A Rubbery Day

‘Looking forward to a rubbery day.’ - That is all the information Mistress Maggie provided for today's session. On the one hand it seemed pretty straight forward, as Mistress knows my liking for latex, but on the other hand the possibilities were endless so I gave up trying to work out any form of rubber scenario. Oh well, I will do what I always do and trust my Mistress and go with the flow, it’s always worked well for me and I have never been disappointed in all my previous 165 sessions.

The rubbery theme got off to an absolutely spectacular start. Maggie greeted me at the Chambers door in her stunning black catsuit that fits her so perfectly, adorned with a new silver chained belt. I am always gobsmacked by the stunning beauty of my Mistress, and this spectacular yet simple ensemble ranks as one of the most stunning.

In the Playroom the rubber theme continued, starting with the lovely rubber smell. The latex covered bed had been prominently positioned in the centre of the room, while nearby, a thick rubber sleepsack was hanging idly on its hanger waiting to greet its next incumbent, me I hoped.

One stud at a time!

Mistress asked if I had my black shorts in my rubber kit bag and seemed disappointed when I said they weren’t there. I had noticed an open seam in them, so had left them at home waiting for a repair. Luckily the disappointment was short lived, because after a good rummage around in the bag I uncovered another pair, virtually identical but in charcoal rather than black. That 'foresight' was a sign of my excellent training, as worshipping Mistress requires that you are ready for anything. On this occasion I was!

Without further ado I was sent to the bathroom, quickly returning wearing my slave collar, latex socks, gloves and newly found shorts, and diving into a prostrate position at her feet I set about worshipping Maggie's shiny studded boots. As was her desire, Mistress had rationalised the worship regime and I was to concentrate my worshipping skills on the brass studs down each boot. Moving my tongue in square shapes I busily licked, kissed and cleaned each one until every stud had received equal attention.

Today Mistress left my normal butt plug on the counter, choosing an inflatable one from her own collection instead. She carefully covering it with a condom and shoved it where the sun don’t shine. There was no way of guessing where my owner was taking me, but the next move was to lie on the bed where Mistress shackled my hands to the bed-head. This could have been a wonderful development but it turned out to be quite painful. Mistress is still intent on continuing my nipple training in order to make them more playful, and after a few questions about what I had done to improve them since my last session she bent over to see how they were progressing. Her focus turned on the ‘misbehaving’ left one, which she gripped between her finger and thumb and began twisting, stretching and generally making life a little uncomfortable for it.

A beautifully cruel image of my Mistress lifting my left nipple

It was only when I started begging for mercy that she moved onto my right nipple, to demonstrate the softer delights a ‘behaving’ nipple can receive. Stretch, pinch and nasty twist etc on the left, then gentle caresses and teasing to the right one; oh the pain and pleasure Mistress can concurrently administer. Strangely, after all her pulling, which almost had me lifted by my left nipple, planting a serrated toothed clamp on my bud was almost a relief, and for a fleeting moment I actually started to enjoy that different sensation. But what a relief when Maggie announced that she had finished my nipple training for now, though not without getting that final unexpected twist in before moving on to her next interesting slave game.

It has been a while since Maggie’s stainless steel Humbler has been deployed on me, but I was sure I just received another glimpse of it as a shiny silver thing moved across my line of sight. My fears were confirmed when I heard the distinctive rattling noises of Mistress dismantling it, followed by the touch of cold steel as all of its various parts were reassembled like a Meccano kit around my cock and balls. One thing I can say for the super Humbler is that it was more relaxing having my nuts fixed in its vice like grip than having a left nipple so brutally abused.

Once the Humbler was secured, then comes the delicate bit of assuming the best position for wearing it. Oh yes! - on your knees, device at the back and do not try to stand up, that's why its called a humbler! To achieve a more uplifting and tighter fit against my thighs Mistress added a rope reign  to keep the stainless steel arms snugly in place. Thoughtful as ever towards her slaves suffering knees, Maggie casually tossed over the knee pads and suggested I might need to put them on, so it was quite an interesting predicament putting those on myself.

Just as well I did. I was instructed to kneel on all fours and with a lead attached I was taken for a very quick walk first round the Playroom, along the corridor to the bathroom, then another quick walk back to the Playroom. There the ball stretcher was adjusted until my balls were stretched far enough to make contact with the waiting spikes. The pump tube dangled through the zip of my shorts and every now and then, Maggie would give it a squeeze or two to help fill that space left vacant by my own missing plug.

I probably shouldn't say this but it is a nice experience being walked, and with the fast dashing exercises over and my balls fully stretched the walk returned to a normal pace. Maggie would stop occasionally, reign me in and have me kneel to attention with my masked face close to her thighs, so close I could feel her warmth through the two layers of latex. Definitely much better than being lifted off the bed by my left nipple!

I may be an old dog but I'm a puppy at heart when with my Mistress. Maybe I am also odd, but I genuinely enjoy being Maggie’s pet dog, even when I am walked with my balls stretched to spiking point I like being her pet. However, we are not here for slaves’ gratification and we were soon moving towards the more 'rubbery' elements of Maggie's plans. Firstly and very carefully, I had to manoeuvre into the ideal position to facilitate the removal of the humbler, then it was a simple matter of Maggie unlocking it, de-spiking my balls and using the allen key to remove the rest of the ironmongery.

I was feeling quite warm by now and after a drying down Maggie had to use quite a bit of talc to help squeeze me into my catsuit, making sure the tube from the butt plug was safely through the crotch zip. The slumbering sleep sack was finally woken ready to consume yet another very willing victim. Its jaws gaped large as Maggie guided her slave inside, legs right down to the feet, arms right into the attached mitts, zip opened at crotch for the butt plug tube, and finally the long slow pulling of the zipper enclosed her slave in a second rubber layer.

When the system mask came out it seemed that Mistress was going to keep her promise of giving me a second go at the rather heavy bondage and breathplay scene that we had to abandon a while ago, because I had a bad bout of catarrh. ‘Are you sure you are well enough to handle this mask today slave?’. A question that I could quickly and very enthusiastically confirm.

Care and attention from a very careful owner.

The bondage continued, though this time I was not given the heavy body harness, instead I had a stout  leather corset wrapped round me and Maggie was pulling really hard on all the straps to make it as tight as possible before my arms were strapped to it. My legs were bound with an ankle strap making me behave like a skittle, I could have just toppled onto the bed I suppose, but Maggie chose to help me hobble there and once safely seated the two parts of the system mask could be assembled on me.

Mistress was making absolutely certain that there would not be a repeat of last time, allowing me plenty of time to get used to breathing through its hoses. Everything was going well, except for my vision which was misting up at a rate of knots. It’s a frequent problem, gas masks are always misting up and obscuring the view of my beautiful Mistress, but this time Mistress said, ‘I’ve got something for that! Stay there, I’ll be back’. Two minutes and a couple of squirts on the inside of the lenses later, and hey presto, my vision was brilliantly restored. It whiffs a bit but the smell soon goes.

Once on the bed Mistress was getting handy with the straps again, binding up my legs with more of her leather. No choice but to lie back and like it, no way I was going anywhere. Actually I really love that feeling of total dependence and control by my Mistress, more so when I can feel the size of my butt plug increasing, just like it was now! That was my life for the next 45 minutes or so as Mistress introduced additional challenges to my already wonderful situation.

A very happy and relaxed slave.

I was left for a few moments to acclimatise to my new view of the world and to wearing the system mask before Maggie introduced aromas, gently squeezing on her hand pump and sending the intoxicating vapours into my breathing circuit. More acclimatisation to the aromas and I was quietly floating away when I sensed Maggie was readying the bubble bottle. Right next to my ear I could hear the delicate tinkle of Mistresses juice falling on plastic, the aromas were working as I could almost feel the fresh warmth of her nectar as it poured into the bubble bottle and I was made to inhale it. Only a couple of adjustments and it was travelling through the pipes and I was happily bubbling away, and yes, I could taste my Mistress as my air bubbled through her pee . . .

It is such a wonderful experience when Mistress comes fleetingly into view through the lenses, but probably the most sensual part of this confinement was the gentlest of caresses on my rubber encased body. Mistress didn't need to do this, after all I wasn't going anywhere, yet the very act of a gentle touch or a smile really sets my mind at rest, knowing I am in the safe hands of a caring Mistress and that I would do anything for this wonderful lady. . . and I could swear my butt plug just got a bit bigger!

I was pleased Maggie took the time to for me to get comfortable in the system mask and I think Maggie was too. It was the longest period I have enjoyed in this situation but all beautiful things come to a natural conclusion. The butt plug must have been enormous by the time we finished, yet it remained comfortable deep inside. I have just experienced another wonderful session with my Mistress and loved every minute of it. Even the nipping, once you survive, which I always do, leaves me with a wonderfully sensitive nipple and a reminder of my wonderfully sensitive Mistress Maggie.

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!

Chalk and Cheeze

Chalk and Cheeze. That is the only way I can describe the contents of my Christmas session with Mistress Maggie. Mistress gave absolutely nothing away in her calling mail. Not even a glimmer of the delights to come. It was really strange as I was going through my pre-training routine; light lunch shower etc. Normally I tend to focus on some hint and try to work out a possible scenario, mind you, I am always wrong because Maggie knows her property well and produces the exact wording that will confuse her dumb slave. Help! This time, nothing. I can't begin to describe the thoughts that were racing away inside those tiny brain cells.

It was with just a little more excited trepidation that I poked out my finger and rang Mistresses door bell; one ring only and don't be tempted to push it a second time. Mistress, as usual, only kept me waiting a short while before some of my worries were dissipated with the vision of a true Goddess, her figure partially hidden by the front door, yet fully hidden from the innocent gaze of anyone who chanced to be passing. But I got the full stunningly attractive view of Mistress in her tight short black latex dress and wonderfully patterned legwear. This was starting to look a lot like Christmas!
As I followed my owner up the stairway to heaven I did give a smile, as I had noticed two feint talc marks on those otherwise perfect latex covered orbs that I have come to love and admire. Only the slightest of smudges where Mistress must have smoothed her dress, but oh how I wish it had been me that had put them there. A problem indeed: If I tell Mistress about the smudges I run the risk of incurring black marks against me. If I say nothing and Mistress finds out then I am damned for being negligent. Honesty as always is the best policy and Mistress asked me to wipe the marks away with a cloth. No second bidding, on to her gorgeous bottom and give it a gentle polishing. ‘That will be enough now slave’. Admittedly I had been taking my time and Mistress promptly put a stop to my polishing before explaining that I would be rockin around the Christmas tree and helping with tree decorations for the first half of my session.

After suitable worship to Mistresses court shoes my bum was plugged and I was told to climb into my catsuit, and yes, unlike last time when I got myself in a twist, I remembered to do up the crotch zip. A comfortable latex hood was zipped on my head but no gloves were allowed, as they may hamper the delicate handling of the Xmas baubles.

I was given an introduction to the six foot assembled tree before receiving my first task, to untangle the two strings of Christmas lights and test them out. Mistress had made sure I was well insulated from any short circuits by dressing her slave in head to toe rubber uniform, thankfully such protection was not really required because all of the bulbs lit up and ready to go. Round and round the tree I went, decorating it with the first string of lights. My first effort definitely did not fill Mistress with tidings of comfort and joy, the lights were not evenly spread; lots of lights twinkling at the top of the tree and not much happening down the bottom, Mistress suggested she would fix that problem later! For the moment, off came the lights and with Maggie’s help they were soon installed more evenly.

Mistress was keeping a tally of my decorating performance and added another counting mark to my list of errors. What concerned me were the black marks that were already chalked up; accidentally taking the base from its socket, several branches coming unhinged, the occasional bauble that ended up on the floor, things like that, until eventually I was satisfied that the fairy could be mounted on top of the tree, then all that was required was to step back and await approval from my Mistress.

John, Maggie's husband, who had put the tree together and watched with some anxiety as I started to destroy his creation took charge of the final moving and positioning of the tree.

After a final inspection, the tree lights were turned on and Maggie’s face magically lit up with a smile. I think she was pleased with my tree trimming abilities. It felt really natural and festive being able to help my friends in this way and an added privilege to be welcomed to serve in their home. Call it cheesy but I loved that ordinary domestic scene of slave following Mistresses instruction and helping decorate their tree. Even useless slaves have their uses and I was able to rejuvenate some abandoned baubles by taking charge of making new hanging ribbons for them and a place on the Christmas tree.

During my last few sessions I believe I have been a disappointing wimp of a slave, so I was delighted when Mistress wanted a record of her slave having done something right, a photo was to be taken for the archives. It was smiles all round as I posed with my owner in front of our completed yuletide efforts. What was a lot more sinister were the words Mistress whispered to me as I stood grinning like a Cheshire Cat. ‘It's a shame that such a festive occasion as dressing the tree should fall on the same day my dog is to be castrated.’

That did take the glow somewhat off the situation. I have acted as Mistresses pet dog before and I really hoped to hang on to my balls. I gulped and started thinking of excuses why I should retain my testicles but each argument came to and abrupt cul-de-sac with the promise I had made to Maggie, 'To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question.' If that wasn't enough to worry about Mistress casually mentioned that I’d earned myself eight chalk up marks for my clumsy errors.

We took our leave of John, or more precisely, Maggie ordered me to follow her back into her Chambers to begin the operation. On the way upstairs, Maggie mentioned that I would be castrating myself and that thought did not fill me with any sense of calm!

Rule 9 came to mind: Mistress may change her mind at any time. Perhaps Mistress could use rule 9 now and pick something a little more seasonal for dealing with my nuts. Roasting my chestnuts on an open fire, or decking the balls with boughs of holly suddenly seemed very attractive options when compared with a looming castration.

I was relieved, to say the least, when I was spread-eagled to the Playroom bed. Surely an operation of such magnitude would require the clinic, wouldn't it? However, my celebrating was a little premature because Mistress had warned that I would be in a position to castrate myself, and to do that she would be deploying her fearsome stainless steel humbler.

Since my last encounter with her steel humbler, Mistress has gained a lot more confidence and become far more competent at fixing it tightly in place. Maggie straddled my outstretched thighs and firstly applied the weight, pulling on my balls until they could be neatly locked away inside it, more ball pulling and the humbler bar itself was on. All the while Maggie used her fingernails, drawing them along the length of my cock and vulnerably tight balls, I fleetingly thought that she may use her nails as scalpels and actually de-nut me herself. No, her plan was set and she was to continue with the humbler; the scratching and pulling were merely a distraction.

Screws began turning and my balls began moving further and further away. ‘Let me get this machine tight enough then your balls might simply drop off of their own accord’. Now I was beginning to understand how her pet dog would end up de-nutting himself! Maggie seemed to get great delight from her continued scratching and squeezing of my nuts and the formal 'stretching' process hadn’t even begun. I got the odd glimmer of that glorious smile and that wonderfully scary laugh as she cruelly menaced with my balls. I certainly wasn't going to complain as I could see Mistress was simply having a wonderful Christmas time, and if torturing the bollocks off her rubber dog gives her a festive buzz, then so be it.

A good separation between humbler and ball stretcher had been achieved, ‘Ah, more than a good rulers width’ was the size report. Maggie then began applying her ball crusher with its spiked side pressing into my balls and proceeded to tighten those nuts as well. A little more stretching resulted in a little more spiking; an agonising catch 22 predicament for her slave. I wish Maggie would use a metric ruler, they seem far narrower!

From earlier experiences using the metal humbler we have learned that it’s possible to stand me up slowly, or at least have me in a crawl position where I can spread my legs really wide, the whole humbler can then be manoeuvred into its correct, rearward attitude. One slip here and I really could castrate myself, so very careful contorting does it. I think secretly Mistress was pleased that I had managed to get the humbler into the correct position without removing her balls, as I know she gets pleasure from severely torturing them occasionally. Where would the joy be in using a crop on a pair of removed balls in a Petri dish?

Maggie had certainly stepped my humbler training up to a higher level, the position of those screws are instrumental to the obedience of the dog. The spikes were cruelly biting into my balls, the screws were inexorably stretching my balls, every movement had me suffering, but things could be a whole lot worse if I stepped out of line. The good news is that we proved that my guiche piercing and stretched balls can peacefully coexist, well perhaps peacefully is not quite the right word, more I could tolerate their coexistence. And ‘Early next year I think we will fit a more larger squat bar in place of the training guiche’. Excellent, some of my future seems set and it does appear that my attached balls may well play a part in that future. I am very pleased to wear whatever size guiche Mistress decides on and I will wear it with pride.

Meanwhile, back to the here and now. I suddenly grew a tail and pointed ears so I could be led onto the balcony on all fours in true doggy fashion. It was one very steady and very slow walk but still the most difficult walk any pet could take, intensely worrying as well when my balls had been threatened with castration and we were heading towards the clinic! Whew, instead Maggie took a diversion and parked me next to the bannister and tethered me, a bit like you would tether a horse to a hitching post.

It was now that Mistress decided that the chalked up slate would be wiped clean. Not exactly wiped but hit hard, with the crop Mistress was carrying. And no, not across my backside, that was nicely protected underneath .8mm of rubber. No, straight on my aching, overstretched and already painful balls. Maggie had been trying to encourage her pet dog to make appropriate doggy sounds and those eight slaps really had me baying like the Hound of the Baskervilles and whining for her to please stop. I suppose I should consider myself very lucky that Mistress did actually remove the spiked bar before slapping my balls. Be thankful for small mercies. I think the stainless steel bowl was to catch my balls in the event of an accidental removal. I did say Mistress is really thoughtful towards her slaves.

I cannot stress enough how much relief it was to have the humbler finally removed. As I lay back on the rubber bed Mistress teased my cock with a little gentle stroking treatment. Despite my urgent desire to have relief as we were dressing the tree, now I was offered the opportunity, I just froze. My balls and my mind were in such disarray with the near death de-balling experience that I disgraced myself again and could not perform as ordered. What was more worrying, Mistress said we may need to re-address the castration as clearly the balls are not a lot of use attached, there was certainly a mention of that damned stapler making its reappearance some time in the new year.

Despite suggestions of further operations, I wouldn't have it any other way with Mistress Maggie. After all, a promise is a promise and she is Mistress of all she surveys and I hope you all have had a merry Christmas. I have already received my presents from Maggie.

Red Mistress to Green Goddess

Mistress Maggie opened the door and my jaw dropped. Maggie looked a vision in a very tight red latex two piece, her hair was an unexpected red colour and was cascading in waves over her shoulders. I was told to come in.

She motioned me toward her very sensual red lips and I thought I was going to receive one of those rare, heavenly, welcoming kisses that Maggie occasionally bestows on her slave. I was wishing so hard that I never noticed her hand go straight to the jugular and take hold of my slave collar, which she used to pull me in closer until I was within millimetres of her lips. Maggie withdrew having clipped on a leather leash, she was laughing and I was once more completely under her spell.

I had cleaned my wellington boots with a scrubbing brush that morning and brought them along as instructed. I must have looked particularly ungainly climbing the stairs, with the large welly box under one arm and my session bag on the other, but this was probably a good thing as I had an overwhelming urge to touch Maggie’s tightly clad bottom as she guided me aloft on the lead.

The calling mail had stated: Mistress needs your assistance with shifting some heavy stuff . . . and, as a simple slave, I thought I had a good idea as what was required when I entered the Playroom and saw the heavy Playroom bed, neatly covered in plastic and halfway from the wall. I wondered where Maggie was moving it to?

Oh well, that would have to wait as I was sent to the bathroom to return wearing my usual uniform of gloves and socks. What an amazing view I had as I lay on my back cleaning Mistresses black shoes. Gazing upwards past Mistresses tightly clad latex legs I became mesmerised by the red haired beauty that was smiling down at me. As I continued sucking and kissing first one heel then the other, Maggie matter of factly commented that I was cleaning away Scottish dust that had accumulated on her heels during her recent trip to Glasgow, I couldn’t help myself and responded by taking the heel out of my mouth and saying 'Och aye the noo' in an appalling attempt at a Scottish accent. It made Maggie smile and I was happy with that, and of course I immediately got back to work licking the Scottish dust off her heels, all the while being encouraged verbally by Mistress and physically with the regular and even thuds across my groin from her heavy Amsterdam whip.

I then had the delightful first experience of being fitted into Maggie's new catsuit. It’s a lighter weight and tighter one than my own and fastens with shoulder zips; a very snug fit for me and once those shoulder zips were closed, a deliciously tight experience. No time to lounge around enjoying the new suit though, and I had to kneel on the low punishment bench to have my butt plug inserted. Maggie spent considerably longer than normal lubricating and stretching my anus and commenting ’Feel that, I can get three and a half fingers in there’. I am not sure that Maggie has half a finger, I must have missed that.

In an earlier session Mistress had said she wanted more practice in fitting her 'Ball Stretching Toy', Maggie's title for her evil stainless steel humbler, not mine, and that time had arrived. The 'improvement' this time was that I was to receive the full 'benefits' from her Toy; ball stretcher and ball spikes would be fitted and operational, doing their CBT thing with my nuts. Rubber bandages were brought out and used to restrain me to the low punishment bench during the fitting, a loose and somewhat symbolic binding but effective all the same.

Mistress set about nutting and bolting the various sized metal pieces around my nether regions, occasionally consulting her diagram to make sure all parts were being assembled in the right order. I just lay there passively on my back, thinking the only toy that the Humbler could be likened to is the boys' favourite, meccano. It also finally dawned on me that the heavy stuff that I would be shifting was nothing to do with the bed at all, but rather, the heavy steel humbler device that Maggie now had fully locked and bolted to her slaves cock and balls.

You will notice an interesting conundrum. The humbler was most easily fitted by Mistress with me lying on my back, only to be told to sit up once the rubber bandages were released. Maggie then twisted and turned the Toy through my VERY wide spread legs until she was satisfied that her slave was correctly orientated with the BST. Toy indeed!

Once roped on, the leash was attached, I was allowed knee pads to protect my wonky knees, and we were off for 'walkies’.

A couple of turns of the screws to tighten the stretching and crushing and to make sure I was really 'enjoying' my exercise and off we trotted, round the room, off to the bathroom and . . . bollocks - I couldn't get the knee pads to stay on properly. This is not the easiest problem to resolve when you are fixed in a kneeling position and I really was in the dog house. But Mistress had this problem sussed; she knows how to get a bad dog ’walking on’.

Mistress walked ahead and draped her wonderful ass over the bannister. ‘You are a very bad dog. Come over here now and sniff your Mistresses ass, then if you can rear yourself up onto those hind legs of yours you can use your rubber paws to caress my wonderful bottom’.

My doggy ears pricked up, I was not going to miss out on such a wonderful invitation and I hurriedly limped and bounded across to where Maggie was leaning. No humbler was going to stop this doggy raising up and fulfilling his duty and I gently stroked and caressed her tightly latexed rear. In my earlier training I was far too afraid and thought it a great affront for a slave to contemplate such a sensual activity let alone be allowed to participate. Now, provided I have approval, I love the feeling of latex gloves on latex bum. Performed gently and with feeling my actions have Mistress purring and gently undulating those glorious globes, a truly wonderful experience for a slave, and Mistress, I really am sorry for my sloppiness with the knee pads.

This is the pose I presented to my owner back in the Playroom. I was then to adopt a similar pose on the low padded podium and Mistress did what any Mistress does with their pet; show it who's boss. First of all I was given a bone to chew; accurate description as it was a large, flesh coloured dildo that Mistress made me eat and almost swallow to let me gauge its size and then, in front of me, rolled a protective condom in place. I knew where that monster was now going.

That's why Mistress earlier declared a three and a half finger insertion. The dildo was larger than I normally accommodate, and as usual Mistress was very careful breaking new ground. Her strapon actually entered me really easily and despite, or perhaps because the humbler was still stretching and spiking my sensitive balls, the experience was exquisite. Maggie mentioned how the dildo was wider but a little shorter than before, nevertheless, she delivered several long, slow and very sensual strokes commenting on how pleased she was with the progress we had made since she first made inroads into that previously virginal ass; reminiscing on the moment when she first inserted her finger into my passage - Well, its dimensions are all a tribute to her own work, as Mistress owns that orifice exclusively along with the rest of me. My only comment was that Mistress allowed me too few long, slow strokes; perhaps all she needed to reinforce who is top dog in this relationship, or maybe didn't want her slave to embarrass himself by having too much fun? I think Mistress is pleased with her progress educating my back passage, I certainly am.

Removal of the 'toy' was remarkably easy and painless compared to the fitting, yet quite a relief I may add. After de-roping the harness, I was instructed to manoeuvre the Humbler to the front and lie back down and I was free in a matter of minutes. Removal of our latex wasn't quite as straightforward, our clothes had collected a lot of moisture. Anyone who is witness to the joys of heavy activities, no matter how pleasant, whilst sealed in a heavy latex catsuit, will appreciate just how much liquid can accumulate. As a precaution, Maggie insisted we both stand on a fresh towel and carefully help each other undress, a few moments in front of the Playroom fan and we were dry enough to proceed to Maggie's next planned activities.

The second part of the session was totally different; a plastic fetishists dream. Mistress has very recently become the proud owner of two vinyl 'radiation suits' and I now knew why I was to bring my boots. A proper 'nuclear survival' scenario was being created by my teacher. This inaugural run would also serve to see what improvements, if any, were necessary for the suits to operate successfully in the highly charged nuclear environment of Planet Playroom. We have learned from earlier sessions where PVC or latex clad feet have been involved, that ordinary socks are a necessity for getting the wellies on successfully and for minimising risks to the fabric. All four feet went into their respective boots and the gloves that are sealed onto the suits, well they fitted like the proverbial glove.

Maggie transformed the Playroom into a sultry, dark, sensual cave with the bed already being laid with clinically cool, green vinyl sheeting. The lighting was dimmed to be replaced with lanterns accompanied by a superb choice of mood music played to reinforce the realities of a post Brexit nuclear winter. The photo auto-flash could well have been another nuke; another reason to be with my owner taking hazmat precautions.

One improvement was immediately evident, to me at least. With the twin back zips snugly closed, I may have been protected from radiation poisoning but would die long before that took effect, as the suit is completely airtight. It is another superb experience to be slowly suffocating inside the strong plasticky smelling suit, whilst having an excellent view of my stunning owner through the clear plastic hoods. Mistress wisely left the top part of her hood open. Various options for preventing accidental suffocation were discussed, perhaps a mask with tube through the rear zip opening might suffice and even attached to a re-breather bag or bubble bottle. . . hmm. These decisions will be left to my Mistress to decide, her slave can only dream of the delights that await and Maggie was pleased with once more exercising her power over her slave.

Not content with watching her slave slowly expire, Mistress, decided to secure me in bondage. I quipped that the bed shackles would not fit round my boots, only to be spread-eagled with black rope to the bed corners. I really should know better than uttering such stupid comments! My vinyl environment was strong enough to take a few knocks, yet flexible enough to feel superb when zipped inside, and even better when my vinyl clad owner began sliding on top of her slave, finally moving into a straddle position right over my frustrated groin. She gazed into my soul, grabbed both sides of the loose plastic hood and gradually tightened the clear plastic across my face.

I think if I was going to die in a nuclear holocaust, this has got to rank as the top option for expiry. Lovingly gazing at my Mistress as she gently encourages all hope of survival to expire . . . then, just as I am starting to happily head to oblivion, the welcome influx of fresh air. It is so frustrating as Maggie knows that I love her being completely in charge of my breathing and really milks it; suffocating me, straddling my groin, the excited frustration growing each time Mistress repeats the de-breathing of her slave.

On a humorous note, when I complimented Mistress on looking like the Green Goddess, I received a playful rebuke for likening her to an old green fire engine, (look it up if you've never heard of a Green Goddess Fire Engine). I did try to explain I was likening her to the fit and rather luscious Diana Moran, who exercised her way through the BBC breakfast programme in the mid 80's. I was then treated to my own exercise routine from my own Green Goddess - Diana eat your heart out and you are officially deposed as my number one Green Goddess exercise queen.

We were nearing the end of another superb session and Maggie asked if I fancied a coffee? I playfully answered ‘No thank you. I'd prefer to stay here’. I had not expected Mistress to say OK and wander off to get a coffee for herself, closing the door behind her. She took ages, it was possible that she would not come back, leaving me all alone to wallow in vinyl and reflect on another session.

This slave now has a dilemma. I adore latex both me wearing and with Mistress wearing, I now think these vinyl suits equal the latex appeal, well almost anyway. I will equally enjoy whichever suit Mistress chooses for her slave to wear but on balance, I love stroking Mistresses buttocks in her tight latex. There is something mesmeric about standing, sitting, lying, being tied down and still be able to gently caress that superb form. I will make a mental note to stroke Mistresses latex clad buttocks on every occasion that presents itself.

Yet another brilliant session with a brilliant Mistress and I now know what to do in the event of nuclear fallout; go to my Green Goddess, Mistress Maggie's safe haven.

2016 - Ginger, Nut Inflation Figures

Record 2016 inflation figures have just been announced and are predicted to reach even higher levels as the year progresses, according to Mistress Maggie that well known, well respected and well loved North West slave owner; and a Happy New Year to all who may benefit from these higher than anticipated statistics.

Mistress outlined her session plan: I was to be her pet again today, and to get started I would require a tail; we would spend generous time in the clinic infusing a couple of bags of saline; then a leisurely walk round a local supermarket and perhaps a coffee; return to The Chambers where I would receive my final training for the day.

As Mistresses preference was for a black rubber dog I was sent away to make it so, returning on all fours in latex tee-shirt, shorts, gloves and socks. My pat on the head was replaced with an open faced latex mask, then raising my hind I received my tail; four anal beads with a long grab handle, you may just be able to see the end sticking out of my bum, and it wags a little when you move about.

With those hard balls filling me up I was consistently reminded that I had a tail. As Maggie's pet it is obligatory to walk with Mistress and catch up on some doggy etiquette, lead on and off we trotted, completing a number of circuits round the Playroom and finally ending up in the Clinic.

Most times I would be strapped down on the gynae couch in an instant, but today in my role of dog I was to stay off the furniture. Like every good dog I sat attentively awaiting my owners command, perhaps a little too attentive as my Mistress leaned over the couch in her heels and stockings and started provocatively teasing her dog.

I was soon sniffing and cleaning my Mistresses offered bum-hole as she slowly raised her latex skirt and eased the red latex briefs down to reveal it. I was instructed to get familiar with Mistresses scent just in case we were separated during our shopping trip. That would have raised a few eyebrows if I suddenly started sniffing ladies bottoms to check which one was my owner!

Anyway, with the open face mask, for the first time I had an unrestricted view of Mistresses pert little bottom and made quite a meal of being a good licking and sniffing dog.

Enough doggying. Onto the couch, and cock and balls given a good dousing with cocoa butter. Not gentle this time. Maggie was vigorous with the application and I am sure it was only to get her pet to whine, which I did, as she slapped it on, pulled my balls, thoroughly massaging my ball sac. Continuing the canine theme I was informed I was about to receive a proper pair of dogs bollocks, and after the necessary hygiene precautions Mistress stuck two cannulae in, attached two saline bags and set them infusing. A tourniquet was applied at cock base to help prevent the cock skin from being inflated.

Mistress, concerned that her pet may become bored waiting for my balls to fill and two saline sacks to empty, arranged a little distraction therapy to keep her pet amused for the twenty minutes or so.

First, she completely sealed my face inside a small rubber suffocation bag, but it soon became apparent that I wouldn't be able to last 20 minutes inside there without air, so instead she squeezed me into a translucent face mask with two small breathing holes. With a little concentration, breathe in and out slowly, the time flew by.

Once again, I experienced absolutely no discomfort or even awareness that my ball sac now had 400ml of saline inside. Mistress was very aware and gave her dogs bollocks a gentle squeeze. No roughness this time as I think she was a little pleased that she now had a pet who had adequate sized testicles or at least scrotum. Mistress whizzed out her tape measure to check dimensions, the circumference a whopping 13 inches this time.

Gingerly, Mistress helped me off the couch and we changed into our outside clothes. I had been advised to arrive in loose fitting trousers and that was certainly good advice judging by the room required by my increased sized dogs bollocks, Mistress put on her gorgeous rubber mac and off we went. The inflated ball sac had no impact or distraction on my driving and we arrived safely at the supermarket, where Maggie informed me that we were shopping for ginger - Ah yes, and every time she said 'ginger' I was to massage my swollen balls. She has a wicked sense of humour!

I was amazed at the number of times Maggie worked ginger into the conversation; when I was asking an assistant for help; when she was sizing up the various roots: other times it was just dropped in during a lull, which made our post shop coffee stop most interesting.

Maggie seemed pleased that I managed to carry coffee to her table without any spillage, she said I deserved reward and she would stroke my nose later, but for now her lucky dog was allowed one biscuit!. Actually it was interesting because of the light relaxed conversation and the remarkable Mistress I was with. Back at chambers I was allowed to take a photo of Mistress and her ginger - ah more ball massaging for me.

I had read on various web sites about where the ginger was going and the warming effect it would have once inserted; a process referred to as ’figging’ I believe. So I was a little apprehensive about this one. It was going to happen because Mistress told me it was necessary for the annual worming of her pet, but would I be able to withstand the bum warming?

Mistress sat on my back with knife and tray, peeling the outer layers from the ginger root, shaping the root for my bum size and fixing a rope round it for safer extraction. It was difficult to massage my balls whilst kneeling on all fours with Mistress sat on my back, but Maggie still kept mentioning 'ginger'.

I'm sure Mistress makes up these remedies just to give enjoyment to her dog, as she insisted I would receive six strokes of the senior cane, which in turn would cause my bum to clench on the ginger, which in turn would help the warming and worming process. At least I was allowed to keep my rubber shorts on for the duration of my caning.

And so to bed, or at least attached to the bondage bed with shackles. After all this excitement and pleasure she had given her pet, Maggie thought it was high time that her pet should give her pleasure. Spreadeagled it was easy for Mistress to mount my face, when she said that she would stroke my nose I never thought that she would do it with her red latex panties. Maggie lowered herself onto my mouth, nose, chin and facing forward, facing backwards and any way, Maggie ground away. I was left having some remarkable views of a remarkable Mistress and hearing some remarkable sounds as Maggie used her dog in some unusual ways. I certainly ended up with one helluva shiny wet nose.

This is the face of one happy and contented dog, pleased that I could give my Mistress some pleasure in exchange for all her hard work invested in my training. As for doggy’s pleasure, it was all over in a couple of shakes.

Did I endure the ginger?
Yes, the sensation was warm but not excruciating like I had feared. The cane made a warmer impact but that was supposed to happen.

Did the tourniquet safeguard my cock from inflation?
Partially. Once removed over the next few days as the saline dissipated, some of it moved up the cock and I received a very pleasant puffy, expanded and heavier cock to play with.

How long to dissipate?
Probably four to five days, but I love the feeling it leaves of expanded ball sac and heavier penis.

Are the inflation figures likely to increase in 2016?
Yes in the flick of a dogs tail and without question, but then that is not my decision to make as Mistress Maggie owns the real estate down there.

To the Woods

Ode to my Mistress; Mistress Maggie.

If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise.

If you go down in the woods today, you'd better go in disguise;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day that Mistress has her picnic.

Every Yorkie dog who's been good is sure of a treat today.

There's lots of marvellous things to eat and wonderful games to play.

Beneath the trees where nobody sees they'll hide and seek as long as they please

For that's the way latex bears have their picnic.

Picnic time for rubber dogs

The rubber dogs are having a lovely time today

Watch them, catch them unawares and see them picnic on their holiday.

See him gaily gad about.

They love to play and shout.

They never have any cares.

At three o'clock their mummies and daddies will take them back home to bed

Because I'm a tired little doggy bear.

If you go down in the woods today, you better not go alone.

It's lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day the rubber dogs have their picnic.

It had been far too long since my previous session, when Mistress Maggie mailed me to remind me that the four year anniversary of my fortunate entry into her slave training program was upon us. As you would expect from a caring Mistress, she thoughtfully asked how I would like to celebrate. There was only ever one answer that I could make, and I e-mailed back saying I would like her to choose from her 'bucket' one of the activities she wanted to perform before it was too late.

Four days before our next scheduled session I received this rather exciting e-mail:

" . . . Fridays training time has been amended to 1pm.

I recommend that you do some private reading in preparation for Friday. Be a good dog and recap on your obedience and discipline training as practised in session 75, 16 Jan 2015. . ."

I had four whole days to bone up on the aforementioned session, and the night before Mistress reminded me with:

". . . You are required to assist your Mistress with an outdoor fantasy adventure, your job to drive me to a secret location where dogs are allowed to walk. The temperature may be a little cool but the forecast is for fine weather. You will be required to take on the characteristics of a dog, albeit a rubber one, and with further instruction partake in exercise and disciplines as suits a well behaved canine. . ."



My Playroom training in the following disciplines were thoroughly tested on our walk and I was expected to complete -

 Walk smartly to heel

 Stay on command

 Run and retrieve a thrown object
 Jump for an object

 Come when called

 Rest quietly at Mistresses feet

The pictures speak for themselves and can only give a limited impression of what a fantastic afternoon we were able to enjoy. There were one or two special moments. I really delighted Maggie and photographer husband John when I returned the yellow 'fetch' ring cradled in a paw; they both thought that I wouldn't be able to retrieve the ring but I was determined to make it happen, and when I was sitting next to my Mistress with my snout gently cradled in the lap of her rather gorgeous rubber coat.

We were fortunate that the location is VERY secluded, but what would anyone have thought who came across the three of us? Quite frankly, I didn't care. We were out enjoying the autumnal weather, everything decent (apart from maybe when Mistress Maggie was fixing my butt plug tail), and it was a Mistress/friend and her dog out to play taking a few excellent photos.

We returned to the Chambers, a cup of coffee later we finished an excellent anniversary bash with some impromptu action. That in itself is worth a read but I will be reporting on that shortly.

Finally, I would like to thank Maggie's husband John for turning out on a coolish but dry autumn afternoon and taking the excellent photographs despite the remnants of a cold. Thanks John.

Hard Session in the Playroom

Every now and then Mistress Maggie designs a session that really tests her slaves resilience and staying power. Individual exercises can look innocuous, but when you string them together, you get a real work out. Today's session was just that. I was knackered towards the end of my exercises to the extent that Maggie enquired if I was all right. Oh yes. I might have looked clapped out but emotionally and mentally I was right there, and the feeling after the ordeal was one of inner peace and adoration for the perfect Mistress.

The calling mail totally confused me '. . . I am looking forward to climbing into some rubber too and engaging in more than a spot of titillation, while I dominate your erogenous zones you have a more simpler job of keeping a lookout for Mistress. . .' I spent quite a lot of the 24 hours between mail and session trying to work out Maggie's thinking and how best I could help my Mistress have a happy session. I eventually gave up because I knew that whatever Maggie was planning would inevitably have hidden surprises and new experiences.

Mistress sat relaxed on her throne as I conducted worship of her already shining shoes, with my backside ominously in the air and well within range of Maggie’s extended crop, which she occasionally flicked at me, not enough to cause pain, just enough to tease and excite. ’On your back now slave’ I was ordered onto my back with with my head looking up at Maggie's gorgeous thighs; a position that brought my nipples in play range of the long stiletto heels that I had been worshipping, and that is just what Mistress proceeded to do. Gently placing each heel in turn on those most sensitive of nipple spots, wriggling her heel tips in and applying more and more tenderising pressure. That really started to take my breath away, but not as much as my fabulous view. I was able to gaze at the back of the most anatomically perfect pair of thighs that you could wish

for, the very tops being teasingly covered by Maggie's black latex mini dress and the sheerest pair of tan tights. The intense pain didn't seem too bad as occasionally I caught a glimpse of my smiling Mistress through that little v-shaped gap at the top of that perfect matched pair of legs. At last, Maggie once again sat cross-legged and satisfied, my nipples were already tender and I was prepared for anything Maggie wished of me.

What a magical change in sensations as Maggie now helped me into some heavy-weight latex. I get the impression that it’s not just me that gets pleasure from this activity as I am squeezed, pulled pushed and coaxed into my catsuit, then hung up by the rafter ring for latex polishing. Gag to reduce moans, blindfold to stop spray and Mistress is perfectly happy for 10 minutes or so polishing, teasing, stroking and generally fussing over her rubbered slave. And me? - I’m naturally more than happy as the soft cloth moves over my latex skin and even softer hands get to places cloths and hands don't normally polish. I love this activity, and fortunately for me it is a regular and very welcome part of my training.

So far my session seemed to involve a lot of changing sensations, and the next one included the novel application of the Playroom stocks. I have experienced this item before and it is bloody heavy! Today they were hung from the overhead gantry by four stout chains. Seated on the low punishment bench I had my legs hitched to a spreader bar, head clamped in the stocks, wrists strapped to the eyelets, and the whole lot gradually lifted until I was truly stretched with my chin firmly in the grips of the padded neck hole.

It's clear that it was intended to be a challenging bondage position, and I definitely was not comfortable. I should have mentioned it to Mistress there and then, Maggie does not compromise on mercy when it counts, and a little adjustment would have made all the difference. But I was so eager to please Mistress that I ignored my nagging discomfort. It had also dawned on me that the stocks were now in a perfect position to act as a platform for Maggie to sit on, with her stockinged covered private parts only inches, or even millimetres from my pinioned mouth if she chose, and I selfishly did not want to miss out on an experience like that. So I said nothing.

Then out came the huge roll of playroom clingfilm, not on its own, Mistress was carrying it! A roll of that heavy weight industrial type that hisses as it leaves the roll. Maggie peeled off a three foot length but the wrap was not playing. It wafted up and instead of attaching round my head, attached itself firmly to Maggie's latex gloves. Unperturbed, off came the gloves, another piece hissed off the roll and this time 'take a deep breath slave’, a single layer was pulled tightly over my features and secured at the back. I was securely head wrapped. Mistress stood back, looked at her plasticised slave and smiled, I tried to reciprocate but my lips were now rendered immobile. Mistress moved her fingertips across the squeaky plastic before poking one of her sharp finger nails through my mouth covering. I was able to sit there as Maggie started to tease me once more, standing on the bench moving her hips tantalisingly close to my freed mouth, but the wall of the stocks maintained just that right, frustrating out of bounds distance to prevent me from accessing that tights covered area that a slave can only dream about.

Then it happened and oh what a useless, stupid slave I was. The legs cramped, hip joints started creaking and I had to beg release. Bother and damn, just when this was getting extremely interesting and another new experience about to be delivered. Maggie, attuned to her slaves wellbeing removed the stocks and told me to do what I had to do to make the cramp go away. I knew that I had spoiled what could have been a great scene, disappointed Mistress and boy had I disappointed myself!

Oh well, it was back to the tried and tested method for Maggie and out came the plastic bag. I must say, as I struggle for air, I can gaze at Mistress and know that she is enjoying herself. If I'm lucky I get the occasional brush of lips through the plastic, and I always try that little bit harder to last that little bit longer before begging for air.

Not to be denied more of her own fun, Maggie fitted me into the full rubber System mask with inflatable gag included. You may recall that last time, I managed 5 minutes before asking for release. This time, Maggie had cleverly modified the zip to give an extra centimetre or so to her mask, and it fitted like a glove. Snug, comfortable and those 5 minutes could easily be extended to 5 hours, it was that comfortable. However five hours was ruled out by Maggie attaching two nipple clamps with weights suspended over the gantry, I was once more forced to sit very erect and upright and Mistress appeared happy that her slave was going to experience some serious nippling.

Mistresses imagination really has no bounds as she tormented me, floating in and out of my limited vision, giving the weights a tug, or setting the suspension frame swaying as she stood on the low bench right in front of my goggled eyes taunting her slave. Maggie also occasionally used a feather on my now very sensitive nipples. Those innocuous little clamps were making their presence felt, I almost screamed as the feather gently caressed my over sensitive nips. I didn't though, as the gag reminded me to be silent and I had already created too much disappointment today.

Mistress then began adding breathing tubes to the front of my mask, the two corrugated tubes were carefully screwed into position, at their tip a small perforated dildo. That wasn't going to be used on me as I remained seated, but Maggie had somewhere suitable to put it and sensually lubed the little invader, then lubed herself and proceeded to frequently stop me breathing. The heady mix of pain, panting and pleasure went on for a while, as the little rubber pleasurer was gently nested right in front of her goggle eyed slave. Oh I do love that system mask and the results a little black rubber attachment can achieve on Mistress, in the right hands of course.

By this time, I was warming up inside the heavy suit, and once the system mask had been stripped away Mistress insisted that I would take her for a ride round her property, so things got even hotter. Maggie, thoughtful as ever, insisted I don a pair of Playroom knee pads, jumped on my back and 'encouraged' me to walk on. She kept on referring to me as Mr Ed and singing something along the lines of  'A horse is a horse of course, of course and no one can talk to a horse of course. . .'  Mistress does have an eclectic choice of songs in her repertoire! I know with my ample girth that Maggie's legs and thighs would stick out and when we arrived at doorways I was straining every sinew to make sure I didn't damage my very valuable rider. 

Four doorways, a walk round the upper floors of the estate and by the time we returned to the Playroom, I was gasping and grunting like Delaney's Donkey. Had I been a proper horse, a trip to the knackers yard would have been called for, as it was, Maggie reminded me what a useless slave I can be at times and ordered me to ‘dip’ so she could dismount gracefully.

I was then led through to the Clinic for a little 'help' with my recovery. I was fitted with another gas mask now and the ‘help' came in the form of an electro butt plug, my trusty black plug was eased out and the electro plug pushed in, all wired up to appropriately placed cock electrodes, the whole lot attached to Maggie's little black box and an appropriate rhythm programmed. There was a smile in Maggie's voice as she stood back to admire her handy work, then instructed me to carefully dismount from the couch and return to the Playroom.

This was another new experience. I have received e-stim and thoroughly enjoyed the stationary sensations but I have never experienced walking and moving around with a bipolar e-stim throbbing away between my legs. Mistress would carry the box and guide the wires, I just had to waddle through and make sure I didn't snag anything and constantly feed back to Mistress that 'Yes I am still receiiiiiiiving the signalllllllls!’

By now I was absolutely knackered. The nipple torture had affected me more than in the past and coupled with the physical exertions of being hung up, sat on, ridden round the establishment and now my cock and balls dancing to their own tune, I knew I was approaching my physical limits. Maggie knew this but also knew I was mentally still owned and ready for anything else she wished to do so long as it was a little less physical.

And altogether gentler it was and another change in the emotional status as she tucked me up in the big latex covered Playroom bed, limbs tethered with white rope to each corner. My electrics were still working as Maggie pulled her rubber gloves on, and her matching gasmask, and looking gorgeous in her rubber dress began slithering on top of her rubbered slave. An absolute treat for a rubber fetishist. If you look through my misted gas mask goggles you may be able to detect that inner peace that is achieved by a good physical and emotional workout. Had we had the time, I could have happily gone to sleep in the sure knowledge that I was safe in the hands of a friend and totally owned by the most exceptional Mistress.

When Mistress Maggie sent me the photos to accompany my blog she asked '. . . Truly though slave, I do hope that I didn’t totally wear you out on Friday. . .' . I was physically knackered, emotionally on a high and already ready to go back for more training, although I may need a couple more days for nipples to recover. Mistress I am yours to wear out as much as you want.