Showing posts with label nipple torture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nipple torture. 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, 24 October 2025

SINS for a Slave

It is no sin to worship a beautiful dominant woman, nor is it a sin to do anything Mistress Maggie wishes, willingly and immediately without question. These are consensual acts of a dominant/subservient slave relationship. Therefore, you may be wondering what SINS I could possibly be revealing and be curious enough to carry on reading my ramblings.


The scene for today’s encounter with my Mistress was teasingly set yesterday evening with the call to worship -

‘Your nurse is sharpening her needles’, said the message.


From this, it was obvious that I was to be stitched up again; not a sin because I have had quite a few needles willingly inserted into various parts of my anatomy, and they were all carried out with my full consent. It is difficult to describe why I want Mistress to do whatever she wishes to her slave, but it boils down to the fact that I feel happiest when I can say that Maggie has finished our sessions in a happier frame of mind then at the start.


I suppose some may consider it a sin that I derive so much pleasure from worshipping the very ground that my owner walks on or even the very glossy PVC boots that I worshipped so diligently at the start of this session, but it isn’t. Today, the shiny white boots received a lot of licking and kissing attention as I attended to all the areas that Mistress instructed, the tip of her crop guiding my tongue to exactly where she wished me to clean. I experienced the thrill of Mistress’s crop being applied ever so gently across my back as I continued to work, anticipating and steeling myself in readiness for any harder strokes from the crop, but they never materialised. The occasional, very gentle touch only aroused me even more, and once again I was being elevated into the space often described as ‘the zone’.


Kneeling in front of my Mistress I had my latex working hood pulled over my face and now felt completely at ease, strangely it enhances my deep feelings and submissive relationship towards my owner. It begins to turn me into Maggie's rubber toy; no identity, nothing apart from ‘slave’. I also appreciated the fact that Maggie lubed up my backside and gently but firmly slipped in my own red plug. What nearly caught me by surprise was Mistress's request for me to recite my slave promise to her. I had not recited it recently, I stumbled a little and was a little hesitant, particularly with the part about others to join her in servitude, as Mistress is now semi retired and I know she no longer entertains new slave applications.


For reference, my slave vow to my Mistress is:

I promise that I will do my best:

To love my Mistress,

To serve my Mistress,

To help others to join my Mistress in slavery,

To keep the Mistresses Law.

and

To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question.

I always try to be faithful to this promise.


It certainly wasn't a sin to accept a real privilege that’s only occasionally granted by Mistress. I was offered the opportunity to caress and worship her latex covered derriere which immediately had a massive effect on my cock. Although it did restrict access to both buttocks somewhat, I shrewdly decided that an approach from the side would be the safest approach to offer my services, approaching her from the rear with a raging hard-on may well have appeared disrespectful. That may well have counted as a sin! Perhaps next time, and hopefully there will be a next time, I will have the confidence to kneel behind Maggie and perform as her slave and not a horny hot blooded subject! Thank you Maggie for that rare luxury.


By now, my butt plug had warmed up my arsehole and was ready to be replaced with something a bit bigger; an electro plug. Maggie used a stout latex harness to keep it in place. True to her meticulous nature, the straps were tightened to a very snug fit and adjusted so that they were mirrored on both sides. Despite the fact that the rubber harness would eventually be covered by two layers of latex, the symmetry epitomises Maggie’s insistence on perfection wherever possible.


I was to be dressed in two thick rubber layers, the first layer being my own Invincible catsuit, and I hope that I was able to pleasantly surprise Mistress by being able to climb into the garment unaided. The reflection I saw in the Playroom mirror was that of a big black rubber plaything, a completely anonymous one that was ready to please. I quickly received the second rubber layer that had been patiently hanging from the overhead, and this time I did need assistance in sliding into the single legged body bag. 


There was just sufficient movement between my feet to allow me to waddle, penguin style, through to the Clinic. As always, Mistress who is always amused to see me waddling, was close by to ensure I didn’t fall. Fortunately I have performed this activity before and was quite stable. I was instructed to be careful not to stand on the trailing electric cable as Maggie would be furious if I were to pull my butt plug out.


Once in the clinic I waddled to the centre of the latex covered couch and gently eased myself into exactly the right position. I have had good training in achieving this. Once comfortable, I was delighted that Mistress had chosen the panoramic gas mask for me to wear which, as its name implies gives excellent vision of Mistress and all of her Clinic. It also accommodates easy fixing of the aromas pump hose which proved to be a vital accessory as the session progressed.


Mistress entertained herself by putting some power into my butt plug, she was somewhat surprised that I wasn’t screaming my arse off when she ramped up the electrics to their max of 99 on the dial. To me my ass stimming was not excessive, but nicely noticeable, but Maggie thought it best to lower the dial, just in case at some stage it would please her to surprise me with the full belt of level 99 again!


Before we had hopped into the Clinic, Mistress had taken the precaution to line up the nipple zips in both suits so she had easy access to my nipples when their time for torment arrived. I was securely strapped to the couch, Mistress pulled on each strap with considerable strength, ensuring they were as tight as possible. My exposed nipples had a pair of simple white nipple clips applied to them, I knew they were there but not producing a cruel torment, just a dull ache and I guessed there may be something worse to follow! And now the part of the training that I was made aware of. The suturing of my cock and balls into one of Maggie's mangina creations. ‘I won’t be creating anything too elaborate today’, she said, ‘but I want my suturing to be the tidiest I have ever done’.


A scene was set, the couch was raised to an ideal working height, a white aseptic field arranged around my operation zone, my genitals sponged with disinfectant and I was treated to a full narrative of events as my nurse became busy with her needles. Maggie counted ‘one, two, three’, before starting a new suture which went on to be pulled tight and knotted four times. ‘I'll make sure these won’t be coming out in a hurry’, she said.


It was at this point that I was pleased the aromas pump hose was being put to excellent use, because the nine stitches I received were accompanied by the same number of good puffs of the pump. The affect of these particular aromas was my ability to relax into the needle pricks. A slight wince occasionally, but I think Mistress was pleased with how she was able to sew up the area with no interruptions from a struggling slave. Again, the care that is taken with a patient in this environment was evident, because Maggie wore a facemask to minimise giving her slave her cold, in fact she had worn it for most of our session.


It turned out that Maggie had been thinking about the next phase for a couple of years, and today was the day I was yet again given the privilege of being her Guinea Pig for another of her fiendish ideas. To facilitate this devious plan my headgear needed to be changed, off came the panoramic gas mask, the inflatable hood with its built in anaesthesia mask took its place and was duly inflated. Headphones supplied me with music, I was a blind Guinea Pig too, as this hood doesn’t have eye holes. The ONLY way air could get in and out was through the front anaesthesia port, and this was soon attached to the two green rebreather bags that I had seen quietly waiting nearby.


I hope by now that my training allows me to breathe slowly and steadily, in this situation it didn’t take long before I got into the rhythm and was ready for a prolonged rebreathe session. In… Out… In … Out. I could sense when I was taking in fresh air because I needed to apply far more suction, and so far Mistress was happy that everything was working swimmingly.


Maggie took tremendous joy in swapping the relatively harmless nipple clips for a pair with a nasty bite, I sensed that she was doing some adjustment to the breathing bags, perhaps restricting the flow further by partially closing the taps, when in fact she was attaching the breathing bags to my nipple clamps with short pieces of string. From there on, each time I breathed out something happened to my nipples! Mistress did allow me a couple of breaks from the rebreathing by unplugging the bags, but I really had no idea what was happening as I still couldn’t see a thing.


The picture shows exactly what Mistress had achieved and why the heading to the blog:


SINS - Self Inflicted Nipple Stretching.


Every time I breathed out, the rebreather bags inflated and stood straight out from the mask, pulling my poor nipples upwards via the two strings. Breathe in and the bags deflated releasing the tension on the nipple clamps. Although a bit Heath Robinson’ish Mistress was very proud of the results, she mentioned afterwards that I could be the subject of future SINS once her devious experiment has been refined. Oh how I look forward to that pleasure!


Satisfied with the SINS, Maggie moved on to a little more electric stimulation. The sensation in my butt plug began gradually rebuilding again and I could feel electric pads being stuck on my balls, where my cock used to be. Pulsing and stimulation was the order of play for the next two or three musical tracks. Maggie then cleared the area so she could apply a copious amount of cool gel to my mangina and using her Doppler machine she listened carefully to my sutured area. There were a series of audible beeps coming from the wand . . .  ‘ That’s the sound of your encased cock straining to get out’, she mused. She wasn’t wrong, I was feeling very frustrated by this stage.


And then all hell broke loose in my nipples. I let out a scream and begged Maggie to stop, Stop, STOP!  I thought Maggie had applied an even worse fiendish method of ‘stimulating’ my nips. The irony was that she hadn’t added anything, it was the removal of the clamps that caused the excruciating pain. After Mistress explained this I was able to breathe through the diminishing pain and the session began reaching a natural conclusion.


My hood was finally removed and Mistress was dealing with my sutures. I asked if next time she removes stitches, perhaps she would be kind enough to allow me a few more puffs of the aromas. I know I’d been warned that they wouldn’t be coming out in a hurry, but the discomfort associated with the stitch removal was far worse than their insertion.


I believe Mistress Maggie ended the session in a good frame of mind and happier than at the start. If that is the case my job has been successful. I certainly left with a smile on my face as Maggie suggested I need to check that all stitches were actually out. Only a tease, of course they were and I returned home a very happy bunny that I had experienced SINS!.


NB: This 00:51 clip has audio.