North West Crop Failure

Mistress Maggie had sent me a note making it absolutely clear what joys would greet her slave during this session. ‘Your bewitching Mistress will have you bound within a bag of gold and feeling the touches of her brand new crop’.

I knew Mistress had been working on a major latex production and that it was a gold coloured rubber bondage sack, but we hadn't yet been introduced. I was really looking forward to being allowed to wear her latest creation and today would be my lucky day. The brand new crop? Obvious. I always love being guinea pig for any of Mistresses new toys, even a simple crop. If wielding a new implement on her slaves flesh gives Maggie pleasure, then I am certain I could derive pleasure from receiving her gift. I got that part quite wrong!

I don't know what went wrong with my timing, I was probably too keen to see my Mistress, but the five minute walk from the car park was managed in just a shade over three and I arrived at the chambers early. Maggie greeted me in her long red PVC boots, a black and red latex leotard, a smack across my face and a stern telling off. ‘You're two minutes early slave. I was in the middle of a cup of coffee and have barely had time to read my e-mails’.

I hoped that would be the end of the repercussions for my my poor time keeping but I really should have known better. Despite my ears still ringing from their recent boxing I could just manage to focus on the superbly formed derrière undulating just in front of my eager eyes as I followed my Mistress upstairs to the Playroom. The territory in front of my eyes is forbidden but I can still dream.

Today I returned a pair of Maggie’s used pants, a very sexy lacy pair that she had loaned to me to give me comfort at home. I felt quite proud of how I had managed to launder them; non-biological washing liquid to avoid a reaction round Mistresses delicate bits and a gentle softener to give them that fragrant scent, though nothing quite as fragrant as the ‘eau de Maggie’ that had drifted in my direction each time I held them. Pride comes before a fall and once more I had been unable to iron the little pink bow at their front, it’s not something I have practised in the past but I have a feeling, 24 feelings to be precise, that I MUST learn to iron it if Maggie is to continue allowing me the panty privilege.

After an all too short spell of boot worship, Maggie adhered to her session guidance and picked up her crop. The die was cast. 12 strokes for being early and 24 strokes for my laundry failure. Stripped down to my latex shorts I was ordered over the spanking stool and this time I wished Maggie had strapped me down. Even through my latex shorts the cropping started to hurt like hell. Concurrent sentences might have been more manageable for me, but no, I received consecutive punishments; 36 strokes in total and all predominantly to my right cheek. I was dancing around on the bench and begging for clemency by the time the final blow landed.

Things got a little less painful for a while. I was to be Maggie's pet pooch and this role I gladly sank my whole heart and soul into. Dressed in my thick latex suit complete with my doggy harness, butt plug and tail to wag, Maggie transformed me into her pet hound. This really was fun and, as I said, I got fully into the mindset of a big, black, boisterous retriever. For those of you who are fortunate to receive similar treatment, the leather muzzle is very comfortable to wear but it does somewhat restrict the air supply, so if you are bounding around like a puppy then expect a little breathlessness.

As an added part of the transformation, Maggie had the foresight to tape and splint two fingers on each hand together to make digging in her flower garden that little bit more taxing. I reiterate, Maggie plans the sessions meticulously. I scampered around the room fetching the ring that my owner tossed in various directions. I played with it. I hid it temporarily from my owner and even tossed it in the air as I padded round on all fours, then to reinforce my pet training I was taken for a walk on a lead. It was then that I momentarily returned to normality as I passed the crop that I’d been beaten with lying on the landing floor. Maggie had enjoyed herself so much cropping her slaves backside that the crop had broken. Poetic justice I thought before being brought to heel on the leash and returning once more to the obedient pet dog.

When we finished our walk I was rewarded for being a good dog by being sent to the garden area to find and dig up my bone. Not easy with the taped up paws but I set about digging up the soil like a good dog, and in my joy at being Maggie's pet pooch and finding my orange bone I completely missed what the plants were that I was disturbing in my haste. Oh the joys of being a happy pet.

I could easily have laid down at my Mistresses feet for the remainder of the afternoon, but Maggie had other plans and true to her promise she brought out the gold latex body bag. It’s amazing how quickly a slave can be transformed from a boisterous black retriever into the King of Maggieland, but I did look rather like royalty after she had finished with me. Firstly I was fitted into the anatomically correct and most comfortable of masks. My head became an accurate latex head complete with sticky out ears. I got the impression that Mistress also likes the mask as she spent a while making sure it was smooth and all the right bits inserted into the correct mouldings before I was gently inserted into the most luxurious gold latex body bag. Maggie went on to reinforce who the boss was by securely chaining me inside the bag, out of harms way. So I did end up laid down at her feet after all.
Not just one or two but almost the whole of Maggie's chain store was deployed in her bondage. Chains round middle, legs arms, feet, in fact anywhere Maggie wanted to see a chain, and a series of padlocks held me inescapably secure. At least Houdini might have escaped their caress but I certainly couldn't. I actually feel really secure in this totally helpless state. I know I am totally dependant on my Mistress and that is exactly how I like it. I probably shouldn't say this but I was really comfortable inside this most luxurious of sacks and was quite relaxed when Mistress left me in this position for a while. I had time to admire the excellent workmanship that Maggie had put into this bodybag and thought of all the other very fortunate slaves who would benefit from its pleasant embrace.

I also had time to better admire some of the new decorations that adorned the refurbished Playroom; the stunning ceiling rose that has also received the gold treatment, the new window drapes, and ...  My thoughts were interrupted when Mistress returned and removed my rather nice hood, a pillow with a plastic covering was slid behind my head and standing above me with legs apart she aimed a stream of fine wine into my open mouth. I didn't do too well with my pee catching making Maggie warn me that unless I improve my performance she would water her plants with her golden fluid instead. I was made to watch as a plant was placed alongside me and Maggie commenced watering it with my drink. I had not realised earlier but I recognised the species now; urtica dioica. The crop being watered by Mistress was a nice, young and very potent nettle plant and I never spotted that coming as I dug up my bone!. What a waste of a good brew just to water a damn nettle plant.

The ‘touches of a brand new crop’ as mentioned in Maggie’s calling mail was about to make more sense. Ah nettling time. I had totally forgotten about the annual nettle ceremonies over the past few years and yet another decidedly devious plan had been developed by Mistress to help me enjoy the pleasures of those nasty little blighters.

Now dressed in my more typical slave attire of my black rubber catsuit, a chain was passed around my waist and attached to the overhead gantry. As the gantry was raised so my back was arched off the floor I was free to wobble in my semi-suspended state. Worse was to come. The intention was to attach nipple clamps and then sprigs of nettles to the other end of the securing rope, just at the height that the young plants would caress my nipples.

Oh I do wish my nipples were more compliant. They were powerful clamps but still kept slipping off as I swung there. Several times Maggie reattached the clamps, each time a bit tighter intensifying the pain in my nipples. In the end Maggie devised a simpler solution, lashing the nettle sprigs from a dangling cord and letting them sway back and forth, stinging my pained buds as I writhed on the supporting chain. An unforgiving predicament indeed!

However strange it may sound, the pain of the recently departed nipple clamps, the stinging of the recently watered nettles and the sprig that Maggie removed from the plant to start caressing my cock and balls with had an alarming effect. It was not long before Mistress used her Hitachi wand, making me writhe even more and forcing me to ejaculate. I had no control and this time there was no embarrassment. Maggie wanted this outcome and what Maggie wants Maggie gets; always.

I had both very painful and very pleasurable outcomes from the two types of crops I received from Mistress Maggie today, and the amusement when the new crop lost its head helped ameliorate a bit of the pain it had inflicted. I loved almost every minute and even my right buttock appeared to be smiling when I last looked in the mirror!

Re-defining Excruciating!

It can never be said that Mistress Maggie only offers a limited curriculum to the students training in her Chambers. Sessions are definitely not only about gratuitous violence, in fact there can be real educational content to some of the training.

Just as Shakespeare invented and redefined many words in the English language, so Maggie assists her students in a deeper and fuller understanding of those fine words that the bard writ.

Today I was instructed to bring my red latex kit bag, which contains all of the red latex items that I have purchased over the years and Maggie then chooses which items I should wear whilst I am in her presence. At the Chambers front door Maggie greeted me in her tight and shiny black latex catsuit, the door was barely closed before a leash was hooked onto my slave collar and I was led upstairs with my kitbag in tow.

I had expected to be cat-suited for whatever lesson Mistress had planned for today, however, on this occasion Mistress specifically asked about my red shorts. At that point I should have known something unusual was planned, as her eyes lit up at the mention that I was already wearing them and I was instructed to strip down to them there and then. Mistress continued, her smile getting bigger and more attractive as she examined her rather portly student. I was then sent off to the bathroom still wearing the shorts, with orders to don stockings and gloves and there would be no red catsuit required today.

In the last session I recorded that Mistresses stiletto heels were 'excruciating' when sunk into my nipples, and Maggie wanted to help me get a fuller and more accurate understanding of the meaning of the word, allowing me to better express more of my feelings. Leather wrist straps were buckled on so I could be hung from the overhead gantry and my legs eased apart on a robust spreader bar and, strangely, I had a broom handle tightly roped across my mouth, producing a most effective gag and as was about to be revealed, something good and hard to bite down on when needed.

Mistress smiled that deliciously sweet smile, often a precursor that something bad was about to happen. She retrieved her red leather bull-whip and began to swirl it, setting it in motion before systematically setting about my nipples and chest with its stinging, cracking, accuracy. Only now did I start to understand what the deeper meaning of excruciating was.

I have never felt so much pain as when she wielded that whip and could not help myself writhing in my shackles with every stroke. In fact, Maggie had to order me to ‘stand still slave’ as with all my jiggling she feared that my restraints might become detached from the gantry. I suffered dozens of excruciating strikes across both of my nipples, while many more fell slightly wide of their intended target due to my consistent writhing.

My mind was screaming and I think I knew exactly what lessons Mistress was trying to teach: Honesty, accuracy and perhaps that Mistress always knows whats best for her subjects. Accuracy because Mistress needs to know exactly what pain she is generating at or near that 'threshold' and thus how much further she can push her student in the quest for perfection, and honesty because it is pointless trying to overplay the effect that elements of my training are having in the hope of a slave gaining some sympathy from Mistress. That is not how it works; how it should work, how I need it to work and certainly against Chambers Rule  1 - The slave must always be honest. . . On a much more basic level I knew I couldn't take much more of this pain and I just wished it could stop!

Then quite deliberately Mistress prepared her aim and I got the whip right across my cock and balls, to remind me to stay still, quickly followed by a kick from her high heeled boots. Luckily the stroke didn’t carry quite the same venom as those that had kissed my nipples, but enough warning to have me attempt to ‘stick that chest out’  for my Mistress and her next excruciating delivery. Mistress obviously had no need to have her slave in his red catsuit when she had a bullwhip to paint me red. As always, Mistress knows me well and Maggie knew I was now surely aware of the meaning of excruciating, at least for the next ten to twenty minutes anyway, where the meaning was to be reinforced. A classic teaching method of 'Tell, Show, Do, Repeat if necessary' and importantly, that I was genuinely approaching my limits.

Not content with a snivelling slave attempting to take bites from her broom stick because my chest was on fire, Mistress smiled and indicated it was time for a bit of fun with my balls. She handed me a rather large, extravagant looking electric device with a hole in it, and I was told that pushing my cock and balls through the hole would help take my mind off my nipples. What a choice. Burning balls as well as burning nipples and I have to admit feeling a little sorry for myself. On the other side of the coin, it was what Mistress wanted and that thought did make life easier to tolerate. I tried to attach the electro board but was unsuccessful, probably because I was still shaking, so plan B became the plan of the day.

We adjourned to the clinic where I was tightly strapped to the chair. There is just sufficient stretch in the straps to ensure that the one across my mouth stopped my lips from moving and kept my head absolutely still. I couldn't move my head at all and all I could do was stare at the ceiling as Mistress proceeded to rope my bits to her special bondage board, weave a few electrodes about my cock and start playing tunes on her electric organ.

Variety is the spice of life, or so Maggie encourages me to believe. In this instance the variety came in the form of a few different combinations of electrodes on her property, including cock confining metal ones and a bumper sized one stuck on my perineum, they all provided their own different sensations, but none that could remotely be described as excruciating.

Mistress normally tolerates me trying to stroke her bottom as she goes about her business but today. . . no chance. I think for the first time, my arms and hands were so securely strapped to the couch that they were rendered totally useless. However she did come in close, bending over me to seal my head in a thick, well-fitting gas mask that enables easy aroma delivery, and with the electro throbbing nicely in my groin I was soon feeling much much calmer.

Maggie indicated that she also had a natural source of medicine that needed to be inserted inside me. She lubricated her dildo invader with a large dollop of her spit and slowly introduced the medicine deeply into my bum as far as it would comfortably go. I feel so privileged to be able to receive the gift of any of her offerings in any orifices she chooses. To ensure I received the full benefits of the medicine, the dildo’s iron handle was placed between my thighs and tied there with rope. Maggie now had the joy of penetrating her slave at her pleasure with very little effort; hard, deep, fast or gentle, slow but still deep. It must have amused Maggie, what with my mouth strapped shut, cock and balls on-line and bum being lubricated by Mistresses juices . . . the things I do to keep Maggie happy . . . in reality that is anything and everything that she asks of me and I must admit I do love all the experiences.

My lesson in word meanings was not quite over yet though, my understanding of the word ’excruciating’ was about to be reinforced. Out came two very shiny instruments; two double pin-wheels, each attached to its own electric circuit. The tube they were brought out from had DANGER marked on it in red letters, a good sign that the contents could be frightful when used.

Fortunately, I still had the thick mask on, but even so I am sure quite a lot of noise emerged into the Clinic when Maggie rolled both pairs of pinwheels across my whipped nipples. After that, my nipples had received more than enough attention for one day and even the gentle touch of Maggie stroking them had me writhing and gasping for mercy.

And so with me finally educated in the meaning of excruciating the grand session finale arrived, and this time a real treat for her slave. Maggie connected her corrugated dildo hose to my gas mask, the dildo with the holes to allow some breaths, or at least until it is fully inserted inside your Mistress. As I gasped for breath I could hear Maggie gasping as well. I think that was quite a turn on for her, because each time my gas mask sucked onto my face because I had no air, Maggie arched her back and sighed. I can think of no better way to go than pleasuring my Mistress as I suck heavily inside her in a vain attempt to get air.

One of the objectives today was to help me better articulate the meaning of the word excruciating. I certainly need to change the comment from last times blog as in hindsight my nipples were only a little painful then. Today Mistress Maggie has provided me with a better understanding of the meaning of excruciating and I won’t be so reckless with its use in future.

A Slight Change of Plan

Mistress Maggie had given her clearest steer yet in the calling mail as to what was going to happen to her slave during this session.

'Your rubber Mistress has plans to escalate your training in order to harness the best performances from her slave.'

Not so much of a riddle this time and unusually I was able to interpret her words quite simply. I was to be placed in that stout body harness and hoisted off the ground to be hung like a side of beef and used by Mistress. I had had all night to imagine myself in this predicament and was quite ready for the experience as I rang the bell to the Chambers.

But first, the preliminaries. There are occasionally preliminaries and today Mistress wanted to discuss two things with me before I could engage in the obligatory worship of her footwear and the training ‘proper’.

The first needed me to have a steady hand to take a couple of photographs for Mistresses blog. Maggie wanted a photo of her modelling her satin bondage mitts and I found my hands shaking as I had to strap my Mistress inescapably into the mitts, fortunately I have had too much excellent training to even contemplate anything other than doing the job in hand, and a very good job with excellent results even though I say so myself.

The second preliminary was to recount my feelings and to let Mistress know of any side effects I had noticed following my previous session, when Mistress had performed my first bladder washout. No aches or pains; yes I could have taken more; yes it would have been interesting if the bladder was being filled from the top as well . . . er? - perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that judging by the big grin it put on Maggie’s face. Perhaps I should learn to keep quiet and not open my big mouth unless instructed!

After these two extra taskettes I was ordered onto the floor on my back to clean Maggie's boots and also for Mistress to indulge in a little nipple teasing with her long stiletto heeled boots. For those who have not had the privilege of having spiky heels driven into their nipples, it can be truly excruciating. However, I was luckily placated by being allowed to wear a pair of her used panties, carefully arranged by Mistress over the parts of my face that were snivelling the most and something I haven’t been allowed for a while.

The panties weren't the only thing Mistress wanted me to wear on my head, once she had stepped down from my chest it was time to check my lungs with a prolonged spell of bagging, that really got me breathing hard on Mistress’ scent which resulted in a happy but breathless slave and a happy Mistress, as she certainly does love her breathplay. Panties and bagging in one go, what a start!

Installation into my catsuit was swift and as for my butt plug, well that went in like the proverbial rodent up a drain pipe. A well-oiled procedure and no awkwardness whatsoever. I knew some floor work was imminent as Mistress passed me the Playroom knee pads and instructed ‘put them on slave’, swiftly followed by a rubber GP-5 mask rigged for self-medication of the attached aroma reservoir.

Today I found the mask incredibly comfortable. After a count of three, the mask was pulled tightly across my face and adjusted until we were both satisfied that it was in the right position. And yes, it was exactly right and I think I could have worn it all day. It was of course helped by the relaxing effects of the aromas, but whatever the reasons I was content with my lot; a GP-5’d slave in my own little rubber world as Mistress ceremonially locked a chain around my ankle and chained me to the Playroom. I say ceremonially because wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.

Maggie was flogging me at much less than her full power. With the medication, my head firmly on the carpet and music gently playing in the background I must admit to enjoying the experience and as Mistress proceeded, now using her dressage whip across my buttocks she stopped for a moment to say. ‘This whip always brings back fond memories of my fetish club days, because I always took it with me and it was so often needed’. A stout padded crop followed, a nine tailed whip and then a heavy leather flogger. I just relaxed and rode with the gentle stinging and thwacks that were raining down on my lower body.

With my backside and back gently warmed from the flogging Mistress moved the session along and produced the stout leather harness. I was a little surprised as I was expecting the suspension harness, but Maggie indicated that pulley system or not, she had changed her mind about lugging a huge 17 stone slave up towards the Playroom ceiling, so today she would be doing something a little lighter and I would be experiencing a little latex bed bondage.

Her chosen harness keeps the wearer quite rigid when tightly strapped, and before the wrist straps finally immobilized my arms by my side Maggie thought it would be fun if I were to dance a Highland jig and placed two dressage whips in a cross shape on the floor. I was instructed to ‘Dance slave or get the crops again’. It was actually fun and we both laughed as I commented that when my hands were finally strapped to my side I could entertain her with a Michael Flatley style of dancing. I did get my hands strapped in tight but fortunately wasn’t forced into performing an Irish jig. Maggie laughed and it was a delight to hear that sound again.

Lying immobile on the bed, Mistress started to fit me into the system mask. Last time I had difficulty accommodating the tight heavy hood, so on this occasion Maggie took much longer positioning it for the best fit, and not until I’d grunted that the mask was seated comfortably did she move onto the facial part. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable and accomplished at problem solving my Mistress is. She has made a thin extension section for the front of the hood, an optional extension which allows extra room for slaves, who like me, have been blessed with a rather big nose. I lay there, helpless, sealed inside, just the situation a true rubber slave loves to be in. By now the aromas delivery bulb was out of reach, so once again I found myself safely under the total control of Mistress.

As Mistress played with my cock she told me that she was going to fuck me with her electric sound. A simple conductive loop was used to capture my cock and balls and the urethral electro sound was inserted. The e-stim was raised to level 40, deemed by Maggie to be an 'ideal'! sensation level for her urethral wand, and I can only say that as she worked her magic I was indeed fucked with the electric sound and at last allowed to orgasm. The system mask was far more comfortable on this occasion and I think Maggie was quite pleased that I had managed so long before wimping out.

It was an unexpected journey that Mistress had guided me through today. Not strange physically but more one where Mistress manipulated the expectations of her slave, reinforcing that she can make changes at any time and altering the advertised experience. Maggie had told me exactly what was to happen, suspension, and my mind was anticipating being hung out to dry and it changed into a totally different type of bondage. It is remarkable how Mistress altered the direction that she wanted her slave to travel as the session progressed, and knowing the thoroughness of her planning I would not be at all surprised if this ‘slight change of plan’ was fully planned and scripted. At the end of the day Mistress can and does do whatever she wants with her slave and her rules also apply. Rule 9 – Mistress may change her mind at any time and Rule 15 – The slave must be ready at all times.

Maggie’s unexpected ‘change of mind’ gave an unusual twist to an already excellent training program. The session turned out to be a much gentler one than I had anticipated and that was strangely refreshing, although I suspect it won’t be too long before I am hung up and swaying from her ceiling. And a final tip for any lucky slaves who are offered the use of knee pads, I would suggest making use of them. They can be a little cumbersome when being walked on all fours, but today the pads allowed me to comfortably kneel for a long time during my flogging without my knees causing me trouble. Mistress Maggie thinks of everything.

Bladder Wash

Not to be confused with Fucus Vesiculosus, or to give it its more normal title, bladder wrack. That is a seaweed with considerable health benefit, whereas Bladder Wash refers to the reverse engineering that Mistress Maggie was keen to try and which I had naturally volunteered for. It may sound a little perverse, but as Maggie's slave I get a real buzz from being able to assist with Maggie’s projects and do something in return for all the hard work that she puts into my training, while offering myself as Maggie's guinea pig always results in wonderful new experiences.

On this occasion, my first task was to attend to Mistresses red ankle boots, with their red cross medical insignia they are a perfect match for her red latex stockings, and a pretty sure sign that I would be venturing into her clinic today. Mistress said that it had been a while since she had worn her nurse boots and being a little neglected they were in need of some TLC.

As I lay on the carpet lovingly and eagerly cleaning the boots Maggie asked if I was prepared to receive another saline infusion. Not into my balls this time but direct into my catheterised bladder. She had undertaken all the research, established it is a routine medical procedure but couldn't find any accounts of how the patient was feeling. This aspect was what Maggie was particularly interested in and wanted a commentary of how the infusion was affecting her subject.

However, before adjourning to the clinic to have my catheter inserted, I had asked Maggie to help measure me for a new garment I am hoping to buy. For an all too short a while I stood to attention, stark naked and happy for my Mistress to put a tape round here, there and everywhere until all twenty-two measurements were accurately recorded. I was then helped into my plum coloured latex suit and led off down the corridor.

Mistress is an expert in catheterisation and quickly had one inserted and attached to the 500ml bag of saline hanging on her drip stand. Despite the number of successful inserts, Maggie meticulously follows her routine of creating a clean, sterile environment for all similar operations. I just lay there, tightly strapped to the couch watching the drip of the saline gradually finding its way down the catheter and into the receptacle that was my bladder. All the while I was reporting back that there was no discomfort, and only towards the end of the 500ml did I detect any change. Although I had visited the loo before the session had started, after half a litre I was beginning to feel like I had a full bladder again.

While the last few drips were bladder bound Mistress filled her time by lacing up a leather cock corset around my cock, then pulling those laces tight. Electrodes were added next around my exposed balls and the e-stim set at Program 7, level 20; a very acceptable setting that I am sure most slaves will find stimulating and not torturous. With a little laugh I detected some amusement from Mistress, brought on by the tightness of her clever corsetry. 'There slave, that will help retain the fluids already dammed by your catheter and the electrodes will provide a little stirring for the extra liquid I've just infused'. 

I couldn’t work out if Maggie was pleased with the results so far but she went on to massage my filled bladder quite extensively to see if that elicited any further reaction. Oh and I nearly forgot. Mistress had opened my nipple zips and paid a lot of attention to playing with my buds and boy did I get some attention. So much so I had to self administer several hefty doses of aroma that Maggie had thoughtfully rigged up to anaesthetise her patient.

By this time, the combination of nipple tweaking, electrics and full bladder were definitely having an effect and I had to report a sharp increase in libido, the fact that Maggie kept admiring and stroking her corseted cock only added to the sensation. It was all that I could manage to prevent an embarrassing leak round the tight catheter tube!

Clamped and satisfied that my full bladder wasn’t going to be emptied until Maggie was ready, we made our way back to the Playroom where Mistress fetched the PVC sheet and unfolded it in the centre of the floor. That generally means one thing: I am to receive a generous helping of Mistresses nectar. Ah the sheer pleasure at the thought of her gift… I was instructed to kneel head down and wait whilst Maggie undid my back zip and started the next scene.

I heard gaffer tape being stripped from the roll and the first piece was strategically taped to my bum, then the second and a third. It then dawned on me that I had seen a picture recently and Maggie must be trying to recreate the very artistic taping. Judging by the photo, Mistress created an anal masterpiece. I think the use of white tape was a brilliant decision as my stretched opening was highlighted to perfection.

Obviously she was still not finished with my fluid infusion. Mistress fetched her Shenis and used my asterisk shaped asshole as the target for its aim, promptly scoring bullseye with the whole contents of her bladder. I think I couldn’t achieve a high enough bum position for complete Shenis entry as I did spill quite a bit on the PVC, but that is what it was there for after all. An inflatable bung was duly stuffed up my part-filled bottom, sealing it against unauthorised discharge.

Well, I can’t say that I hadn’t been forewarned, Maggie had briefly mentioned water in the calling mail she had sent to me.

 ‘As fit for an Aquarian Mistress, it will be water water everywhere, but will there be any to drink?'

Indeed, there was water everywhere and I was now being instructed to drink it. As I eagerly sucked it up, filling my bladder in a more typical perverse method, Maggie allowed me to consume all the spillage.

Feedback after acting as guinea pig for Maggie’s reverse engineered catheter? - I loved the whole experience. I always relieve myself pre-session to avoid moaning about needing the loo, so 500ml was easily accommodated in my empty bladder. The extra fluid consumption from the sheet was starting to make its presence felt as the session drew to a close and a few more minutes for it to percolate through and I would have had a slightly uncomfortable bladder. The Shenis was a nice touch for enema delivery but due to its angle, not a lot ended up as enema. And I must say that it is a good job I try and keep my body hair-free, because when Mistress Maggie removed the white tape it certainly got rid of any hairs I’d missed. OUCH!

And finally, with the inflated plug up my arse, it does make my rear look a little like a daffodil. Most appropriate as spring is coming.

Nippling Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am certain my owner knew that would happen!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Friday the 13th!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Self Service slave Station

No matter how stoic you want to be for your Mistress, Mistress Maggie knows just which buttons to press, or in my case, how much brushing a buttock can take before having her slave beg for mercy. I wouldn't dare to comment on the rights or wrongs surrounding my punishments, after all Mistress is always right so there are no wrongs, and in this instance I had been warned that I would be punished by Maggie for any erections I had whilst undertaking some recent research for her; a task which involved me scouring over thousands of photos, mostly of ladies dressed in skimpy undies and fetish clothing.

Mistress wanted to ensure I wasn't enjoying my work and instructed me to maintain a five-bar-gate for keeping note of the number of erections I experienced during my searching. My next session would begin with punishment for any infractions, where I had allowed my mind to wander.

Fortunately, of all the pictures I poured over, only four had me aroused enough to land me in trouble. These were of my owner and created an instant rush of excitement as soon as I spotted one. So when asked, I honestly replied ‘four Mistress' and for those four I received four minutes of spanking over Maggie’s knee, first with her hand then with the hard hairbrush which Ted had been quietly guarding. That bloody bear will have to go!

Initially my stoicism stood firm. I mean, over the knee of a beautiful latex covered woman, face down on the latex bed, what rubber slave wouldn't be in heaven? As my ass became warmer and warmer my resolve began to crumble, and but for my face being buried deep in the latex bed I would have been begging for mercy earlier. Sometimes I think this slave is a bit of a wimp.

Success: Maggie was determined to help me with the fitting of my new, bigger red butt plug. It has been available for a while and forms one of our medium term objectives. After fixing her property to the high horse, copious doses of lubrication and aroma were supplied to her slave, finger stretching and dildo stretching and final success as the red butt plug was pushed all the way inside me. It’s a little tight and compact at the moment, however, the red plug or Big Red as I now think of my friend, has at last found its new home.

Failure: Big Red is obviously not yet fully acclimatised to its new environment and popped out again, indicating more expansion may be required before BR settles into its new home permanently. I will enjoy stretching out BR's new accommodation, Maggie told me I will.

After all this exercise, what was once an ordeal fitting my black plug became quite routine and it slipped easily and painlessly into the space vacated by BR. But I think it knows it's on notice to quit to make way for a bigger occupier in the not too distant future.

Onwards and upwards. Mistress had asked me to bring my red latex catsuit today and in her usual sultry way she helped me slip into it. I love that feeling as Mistress smoothes the wrinkles and makes sure her property is suitably packaged. A bright red gas mask was pulled over my head and Mistress manoeuvred me into the centre of the Playroom underneath the substantial ceiling frame.

With my breathing now under Maggie’s control I stood rigidly still, waiting for anything and everything my Mistress wished of me. Not long to wait. From under a covered mound of 'secret' equipment emerged the slave tray that I had so proudly worn on our 100th session.

The wooden tray was strapped around my waist and its supporting chains latched onto my slave collar, then a few inches at a time, the front then rear pulleys were released to lower the suspension frame to the height of my shoulders.

‘Squat slave'. Obviously I didn't go down far enough because in a firmer voice I was ordered again. 'I said squat slave’. Then it twigged, I was to squat low enough for the stocks to be slid in place and then locked around my neck.

Mistress checked if I was comfortably locked in the stocks and a couple of adjustments to the pulleys were necessary before I could confidently grunt, 'yes that's absolutely fine Mistress’. Immobilisation was almost complete, I was attached rigidly; slave, stocks, red latex hood and frame as one. Mistress took my hands and secured them together behind my back.

And there I stood and this time it wasn't a voluntary standstill, I just couldn't move. My neck was held vice like, my wrists were likewise and all I could see through my backwards tilting gas mask goggles was the occasional glimpse of Maggie's superb latex covered reflection in the wall mirror. Well, there was nothing to be done but stand still and make sure the contents of the tray were ready and stable and most importantly, do not embarrass or upset Mistress!

A breathing hose was the next item to emerge from the ‘secret’ mound of equipment and inevitably I was soon depending on it for air. A travel kettle appeared, several items of food and crockery, all lifted for me to see before being placed on my tray. Ah, the hint in the calling mail was starting to become a little clearer  '. . . Your Clinic appointment is scheduled for 4pm but self service refreshments are available while you are waiting. . .'  One item at a time, I was being transformed into the Self Service slave Station; part of the furniture in Maggie’s rubber refectory and delighted to be so. The final addition to my tray was the bubble bottle and I was the SSsS for as long as Maggie wished. It must have sounded really funny to Maggie; kettle starting to boil, slave bubbling away through the bottle, creating a unique blend of fresh carbonated water, and with really sensitive hearing she would have detected a low purring, very contented sound emanating from within the mask.

When all was set, Mistress turned on some of her favourite music, Michael Chapman, and proceeded to dance and sway in a most provocative way. I didn't catch all this sensual movement, but what I did catch had an alarming but not unpredictable effect on this red blooded, red latex'd, self service refreshment area. Despite my limited vision I could see at least another ten entries appearing on my five-bar-gate record of erections.

Thankfully, Mistress did allow me to take part in her snacking; a distinct whiff of cheese and onion crisps made its way up my breathing tube as its open end was unceremoniously dunked inside Mistresses crisp packet, while the amplified sound of her crunching noises made the smell of cheese and onion all the more tantalising, frustrating as well of course, because that was as near as I came to refreshments.

Like the good citizen she is, Maggie wouldn't just discard her rubbish. Unfortunately, the empty crisp packet was then placed safely inside my breathing tube. That caused a little consternation, but I remembered some advice from a very dear friend. 'Don't panic. . .'

After Mistress had eaten up everything from her SSsS, a toilet break was becoming necessary. Not for me of course because I may have sniffed Mistresses crisps but that was as close to food or drink that the refreshment station had come. It was Mistresses needs that required attention, and once I was freed from my vending machine duties, on went the collar and leash and I was to attend my Mistress as she relieved herself in the bathroom. Imagine the frustration watching all her golden champagne being flushed down the toilet without any being offered to her willing slave. Sometimes Mistress can be really cruel and sometimes, like on this occasion, she must be cruel to be kind. Mistress was being kindly cautious while she was taking a course of medicine prescribed by her Doctor. So, it was paper tissue duty only for her slave today.

We took a different route back from the loo and I was led through to the clinic, where I was instructed to mount the couch and manoeuvre into a very comfortable, reclining and restrained position on the couch. There are times when I really feel sorry for Mistress having such a long, large slave. I might be relaxed and comfortable with my feet in the stirrups, whereas Mistress has to hold her tummy in and squeeze round my sticking out feet to get closer access to her slave. But I can still get up to a little mischief as she squeezes past; I wriggle a latex covered foot against her chest or stomach, or whatever other bit of my owner is trying to manoeuvre past. I suspect that little pleasure may be curtailed and I really shouldn't divulge slave secrets so readily, although I have promised to be always honest to my owner and I do recognise the sacrifices that poor Mistress has to make to keep her slaves happy and pumped up, or even a Self Service slave Station maintained in good order!

Now the time for onwards and downwards had arrived. Down below, Mistress was going to make use of her newly stretched slave hole and fill me up with a rather large anal impaler. The heavy iron structure was prepared for insertion, cunningly attached between my legs and equally cunningly attached tightly to my exposed balls. Ease the impaler out, stretch the balls out; two birds, or should I say balls, with one stone. Have I mentioned before that Mistress is incredibly organised in her planning?

Ah yes, those Boston nipple pumps. The last time I was to have them one had gone missing, a lucky escape, although I did have to suffer an alternative instead. Mistress does not forget and had promised me that once she had found the pumps she would put them to good use. Hmm, well they have now turned up and I would be feeling them later. Mistress was also considering using a recently acquired metal cock device on me today, however, when she inspected it she was not convinced it was as good as advertised, she wanted my opinion and asked if I wanted her to try it out. I had personally tried a similar unit myself and found it singularly useless, it falls off unless you hold it firmly and even then it doesn't do what it says on the tin. I felt really proud and valued as Mistresses slave because Maggie considered my report and consigned the toy to the stainless steel bin with a loud and final clatter.

It was amusing, laying there in my white medical hood, with a dildo temporarily occupying BR's home, alternating between receiving aromas via the anaesthetic mask and breathing steadily through the snorkel into a rebreathe bag, being able to watch Mistress attempting to fit the Boston's. A normal person really needs three hands for this deployment, but Mistress managed well with two by holding the brass pump and the nipple cups in place with one hand, whilst operating the pump with her other. Have I mentioned before that Mistress Maggie is exceptional and not normal?  Whether it was the effect of the aromas or just the effect of the proximity of my owner, but these little Boston's were pleasant to wear and quite benign. On reflection, that comment may well come back to bite my nipples in future sessions!

Happy that everything was attached and inserted as planned, Mistress concentrated on my middle bit round my opened crotch zip. Always a good place for her to stick some electrodes. A urethral sound was inserted in my cock and an unusual stick-on electrode attached at the base. It may be due to the size of the rather large hospital electrode used at the base of the cock, but all the sensations were concentrated there with almost no stimulation from inside the cock and a good rhythmic dance lesson was had by all. Maggie then set about adding a bass rhythm to my anal invader as she steered it up my passageway. Long slow ins and outs of the fleshy dildo, long slow outs any ins of my secured balls, whilst all this being accompanied by a 'quick-quick-slow' rhythm round the ballroom.

Wow! Another unique and exceptional session ended all too quickly. The new aromas that Maggie used were the most potent and enjoyable I have experienced and strangely, once I had adjusted to the initial discomfort of the neck stocks, my only 'discomfort' was the inability to see enough of my owner. I mentioned this to Mistress in our post session debrief, where I may also have mentioned what an excellent and exceptional owner she is.

A rather strange bottom line is the after effect of the neck stocks. It has had a most beneficial effect on my neck muscles and I find I can move my head more easily now. Perhaps Mistress Maggie the physiotherapist might be a future addition to her medical options?