sort it out. Oh I do wish that I had mentioned that wrist binding was a fraction tight when applied, but at the time I was just wanting to please.

I could have stayed in the dark forever had it not been for that useless wrist and once again I started wondering how Mistress tolerates such a decrepit specimen. And that is where the history lesson ended and that is how the perception of history can be changed through a small yet important change in the details.

I truly had no idea what Maggie’s intentions had been for her golden fluids, but following the abandonment of earlier plans when my wonky knees had curtailed my anal escapades, Mistress was left with an uncomfortably full bladder. Disappearing momentarily into the Clinic she returned with a steel bowl which conveniently fitted into the aperture on the seat of the bondage chair. There, right in front of me her crotch zip was opened, then looking me straight in my eyes her majesty sat down and released her long lasting stream of nectar into the bowl. The gentle tinkle as it caressed the stainless steel was magical and so was the flavour. The bowl and its fresh, warm contents were placed at Maggie's feet and with the merest of nod I knew exactly what was expected. I knelt forward to lap it up.

Maggie had been using me as a foot rest while I had been finishing up my drink and not a drop was wasted. Oh my, the taste of fresh Mistress is divine! Actually at last I think that may have pleased Mistress Maggie, because I was ordered to roll over like a good dog and out came the Hitachi wand complete with a nobbly cock sleeve. Mistress played with her dog with great gusto, imposing her will for one final time in this most rewarding of history lessons by forcing an orgasm from her slave.

A happy yet messy conclusion for this little mouse? dog? slave!

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.

Chorley

Chorley, a quiet friendly Lancashire town is situated on the main West Coast main line, but more crucially it’s just a direct bus ride from Mistress Maggie's Chambers.

There was barely a ripple of interest from the Chorlians as I walked dutifully behind my Mistress with only the occasional glance at the slave collar I was proudly wearing. Hardly surprising really, because I was with a very beautiful friend who naturally attracts admiring glances. One or two may have been envious of my status, who wouldn't be, however, I did have two encounters with the locals concerning my collar. I have more to share about those encounters later along with an explanation as to why we found ourselves in Chorley.
I was really excited about the direction Mistress was to take for today's session, as she had made it quite clear in the calling mail that ‘. . . you should arrive in a roomy pair of trousers, and I can confirm that my intentions are to dominate you outdoors for part of your session. Ensure that you are also well hydrated when you arrive . . .’

In a previous session we had talked about how it would be a real buzz for me to be taken out in my latex suit, with my bum plugged and a catheter deployed. A scenario which looked like it was about to happen from the words in the calling mail, and I became both nervous and excited that Mistress might trust me with such a duty. However, when I contacted Mistress to say I’d be arriving for my session soon, what I thought was certain became rather more doubtful '. . . Wear a black short sleeve t shirt and black latex shorts to arrive . . . We’re not going out in the car.'

As always, I could rely on my Mistress to keep me guessing!

It was another very warm summer day and I arrived at The Chambers in the black latex clothes I had been instructed to wear with my baggy trousers on top. My latex shorts were already feeling quite moist. Even if we were to venture out in Mistresses husbands car, I would certainly need a plastic membrane to protect my seat, a thought that turned out to be quite unnecessary.

It had been obvious from the moment Maggie opened the door that I was likely in for a treat, as she had her piss pants on and I was hoping I knew where their contents would end up. With my outdoor clothes stripped away I set about worshipping Mistresses thigh length, black leather boots and I really tried not to be distracted by the rubber drain tube that was dangling between them. My butt plug was to be inserted next; Mistress has done a really good job of stretching my bum and the large red plug slid in easily before I was 'walked' on my lead, via the toilet to The Clinic.

I received the system mask, then strapped to the couch I was prepared for catheterisation. The catheter went in so quickly that I was amazed when Maggie said I was now plugged at both exits and had already begun tidying up her used sterile items ready for disposal.

Mistress showed less haste when is came to throwing the plastic drape away though and decided to tease her patient with it instead. As I lay there Maggie placed the drape over my nose, it has the kind of intoxicating plastic smell that any true plastic fetishist simply cannot resist. My natural instinct was to breath deeply on its strong and wonderful aroma, making it way too easy for Maggie to suffocate her slave with the drape. I was helpless and could be teased until I was quite breathless. The opening lines of 'Take my breath Away' floated into my head as Maggie continued to enjoy her plaything.

A breath through gag was then attached to the system mask; one which is ideal for drinking through. I had done as I was told and arrived well hydrated, even so I was about to receive considerably more liquid refreshment! Mistress is really thoughtful in her delivery. The nectar isn't released all at once, a good thing because the flow Maggie is capable of producing could totally overwhelm a slave, not to mention probably drown him. A good healthy head of fluid was visible in her piss pants and Mistress regulated the flow of my piss drink to a sensible level. Suffice is to say, I had a wonderful long drink of Mistress’ fresh, rehydrating fluids.

Mistress then uncovered another surprise. ‘A rubber catheter bag slave. It can be worn inside or outside your trousers. Which do you want?’

I was starting to question my bottle and stammered ‘inside please’. The leg bag was brand new and after a little surgery to shorten the drain tube it was strapped to my left thigh. Once the clamp was removed I experienced that familiar feeling of trickling pee. I had absolutely no control of when to pee and that was a little disconcerting! After a few adjustments Maggie thought it better to tape the exit tap closed to prevent any accidental leakage and the final question concerned what I should wear. Although I was confident about wearing the latex t-shirt in public the amount of sweat it had already generated was a bit of a concern. Mistress would have a very wet slave by the end of the journey so we settled on normal clothes and my slave collar and we were ready to depart.

‘We are going to catch the bus to Chorley.’ Mistress announced. A good ride of almost an hour, and once we had arrived at our destination we could check how much pee had flowed into the latex bag. The bus journey was very pleasant, we sat on the back seat where we talked about a number of perv subjects and other friendly musings, and I gazed at how amazing my Mistress is. All the while I suspected that the bag was gradually filling, but it posed no problems.

By the time we arrived and we stood up to disembark, the catheter bag was definitely feeling more weighty and there was a considerable bulge appearing under my slack trousers. But not to worry, anyone noticing would see a beautiful woman and a bulge in her companions trousers, quite natural really, but I suspected my highly visible slave collar would divert attention.

We sauntered around Chorley market, I bought Mistress a very nice bracelet from one of the local shops and finally walked into a local coffee shop fairly close to the bus station where two coffees were drank at our leisure. The coffee shop was busy with an easy and relaxed environment, although buying a suitable snack proved impossible because they had run out of buns. Mistress and I talked some more and Mistress exchanged some words and a smile with a lady sitting at the next table.

Meanwhile, my rubber cath bag was still filling and creating an even bigger bulge inside my trousers and I was conscious that it might be full. I needed to ask Maggie if I was allowed to use the toilets to attempt to empty it. Mistress gave permission and clear instructions on what I should do and off I trotted, upstairs to find the toilets.

An interesting experience to say the least. I found a cubical, dropped my pants, removed the safety tape from the tap, pointed it down the pan and. . . Whoosh. . . A veritable Tsunami shot down the porcelain. If you have ever filled a balloon with water and then let it go, that is the type of reaction my catheter bag created. It is a good job I had a firm hold of the hose otherwise I could have flooded the whole place with pee.

I returned without the bulge and satisfied that the catheter and bag worked a treat. There is nothing a slave can do once catheterised but trust the equipment. You can't stop the flow, you have no control and even the butt plug is there to stay. It is most liberating to know you are outwardly 'normal' yet still under total control of your Mistress and because of Maggie's thoroughness, totally safe and dry.

Next it was Maggie's turn to visit ‘the ladies’ and after just a few minutes she had returned to the table. The reusable flask that she had been drinking from throughout our journey was once more placed on the table, she began decanting its contents into a fresh coffee cup that she must have collected on the way. The drink was offered to me and believing it was an extra drink to keep me hydrated and the bag filling up, I eagerly accepted. I expected cool clear water, but no, it was better than that. Mistress presented me with a cup of warm nectar which of course was drained in a thrice.

And that I thought was the end of the adventure as Maggie announced ‘Time for home’. Except on the way out, a gentleman sitting on a low bench having a few beers with his mates noticed and commented on my collar. Maggie instantly hooked her finger through it and eased me towards the gentleman asking if he wanted to read the inscription on the medal - ‘slave in training’. Seamlessly he hooked his finger into the ring, dragging me further forward and said, 'Give us a blow job then’. I was in absolute turmoil wondering how Mistress wished me to react. I am her property but there was only a grin and no instruction from her. ‘I can’t I'm taken’ I stammered, and fortunately was immediately released.

The outline of the filling cath bag is just visible above my left knee.

The man laughed as we went on our way and suggested Maggie should ‘take good care of this one!’ Mistress seemed amused and unconcerned about my encounter. I still don't know if Mistress had anticipated this when she drew me towards the fellow, or whether she was as surprised as I was? In any event, I am owned and Maggie can do whatever she wishes with her slave.

On a lighter note, as we had been unable to buy a bun we stopped to purchase a sandwich for Maggie. The young girl serving us also commented that she liked my collar, but this time I managed to save myself from landing in any mischief; I smiled and said thank you. That was the end of the contact and the lady didn't ask me for a blow job.

The return bus journey was enjoyable but relatively uneventful, although I could feel my bag filling again. However, when we stood up to get off I felt the retaining strap pop open and I had to leave the bus holding the tube through my trouser pocket. Once again, all the public would see was a man alighting from a bus in the company of a very attractive lady with a bulge in my trousers. Most natural.

As we sauntered back to The Chambers I told Maggie about the strap and once indoors I could gently let the bag slide to its natural position, there from just beneath the hemline of my baggy trousers was the tip of the drain tap smiling back at us. Off to the bathroom then, Mistress bringing her syringe to deflate my catheter before removal. The rubber catheter bag needed emptying and thoroughly cleaning, and that I thought was the end, but Mistress had other plans and I was dragged back into her Playroom to complete my slave duties for the day.

I was ordered to strip with the exception of the butt plug of course, I was naked as the day I was born. Mistress picked a latex hood from her plentiful collection and strapped on her dildo harness, complete with her large flesh coloured dildo Mistress was ready for her slaves attention. I was finally ordered to give my Mistress a blow job. No doubts or reservations this time and with the right encouragement from Maggie and a warning as to where else she intended to put it I set about mouthing the dildo. I could only manage about half into my mouth and I really hoped that the movements were giving some pleasure to my Mistress. I have tried so many things with Mistress but this was a new lesson for this slave, as Maggie had never encouraged me before in this direction. I was handed a Durex and told to put it on her dildo.

Maggie ordered me onto all fours where she could easily pop the long stay resident butt plug out of my backside. I was instructed to sit on her knee and pleasure the dildo she was wearing. Yet another wonderful new experience.

The whole length of Maggie's shaft was taken easily and eagerly up my bum hole. I sat and wiggled and tried to get it deeper embedded and groaned quite a lot. Once more I hoped Maggie was having some fun because her slave certainly was. The position allowed Maggie to snake her free hands around me and grasp my cock and balls. That is a most explosive position!. . . except it wasn't. Just as I was about to warn Mistress that I was about to involuntarily ejaculate, she abruptly stopped and withdrew her energetic dildo. That was that. Another demonstration as to who is in total charge of all my emotions, orifices and experiences during my all too brief a time serving Mistress Maggie.

As to my experience in Chorley. It was a real buzz and I only hope I didn't let my Mistress down. The natives appear down to earth and friendly. I know I am a really fortunate slave and will do whatever my Mistress asks, although I am still unsure I’d have given that gent his blow job outside Chorley market if I had been so instructed, but then again I do trust my Mistresses judgement 100%.

The Twelve Ways of Mistress

🎄 Mistress Invites you to her Pantomime of Pervery 🎄

for adults only

Expect laughter, music, spectacle and lots of personal participation during this fun filled festive feast of a show.

Relive the adventures of Mistresses slave in training as she takes this traditional Christmas tune and distorts it almost beyond recognition. 

⬳⟿

The above extract from my calling mail gave me the distinct impression that Mistress Maggie was in festive mood and that I would be taking part in some Christmas entertainment. I arrived outside the Chambers with a spring in my step, a smile on my face, a bottle in hand for my Mistress and her husband, and ready for anything. Oh! I forgot, I was also carrying my perv bag complete with my red catsuit, black accessories and freshly polished black Wellington boots - just as instructed. I had a strong suspicion that once again I was to become a Christmas Santa Claus for my Owners amusement.

Mistresses thrill seeking show began as soon as I knelt at her feet to lick and worship her boots. There I was, innocently licking her red thigh high boots, up and down, long and slow and over her knee towards her glorious leather covered thighs, when I think I caught a glimpse of a naked Mistress underneath her latex skating skirt. Actually I wasn’t mistaken, but I know the rules and knew my job and so continued to concentrate on the cleaning rather than stare at my beautiful Mistress. It can be a hard and risky job being Mistress’ boot cleaner!

As expected I was soon inserted into the red catsuit and looking like Santa. Well, kind of like Santa, only I had to wear a gas mask instead of a sack. Maggie announced that her session plans would be presented to the tune of a well known carol, then retrieving her hymn sheet and singing to the tune of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ she outlined the session. I was asked to confirm understanding and acceptance of the actions in each of the verses, which was easy of course, as I have solemnly promised to willingly do whatever Mistress asks (or sings), immediately and without question. Mistress picked up her iPod and selected some easy music to get started . . .

And so to the Christmas Party.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my Mistress Planned for me:

12
Bouts of Spanking
OTK, in the lap of my Mistress. Who could ask for anything more? Plimsolls, slippers, paddles, hand slaps and hairbrushes all left their own rosy glow.





11
Pounds of Ball Weights Dangling
That is a lot of excess weight for a slave to carry between his legs but I suppose Santa should know how to handle big loads. Once acclimatised to the weight, I was led off to tour the Chambers with weight dangling merrily below. Back in the Playroom, Mistress partook in a glass of water.




10

Minutes of Dancing
With the music turned up I was swinging my ass and gas mask hose to a raunchy Madonna song. There is only one person who oozes more raw eroticism than Madge and I am owned by her. Oh yes, and Mistress took a sip of water.






9
Tails a Flogging
Amazing how tight my red catsuit can be across the buttocks when I am sticking my arse out further, inviting my Mistress to enjoy herself more with her cat o’ nine tails. After the whip, Mistress took another sip.






8
Electrodes Pulsing
Cleverly placed around my groin and stomach to produce really unusual and frustrating ripple sensations. Nothing I can do when my hands are tied up and Mistress is busy drinking more water.






7
Crooked Cane Strokes
I counted eight. Maggie said the extra one was deserved because I wriggled. No wonder I wriggled with a senior crooked cane playing on an already warmed up landscape. Mistress kept me over the whipping horse and drank a full glass of water.






6
Inch of her Strap-On
Hehe! and a vibrating one as well. Mistress must have been parched and had another sip of her water.






5
More Anal Toys
Taking advantage of my widened opening I was invaded and pumped up with an inflatable dildo. Quickly followed by the manhandler, most of a gloved hand, the powerful vibes of the Hitachi wand, finishing with the steel anal hook that Mistress so kindly attached to the overhead gantry. With me nicely hitched up out of the way Mistress began drinking, again!






4

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Horse Rides Round the Room
Not my finest event. The wonky knees restricted the horsing around to a walk round the track. Even then I fell at the start of the third furlong. Horse riding was never my strong point and I think I disappointed my Mistress. What’s that phrase? - you can lead a horse to water but Mistress drinks it all up?






3
Suffocation Bags
My Santa decorated head was captured inside three poly bags for some very noisy plastic breath control. The only thing wrong with three bags together, apart from not being able to breathe of course, was not being able to feel the Christmas kiss that Mistress gave me through the three layers. I could only watch her luscious warm lips as they approached, whilst gasping hard and dreaming of their touch. I envied Mistresses water glass as she took a few more sips.






2
Kicks up the Bum
I received quite a few more than two kicks up the rear, the important thing was that Maggie did seem to be enjoying it. ‘I didn’t put the boots on for nothing slave’. Perhaps she had a bad experience with Santa when she was younger? Or more likely she just fancied kicking the crap out of a very willing slaves backside. Anyway, who’s counting?




and



A Belly Full of Maggie’s Fine Pee
After all that water intake, quite a lot had to flow out. I was really fortunate that Maggie allowed me to be one of the first users of her new toilet box; a stunning piece of equipment. With my head nestled inside the latex toilet pan one thirst quenching stream of very fresh, warm, mulled Maggie wine was eagerly consumed by her slave. Oops! I did manage to get a little drop of wine on the beard, but hopefully I think I got away with it!

*  *  *

Today I was really privileged to be part of a well planned and well executed celebration of 133 previous sessions with my Mistress. The amount that she managed to seamlessly cram into the time available was amazing. The Christmassy session contained many of my 'favourites’, some of my owners favourites I hope, plus some new experiences like the new toilet and the 11lb ball weight. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

This blog is the 100th I have published about my slave escapades, and without the help of my owner, Mistress and friend I would not have been able to enjoy life as I do now. I will also thank Maggie's husband John for being patient, because I know I am demanding of Maggie's time, and finally;

I would like to wish everyone who has read my blogs a very Merry Christmas and a happy 2018. I hope you have been able to have as happy a 2017 as Mistress Maggie has provided for me.

My Dilemma

It was Monday, my nose was streaming like a tap and I really felt worse for wear. If I felt like this on Friday I knew I may have to disappoint my owner by missing my scheduled appointment. What to do? Cancel and miss out on a much needed fix of pervery and probably piss off Mistress, but if I did do that it may enable Mistress Maggie to rebook one of her other slaves. Or should I fight the cold and keep my appointment. I was determined to see my owner and it was only a cold after all. I can shake it off. I must shake it off.

By Thursday when the calling mail arrived, I knew I had made the right decision. I was in much need of some training time and I needed to see and serve my Mistress; what I didn’t need was letting her down or worse still, giving her my cold. The details of what Maggie intended for me in the session were unusually scant, giving me nothing to muse over, so I just fantasised in general about Maggie. When I arrived Mistress greeted me at the door wearing undergarments that were about as scanty as her calling mail; a vision in tight, pink trimmed latex. Following Mistress up the stairs in her high heels and little latex shorts, I had that familiar temptation to accidentally bury my nose into those wonderful bottom cheeks. But I know that unless I am invited, it’s not my place to stick my nose where it shouldn’t be and quickly regathered my thoughts and stepped back into line.

Once in the Playroom it seemed a good time to tell Maggie about my earlier cold and how I hoped to be able to achieve anything and everything asked of me despite being probably only 85% recovered.

The session commenced with an enjoyable period of shoe worship, under Maggie’s instruction I was to concentrate on cleaning the uppers of her shoes only, and that there would be plenty of time to attend to her fine heels later. In the meantime I would once again be transformed into my owners private rubber slave and was ordered into my full heavyweight catsuit, socks and gloves. Standing fully rubberised awaiting my orders I could see Mistress arranging a plastic bag, a sign that I would likely be having some breath training today. I did not have to wait too long for an intense bagging, Mistress had me kneel between her gorgeous thighs and watched as I slowly used up the air and finally had to beg for her to relax her grip on my breathing. All the while I was gazing at my owner through the plastic and wondering if this was the last heavenly vision I would see. Ah, some angel!.

Moving to the White Room I was to lay on the couch, putting my backside in a most convenient position for Maggie to unzip me and stuff my red butt plug friend inside me, she then began fastening the PVC straps that would keep me secured during my treatments. No problems with my butt plugs entry, but I did receive problems from Maggie’s shoe as she appeared to delight in using the protruding red end of my dildo for target practice. She must have been a footballer in the past because each kick was unerringly accurate and quite firm!. Right on target on the red end and I think she scored with every kick. It is a good job there is a sizeable flange on the plug otherwise it could have ended up somewhere behind my rib-cage.

Mistress had plans for further breathtaking fun for her slave, a modified gas mask suitable for rebreathing was the order of the day, and once fitted snugly, the aroma pumping hose was screwed on the front. New aromas this week, supposed to be more mellow if the label is anything to go by! I’m not sure, but I think I prefer the one I was allowed last time.

There was no mention from Maggie as to what operations she was about to do, but what happened next and confirmed by the photos, was something I have dreamed about for some time. With all the rubbery noises and ball tightening that was going on down below I sensed that my owner was attempting to recreate a picture I had favoured on Flickr, whereby a gentleman had his cock and balls tightly enclosed in thin, tight black latex. It was strangely haunting imagining my cock and balls in a similar condition, a thought that I believed could only be a dream, never to be fulfilled.

Well, never underestimate the power, creativity and ingenuity of my first class Mistress. She has the ability to make a lot of dreams come true and this dream was now being made into reality. Turning my genitals into a black rubber bundle took Maggie quite a while, much adjustment needed, use of plan B and even plan C, some very tender and occasional rough handling of my cock and balls and ingenious use of her black stockings, until she was finally pleased with her creation. Maggie still hadn’t given any indication of how she had adorned her property, but I just knew. I could definitely feel the interesting pressure her handiwork had provided and couldn’t wait for the pictures.

Mistress put on a pair of latex opera gloves and came to check me out, to see if I was OK with the gas mask. Oh yes, and quite a few squirts of the aroma bulb had me chilled out and relaxed, which was quite fortunate as Mistress wanted to broaden other horizons and whispered in that incredibly sexy voice that is generally the precursor to some hard work on my part, that she was going to attempt to insert a whole hand up my backside.

The aromas had worked well and my sphincter felt ready to accommodate Mistresses hand. The chair was adjusted to the right height to suit her arm movements, then with lots of lubrication and a thorough, penetrating, and rather pleasant anal massage Maggie was keen to get started with her slaves first real fisting attempt.

She gently and firmly rotated her fist, pushing a bit more and topping up the lube I could feel my hole stretching, her fingers were easily sliding in and out . . . in and out . . .  but she couldn’t manage to get her thumb knuckle past my sphincter. Maggie did not force the issue, rather, she patted my strapped stomach and said, ‘well done slave’.

Never mind, I had a big asshole by now and just by chance Maggie had a massive manhandler, a dildo with operating handle, that offered no resistance and slipped in easily. Once more the depth and stimulation was such that I couldn’t tell if I wanted to pee or spurt. Maggie made good use of the huge invader and I must admit to liking the sensations quite a bit!

To complete my anal exercises and fill the space that had been made available by the manhandler and attempted fisting, a string of anal beads was inserted. They popped in easily as well and all that was left protruding was the ring pull to aid extraction. They are very comfortable to wear and could easily have been left up there without any discomfort or anyone knowing, although the smile they put on your face might act as a giveaway.

The rebreathe gas mask I had been wearing was now used for its true intended purpose. Mistress explained that my rebreathing ability was to be advanced and she would be keeping a check on the clock, the hose was removed and a 6L rebreathe bag screwed on in its place. ‘Last time slave you managed 1 minute, today we will try for 1:15.’  Well, 1:15 came and I was feeling fine and when asked ‘do you want to go on?’ I nodded and grunted. So on we went, rebreathing my own air; 1:30, 1:45, grunt and yes, until we passed 2 minutes and Maggie called a halt with another ‘well done slave’.


I was rewarded for my rebreathing improvement and Maggie opened the zip on the re-breather bag and popped some aroma inside it. I was then given permission to caress her wonderful latex clad bottom, a pleasure made even more mesmerising with the medicinal properties of the aromas.

With the hydraulic gynae couch lowered so I could step off safely, we moved gently and carefully back to the Playroom for more of Maggie’s planned activities. Possibly the combination of standing up, aromas and the fact that I was less than 100% fit had me totally knackered, and I mean mind numbingly debilitated. Mistress was concerned, as she always is for her playthings, the mask was removed, followed by all of the rubber cock and ball ornamentation and I was told to lay down to recover. It is amazing how much energy is sapped trying to please your Mistress, but I think the main contributor to my coming to a halt was my lack of fitness. I still think I made the right choice to attend rather than rearrange my appointment yet still needed to apologise to my owner for having let her down.

After a grateful swig of water, recovery was swift and I was able to resume worshipping my Mistresses footwear. She lay down on the low bench and raised up one of her gorgeous and incredibly shapely legs to my very eager mouth. ‘I would like stylised worship of my heels today slave. Lick them just like a pussycat would’. I never tried to lick like a cat before, so I just moderated my usual long slow licks a little, moving along the high heels and curling my tongue up at the end of each stroke, first one foot then the other, then both heels were presented together. Maggie was smiling at me and it was a hard task to avoid staring at her very tight lingerie that was only a couple of feet away from her slaves catlike mouth. That was a lovely end to the session and I may have mentioned this before, but I do think Mistress Maggie has the most beautiful pair of legs a slave could wish for. Don’t you agree?

My dilemma had been resolved. I would have liked to be 100% fit for my owner but I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to serve for any reason, if I could possibly avoid it.

Friday the 13th!

Today dispelled any antipathy towards Friday 13th by turning out, yet again, to be an excellent day for my training with Mistress Maggie. Maggie looked striking in her black latex catsuit, her heels were so high that she must have been a whole four inches taller than I am used to and she was able to look me straight in the eye as she ushered me in.

We started with the worship of those deliciously tall boots and for the first time I was blindfolded for the task. My whole body and soul concentrated on long slow licks and kisses to the right boot, where some dusting powder had been spilled and I’d been instructed to put the matter right.

After licking off all the powder I was to help Maggie change her boots for something easier to dance in. Maggie said that last week she’d had such a great time dancing and flogging me to the music that she wanted a repeat performance. Once again I was rubbered up in my black catsuit and given a gas mask with the aroma hose so I could puff vapour when required. This led to another sensuously liberating flogging accompanied by some sexy tracks on Maggie's music machine. No shackles this time, just free movement and swinging my ass to the rhythmic thwacks that Mistress delivered to my back and buttocks, the tails of her whip catching my balls and anywhere else Maggie wanted.

Today, I also experienced probably the deepest and most penetrating mounting ever. Again I was allowed to self medicate the strong aromas whilst face down over the mounting horse. Without any restraints I was in a position to glimpse my stunning owner in the Playroom mirror and I watched as Maggie strapped on a large white dildo. Being a little apprehensive about its size I did what any self respecting pervert would do; I allowed myself a few extra puffs to help relax the passage for the impending invasion. The flash of shiny black rubber completely covering my owner contrasting against her beautiful face and huge dildo did nothing to steady my erection, while Maggie parading the monster under the round glass portals of my gas mask only served to exacerbate my anxiety and. . . another puff was called for.

Mistress spent a delightful length of time stroking her lubricant onto her toy. There was no resistance as Mistress gently eased it inside me and set my arse rattling with vibrations, that was a surprise and the first of a few thrills this white monster had to offer. I was really enjoying dancing on this dildo and as I thrust back to meet my Mistress I felt the urge to either pee or cum. Strange, I just couldn't tell which. The phallus was so deeply embedded it may well have been tickling my bladder, or Maggie had just hit my special spot. Of course the only way to be certain is to wear a catheter whilst being mounted. Hmm - I suspect I shouldn't have written that!

Today, after my exceptional rear-ending, my own butt plug slid in remarkably easily and there it stayed, securely zipped inside my heavy weight rubber suit as my arms were forced into leather arm binders, secured behind and I was prepared for a series of treats and tortures. Mistress bagged her slave, literally, as the clear latex sack that Mistress calls her ‘suffo bag’ was teased over my head and tied in place. There must have been air getting in somewhere round the neckband, because although it’s a challenging hood I found that with concentrated slow breathing I didn't suffocate; that really would have been confirmation that Friday 13th should be avoided! Instead, I could just see through the golden haze as Mistress floated, ghostlike, in front, dispensing my next puff of aroma. An aroma soaked pad was introduced under the neck tie and I managed a few really good lungfuls before Mistress removed her hand and resealed my fate. She moved her fingers across my rubber face, stroking my lips and looking through the latex bag as if offering me a kiss, I know a slave should not expect such a pleasure and when I tried my best to reciprocate it was to no avail. Mistress moved backwards leaving me un-kissed and very frustrated.

My bondage predicament was tended to next, becoming more strict as ropes were fixed between my harness and the stout ceiling ring, then Maggie pulled as hard as she could to secure me to the Playroom. I was loving the restraints and I had one hell of an erection by now which had Maggie amused and even more amused when she produced the black rubber apron and tied it round my waist. I couldn’t imagine why I might need an apron, being in such a tied up position it would be hard to do any jobs, but I was quickly re-assured. Maggie patted my cock and balls, ‘to preserve your modesty slave’. Red rag to a bull. She knows I am a rubber fetishist and all that did was increase the size of my now hidden cock.

Today, no problems with the red rebreather hood, probably because my owner had removed my inner helmet. When we tried six weeks ago Maggie had been disappointed with my rebreathing performance and we had proved that using the red rebreather and inner hood is not practical and my breath control training had to be postponed. It was a big relief then, that when I took a deep breath and exhaled the hood ballooned exactly as it should. The rebreather can be rather a dilemma for a slave, especially when Mistress rather provocatively showed off her superb latex covered bottom in front of me, as you have brief limited vision only when exhaling. What a way to worship those beautiful black orbs, in very restricted view for far less then half your life and my hands secured behind to prevent them straying. Mistress knows I love to caress her buttocks; blindfolded, rebreather or any way I can manage, but that was not going to happen either.

Maggie tightened the body harness and securing ropes a little more and I wasn't going anywhere, unlike my earlier taste of freedom when I was over the horse. A cool sensation passed over my chest as Maggie opened my zips and exposed my nipples to the playroom air. She pinched and pulled them hard before deciding to get rid of the sweat that had accumulated on them by drying them off with towel and talc. ‘That will give these clamps a better grip’ she announced. I did manage a small glimpse of the clamps through my breathing holes; large black things, and I was soon taking very deep breaths through my rebreather as Maggie started to screw one of her evil clamps on my left nipple. From where I was kneeling (on knee pads by the way) the nipple was receiving a very tight grip indeed, until the clamp dropped off. ‘OK slave, lets try that again!’

Obviously I could no longer self medicate and I asked Mistress if there was any way to receive a little more dosage. Maggie produced a cotton pad again with a little more aroma and held it just in front of my half dozen rebreather holes. Ah! Worked a treat, I received a heady dose of the strong scent as the clamp was being screwed in place again. It was at this point that I realised I had probably requested one too many puffs of the potent product and, despite being held in a tight grip by one nipple and certainly most firmly by the ropes, I felt myself swaying and perhaps just a little out of control.

Today, I took one puff too many and Mistress, ever vigilant to her slaves condition, recognised the issue before I did. I had been stupid and over eager with my medication and Maggie carefully and calmly removed the red rebreather. I looked forward at my Mistresses glorious all black rear that was so tantalisingly close to my freed face, and I leaned forward in the hope of stealing a closer look at that most glorious of profiles - that's when it really hit me. As I moved forward the strength in my thighs gave way and I sagged into the rope restraints. I was never in any danger, my owner had her property secured. The spreader bar was removed which freed up my arms and legs, she administered oxygen to me from the Playroom emergency bottle before loosening the suspension ropes and gently guided me onto my side. Recovery was swift and within moments I was keen to resume my training, but Maggie insisted I take a little longer to ensure my full recovery.

As I lay there recovering, Mistress was jotting down a few notes about the electro nipple clamps she had attempted to apply on my 'useless nipples’. I suspect those clamps were not used to their full potential today and I have this uneasy feeling that the notes she made will surface for our next session.

Today was a marvellous Friday the 13th. Once the waft of oxygen had fully regenerated my senses, my ankles were bound and my wrists roped up behind me. Maggie then removed my sight once more. This time no immediate breath play, just blinded as Maggie strung me up to the ceiling ring in a noose, then began pulling on her rope to apply some constriction.

They say the concept of hanging induces orgasm, but I think that in this instance it was more to do with Mistress fondling my cock and balls through the chlorinated rubber apron while threatening to throttle me harder if I didn’t cum. As it was I couldn't see but I could certainly feel the knot tighten on a couple of occasions as Maggie encouraged relief. Then all of a sudden my hood was removed and I was presented with the wonderfully mysterious sight of my owner, but not my owner. A figure in a Pierrot mask and black rubber gown had taken her place and had been deciding my fate. Little had I known that I had been hitched to the roof and seductively massaged by a soulless executioner. I tried to gaze into those unfathomable eyes and I tried to steal a kiss. The eyes were black with so much depth and the lips were solid and lifeless. Now that is something surreal for Friday 13th.

Today, I have tried an alternate approach to my blog presentation and formatting but there is no alternative to Mistress Maggie as far as I am concerned. In the words of the song, Simply the Best and as for Friday 13th, bring on the next one. I'll be here.