Disappointed

For the avoidance of any ambiguity with the title of this blog, I can honestly say I have NEVER been disappointed with any of the sessions that Mistress Maggie has so kindly allowed me to experience. In fact, I would go so far as to say that every one of my sessions has been pure enjoyment, possibly with the exception of the odd painful episode, electrocutions, mangina, cbnt etc, but those are exactly what I signed up for and I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

So why disappointment for the title? Well I know today that I failed to perform to the highest levels that I have achieved in the past, and I learned in the session debrief that parts of the session that Mistress Maggie would reliably find very satisfying ended up being disappointing for her. That in turn has led to my disappointment in failing to reach the previous attainment levels.

I will return to this later in the blog but for now I will start with the calling email - 

‘…  Pack your kit bag with black t-shirt and shorts, socks and gloves, plus your butt plug just in case!

Your rubber Mistress will be giving you a lesson in how size matters before wrapping up with a theme that will almost feel like a party.’

It was unusual for Mistress to instruct me to bring shorts and tee-shirt and now my brain was in a fuddle as the mail was so nebulous that we could be enjoying anything and everything, so I arrived with my imagination running riot.

I was greeted by my Mistress in her tight black latex body suit, leopard print latex gloves, with those beautiful legs adorned with a pair of glossy latex stockings and low heeled black knee boots that produced an amazing squeak each time she moved. (That squeak proved most useful in echo locating my Mistress as she moved around behind me.) I have already described the mesmeric effect that glorious derriere has on me, and once again I followed Mistress to the Playroom as closely as I dare, intrigued by the future enjoyment.

Boot worship was divine as usual and Mistress outlined that the session would be in three parts, the first involved me dressed in tee-shirt and shorts with an exquisite latex hood. The horse was manoeuvred out of its resting place and I was handed the anaesthesia mask with the aromas delivery hose attached and told to mount the horse and prepare to have my holes opened. As an aside, I was able to get into a much more open position by moving along the bench lifting my legs off the floor and using that width of the horse to spread my butt. It also had the advantage of my head being off the other end of the horse and allowing easy aroma delivery.

It is an old adage that the size of what will fit in your mouth will fit up your bum and Maggie wasted no time in testing out the theory, sticking the first of three dildos into my mouth. Well that seemed to work as Mistress inserted it into her harness and after suitable lubrication slowly wriggled it into my other end. I think she whispered something about needing to exercise my anus before it healed itself up. Well, that first mounting with a generous helping of long thrusts certainly blew away a few cobwebs. The second larger dildo received a similar introduction to mouth then rear, and by this time I was thoroughly enjoying being f***ed by my owner and having the freedom to self-administer the aromas.

Now her third dildo was huge, or at least it appeared huge as Mistress used my mouth once again to check the girth of the flag pole that was about to go up my bottom. It did go in my mouth, but had it been food I’d still be trying to swallow it! Similarly, it was a tight fit up my bum despite me just having another reasonably big monster up there, Maggie wasn’t too concerned, she put it aside and moved onto the final plug; the electro-dildo!

Needless to say, this plug was administered by hand and was not tested for size in my mouth. A conductive pad was place adjacent to my scrotum and the sensations achieved when the power was turned on was… stimulating to the extent that I had to alert Maggie that much more of this treat would result in a sudden, uncontrolled explosion. At which point Maggie abruptly stopped, leaving me a little frustrated but relieved to have averted premature ejaculation.

Time for part 2 of three of this wonderful experience; breathplay. I was really relieved because it had been a while since Mistress had seen fit to really take my breath away and the lack of practice showed. First of all I was to be squeezed into the tightest of tight latex sacks. This sack started life with only a neck opening and when we first looked at it many months ago, we both said in unison that a great lump like me would never fit in the neck opening. Since then Mistress has given it a full length rear zip. Now that was a fantastic modification. Arms by sides, step in, legs together and Maggie slowly zipped me inside which leaves the wearer looking like a skittle, totally encased from neck downwards in slinky tight black latex rubber and totally helpless. You do need to be careful because it is difficult to maintain balance while so tightly encased.

My lack of balance didn’t last long, as Maggie placed the playroom chair immediately behind me and helped me to lower myself into a comfortable sitting position where two long lengths of hemp finished the job by tying her plaything to the chair. Mistress stood back to appreciate her bondage work before advancing towards me and smothering me with her breasts. Underneath her warm boobs I had to contort my face to allow sufficient air to get round those superb and nearly airtight breasts that had been dextrously applied across my mouth and nose. Being so close to Mistress and being almost unable to breathe was like being in heaven. Smothering by breasts has definitely hit the spot when it comes to getting back into breath play.

Alas, the next part of the breath play was where I really flunked out and disappointed Mistress. I'm a bit of a glutton when it comes to aromas and Mistress had spent some time modifying a plastic bag to allow a cannula pipe through, so I would be able to enjoy aromas along with some suffocation. The cannula was rested under my nostrils and secured in place with two pieces of tape. All was set; aromas were being delivered via the cannula pump as they should be and Maggie sealed my head inside the plastic. All OK so far. But I think I was expecting at least an adequate air supply as I had overlooked the fact that Maggie would be using her plastic bag for asphyxiation, not restricted breathing.

Unlike my first ever session with Maggie, where I was strung up for my first serious bagging experience and had managed to suck up all the available air, much of the plastic and could not wait for another go at breathlessness, I panicked this time and in no time at all I was begging for air.

Of course Mistress granted my request, but I knew that Mistress was disappointed with my total lack of commitment to this, one of her more enjoyable phases of my training. The post session inquest suggested that I'd let Maggie down and that I really had under performed in today's breathplay stakes. I must apologise to my Mistress for this disappointment and I think I need a lot more practice to return my performance to acceptable levels.

After the all too brief a spell of breath play Mistress moved on to the final third of her planned activities, and I am fortunate that she doesn’t hold a grudge because a slave performs badly. I think I even detected a little smile as I jiggled with the nettles and received in return a good dose of hot wax. First of all I was to strip off all my latex and assist with laying out the maroon PVC sheet below the overhead. 

I was still standing in my birthday suit when Maggie began wrapping me in shrink wrap, I held the end of the roll to give Maggie a good start in covering my upper torso. A good tight wrap that soon had me enveloped from crotch to neck with anything above that line now covered by a latex hood. Bearing in mind I could not move my arms at all, it was a little cumbersome getting onto the PVC sheet. I could sag onto the side of the bed and managed to lay down in a most ungainly fashion, but of course I was facing the wrong direction. More excellent planning by Maggie as it was a relatively easy task to use the PVC sheet to slide me through 180 degrees so that my legs could be raised above the bed to a pair of waiting ankle stirrups, that in turn were attached to the overhead gantry, exactly where Maggie wanted me for her forthcoming amusement.

A few good hefty pulls by Mistress had me suspended by my ankles with only my neck and shoulders resting on the floor. I still had no idea where this part of the adventure was taking us; Maggie of course knew exactly where she wanted her slave as she quickly and efficiently wrapped the lower part of my torso. It was actually quite comfortable but I couldn’t move my head to see what was going on in the rest of The Playroom.

However I did get the sense of Mistresses movements, because each time she was preparing a surprise her boots emitted their endearing ‘squeak, squeak’. So I wasn’t surprised when Maggie appeared at the end of the raised gantry and started attaching several pieces of light rope, until there were three cords dangling in strategic positions from the overhead. What did surprise me and I must say concerned me a little were the three holes Maggie created in her perfect clingfilm wrapping; one for each nipple and one at my groin.

What concerned me even more were the two candles that were attached to the dangling cords, followed by a silver wrapped nettle. Ah, I thought I had got away with that pleasure this year. I shouldn’t mention this but I have grown accustomed to and even like the tingling of the nettles. Being the end of summer it was a mature sprig that doesn’t sting quite as much, but I began moving my hips to get a better connection with her hanging bunch of nettles. That action stopped the moment Mistress lit both ends of each candle. Each time I twitched my hips to get a better contact, the dangling candles gyrated and I was showered predominantly across my nipples, by hot wax. Not too hot to burn but hot enough to excite. I found myself in somewhat of a predicament. Do I nettle my nuts, warm my nipples or what? I believe Mistress refers to this as predicament bondage. Well I took the only option open to me. Excite my cock and balls, suffer the hot wax treatment and listen to Mistress laughing.

In the end, I gave up all control, bucked my hips, splashed my nipples and thoroughly enjoyed the various erotic sensations. This part of the session only ended when Mistress detected the smell of burning string and thought it wise to extinguish the candles. Not wishing to waste the situation Mistress straddled my face and we had another bout of far more successful breath play as I was smothered beneath her delicious bottom. ‘Oops, I’ve forgotten to do something’, she said before quickly disappearing from the room. When she returned I could hear the rustle of thick plastic above me. Maggie came back in sight and she had donned her shiny clear plastic pants and promptly mounted my face once more for a final, plastic, breathless finale.

I did notice when we were quickly tidying up at the end of another exciting session that wax had splashed all over the PVC sheet, fortunately without leaving a mark on the carpet. I also got the impression that Mistress Maggie was pleased with this final part and complemented her slave that I had lasted so long and taken so much waxing and nettling.

As I said at the start, I had another thoroughly enjoyable session but I am not happy that I had cause to disappoint my Mistress. Perhaps more practice will bring me back to previous performance levels. Sorry Mistress for disappointing you but a big thank you as I thoroughly enjoyed yet another wonderful experience. With hindsight the calling e-mail makes complete sense and was accurate as to session content. Isn't hindsight a wonderful gift?

Caution: This 1:33s bagging breathplay clip has audio.

Dark, Breathless Moments!

As I approached my 193rd session on my journey to becoming a more than adequate slave to Mistress Maggie the calling e-mail from my stunning Mistress had arrived. True to form her illusive words set my imagination racing, but what could they mean? ‘Your rubber Mistress will be providing you with dark breathless moments and…’  It could refer to the rebreather hood trialled in the last session or perhaps a nice gas mask with the bug eye blindfolds attached or... none of the above as I soon found out. Much more pleasant than all my imaginings! As for the rest of the calling mail ‘Well, wait and see … I’ve got to leave you with some surprises!’ Now that further whetted my appetite and got my little grey cells working.

The weather was somewhat inclement. So much so that I decided to wear my rubber trench coat and hat to saunter up to the doorway to heaven. I have to admit to loving wet weather for providing this kind of rubber opportunity, but only on Fridays. One of these glorious wet days I might ask Mistress if I can wear my latex jeans under my coat and even my boxer shorts, though I don’t think she would agree. I know Maggie likes to have slaves arriving without sweaty bo*****s and clammy skin induced by wearing rubber before my training starts, because it makes it far easier to climb into the latex she has planned for the day.  

Dark, breathless moments under Maggie

Arriving on time, a little wet on the outside, dry on the inside and wearing a comfortable Covid mask I once again met all the sensible Covid precautions that Maggie likes to observe, we both laughed as I removed my mask and said I could have been wearing a ball gag, ring gag, tape gag or anything under the mask as the face is nicely covered. Mmm, perhaps I shouldn't have said that! 

I was keen to show Mistress my newly chlorinated catsuit. It had been several weeks since Maggie had allowed me to help chlorinate several rubber items, including the catsuit, and this would be the first time worn in its new finish. The suit had been bought from Invincible before the first lockdown and I had never had the chance to wear it in 'anger' until now. I laid it out on the bed to warm and returned in latex socks and gloves ready for Maggie to allow me a period of boot worship. The toes of her boots were so pointed that they could take your eye out if not handled carefully, and while Maggie covered my naked torso with gentle leather whip lashes I covered her leather boots with many long licks and kisses. My rubber dressing began with a latex hood and butt plug: on to knees, a dollop of lube, a gentle massage into the cavity then in it went. All the way and there it stayed, gently stretching the surrounding sphincter and feeling good. 


Now for the moment of truth, it was time to put my new suit on and would it still fit? What would the suit feel like to wear now it had been chlorinated? It certainly felt wonderful to handle but that is not the same, and what would it actually look like on this rather rotund rubber slave? Most important of all, would my Mistress find the suit acceptable to her tastes? Yes, it felt good. Yes, it still fitted. Yes, Mistress indicated it looks fantastic and began operating the nip zips, ‘Yes, exactly where they ought to be’. There was just one minor point that I will take care of the next time I am fortunate to wear it again, pulling it up a bit more in the crotch area would make sure that it fits as it should. We were both over the moon with my new suit and you might like to check the photos because I think it looks fantastic.

Ah! Onto the dark breathless moments. Mistress had me roped to the low bench in a thrice and eased her latex panty covered bottom slowly over my face. What a sight. A thin black line between where I could go and definitely out of bounds. Still, what an experience. At first I could breathe through my nose and I attempted to lick and kiss those most private of latex covered parts until it became impossible. Maggie eased her way backwards, wiggled her bottom to make the perfect seal across both nose and mouth and what did I do. First of all, I ground the bridge of my nose as much as I could in a feeble attempt to please Mistress, then there was nothing I could do except struggle for the tiniest piece of air I could find. Despite the heavenly position I was in, the need for air gradually overtook my desperation for intimate close contact. Mistress knows how far I can go and by standing up, the tight seal was released before I ran totally out of breath.

Shifting her position I could now see the front of Mistress gently sinking and the last thing I saw was her beautiful face smiling down at her slave as she manoeuvred to cover eyes, nose and mouth. I had to admit that being smothered in such a beautiful manner would be my ideal way to shuffle off this mortal coil. I could still hear Mistresses beautifully murmured voice reminding me, ‘I did tell you about dark, breathless moments.’

Before being moved from the bench Mistress prepared my cock and balls for some long term frustration by locking said cock into her specially prepared Kali's teeth. I enquired about the device afterwards and was told that it has cones on the inside, but not a sort that is spiky enough to pierce the flesh. Even so it had the composition of cold steel and I think it would have been sadistic murder had they been spikes! As it was, on their own the Kali’s teeth were bearable and as the time wore on were quite nice. What did start off quite bearable but gradually became less and less so, were the three stout rubber ball stretching bands that Maggie began applying tightly round my balls. ‘The postman brought these for me yesterday, a little earlier than I expected slave’, and Mistress was keen to try them out. Sometimes I wish our postal system was not quite as efficient, a couple of days delay would have done wonders for my comfort, or he could have just tossed them on the pavement like they do with all their other rubber bands!  

So the scene was almost set and if I thought about it, my resolve was clearly going to be tested. The stout leather harness was retrieved from its wall position and with each tightly fastened strap I became progressively less mobile. First the upper arms, then my elbows and finally my wrists, and my arms were then totally useless. Straps through the crotch to keep in the inflatable vibrating plug that had rapidly replaced my own plug at the bottom end and the inflatable breath through gag at the other had me trussed and stuffed like the proverbial chicken. Mistress contemplated a stool for having her slave seated as she wanted and soon had me in position, with saliva dribbling from my rubber straw into a metal dish parked between my feet. There I stayed for around five minutes, before my wonky knees started bothering me. To save herself from too much slave whimpering Maggie decided her folding chair may be better for my bondage, so a hurried replacement of chair for stool had me assuring her that I was fine. 

My own slave collar was called into use as a chain was fed through its D-ring and attached tightly to the over head gantry and apart from locking my legs together, that was that. I did receive some very welcome aromas applied with a liberally soaked cloth pressed over my nose. All the while all I could do was enjoy the situation. Being on the chair now I was able to lean back and my dribbling saliva was making a mess on my catsuit rather than landing in the bucket. Maggie was having none of it, a couple of extra pumps on the mouth gag soon stopped her slave being messy. And finally to top it all Maggie even managed to enjoy a little breath play by holding my nose and sticking a finger up my tube.

After quite a while, that familiar ache in the balls was beginning to take its toll on my resolve and to be honest I almost panicked. Unusually, I was even struggling to breathe with the gag in. When Mistress heard my anguished plea for help the gag was whipped out in a flash. ‘Are the bands too much for you slave?’. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!! I replied. ‘Take a deep breath slave because this is going to hurt.’ Her calm and sympathetic words were correct, having the rubber bands removed was the most painful few seconds of the whole session. I knew I was in safe hands though and all I had to do was to take a deep steady breath... and it worked. The moral of this is to ALWAYS trust your Mistress and never to panic. 

Everything was fine after that little hiccup. Mistress was naturally concerned but I did everything I could to reassure her that it was a very temporary problem and now that the increasing ache in the balls had gone I felt really great and desperate for her to continue my training.

When Maggie was satisfied I had spent enough time chained to the roof, we relocated to the bed for what I thought might be a bit more dark, breathless smothering. Not quite. My rubber hood was removed to be replaced by a conventional gas mask where the aromas delivery system could come into play, the stout harness was removed which momentarily freed my arms, only for me to be spread-eagled to the four corners of the latex covered bed. Mistress Maggie was still hell bent on really frustrating her slave and rigged a tight rope from top to bottom of the bed from which she dangled the Playroom Hitachi wand, strategically placed to play actively on my Kali's teeth. That was the most frustrating time. Mistress provided me with regular squeezes of aroma with the hand pump, injecting her slave with glowing sensations and wild desires. Whoever would believe that one day I would be under the control of a beautiful rubber woman, watching over me while I have wild sex with a set of steel teeth?!! I bucked, I shuddered, I grunted and in fact became quite agitated and very active as I ground the Kali's into the wand.

Did I remain frustrated? No! And proof that my balls were still working!

One of my Balls is Missing!

It may at first appear to be an exciting resume of a part-castration. Well, nothing quite as painful or permanent as that and I must admit to being quite attached to these balls. However, this is the only activity that I was fairly certain would happen because Mistress Maggie had been particularly vague about session plans in the call up mail.

‘. . . Session plans are still being prepared. You have my permission to remain on tenterhooks. . . ‘

Maggie knows the psyche of this slave well, of course she would, I have been fortunate enough to serve now for seven years this month so the sesquicentennial celebrations last session weren't the only milestone to celebrate, and the idea that I would be 'on tenterhooks' I think would bring a wry smile across those beautiful lips.

Had it not been for my missing ball I would have entitled this blog - The longest five minutes. Sitting in the car, on tenterhooks, watching the clock click over from 14:20 to 21 to 22 ... then finally to 14:25 when I know I am on my way to another meeting with the most stunningly attractive person I could ever dream of,  let alone the privilege of serving her. Those five minutes are like an eternity. Go too early and you dawdle outside or get a telling off for being early. Go too late and you risk a telling off for being late so the only solution is arrive exactly on time, which I once again managed.

Mistress was in her stunning black latex outfit, covered from neck to boot in that wonderful material, except that on top of her lower body were a pair of thick, clear plastic pants. Their shine contrasting quite dramatically with the  sheen of the polished rubber. Whichever way you look at it Mistress was stunning and as we climbed the stairs to The Playroom I noticed a new pair of shiny boots with some very attractive brass pyramid studs down the outside. I knew I would be intimately acquainted with them shortly, which indeed I was. Slightly lower but still substantial heels, knee high, black and very pleasant to worship.

Ah! That missing ball. A few days earlier, one of the red balls that keeps my guiche piercing in place dropped off. I have no idea where or when but the first I knew of the problem was when my guiche, minus a ball, dropped down the inside of my trouser leg and clattering onto the tiles. Fortunately no one was round to hear but unfortunately, the red retaining ball had vanished. I ordered a couple of spares (just in case another ball goes walkies) and they arrived in good time for me to bring them to session. Maggie carefully replaced my temporary repair with the genuine article. At 6mm, the new one is 1mm larger than the previous bar, but Mistress was pleased with the larger replacement and it was easily inserted then both balls secured tightly to reduce the risk of further loss. (Note to self - tighten balls daily in future!)

In no time, Mistress had me and my new jewellery strapped across the horse. A bit gag was fitted and stout rope reins attached to the bridle and, as you might expect the cold glass dildo Mistress had donned during worship was soon warming as she yanked on the reins. I prefer to be called Jo rather than Dobbin, but my new temporary name seemed to amuse Maggie and I was rode like a horse until she was satisfied that my rear entry had taken the stretching it needed, ready for another attempt at retrieving the object 'hidden' in that dark place. After that my own butt plug went in easily to do its job of keeping me stretched.

On with my heavyweight latex catsuit first, then I was told to lie down on the carpet where my wrists were roped to my ankles, because Mistress was determined to have more fun riding her slave and educating me on how much I should like plastic. My face was the saddle, my nose was the pummel and of course my Mistress in her squeaky plastic breeches the rider.

Judging by that wonderful smile radiating from Maggie, I am starting to re-evaluate my material preferences, if face sitting in plastic pleases my owner so much perhaps I do like plastic rather than rubber. However, I would like to point out that despite all that delightful face full of plastic, Mistress is wearing latex underneath. The plastic pants weren't quite as pliable as other plastic Mistress has seen fit to smother me with, and despite the wonderful feeling of breath restriction I was able to wriggle and squirm to obtain a bit of air. Maybe it was that wriggling and squirming that put that wonderful smile into Maggie?

Mistress is truly imaginative and inventive in the apparatus she uses on her slaves. Even though I had moved a silver box off the horse when I had moved it to its riding position, I had no inkling what it was or what it would be used for. It is not in my remit to question such things, so I just moved it and forgot about it. Well, I was about to find out what its intended purpose was, but first I was to be intimately introduced to a new mask that I had read about in Mistresses Tweets.

Mistress has designed her eye mask well, and trivial as this may sound, having long eyelashes sometimes gives me problems opening and closing my eyelids, especially really tight hoods. Not so with this eye mask, it allowed  unrestricted eye movement and through its perspex lenses I could see everything most clearly. Hmmm! Perhaps there is something to be said about keeping eyes tight shut!

Back to the silver box. I was seated comfortably on the Playrooms folding chair, directly inside the confines of the lowered gantry. Mistress gathered some rope and started to tie me to the chair, her knots very secure in a way to keep me immobile and my head was immobilised too, in the grips of her heavy stocks. Maggie paid particular attention to fixing the right levels and angles of the supporting gantry, sufficient to make her slave static but comfortably contained. I couldn't move my head at all but of course, I could move my eyes behind the perspex lenses.

WARNING: This 45 second clip has audio

The last time Mistress had attempted to insert me into her 'standard' head box, my head was too big and we simply couldn't fit me in. This time, Maggie had crafted this from a cardboard box, maybe as a template for a future project (I suspect I shouldn't have said that) but the box fitted well. The inside of her box and lid as well were lined with a very thick layer of plastic bubble wrap. Yes, Maggie was on a mission to plasticize me.

When Mistress closed the lid, it was an effective face pad of slithery, breathtaking plastic. There was sufficient free play to breathe after a fashion and because of the eye guard I was able to look round inside the box. Although not completely dark, all I could see and taste at very close quarters was plastic, plastic and more plastic all accompanied by a nice plastic bouquet. As I said, Mistress is most inventive and what is worrying is what a box made of more substantial material would feel like with my head rigidly held inside and in total darkness.  As a prototype and proof of concept it was breathtakingly successful. As a blue print for the future, well . . .

You may also notice as I certainly did from inside my box, that Maggie had very thoughtfully placed a buzzing vibrator inside my roped hands. Mistress knows that a little bit of breath restriction, a little bit of bondage and latex, a little bit of vibration and of course a face full of plastic can play havoc with my self control. But Mistress is in charge and she navigated her slave all the way 'to the edge' but, just a moment before, the vibrator was silenced. I’m not sure if Mistress allowed my head box an orgasm, but as soon as she had finished with me she diverted her vibrator and teasing attentions to the box and it was making an awful lot of noise, that is all I can say. My whole world was reverberating with the sound the vibrations were making, nothing but buzz buzz, bloody buzz!

I should also add that my self control was further tested by Mistress getting up close and personal inside the confines of the suspension frame. With the box lid open I could clearly see Mistress through the perspex, doing the most lewd gestures with her plastic pants only a few inches away from my captive face. Oh what a slave has to put up with, but I have to admit my liking of all things plastic had been rekindled by my rather wonderful Mistress.

Note the 7 brass studs in Maggie's new boots

Medication to help me appreciate my plastic environment was not forsaken either, sitting on the shelf by my right shoulder was a little bottle of aroma that Mistress kept offering to me. Another unconventional delivery; bottle straight up my nostril, other nostril blocked and told to 'breathe deeply slave'. That hit the spot!

Maggie, determined to continue my re-acclimatisation, retrieved and fitted me into the larger of the two green hazmat suits that we have both enjoyed wearing in the past. This time it was only me that was to be isolated and still wearing my rubber suit I was quickly sealed inside it and ordered onto the bed. Mistress set her electric air-pump to ‘suck’ mode and attempted to shrinkwrap me by removing all the air from within the hazmat suit.

That was one of the few ideas that didn't work. Not for want of trying, but the zip fastener didn't readily allow a sufficient seal around the pump nozzle, leading to an air of frustration, as more air seemed to be going in than being removed. ‘OK. Let’s forget about that idea,’ said Mistress and she just tidied the pump away.

The zip was pulled up fully sealing me inside the airtight suit. It was remarkable how little spare air there was inside the sealed suit and very soon I was begging hard for a welcome influx of clean fresh air. No matter, Maggie has other methods of leaving her slave breathless and promptly laid full length on my by now spread-eagled position on the latex bed.

To bring another excellent session to a close, Maggie treated her slave to a wonderful golden shower but delivered in a most unorthodox and unexpected way. Already sealed in two layers of rubber and hazmat plastic I was now being instructed to climb into a large slightly opaque plastic bag. I was given a gas mask and hose and once the opening had been knotted to keep me in my greenhouse environment, only the end of the hose was visible to the outside world and aroma vapour was being pumped into my mask.

Maggie directed short bursts of her warm shower over various parts of my plastic covered body. I could feel that lovely warm feeling as Maggie pee'd on my face, my body, my groin and anywhere else she could direct the stream, and I was again very frustrated at all that lovely nectar bouncing off my well protected body and gathering in a large pool on the protective sheet Maggie had wisely laid on the floor. It’s a good job that Mistress has a large safety sheet because it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

The poppers delivery pipe we used was designed and created by Maggie’s husband John and is a remarkable piece of kit.

For a final, rather nice touch to bring our seventh year to a fitting climax and move forwards into year eight, Mistress peeled back the plastic as far as my shoulders and released me from my mask. Looking straight into my eyes Mistress told me to open my mouth, after the downpour I would not have believed there was anything left, but standing over my eager mouth she let out a stream of her nectar and her slaves thirst was quenched.

Was I allowed to climax. No.

Was I bothered? No. More importantly, I think Mistress had an enjoyable 7th birthday' session.

Was I converted to a plastic pervert? No not really. I already enjoy all the materials, including plastic, that Mistress Maggie allows me to experience and no matter how much plastic I was exposed to I still had my rubber clad Mistress, my rubber suit and my rubber hood and my rubber eye mask and my rubber gas mask and . . .

I think my Mistress knows, I am addicted to her and anything else is just a secondary bonus.

Nippling Day

Perhaps today will go down in history as the start of a new tradition. Mistress Maggie had accumulated quite a few negative comments about the recent poor performance of my nipples, and today she would be pulling out all the stops to rectify the matter. In fact, when I had completed my normal homage to the immaculate white platform boots that covered her legs, kneeling to attention with arms behind awaiting my slave orders, Mistress presented me with a written notice of her intentions.

There was a drawback to that however, as without my glasses I had no chance of reading the notice and had to ask Mistress to narrate its contents. Suffice is to say it pointed out, in particular, the shortcomings that were evident during our last session, while the fact that I had to beg for the recitation only added to my owners displeasure.

Mistress took a little time deciding which of my latex suits I should wear for her. I have previously mentioned that I’d obtained a thinner, tighter catsuit, but Mistress had doubts about the zip openings being large enough to insert her strap-on, or even my trusty butt plug from some angles. Only one way to check the dimensions, squeeze me in and try it out. Unfortunately it’s impossible for me to get into the catsuit on my own, but I am fortunate that Maggie likes to help dress me in latex, her guiding and smoothing hands feel simply delightful and she soon had me encased in its smooth black skin.

And so Nippling Day started. First of all I was ordered to place the low bench in centre stage of the Playroom and lie down on it, making sure I had my head nice and comfortable on the latex pillow provided. It all sounds so gentile and refined, but really it was just lining up my body for Act 1.

Mistress said that because she wanted a good hard cock for her play I wouldn’t be receiving any poppers infusions, yet in order to make my nipples meet her desired standards some robust speed training was needed, and as it was likely to be uncomfortable I would have to be subdued by other methods. Initial disappointment soon gave way to a deep smile as Maggie straddled my face in her clear latex clad tights and her bottom descended onto my face. It may have subdued my breathing and repeat performances made me positively breathless, but it certainly didn't subdue other parts. Top that with a change of orientation and Maggie’s marvellous chest came into very close proximity with my hooded face, then moving in closer my features disappeared into her cleavage. That breathtaking smothering also did nothing to subdue those parts away from my nose and mouth.

The nipple zips opened and quite a lot of talc was rubbed onto each nipple. We discovered that the nipple zips on the new suit were slightly narrower than we are used to, making the application of the white little bastards Maggie had chosen, quite awkward. It took three goes to get the nipples exposed and nipped properly, worse for my nipples because with each try Maggie grabbed them and pinched them before clamping them between the nippers teeth. Once instated I wore them for a while as Maggie kindly rested her latex bottom on my face to distract me from the pain. By the time Maggie decided to knock my nipple training up a notch, my nipples were already feeling somewhat abused and sore and when the clover clamps were successfully attached I was starting to feel quite sorry for my predicament!

Now I was un-roped and standing up with the clover clamps dangling, my disappointing nipples felt like they were being really tested. I thought Maggie was being most mischievous when she suggested I clean up my dribbles from the upholstered bench, the nippling I had received had worked up a sweat which had managed to seep out through my crotch zip. I had to scrub it thoroughly and scrub it repeatedly while Maggie began acclimatising my nipples to carrying weights. The first two small ones were tolerable but she kept gradually adding more, in the meantime I was to continue scrubbing . . . ‘Come on slave. Scrub harder!’. . . scrub, scrub, scrub, all the time the bloody weights were swinging away on my nipples and worse, I had to really concentrate to make sure they didn't drop off again (clamps not nipples). Finally the upholstery was deemed clean enough and I was instructed to put the bench back where it belonged.

For a brief moment I thought I was about to receive a little kindness. Mistress suggested I could rest the weights on the high horse, letting it take their weight. Jumping at the opportunity was a definite no no, that would have been far too painful a stunt to perform. Slow and careful was a much better option, and even then I managed to accidentally knock them against the horse, but once the weights were resting, oh what a relief. I was allowed to rest for a few minutes before Maggie latched a lead on my collar and instructed me to stand up straight and take a walk with her. A couple of circuits round the playroom following my Mistress on a close leash then told to rest the weights again, and so it went on. Rest them, stand up again and the pain was worse after the rest.

I am certain my owner knew that would happen!

Act 2 started well, or at least I thought so. Out came the ‘serving’ tray that I had proudly worn last time I served Mistresses friends. Unfortunately, this time, my owner had decided that my nipples would form an integral part of this scene and obviously her serving tray should be supported from my nipple chain, not loosely either. Maggie adjusted the chains so that when I stood up straight the chains pulled on the nipples and any extra weight that Maggie laughingly applied just added pain onto my existing discomfort. I am certain there was real joy in her voice as she sent me off to the bathroom to refill her drinking glass 'And mind you don't damage any more of my furniture’. I took it slowly making steady progress through the doorways and returned very carefully clutching the glass of water. I presented it to my Mistress only to be reprimanded. 'Slave, what is the tray for?' Sometimes I can't do anything right.

'Fetch the weights from the White Room, slave’. Off I trotted, finding two sets of weights on the windowsill I decided to take both back because if I only took one set it was bound to be the wrong one. It was excruciating but I placed both sets on the tray for the journey back to the Playroom. With hindsight, possibly one set may have been better for my nipples as with that mischievous laugh Mistress hung both pairs from the tray chains and had me move round to get used to the pressure of the heavier weights. 'Well you must have wanted all the weights as you brought them.'

Act 3 was to be played out in the Clinic. Strapped down so securely so as to make movement and resistance impossible, Mistress said she was going to re-apply the clamps that had so ignominiously fallen off last time and which then became the prime mover for this nipple torture day. First of all though we tested out the appropriateness of the rear zip. We needn't have been concerned, when opened to its maximum the zip allowed easy insertion of my trusty plug. I think we were both pleased and it does mean my owner has two black costume options for me; heavy weight or lighter and tighter.

Of course, I couldn't see the nipple clamps being used but could certainly feel their application onto my already sensitive little buds. Each one was being tightened in turn and then some fiddling; a sensation as if something was being attached and I had the uneasy feeling that the 'something' were wires. Never mind, I had other more pulling demands to concentrate on as I felt other sensations happening below. Mistress was stretching my ball sac and then applying some tight clamp. With that wicked laugh I could feel my balls being pulled away from my body and becoming a lot tighter. Despite all the other excitement of Act 3 this stretching was superb, and when additional weight was added to the ball stretching it was very pleasurable to say the least; another comment I may have been wiser not to include in the blog!

As I lay there taking in the rubber smell from the anaesthetic mask that Maggie had quietly applied, I could hear Mistress relieving herself in the plastic jug, I heard the contents being poured out and anticipated I may be drip fed her nectar through my mask and tube, as my owner frequently supplies such treats. However, nothing so thirst quenching today, her liquids had been dispensed into a bubble bottle and I was left burbling away as the electrics were pulsing away.

Yes, I can confirm that Mistresses wooden clamps held really firm, the nipple fiddling was in fact wires and that my sensitive nipples were subjected to a good prolonged jolt of pulsing electrical stimulation, a sensation that I could only have imagined without Maggie’s nipple stretching intervention. Meanwhile my balls were being increasingly stretched at the other end. As Mistress announced that she was switching her estim up to number 9, Act 3 had a big spurt of drama, I just couldn’t control myself any longer, embarrassing myself by cumming there and then. Another strange phenomena occurred at level 9, with my balls now emptied one of them managed to escape the clutches of the stretcher, earning me the name of ‘One Ball Jo’.

There was one more act to perform before the curtain finally came down. After I had been cleaned up and de-wired Mistress Maggie wanted some of her own fun and knelt in the recently vacated spot on the couch with her wonderful butt right in front of my eyes, I was directed towards it and told to clean her little bud, and clean and lick I did. Perhaps the detail to the Nippling Day finale is better left untold. But I can say that I attempt a very good job of arse licking and I think Maggie was actually enjoying this end to another exciting session and I have to say, my Mistress has the most perfect bottom that I have ever had the pleasure to lick.

Perhaps the last Friday in October will go down in the calendar as the day for sorting out errant nipples, perhaps we should call it Nippling Day? I will let you know if Friday 26th October 2018 is designated for a repeat performance of that ancient tradition of Nippling a slave, providing my owner hasn't fired her slave by then.

Damn those Beautiful Eyes

It was oppressively hot; the summer solstice; the hottest day of the year so far. I hadn't seen my owner for three weeks and five days and flowers were the order of the day. And so I arrived, shirt sleeves and no coat despite the slight threat of thunder, but I knew there was definitely going to be a thunder storm in the Chambers because of my previously identified poor shaving. The door was opened by a vision in gold. Mistress appears a young 38, or at a pinch 40, yet on one of her profiles I thought I had read she was 50+. I know Mistress Maggie is always right because Rule 6 says Mistress is never wrong, so it is quite obvious that I had made a mistake or somehow misread the literature. She can't be over 50. Along with not making mistakes, Mistress doesn't forget anything either!

I didn't have long enough to admire her immaculately coiffured jet black hair and her radiant beauty, because I was drawn to her gold latex rear as she leashed my slave collar, keeping me on a very short rein as we ascended to the Playroom. Her face wasn't alone in radiating warmth. Try as I know I should, I couldn't prevent my nose occasionally brushing those wonderfully smooth, golden orbs, feeling her warmth and smelling that perfume that only latex can generate.

Red guiche, red plug and red arse!

A quick-change visit to the bathroom had me hooded and worshipping her black high heels just as Mistress likes; long, slow, wet licks along both shoes. I was trying to make my worship last as long as I could, hoping to distract Mistress from what I knew was coming! As I said, Mistress doesn't forget and true to her word my shaving infraction was next on her agenda.

I was taken on a walk on my lead, several times round the playroom while Mistress explained what I should expect. At least I remembered how to 'walk' to heel, close to Mistresses thigh so she can control her pet, interspersed with the odd crack from her butterfly shaped crop. Maggie explained that I wouldn't be getting a set number of lashes, nor would I receive my beating with a set implement, but instead I would receive a good lathering applied in a random fashion - just like my shaving!

And so it was that I was secured over the high horse and received the most severe beating that I have ever experienced. On quite a few occasions Mistress paused saying 'straighten up slave' and beating me some more. I lost count of how many strokes and with what implement, it did draw tears as I bucked and jerked on the horse and have to admit that I virtually lost it with the amount of pain radiating from my bottom. Mistress explained I had received random strokes with; studded paddle, beach shoe, a two finger tawse, a thick double leather strap finishing with the Delrin cane. I survived - just, but I need to apologise to Maggie for being such a wimp during my chastisement.

Who's a bright spark now?

Did I mention that it was the hottest day so far? Well my backside ended up considerably hotter and I was sweating like the proverbial oink. Whether it was the profuse sweating, the lube up my bumhole or just its wonderful flexibility, but I was soon feeling my new, ribbed, red, flexible butt plug being easily inserted where the sun don’t shine.

After a few moments to recover and with the help of a little talc, Maggie had me easily inserted in my heavyweight black rubber catsuit as well, and I was soon on the latex sheets with wrists chained to the bed ready for Mistress to continue her plan.

I was exhausted after my beating and could barely raise my head from the soft latex pillow, but I could just see Maggie doing this and that, retrieving equipment from here or there then I got a clear vision of her standing level with my exposed cock and balls and drizzling some delightfully cool liquid from a small bottle. What a wonderful Mistress I thought, on the hottest day she is cooling her slave and massaging that coolant all around the base of my shaft and balls. I have said I am owned by the perfect Mistress.

After a little firmer manipulation I realised Mistress was doing a little more than just cooling her property, and although I couldn't see the results this picture never lies. The cooling lubricant was obviously electro-conducting gel to ensure I was a good conductor for the electro chastity cage. Yes - YESSSS Mistress I am definitely getting a response!

Hot and happy.

'Today slave you are going to be my rubber play toy’. . . off came my working mask and on went the heavier, tighter system mask, which certainly helped with my transformation. I lay there manacled and enjoying the situation immensely, apart from when Mistress used her remote control to vary the electronics, that made me enjoy the situation far too much and I groaned a request to Maggie, may I cum?

‘Of course not, you are my play toy’, and off went the electrics for a while leaving a most frustrated slave. I lay there perspiring but very happy. I could hear and get occasional glances of Mistress preparing the bondage Plank and placing the heavy leather sleep sack on top of it. Once ready I was instructed to ease myself onto the Plank, distribute my vast bulk evenly along it and shuffle until I was comfortably inside the sack.

Quiet, you fool!

To say it was warm inside was somewhat of an understatement, but I think I could still manage to drop off to sleep if allowed. No chance. A quick, heavy burst of the electrics every now and then accompanied by whiffs of aromas, applied using the feeding cup up one nostril method, guaranteed I remained wide awake.

You may have gathered that I have a tendency to talk too much and dare I say, waffle a little. I can't help it when I am in my owners company. Mistress knows that I waffle and shortly after I suggested that she cannot possibly be 50, Mistress used another of the system masks’ components to shut me up, but only after she had laughingly asked if I would like to accompany her when she goes to have her birth certificate altered. I love her sense of humour.

I gazed up at Maggie, who by now had brought her high stool to the head of the plank, she sat with her headphones on enjoying some music on her iPod, she swayed rhythmically and very evocatively, letting out a big smile each time she sent another electric blast into my cock cage and up my cock shaft.

This went on for some time before she casually slid down her crotch zip and started caressing herself, inches from my eyes. I looked longingly at my Mistress knowing that was definitely forbidden territory for a simple slave and then gazed into her eyes that were dreamily half closed as she continued to finger her pussy. Those eyes have helped captivate this slave and countless other lucky men. You could just drown in their unfathomable depths.

Enough! At last Mistress stepped down from her stool, re-zipped and seated herself comfortably on a very eager face. By now I was acutely aware that I was swimming inside the sleep sack but Maggie was also aware of the situation and had been plying me with regular sips of water through a rubber straw, not as good as the real McCoy but very welcome all the same. I needn't have fretted, Mistress was to treat me to some proper fluid intake and donned her piss-pants.

Another pillow to assist with my drinking position, another inflatable system gag but this time with a drinking tube attached, and I was about to receive my much sought after infusion from a very full piss reservoir. Not all at once. Mistress knows my limitations and turns her flow tap on and off to provide me with a couple of gulps at a time, as I suck to receive the most welcome drink you could imagine. A little warm if I am honest, but wow, a superb vintage. I have to admit that there was so much available and although in a reasonable drinking position, I could not consume all my wine and Mistress ended up having to waste part of her outpouring. ‘Pity, as I have a particularly full bladder today’ she said. She certainly did and I am certain that when I am in a more upright position, I would not waste even one drop.

Mistress had said I was to be her rubber play toy, however, when she removed the electric chastity device from me I detected a note of disdain, obviously brought on by the sight of the horrible shrunken thing that fell out of it. Maggie said that a vac pump would be an appropriate thing to use on it, an 'encourager' to draw a little size back into her pathetic cock. Mmm, perhaps I might finally be allowed some relief from all my pent up tension?

No chance. Mistress was not going to permit any orgasms. She lubed the area to get a good airtight seal and pumped up the cock and kept pumping ‘. . . even if it’s going hurt, because big cocks are more fun to play with.’ Five minutes later, still pump, pump, pump. . .

It didn't hurt but I was still throbbing with pent up frustration. I know I should not think of my owner Mistress Maggie in such terms but I cannot help myself even after years of training, that I find her stunningly attractive. At least I can withhold an orgasm now. . .

Er. Until I got home of course!