Showing posts with label hoods and masks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hoods and masks. Show all posts

Friday, 23 January 2026

Needles and Pins

I have just been part of a most sensational and sensual session, where I believe I witnessed Mistress Maggie in her most happy state following her excellent performance with her slave. No Plan B's, no anxious moments, just the most wonderful pinning all over my torso.


I had to attend with minimal latex. “Pack your kit bag with your black shorts, accessories and your butt plug”, Mistress had instructed. And from that minimalistic wardrobe, only the socks and gloves would eventually be required; no shorts, no butt plug.


From the moment Mistress opened the door to The Chambers, it only took a few seconds before I felt I where I needed to be; in the zone. Maggie, with her hair in a bun, was wearing her black latex nurse’s dress adorned with red accents, and of course, red medical crosses complementing her nurse cap. Around her waist, a corset belt, not that it’s needed as she has a stunning body. I did notice, rather unusually that Mistress was wearing brown latex gloves normally associated with some form of medical procedure. Once more, from that moment I knew I wanted to do anything and everything to please my Mistress. My promise briefly flashed into my mind as a reminder, but it is already etched into my mind so I didn't dwell there.


That familiar urge to plant a loving kiss on her rounded orbs was suppressed as we mounted the staircase. I know one of these days my urge might overcome my training and heaven knows what reaction I’d receive from Maggie if I do 'accidentally' brush my lips against her cheeks.


In The Playroom, in a near naked state of just latex gloves and socks, I set about my first task of worshipping Mistresses shoes. Yes, flat black functional footwear without the same lickable, worshipable expanse as a pair of boots. Mistress knew I would have to move frequently to lick every part and took advantage by keeping her riding crop moving; giving the exposed parts of my back and bum a good thwacking with her crop, with little mercy shown in her blows.


It was at this point I glanced Maggie’s session notes for today, they looked voluminous and typed, Maggie must have put a lot of work and time into her session planning and referred to her notes frequently for confirmation that she’d not missed any part of them out. The first was offering her slave the choice of large or small anal beads as I knelt on the latex bed. A choice! Maggie was already playing a very devious game as she knows me well enough that I always go with whatever she desires so... I bottled out and said nothing. I anticipated that would result in the large string being inserted but no, one by one the four smaller beads passed my sphincter, each one accompanied by a very satisfying 'plop' as it entered the black hole.


Led by my collar through to The Clinic, I sat on the side of The Couch as instructed and was fitted with a nasal cannula. (The cannula pump system is one of Maggie's husband, John's, wonderful inventions). A couple of pieces of medical tape were used to prevent it from shifting while I had a red latex hood put on. Mistress spent a little time ensuring all holes were lined up then I was zipped in. It felt like I was once more becoming an anonymous rubber plaything, moreso when I was given a black rubber operating gown to put on, covering me down to my knees.


All the while, Maggie had adopted a very authoritarian stance with concise instructions, all delivered in a manner associated with a nurse or sister, sympathetic yet severe. A distinct smell of antiseptic filled the room, even the lighting was staged like a surgery, the main lights were dimmed low and the bright white light of an adjustable lamp was aimed directly at my face. It certainly appeared that Maggie meant business, in an unusual and disturbing way.


Mistress displayed a cold, clinical detachment to her patient as she laid out a tray with an assortment of needles, syringes and various other items that she would need for my treatment, along with bandages that were soon to render my hands useless.


Left hand first, I had to clench my hand into a fist whilst holding the end of the stretchy bandage and Maggie proceeded to wrap my hand, quite tight but very comfortable. By the time she had finished I was left with a stump where my hand used to be and to ensure the bandage remained secure, a wrap of cling film was applied. This was one of the most effective hand restraints that Mistress had ever applied and my right hand went on to receive exactly the same incarceration. I did start to worry a little because there was NO WAY I could get myself out of this pickle, but there again Maggie appeared happy and that was all I needed.


The next choreographed part involved Mistress quietly taking my blood pressure and using her cold stethoscope on various parts of my trunk and, regularly recording something, presumably the results, on a clipboard. Still recording on her clipboard I was asked questions about my physical health, which were either ignored or ridiculed, and that was before we even began discussing my small penis. My nurse certainly knew how to demean her patient! In all honesty, I was LOVING the humiliation by my beautiful nurse.


After a further consultation with her notes, I was informed that because I had failed to respond well to conventional treatment for my ailments, Protocol 17 would have to be used. Hmmm! Once again I was starting to become a little more concerned, particularly when Protocol 17 was explained to me as being a series of corrective injections. Their purpose was not to heal me, but provide re-education through discomfort.

Up went the gown to be tucked out of the way under my chin, allowing for body straps to secure me to the couch. Large amounts of surgical spirit, probably far more than necessary, were poured all over my stomach, cock, balls and thighs and spread about the area with an oversized, saturated medical swab. The application to my chest was tolerable, but bloody hell, the dousing of spirit on my cock and balls didn’t half sting. There was nothing to do but grin and bear it until the stinging subsided. It’s not like a needle that can be removed to alleviate the issues and I lay there waiting for the itch to stop!


Whilst I was mastering the lower stinging, Mistress retrieved several ice blocks. ‘These will help with preventing bleeding’, she announced. I was convinced by this, but in hindsight I think my nurse may have been bamboozling her patient. In any case, Maggie applied each ice pack to an area she wanted to work on next and they were COLD! Exactly what you'd expect from an ice pack.


Just how to say please

  And get down on my knees

Yeah, that's how it begins

  I'll feel those needles and pins

Hurtin' me, hurtin' me


By now Mistress was starting to refer to my body as just a slab of meat to play with and things began to get more alarming, one by one Maggie presented the syringes and needles before my eyes, so I got a real close up view of each one whilst she contemplated which to use first. Syringes were the first to be selected and Maggie carefully filled one with saline from a plastic vial and proceeded to stick it somewhere in my trunk, inject some of the saline then jab me in another location to empty it of the remaining contents, and there it was left, just dangling. This was repeated with several more syringes, each one left where it was after the contents were emptied. Although I couldn't see I had visions of Mistress suddenly call, 'One Hundred and Eighty', as each dart stuck in the dartboard.


Having skewered her meat with syringes Mistress moved on to the needles. At first their deployment was somewhat random, the shorter needles were inserted wherever Maggie fancied stabbing her piece of meat. The longer needles, once again paraded right in front of my eyes were going to be placed in a more structured manner. There were to be two patches of needles in specific patterns and others used for weaving. Bearing in mind that Mistress was constantly moving the ice block to the next area of embroidery, my cock and balls were now quite cold so that was the first point to receive clustered needles. At least Mistress was gracious enough to allow me some aromas now to reduce the pain of needles being inserted round my bell end, about eight of them I think.


Whilst this was going on, a large patch on the right side of my stomach was being super cooled and that would be the next sticking point! Not to put too fine a point on it, I was starting to feel like a pin cushion. Not only were the large needles deployed, Mistress appeared very happy whilst deploying six cannula needles at random, with one being pierced through my left nipple. That one was by far the worst of all my injections and I had to beg for more aromas, fortunately I was allowed a long puff.


Mistress reminded me that I was just a treatment site now, and that I would continue to receive the treatment that my nurse wanted until I chose to show more gratitude. At this point I started saying a lot of thank you’s, because, despite what nurse might think, I am always grateful for any and all the time she is prepared to allocate to her subject.


The gratitude was stretched even further when Nurse started attaching electrodes to the various pins and needles that now adorned the meat, enhanced with an electro pinwheel just to provide a little 'mobile' treatment. Then more of my nurse’s correctional saline injections, oh the joy! The things I willingly do for my Mistress/Nurse! And the final part of my treatment was introduction of the violet wand. This is definitely not something to be scoffed at, although I am full of gratitude on learning that there’s a limit to the power you can safely use with Mistress’s modified vintage machine.


Mistress removed 42+ needles and took care of the few bleeding spots that had occurred about my person. Because of the cold water run off from the ice packs, the couch had become messy and needed a good clean. It is remarkable how much mess can be created by a lot of water and a little amount of the red stuff. By comparison I had got off scot-free, at least I wasn’t leaking all over the place.


I will finish off with the lyrics of a song I discovered recently and wish to dedicate the sentiments to my wonderful Mistress Maggie. I would also add that this was one of the most relaxing sessions that I have experienced in terms of going exactly to plan, due to Maggie's mindset, comprehensive notes, instructions and guidance, a plan B was never required and I think she had a good time sticking pins and needles in her slab of meat.


With one wave of your hand

  I'm your slave to command

But I'm glad it's okay

  Oh, anything you say I'm like a hunk of clay


And that describes exactly what it felt like to be treated by the best of the best!

Friday, 14 November 2025

Clear Idea

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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


Definitely Purple not black

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


Thank you Mistress.