Festive Red Head

Hardly time to close The Chambers front door, take off coat and shoes and Mistress Maggie had a lead snapped onto my slave collar and leading me up the stairs in very close proximity to her black latex clad bottom. Again with some haste, I left the festive red catsuit spread out to warm on the rubber bed, changed into my red latex socks and gloves, and knocked gently on the playroom door awaiting permission to enter. Lick, kiss and caress Mistresses black court shoes as she lay supine alongside my catsuit on the latex bed; then as instructed, head down on carpet and in went the butt plug at whirlwind speed. Talc'd and inserted into the rubber suit and that was that, preliminaries over.
I could see the Plank ominously leaning against the far wall, but for now I could only guess whether it would be used.

Mistress sent me to The Clinic where I was told I would find a packet, with instructions to put on whatever was inside. I looked at the picture and the printed words and confirmed it was an electric cock cage. I opened it and emptied the contents onto a white towel that had been laid out for me. It soon became clear that I might have a bit of trouble locking it on, what with my long latex gloves on it was tricky to even grip the device.

After fumbling for a while I finally managed to disassemble the cage and attempted to snap a ring on behind my balls, however visibility down below was poor due to my fat belly. Then I sensed that Mistress was behind me with a question ’What's the delay slave?’, I explained the problems with the gloves. The solution was simple; remove the gloves. Mind you, I had to half undress to do it! My fault of course, I should have worn the gloves over the suit. Mistress had considerately thought that it would be less stimulating for her cock if I’d had to fit the cock cage by myself. Oh well, learn for next time. Instead, locking up Maggie’s jewels with padlock and key turned out to be a four handed assignment.

I don't know why, but when I read in the calling mail . . . Be prepared to be inflated for longer and higher this time. . . , I thought it referred to either inflating my ball sac again or wearing the nice inflatable hood for an extended period. I never expected to have two large bardex balloons inserted up my bum, along with the enema that Mistress emptied into my bowels and said in a low sexy voice, ‘You will hold that until the very end of your training today’.

All the while I was receiving the enema, Mistress was either massaging my abdomen to make more room for more enema, or helping me relax by administering aroma onto a pad inside the anaesthetic mask which she’d strapped to my face. That was most effective, I was enjoying feeling more and more full but unable to accommodate the ensuing erection because of the cock cage. Oh what a beautiful sensation.

As soon as Maggie determined that her slave was full enough, we moved back to The Playroom and that is where The Plank came into play. Its steel legs were attached and Mistress produced a large roll of red shrink-wrap to create a light wrap, from my knees, past my well filled bowels and up as far as my neck. Like a good slave I rotated when told to avoid giving Maggie the run-around. Mistress guided me towards the Plank where I lay down and was firmly attached to it with a lot more turns of the red plastic wrap.

I felt deeply moved (in more ways than just the enema) as Maggie produced and fitted a red plastic hood that she had crafted just for her slave. I eagerly sealed my lips around a breathe through gag as the hood was finally strapped in place. Learning from a previous experience where my rubber sock was accidentally ripped when I wore boots, Maggie remembered to put cotton socks on my feet before padlocking my legs into the most immobilising pair of bondage boots. A very warm hair dryer was played over my new red plastic skin. I felt good, tightly secure and ready for some 'unusual' suspension.

The picture shows how I ended up, but not before a little more stupidity from me and a lot more laughter from both of us.

‘Don’t wriggle or move’, was my instruction as Maggie began raising the Plank on the pulleys, unscrewing the legs so it could hang freely, first one end raised then the other.

It was at this point that my enema decided to relocate itself and I couldn’t help wriggling to accommodate it. I must have put the low suspended Plank off balance and, ever so slowly, like the Poseidon Adventure, the whole plank capsized at starboard side, until I was on my side with my breathing tube touching the carpet.

There was a moments silence and I thought what brilliant and unusual suspension. The wrap held very firm; I was still attached to The Plank; I was perfectly happy and then Maggie cracked out laughing and said ‘I told you not to move’. One thing’s for sure, I am living proof that it is still possible to laugh your head off even with an inflated gag filling your mouth! It took longer for our laughter to subside than for Maggie to return her planked slave back into a horizontal position and complete her planned diagonal suspension.

A Mistresses work on her slaves is never done. Using her fingernails Maggie picked her way through the shrink wrap to expose both nipples and groin, and switched the electric cock cage to ON. What a devilishly fiendish device that cock cage turned out to be.

Maggie knows her slave well and set a nice rhythmic pulsing through the cage. Nipple clamps next, red ones. I have had them before but today they were extra effective and I screamed through the gag as they bit home. Maggie said that a good dose of aroma would help me accept my painful predicament. There was a port in the red hood just above my left ear and Maggie had been using it to send in breaths of air, but now used it to insert an aroma infused pad.

When 'told' I made the conscious effort to unseal my lips from the gag and take a lungful of air from inside the hood. Ah yes - it did help but the clamps still bloody well hurt.

After a while Mistress removed my rubber breathing gag and something else was pushed into my plastic mouth hole. My instant reaction was to bite down on it, unfortunately it was Mistresses thumb. Word of advice: Never bite the hand that feeds you, or thumb in this case. Up went the electrics to Program 2 level 25. I wont do that again! The pain almost matched that through the nipple clamps.

As often happens when returned to a manageable level, the electrics milked me. No choice. No option. Uncontrollable. That is probably why it is called e-stim.
I then realised Mistress was serious when she said I was going home in the cage as she took one of the keys, sealed it in an envelope for absolute emergencies only, and marked it in such I way that she’d know if it had been tampered with. I was to return on Monday to be released.

Now unwrapped and with ballet boots and suit removed we moved carefully to the bathroom. Maggie deflated the double bardex and slowly removed the enema tube. I clenched my buttocks tight shut until safely on the porcelain then all hell was let loose. I was pleased when Mistress closed the door and returned to the Playroom, leaving me to my own devices.

I will do absolutely anything for Mistress Maggie, but I do draw the line at gassing her with the results of a long held soapy enema.

If you were following my previous blog, yes I was treated to another superb mince pie and I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and continue to enjoy reading about my excellent sessions with a truly remarkable Mistress and friend. Long may they continue.

Leather Bondage

Despite always trying to give 100% to please my Mistress, I seem to often get things wrong, and today I was really in her bad books. I had misunderstood some instructions that Mistress Maggie had given me and ended up creating unnecessary work for her, not good as Maggie already had an extremely busy week with little time to spare. I hoped that I could redeem myself, but there is always a consequence for poor work and so it emerged in my calling mail . . . Mistress is ready to administer some strict leather and discipline. It will be horizontal stripes aplenty . . . 

I was to receive a caning, cropping, tawsing or something similar to encourage better attention. I thought it might be a good idea to save Mistress some time and arrive wearing my butt plug, and wear my latex socks in an attempt to please her. The moment I entered, Maggie snapped a lead on my slave collar and marched me upstairs. Perhaps Maggie did have a heart and she appreciated my attempts to ingratiate myself.

None of it. I was slapped, hard, several times and sent to the bathroom, this time to remove the socks and butt plug and return to the playroom wearing nothing rubber at all. In the bathroom there was a note taped to the wall.

It was quite clear. 20 strokes of the cane. My heart sank because I knew there was no changing the course of my punishment. Maggie had decided twenty and twenty I would receive, but before the formalities, Mistress was going to have a bit of fun with her slave. I was ordered to demonstrate how I’d inserted my plug at home, and was pleased that I managed to contort myself in a way that I could slip it in easily. Yes, and it slipped out again just as easily as Maggie promptly pulled it out of my ass and reinserted it the way 'she likes to do it'.

I was allowed a tight latex hood, which I was to wear for worship of Mistresses high heeled leather thigh boots, then while my tongue was still out Maggie suggested I might like to put it to work making something that was perfect even more perfect. She eased down her tight black leather trousers then her briefs, leaned over the whipping horse and tugged on my leash, forcing my nose right between her bum cheeks, I licked and sucked and licked and cleaned Mistresses arse hole until it shone. It was not enough, Maggie said I should learn what it’s like to be busy and should lick her arse faster and faster. Actually when I was finally told to stop Mistresses arse hole did shine with all my saliva, and at last Maggie said I had made an adequate job with my licking.

It was now my time over the horse but I was to be tied down so I couldn't move. Maggie asked if I had worked out how many strokes I would be receiving and laughed saying that she’d given a big hint in my calling mail - ’Stripes aplenty ...' rhymes with twenty!  I just smiled and thought of Rule 13: Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times.

At least, the routine for a caning punishment is well established. A good five minutes hand slaps as warm up then change to the cane. Tap tap tap to gauge range, a couple of swishes, maybe a couple more range finders then THWACK followed by searing pain as the cane bites. A few moments to let me catch my breath, then swish tap tap THWACK. 

At 15 strokes Maggie asked how many. Don't make the mistake of not counting. ’15 Mistress’, I said confidently and it suddenly got easier. 16, 17, 18, 19 and finally 20. Remembering my earlier punishment, I very rapidly said ‘Thank you Mistress for helping to correct my failures’. At least I didn't earn another 20!. 

20 horizontal and perfectly parallel, symmetrical wheals that are still tender after three days. You can also just see more results of my carelessness on the floor. Talcum powder from my socks formed neat highlights at each footfall. I had to clean that up as well but not until Maggie had removed my plug and replaced it with a pumped up double bardex, just in case . . .

I must admit, it must be quite amusing for Mistress to witness her slave waddling around with the bulb knocking between my knees. I was just relieved to be told to replace the flogging horse back in its position beneath the window. Then I set about attacking my footsteps with a damp towel. That bit at least pleased my Mistress as all the talc prints disappeared.

Formalities over, Maggie was now going to convert me into a leather object by incarcerating her slave inside her leather sleep sack. My tight latex hood was replaced with the even tighter pewter inflatable one; a very comfortable model with sealed plastic lenses and breathing tube. Maggie chose to keep it deflated while she helped me inch myself into the heavy leather sleep suit. There are internal arm pockets and once zipped, laced and tightly strapped in I was in danger of falling over. Mistress, as you would expect, had thought of that and strapped me securely to the bars of the cell before fitting my head into a leather head cage. 

The head cage was a bit of a struggle for Maggie due to my height, but eventually I heard the click as the two halves fastened in place and its neck strap fixed with a buckle. A bulb pump was used to inflate my hood and as the hood inflated, given the restraints of the head cage there was only one way the pressure could go, inwards, making my face feel like it was in concrete. As added security, Mistress secured a stout chain through the shoulder straps and over the top bar of the cell door. Even if I wanted to I could not collapse in a heap on the floor.

Every now and then, Maggie appeared in my very limited field of vision, I could just make out through the misted perspex eye pieces that very disarming smile as she poked her finger in the end of the breathing tube to restrict my air supply. What could I do? Absolutely nothing, so I just thought of Maggie and hoped she got her finger out before I ran out of air. She did, but this was an intense hooding and breathplay experience, the simple act of gasping for available air was exerting, as I said, my head felt like it was cast in concrete, the pressure from the inflated hood prevented any facial movement and my mouth remained closed and clamped around my mouth tube.

I only got a small taste of this unique hooding sensation as Maggie had other plans for her leather object and after a little more breath control Maggie deflated the hood. At last I could take a large welcome gasp of air and check if I was able to still move my jaw.

The discreet entrances at cock and nipples were opened and Maggie attached a cock strap and reins at the bottom end and rather severe screw on nipple clamps at the top openings. Maggie had been toying with the idea of administering an enema through the bardex, but fortunately for me the bulb had managed to move into an unreachable position, so Maggie was satisfied with sitting on her throne and pulling on the cock strap, waggling the ropes until it came off. The cock strap not the cock! Although by now I was close to my cock cumming off.

The last vestiges of rubber were removed as my hood was replaced with a padded leather isolation hood. Comfy but all enveloping and impossible to see through. I was now exactly what Mistress had set out to achieve; her leather play slave.

To make matters even more leathery, Maggie gently eased her delicious leather covered buttocks against my groin and I just made out through the heavy hood her asking me a question.

‘Do you like leather slave?’.

Of course I love leather, Mistress had already told me I love leather. My easy reply, ‘Oh yes Mistress’.

'Then you can fuck my leather clothes slave’

As I thrust my groin against her leather clad body, Maggie persisted with her teasing. Nipples were still available and received the most sensual nibbling and biting a slave could ever dream of. The warm lips first on one nipple then the other, then the biting teeth nibbling a nipple and her leather glove covering my tiny air holes.

It was now that I realised why Maggie had attached the steel chain. I just sagged with the pure sensations that Mistress had created in her leathery toy. When she finally cropped the end of my cock and instructed me to cum. I came. Maggie saw and Maggie conquered. A well satiated slave who will continue to do anything for his Mistress.

This leather sleep sack is one helluva piece of equipment, but then again Mistress Maggie is one helluva Mistress.

Tight Times Ahead

My vision of the session, as imprinted from Mistress Maggie's calling mail was clear, although the details were naturally very scant. This is another of Maggie's helpful tools to assist and guide a slave to experience the perfect sessions; the anticipation, the excitement, the mystery, thinking about how the flesh will play out on the bones of that mail. I still get nervous tension as session time approaches. The knot in the stomach, the excitement, but the doubt of the first sessions is now long gone and I really can't wait for the calling mail then spend the next 24 hours wishing my time away.

I arrived with "I am ready for some sleek and shiny dressing that is sure to take your breath away. I will be getting your training started for a forthcoming venture before leading you into a tight situation that is bound to have you tingling with delight." imprinted in my mind and was immediately greeted with . . . some sleek and shiny. . . as Mistress was wearing a long low cut dress, in tight black latex and wide stretchy belt, but most prominent was Maggie's long flowing auburn hair that cascaded over her shoulders to sit teasingly across the top of her chest. An absolute vision. This was going to be another good day.

Back from the bathroom wearing latex socks and gloves and of course my leather slave collar. Mistress made short work of inserting my butt plug, head to carpet, rump skywards, sufficient lube and its in, then helped me into my tight latex catsuit. Maggie had been thoughtful and allowed me to leave my suit warming in the Playroom whilst I changed in the bathroom, anyone putting on cold latex will appreciate this gesture. I was seated on the wooden chair and securely roped to it, its position meant I could comfortably watch all of Mistresses movements as she prepared for the next stage. I must have looked like the Churchill nodding dog as I followed Mistress round the Playroom, simply in awe of Maggie and with a big smile on my face.

On went the plastic bag. Ahh . . . take your breath away . . . To me it was just a plastic bag as Maggie fastened me inside with my slave collar, then tied my hands to my head and knotted with securing rope into my mouth. Not too effective as a gag, but perhaps it was the sensation of me chewing on plastic that Maggie wanted to achieve. Then the realization that Maggie wouldn't go to all this elaborate preparatory work only to have to destroy the bag when I gasped for air. Mistress had cleverly constructed two sealed chimneys at the top of her bag. For the first of many times, Mistress opened one corner of the bag and breathed a couple of her own lungfuls of life into her slave before re-sealing me in the airtight bubble. Thus Maggie was able to maintain her slave in breathless anticipation for far longer than just a plain simple sealed plastic bag would allow.

Maggie didn't help my concentration either, maybe she had been developing her language skills since our last session and had decided to practice them with her captive slave, but her voice had changed and I was receiving orders in a domineering eastern European accent. There I was concentrating on deep regular breaths to eek out the limited air when she opened my nipple zips and put two pegs on each nipple. I could see exactly what was coming but when they went on, talk about take your breath away. Ouch! Maggie knew the reaction and immediately gave me two more scheduled lungfuls of her air, and I took a good few slaps across my face for not utilizing her gift of the knot in my mouth as instructed. Mistress totally in charge of my air, occasionally nipping the nipples, even more occasionally giving a nibble on them to keep me guessing, and me loving the sensations and sweet scent of her breaths. Finally I got a kiss on my plastic covered knot filled mouth and I was one happy slave.

After all too short a time, Maggie moved on to the next part of the session explaining that in a future session she was planning to exhibit my obedience skills, a bit like Crufts I think, and I would, for now, be running through some of the disciplines that she will expect me to perform . . . training started for a forthcoming venture . . . I donned the knee pads, willingly accepted the lead and became Maggie's pet pooch. A cross between a great Dane and a podgy poodle, but a greyhound I ain't! Mistress explained each discipline as we progressed; firstly walking smartly to heel; then obedience, the stay and come commands, to retrieve a thrown object and finally rest quietly at Mistresses feet. Each exercise repeated until Maggie was satisfied with her pet. This was great fun and I tried hard to become her well trained dog. Fetching the slipper was probably the most fun and by this stage, if I had a visible tail, it would have been wagging profusely. Maggie seemed at least satisfied with her pet and I got a nice stroke after each exercise.

And then to the final parts of the calling mail . . . a tight situation . . . I have been subjected to clingfilm bondage before so knew roughly what to expect as Maggie stood me in the center of the room, asked me to secure one end of the wide roll of clingfilm under my right arm and then proceeded to walk round and round her slave tugging and smoothing the film as she went. My balance was fine and I was soon mummified with my hands comfortably securely by my sides.

Red Gaffer tape across shoulders and upper torso followed by the white PVC bandages around lower torso and legs, I would have made an attractive parcel. (For those of you who know ballet, I would recommend standing in a narrow 'first' position. This gives your feet the most stable spread and allows you to maintain balance during filming.) Probably the hardest part was getting from upright to lying on the latex bed, which now has a new mattress by the way. Although I was confident about just flopping backwards, Maggie sensibly attached a temporary rope halter round my chest to assist with the controlled descent once I had passed the tipping point. Safe and easy as it turned out as I trust Maggie to look after her property. Once prone, Mistress had some final wrapping to complete at feet and lower legs then moved to attend to her cock and balls that she had so thoughtfully left exposed during the wrapping.

Mistress is a true expert at this and I was ready in short-time for the final cling filming. A piece of the wide film wrapped from shoulders, over the top of the head and temporarily secured to my front. It is amazing how clear a single film is and I had crystal clear vision of Mistress as I lay there waiting. The final wrap was the narrower, more flexible film around the head, making sure the mouth was clear for breathing, and I was done. Completely covered firstly in my thick latex, then clingfilm then plastic bandages and gaffer tape.

Humph, Maggie is far too thorough in her planning! At least with all that tape, my nipples could recover from the clothes pegs. Fitting the cock and ball electrodes was a novel and new experience. Mistress fitted the electrodes at either side of her cock then secured them with a standard condom . . . tingling with delight . . .  In a previous session one electrode had managed to migrate from one ball to half way down my leg; not going to happen this time. A quick test of the attachments, just to be on the safe side of course, although I think for a little Maggie amusement as well and we were good to go for my final dressing. My already condom covered cock was then all topped off with the thick black sheath and ball cover through which Maggie carefully threaded the wires for the electrodes, cock and balls at the mercy of Mistress and her remote control.


I lay there for a while, couldn't do anything else, as Maggie pinched my nostrils shut and attached a re-breather bag to the Dragar mouthpiece. I was relaxed, breathing well and comfortable in the knowledge that I was in Maggie's charge.

Then I made a mistake and really should have known better. I am a simple and frequently stupid slave, and I was about to add greediness to my list of undesirable slave attributes. Mistress knew I would be getting warm and perspiring and offered a drink to quench my thirst. "Yeth pleathe" I lisped through the latex mouthpiece and relaxed as Maggie went to the bathroom to brew my refreshment. I sipped the first taste of nectar gently through the offered funnel and tube and thought I would be more bold with the next, determined to take a long swig, and I rather stupidly breathed in at the same time as taking a swig and I started choking.

There was no need to worry, the feeding tube was removed and I was eased onto my side to help recovery. Within seconds Maggie had her slave breathing easily and normally and imploring her not to cut off my film.

Mistress was satisfied that everything had settled down and after a quick referral to her comprehensive session plan, blanked off my vision with another judiciously placed piece of tape for the final part of training.

As a final note to any slaves who are fortunate to find themselves on the new latex bed, it is really comfortable but you need to make sure you leave room for Maggie to sit. I was initially too near the side of the bed and Mistress in her smooth latex skirt had a tendency to slip off the memory foam. That was probably the most difficult part of the training; needing to shuffle sideways in full tape and plastic jacket.

Vacuum Packed slave

Life as one of Mistress Maggie's slaves isn't all a bed of roses. Try as I might to avoid anything that would give Mistress Maggie the slightest excuse to administer additional punishment, I frequently end up with the juxtaposition by mentioning what I think are the most innocent and innocuous of things. Maggie is razor sharp when it comes to picking up even a hint of an excuse, then strikes like a coiled cobra to pounce and enthusiastically administer an extra flogging, strapping or caning to her useless slave. All fully deserved of course as Mistress is always right.

I had been told by Mistress that she was looking for a reason to thrash me, and demanding her time with ‘petty pedantries’ was enough to earn such a thrashing. I thought I was being helpful but Mistress, as always, knew I was being a smart arse so promptly set about giving me a smarting arse. The session got off the ground, literally as that cane does really make you jump, with a caning. I hadn't even been given time to change from my outdoor clothes. Down with pants, for a good caning with me once again spread over the whipping horse. No gag or restraints. I am well enough trained to do as instructed. Stretch out grunt a bit, even the odd spot of begging or even an occasional tear but otherwise take my punishment like a good slave.

During my corrective treatment I was to recite Rule 4, one of the 16 rules Mistress expects her slaves to live by during their training. That was bloody hard because the cane hurts like hell and I had to remember Rule 4 in between yowling as each stroke found its mark. Rule 4 is a really good one to learn as it does cover a multitude of bad memory lapses during a punishment: The slave cannot possibly know all the rules. - I suggest you learn that one well!


After the whirlwind had subsided and Maggie appeared a lot happier having got rid of some of her tension on her slaves backside, it was back to the schedule as if nothing had happened. In fact, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. A smart arse slave got his just deserts and punishment from his Mistress. A natural occurrence in the slave world. First to go on were the ox balls and leather separating strap. You can see where they got the name from as my balls look huge in the photo.

On with my rubber gloves and socks, butt plug inserted, helped into the thick black rubber catsuit and I was prepared and very ready for the next part of my training. Maggie did double check that I was OK before advising me that I would be incarcerated in the vac bed for a considerable length of time. A kind of vacuum packing not yet available in the supermarkets. Imagine at checkout, one cucumber, a packet of condoms, a tube of K-Y and, oh yes one vacuum packed slave please! I bet JS's shares would rocket if that ever occurs.

It is reassuring that Maggie always checks safety issues although I felt it unnecessary as I had a delightful experience the first time. Still it doesn't hurt to be cautious and Maggie is always right.

However, having the estim set to Program 4 level 10 around my delicate little bits might hurt quite a bit, particularly if I was inside for ninety minutes to gauge the long-term effects of vac-packing slaves. Does the product remain fresh? What are the results of miscellaneous external stimuli on the goods?  Does the effect of closing the airway for short periods effect the meat and two veg? All vital marketing questions that Maggie needed to investigate.

Finally a snug latex hood and I was settled inside the bed between the two clinging rubber layers with a rubber tube for an airway. The estim went on its insidious, unstoppable journey of teasing and tormenting and Maggie frequently added to that sense of building tension as she stroked my bits and pieces and applied the Playroom vibrator at strategic times to, by then, very sensitive areas. It was all merging into a very tense and exciting 90 minutes as I lay there, vacuum packed and once again in the total control of an exceptional Mistress.

Imagine the absolute high generated when Maggie de-vacuumed the bed, climbed inside and gave me a once over to make sure her property was still as fresh as when packaged and then gave me the most gentle of cuddles. Of course, she removed her red shoes that at the start of the session had received the correct level of slave homage.  I nearly lost control at that stage - but didn't; I have been too well trained for that to be allowed to happen. I think Maggie was satisfied that the vacuum packing is an effective method of slave preservation and control.

The session was far from over and the next bit was certainly going to be more taxing than the vac-bed but hopefully less painful than the cane. My balls were attended to first, squeezed inside a rubber ballsack, I was fitted with a gas mask and wrist and ankle shackles attached and close coupled. A nice touch was the rather fetching leather corset that makes this slave look a little thinner. The intention is, of course another item of bondage but it is really nice to wear for extended periods. The killer was the weight of chain Mistress applied. Most amusing to Maggie as I clinked and clanked down the stairs on my backside and most strenuous to me having ankles and wrists restricted, wearing the gas mask, and not to forget the ox balls that were still in their deadly embrace of my bollocks and came into abrupt contact with each and every step.

As instructed, I made Maggie a cheese and tomato sandwich and coffee and then acted as a footstool whilst Maggie relaxed and ate my offering. No mayonnaise! I had forgot to spread it on the sandwich. Oh merde! (one of my few bits of German).

I didn't think I could take another caning or even the threatened flogging for incompetence as I wearily made my way back to the Playroom to retrieve Maggie's flogger. Fortunately neither did Maggie.

When the gas mask came off she recognised that I was near the end of my tether and accepted that I had tried my hardest in very testing and demanding circumstances. Mistress Maggie is always fair on her slaves and recognises that if a slave genuinely and honestly has stretched his limits, he should not receive extra punishment, well not during the current session anyway. 

It was my own fault. In my strong desire to serve Mistress I hadn't realised how close to that edge I was and I certainly had not alerted Maggie that I was in difficulty. However physical limits are always there to be stretched and next time, Maggie will expect and receive more from her slave.

A Little Quiet Contemplation

Like a naughty school boy, I was stood in the corner facing the cell wall whilst Mistress Maggie went about her Mistress work, polishing her own latex attire.

I am not sure Ofsted would approve. Me in full latex suit, rubber hood and secured against the cell door with stout straps. Rubber gag and blindfold made sure I wasn't going to complain. In any event, what did I have to complain about? I had just received an all over polish and been parked and secured against the cell door. It gave me time to think about my Mistress and what I had done right and more importantly anything that I had done wrong.

When released I could see that Mistress had been busy with a shining spray as her latex costume now had a mirror shine. I was to worship Mistress. All over her tight latex ski-pants, up and down her long boots, working my tongue around her corset buckles, in fact anywhere an eager slave was allowed to worship.

At the end, an electrode was secured and sealed on my balls inside the catsuit with a whisper from Mistress that "your cock will soon be getting very hot!"

Mistress and I had talked a few sessions back about an inflatable latex hood I had seen online, the bit that really excited me were the integral perspex eye holes that would make it airtight. What a surprise when Maggie announced that the exact same hood had arrived through her letter box very recently and I was going to wear it.

Or was I? "Shall I, shan't I let slave wear it?"  Mistress teased a little. "Would a little plastic bag treatment over the head be more appropriate? Gasp for breath then beg to wear the new hood, slave?"

I felt the softness as the gunmetal latex was gently rubbed against my cheeks and all the while, I was securely roped at shoulders elbows wrists and knees.

I thought the red ropes on black latex a nice touch as it was Valentines day after all. As it was the first hood wearing, Maggie decided, wisely as always, not to pump the hood to its maximum. That could wait for another day.

Meticulously planned as always. Mistress moved me from sitting to lying in the body-bag and the ropes required no adjustment. I was secure and I now understood why "your cock will soon be getting very hot!" Not quite a microwave, definitely not an oven but the body bag, combined with the electrics bubbling away on cock and balls certainly began to warm things up inside the bag. I was at the mercy of Mistress and her fiendish remote control. Just to be sure I was 'enjoying' my little bagged rest, Maggie 'allowed' me to wear a couple of nipple clamps; red of course to compliment the ropes and the colour of my bloody nipples after those vicious little blighters had done their work.

Ofsted rating of the Mistress Maggie Training Establishment? An outstanding provider of course.

A Right Good Plastic Planking

My next training plan arrived . . .  to take pictures of the plank in use. With this in mind you should behave like a model, make sure you are well groomed and ready for film, it should not take much talent to lie on a plank and have your Mistress make you secure.

Mistress Maggie and her husband John had created yet another masterpiece for Maggie to use on her slaves. A simple plank with detachable legs, solid construction and certainly sufficient for my bulk, beautifully finished and incredibly sturdy in operation. At a less superficial level, the simplicity allows so much versatility when used in The Playroom. Today it was to be used to make Mistresses slave totally immobile and I loved the concept.


In common with virtually all my training, lessons commenced with paying homage to Mistress. On this occasion it was cleaning and worshipping her boots. Black shiny patents just below the knee and laced up the front. It is always a wonderful start as I gently cradle her legs and work my tongue up and down, staying strictly on the footwear. Today I had a black latex hood, but in other lessons Mistress strokes my hair as I proceed with my duties. In either case it is a highly charged, intimate re-acquaintance between Mistress and slave.


Before moving to the business of the session, Maggie had some unfinished business to perform. Punishment brought on by my untidiness in the previous session, when I had inadvertently opened my mouth and left dribbles on the Playroom upholstery. Straight over her knee and a warm arse spanking to remind me that such tawdriness would not be tolerated.


Worship and outstanding business completed, we moved to the landing for me to help Mistress retrieve the plank. After all what use is it having a devoted slave if they don't perform some of the humping and moving of the heavier equipment. The tree was retrieved along with the four legs, Mistress got the legs, I got the heavy bit and one of those delightfully twinkly smiles from Maggie when she knows exactly what predicament her slave will be in. A quick screw of each leg and Maggie was keen to demonstrate how sturdy it was by sitting in the middle. No give or bend at all.

Apart from the almost obligatory socks and gloves, no more latex today. The latex hood was removed and replaced with the plastic inflatable one and I was inserted into the loose fitting, very comfortable plastic body suit. The reason? Shrink wrap and plastic stick so well together as I was rapidly going to find out.

Although The Plank was new, I can testify that Mistress is no novice when it comes to wrapping her belongings. Worthy of mention as it again illustrates Maggie's attention to detail, small cushions were placed at the nape of the neck and one beneath the ankles. These were essential to a slaves well being. After all, what good is a permanently damaged slave to his Mistress?

My hood became tight as Mistress breathed her air into the inflation valve, isolating the inner mask from the outer world.

Ah the hair dryer! Just when I thought things couldn't get tighter, out came the heavy duty hair dryer. Maggie played it all over my body and that really did tighten things up. It was a little strange that Maggie spent quite a bit of time playing the heat on my lower midriff area and what you can see, just, is the ball weight that Maggie instructed me to arrive wearing and a rather rampant but highly compressed cock.

I must say that the criss-crossing leather straps were a little like overkill and I mentioned this to Mistress after the session. Maggie simply said it was a statement and an aesthetically pleasing addition to her work of art. Maggie had fun wrapping the continuous leather strap round her plastic toy.

Then the sweetest of actions that Mistress occasionally bestows on her slave. She blew me a kiss gently down the air hole accompanied by a good lungful of Mistress air for me to breathe. As a positive bonus to my hard work during the session, this photo shows the absolutely stunning profile of my Mistress.

Then time to treat me to a vision of her in her opaque plastic mac that I had previously so admired. As the picture shows, the sheen of her mac really complements the glistening of the plastic covered blob on The Plank. To quote Mistress Maggie, 'the translucent metallic lining gives the raincoat a super sharp glassy look and an element of mystery'. I could not begin to describe the effect as well as Mistress did. It did of course mean that my appendage just strained more and more inside the wrapping.

Not for the first time, I struggled for breath as Mistress slithered over my tightly restricted chest in her stunning mac; not enough to induce panic but sufficient to know that Maggie was in TOTAL charge of her property. The plastic of her mac and the plastic of my body making those squeaky plasticky sounds that can only be achieved by plastic on tight plastic.

Back to the script, off came the inflatable mask and Mistress continued with the final lessons of the session. I was to be reminded that at all times I am her property and plaything and that whatever Mistress wished to do to her slave would happen. I was, after all hardly in a position to argue. Maggie positioned herself over my face and let out a stream of sweet wine into the mouth of her slave.

It was a long session and I need to thank Mistresses husband, John, for the patience and expertise he showed taking the pictures as well as creating The Plank. We had agreed before the start that this would be a good platform for the new skill of Planking and I readily agreed to Johns presence throughout to take some excellent shots.

Did I behave like a model? If a model is a rigidly fixed plastic slave on a plank then Yes. 

Did I require any talent for this photo shoot? No, only unswerving loyalty and obedience to my Mistress.

Did The Plank stand up to the weight of a 'chunky' slave? Yes it is definitely fit for purpose.


Note for you Plankers out there. After a lengthy Planking your knees lock. It takes a little while for them to relax and start to function again. Mistress was aware of this temporary effect and allowed plenty of recovery time once released. 


I am really fortunate that I have an excellent Mistress who knows these things.

Half Cooked Slave

I had blotted my copy book again, with some misplaced comment about that damn dog. How was I to know that Mistress Maggie was keen on that red coated Mountie and particularly his deaf dog Deifenbaker. I should have known a slave comes well below a husky Mountie, in fact below a husky in the scheme of things. Anyway, I was instructed to arrive at the session with ” . . . 50 handwritten lines as follows - 'I must not compare myself to Diefenbaker, a superior dog' . . .” It was going to be a ruff session. It has been a long time since I had to do handwritten lines!

Maggie was to use today to help introduce me to more tactile experiences, and to help her slave broaden my limited 'likes' and identify the different materials that Maggie likes to employ in her slave training sessions; I like what I am told to like by Maggie. My being in the dog-house was not helped by the fact I had mis-identified her footwear as PVC boots when of course, they were leather. A basic mistake and one Mistress would work on to ensure instant recognition of many more of her fetish materials. The first new material was the red silicone butt plug that Maggie had provided for my personal use. Exactly the right size to slip tightly in with a lot of lube. Red silicone filling my bum hole was a good start to my new tactile experiences!

Next was identification of plastic, hemp and leather. Hemp rope to attach me to the bondage chair, leather collar and plastic to help clear sinuses and allow me to lick and appreciate the feel of plastic, from inside the bag of course. As the plastic grasped against my face and I gasped about the failing oxygen, Maggie smiled, as only Maggie can, looked straight into my soul and suggested that I might like to admit that I love the plastic sensations I was receiving. I was enjoying being totally under Maggie's control; I was enjoying the suffocating experience and I was starting to run out of air! "I love plastic, Mistress" I was just able to gasp to secure my release. "There will be no rubber for you until you are better educated”.

That damn dog again. After my plastic identification experience, Mistress wanted to find out if I was a good dog as well and tied my balls to my ankles before kicking me with her leather boots, walking me round on a leather lead and cracking my arse with a leather paddle held nonchalantly in her leather gloved hands. I then had to lick the boots until Mistress was satisfied that I could accurately identify her boots as leather and not plastic. I think it worked because I was starting to enjoy the taste, smell, touch sound and look of the real leather shiny black thigh boots. It looks good, it tastes good and by golly, it does you good.

At last, Maggie relented about the 'no rubber' and fitted me into a black rubber hood and topped it all by slowly parting her natural latex coloured skirt and sinking very gracefully across my mouth. More rubber! I must have passed the identification tests; leather, plastic, rope, cire coat and of course rubber, otherwise Maggie would not then have helped me into my red rubber catsuit. 

I was initially disappointed that the new red silicone butt plug had to be removed, but smiled as a vibrating plug took its place. Not that the smile was visible through the s10 gas mask and blindfold that Maggie fitted her slave into. 

Maggie knew of course that I was smiling as she eased me into the clear plastic body bag ready for her slave to be sealed into my airtight resting place. Mistress knows exactly how to bring a smile to her slaves.

The tens unit had been quietly attached to my balls as Maggie was helping me into the suit. I did notice of course but it was of less importance than Mistress gently easing her slave into tight rubber. A squeeze, a tug, a shuffle and a stroke totally overwhelmed the sensation of the attachment of a couple of electrodes and their wires. And finally, a breathing tube and filter made me airtight and snug ready for incarceration in the thick plastic body bag.

A little passive fun for Mistress as I was laid gently on the carpet and the body bag sealed leaving enough space for the gas mask tube and wires.

I was starting to warm inside the bag and suit but was comfortable apart from the odd times when Maggie stuck something over the air filter or started cooking me with the tens machine. At least one of us was pleased that the machine ended up on maximum.

After suitable cooking time, the next thing I was permitted to see was Mistress in a brown mask of some sort. By this time I was a little disorientated and thought the situation a little weird. I wasn't far enough gone not to enjoy the nipple tweaking face sitting and other goodies that Mistress allowed her slave to enjoy.

You can just glimpse the cushion that Mistress provided for her slaves comfort. I am truly a very fortunate slave to be owned by such a caring and considerate Mistress.


That dog is not so bad after all judging be the ending that he led me to. Perhaps you might say I'm the contents of a doggy bag . . . then again, perhaps not.

Heavy Rubber Suspension

Mistress Maggie had sent me a pre-session note saying she’d been busy looking at my homework and I should look forward to receiving my results today adding that it might be a good idea for me to bring her an apple. An apple for the teacher eh! That took me back a long way.

When I was greeted at the door, I received instruction that, for the start of the session at least, Mistress was to be known as Miss Striker. Anyway, Miss Striker looked strict in her leather skirt, wide belt and boots, along with a black satin blouse and tie to show me who's boss.

I presented Miss Striker with a rosy red apple and she applied a plastic bag to my head, a strange exchange I thought but I was becoming used to expecting the totally unexpected. The bag was sealed in place with a collar and lead and I was ordered to my knees. Miss Striker is a natural at multitasking, taking charge of my breath control, walking me to heel and verbally reprimanding me simultaneously, it was at that point that Miss Striker dropped the bombshell. I had made the same spelling mistake as I had on another occasion and, of course, after an initial warm up the same punishment would have to be repeated. My mistake? I managed to spell apologise with two p's.  

Unfortunately Miss Striker was not only wearing a leather belt but wielding one very effectively. I was too busy apologising and trying not to cry to count the number of strokes, but certainly as many as there are letters in apologise, plus a few more for good measure and, enough to teach me that a slaves apology cannot be taken seriously until he’s learned to spell the word. Perhaps a red apple wasn't the right choice as Miss Striker kept using it as a colour chart against the red of my backside. Do they do pale, delicate, bottom coloured apples?

How absolutely stupid can a slave get and I felt sorry for Mistress Maggie as she had kindly given me the name JoNep to help eliminate my clumsy spelling. I was really embarrassed that I had let her down. I now know there is one p in apologise and will not repeat that mistake.

I was chastened and very compliant after my strapping and willingly accepted the butt plug and ear plugs under a tight rubber helmet, before climbing inside the heavy bondage sack that  Mistress retrieved from a hanger. Each arm ending in mitts that can be wrapped and strapped around the body to be secured behind. Once strapped inside there is no escape and you quickly appreciate how much warmth can be built up inside the heavy rubber.

I was able to shuffle into the middle of the room and with Maggie's help made it safely into a prone position on top of the heavy leather suspension harness, directly under the overhead gantry.

Maggie had planned that I would receive the full isolation treatment; gag, blindfold, ear plugs, butt plug etc but always checks the welfare of her slaves before such a heavy session. I mentioned I had a bit of a snuffle and thought I might struggle with a full gag. I am always honest with Maggie and she accepted my man flu was genuine and agreed to forgo the gag but I was to receive the rest of my dressing list.


Extra strapping was attached round legs and arms and I was totally at the mercy of my Mistress. Exactly where any slave would wish to be. What was really surprising was how easily Maggie appeared to use the equipment to lift a rather heavy slave. The padlock joining wrist straps to the body harness was a little extra embelishment that, although not strictly necessary in the global scheme of this slaves incarceration, was another nice touch that reinforced my position as Maggie's slave.


I found it a little unnerving when I actually left the ground and had the free floating feeling. Will the straps hold?  Will my weight break the equipment? Can someone as slim as Mistress Maggie manage a well rounded slave like me? As it turned out, I had absolutely no cause for concern. Maggie had everything under total control and as I settled into swinging free, I had a most effective blindfold applied and was left gently swaying, in the dark and hearing only muffled sounds of the Playroom.


The situation was absolute bliss. Every now and then Mistress would stroke her slave or I would make a slight movement that would set up a gentle swaying. I have never experienced anything quite so relaxing or so sensuous. I was floating in a sea of blackness, knowing that I was the plaything of a beautiful Mistress. I drifted in an out of fantasies about remaining in this position for days, or even forever; being a Mistress Maggie plaything, dreaming of . . . well just Maggie and nothing else. I had no worries no concerns just a relaxed state of total servitude, sleep was very close.

It was no coincidence that Maggie had raised the slave sling to just below her midriff, and somehow during my isolation had managed to dress in a smaller latex ensemble, or at least thats what is smelled and felt like. I was there to do anything Mistress wanted after all and my suspended head created the perfect seat on which to rest a perfect latex clad bottom. This was definitely an experience to recommend and hopefully next time I will be 100% fit and not have to disappoint Maggie. I did get the impression that Mistress was satisfied with the cocoon her slave was safely enshrined within.

Shrink-wrapped slave

I had been told to expect rubber and plastic in equal amounts in my pre-session email. Mistress in her heavy rubber looked like the rubber Queen whereas I looked more like a bug, rigid in a plastic cocoon, waiting to be devoured.

Mistress Maggie was dressed in a spectacular black latex gown, shiny thigh high, laced black boots, an open faced latex hood topped off with a plume of plaited hair, I was dressed head to toe in very tight shrink wrap plastic. Mistress is a very clever wrapper; after all, why did she perform a full wrap with me standing and then cut away the knees?. Answer: it is impossible to sit down on the bondage chair from a standing position without the cut-aways. The knees, and rest of me, were soon covered in more plastic as I was wrapped again, this time firmly attaching me to the chair. A quick blast with the hairdryer, then Mistress was off regulating my air intake.

It was a strange sensation having the re-breather bag so close to my ear. I could hear myself breathing (most of the time), providing reassurance to both myself and Maggie that I was still alive!  Breathing was occasionally interrupted with a sharp intake of breath and a dead silence as I acclimatised to the million volts coursing through cock and balls. They were the only part of me exposed to the elements. Just enough to apply an electrode and allow Maggie to have a little extra fun with an electric box. I later discovered that she had used a BBQ fork to complete the circuit!

Note the clever application of tape around the mouth to provide a small, clear opening so the face mask could be worn for a long time without the plastic closing and spoiling the effect. As I said, Maggie is really good at this.