Oh, I'm an Alien

Oh, I'm an alien, 

I'm a legal alien 

I'm a Yorkshire man in... 

Mistress Maggie's Chambers in Preston.

I know it doesn't fit the Sting song but it was a helluva lot of fun being treated as an alien by Mistress and her attempts to return me to my homeland. All will become clear a little later, but to get today’s session started I needed to acquire a new skill set to help look after Maggie's needs.

Mistress prepared me for my training and a butt plug was quickly fitted, in fact that was a bit unusual as Maggie normally requires me to devote myself to shoe or boot worship before having me bend and receive the plug.

However, the command to worship her red shoes did follow and I was down on my knees once again, moving my tongue vigorously along their shiny leather uppers. The style of the shoes meant there was very little for me to clean, and so it was a relatively quick transition to climb into my working catsuit and be zipped inside a comfortable latex slave hood.

I am not normally required to wear my glasses, but on this occasion I was informed I would be undertaking a pedicure and would obviously need to see properly. With a little thought we decided to slide the temples of my glasses through the eye holes in my latex hood. With perfectly secure and well positioned glasses, Mistress guided me, my glasses and a manicure set towards the clinic.

Arranging herself on the couch Mistress slipped off her latex stockings and put her legs into the stirrups. Pedicuring her feet was pretty easy because Mistress does a fabulous job of looking after them, and I have had the privilege of doing her pedicure on a few occasions already and been trained to know what is required. A tiny bit of work with an emery board and once more they were beautifully smooth and Maggie was satisfied.

No problems there then, but painting my Mistresses toe nails - that did pose a problem, as I had never undertaken any nail painting ever. Mistress didn't help this poor slave one iota. The red paint was going on and I was progressing reasonably well on one leg, but when I started on the other, I raised her left leg into the other couch stirrup to be confronted with the most beautifully erotic sight ever.

Mistress was naked under her latex skirt and I was getting an eyeful of her perfect private parts, complete with delicate silver ring exactly in the centre of where a slave never goes. I soldiered on trying not to gaze at the most beautiful of mounds and, even though I say so myself, I did a passable paint job under extreme provocative circumstances.

Mistress wasn't finished teasing her devoted slave, with her painted toe nails still quite wet she tiptoed hurriedly towards the bathroom with me in tow, saying that she needed to pee I would serve as a suitable receptacle for her. Perched on the edge of the toilet bowl with my head back over the pan and mouth wide open, I patiently waited to receive a glorious infusion.

Mistress took her place and liquid began trickling into my mouth, and apart from a few initial drops landing on my chin, that’s where the majority fell. I was in such close proximity to that little silver ring, yet trained to know and concentrate on catching as much refreshment as possible and definitely avoid any physical contact.

With my thirst quenched and back in the playroom I was hung out to dry. Not really, but I did stand with hands clasping the overhead as Mistress wound several layers of cling film tightly round my torso and down to my knees, then lowering my arms to my side more layers of film were applied leaving my arms and hands firmly clamped down. I couldn't really see what use a pinioned slave would be to Mistress as she led me back to the clinic and carried on winding the clingfilm round me until my whole body was covered. Mistress took care positioning me down the centre of the couch, and as if I was not bound up enough already she then strapped me down.

Maggie whispered that I looked like an alien and to her amusement I said I was from planet Yorkshire.

I don't know why I said that apart from the fact that I am, but what followed was an impromptu role play whereby Nurse Maggie would help me return to my home world! I wasn't at all surprised when she indicated I was going to get a space helmet to help me on my journey, and I was soon enjoying breathing on the rarefied air inside an inflatable plastic hood. I was starting to warm to Mistresses little role play, mostly because it included getting loads of attention from my beautiful alien captor.

I have to admit that the sight of me wrapped in plastic with my plastic hood would do nothing to dissuade any impartial observers in planet Preston that Maggie, had, in fact captured an alien!

Mistress was intent on familiarising her alien with some words which are frequently used on Planet Preston while I waited to be reunited with my species. You try repeating the words rubber and latex correctly when your mouth is full of breathing tube. I did feel rather stupid as all I could manage was ‘lubber’ and ‘ratex’ before Mistress believed I needed more atmospheric exposure and fixed me inside a gas mask with aroma tube attached.

The elongated pump tube she was using meant that Maggie could dispense poppers from anywhere in the Clinic, and after several good lungfuls I was very, very relaxed and docile. That was a brilliant place to be in, because Maggie decided that we needed an antennae to help us communicate with Yorkshire and set about creating one, using my cock and balls as her construction base.

Snip, snip snip with her scissors and my cock sprang free from its plastic confines. With everything nicely sterilised, Maggie set about hooking lines to various bits. It was the least intrusive operation that I had experienced with Maggie. ‘After three slave , 1,2,3…’ Only a little prick with each hook that was inserted.

I couldn't help it, but as the first hook was pushed through my flesh I asked Mistress to stop for a moment and I think I orgasmed. Not explosive but more of a gentle, warm feeling. The feeling passed after a moment and I asked Mistress if she could possibly carry on, which she did. I put it down to the whole array of erotic experiences that had just gone, and in any event I felt fine and really couldn't miss the rest of this exciting journey.

More aromas, more piercings, eight in total and then Mistress played around with the positioning of the cords attached to the hooks, until she was happy that she had created a suitable aerial to help her alien to be located by his people.

By this stage all I felt was complete and utter dependence and devotion to my Mistress. I hardly felt any pain with the piercing and Maggie could have done whatever she wanted and I would still have been deliriously happy.

Mistress brought her electric box out, attached four electrodes to my outstretched genitals and flicked on the transmitter. With each subsequent, gradual increase in power I felt sufficiently relaxed to quip 'Almost there, Radio Cleveland coming … ‘, then with a further increase in power I could report ‘tuned to radio Whitby ...’, then after a few more ‘receiving radio Bridlington’ and as the dial slowly increased to level 25, I was screeching that ‘I can see Planet Yorkshire !!!!’ .

It was either that or pleading with my laughing Mistress that at that power I was literally about to take off!

I don't think the Yorkshire alien role play was planned, but once started Maggie improvised brilliantly and that in turn egged me on to become that alien character. It was only at level 25 when the aromas had been pushed to their limits that I had any doubts about where Maggie had taken us during this incredible session. The needle play, plastic and electro play were all planned but it was a real joy how the journey developed.

Maggie summed up the whole session brilliantly. ‘A mad but very enjoyable session.’

Thank you Mistress Maggie.

Carpet Burn

Before any of you think I have been indulging in the Urban Dictionary’s definition of ‘carpet burn’, perhaps I should enlighten you as to what really happened. I was invited into The Chambers by Mistress Maggie, and after admiring the red and white latex nurse uniform that she was sexily wearing we made our way to The Playroom, where I was sent to the bathroom to prepare for the session by returning in just my latex socks and gloves.

As usual, when I re-entered and took my place at the feet of my Mistress, there was a period of devotion and worship where I paid homage to the footwear of the day. In this case a rather nice pair of white leather knee boots. During our chatter Maggie mentioned that she had needed to undo a seam and redo the boots to make them a slimmer fit. (What a talented lady my Mistress is.)

An incredibly sensual flogging

Anyway, back to the carpet burn which can only have been caused by friction as I spun around on Maggie’s oriental rug with great gusto, searching for any uncleaned corners and predominantly kissing the boots as instructed in my haste to please. At the time it didn't register that I would need to comment about carpet burn, but I have spent quite a few days nursing it now and mentally reliving the events of day. Incidentally, the Urban Dictionary’s explanation of a carpet burn is strictly forbidden in Maggie’s Chambers!

Maggie fitted me into a very comfortable gas mask, attached the aroma delivery hose then sealed the whole lot in place with an open latex face hood, a few pumps later and I was floating away while Maggie gloved up and inserted four fingers up my bum. After that, insertion of my plug was very easy and would be kept in place once I was sealed in my thick latex catsuit.

That thick latex suit effectively deadened the blows from Mistresses new flogger as she handcuffed one of my hands to her throne, and not for the first time, she began swinging her whip, giving me another of her thorough sensual floggings.

The regular doses of aromas I was receiving had me buzzing, I felt a natural need to dance and stick out my backside to encourage Mistress to flog me harder. There is something surreal about Mistress very sexily moving to the music and having her whip tails sliding over my latex body, landing on my back and whipping my ass. I know Maggie was giving a light flogging but even the sound of the thwacks against the taught rubber across my buttocks, balls and cock was mind blowingly exciting. Although Maggie had deliberately left my right hand free so I could pump aromas if I wanted, I preferred not to do so, as I was overdosing already with the high I was feeling from the flogging.

A tug on the chain certainly gets a slaves attention

As we continued our dancing Mistress took charge of my air intake, heightening the tension each time she placed my breathing tube against her stunning breasts and depriving me of air for short periods. Maggie was laughing and it is reputed that I danced far better after those temporary breathtaking moments.

As much as I did not want our dance to end, it did, and Mistress went on to change my gas mask for a more regular latex number. It was important to Mistress that her chosen mask had suitable nose holes and I soon found out the reason why when a nose chain was screwed onto me. Note: make sure it is high inside the nose otherwise you will be in severe discomfort.

Once her slave was firmly secured by the nose I was led through to the Clinic for further pleasures. With an order for me to kneel, Maggie made herself comfortable on the couch and placed her legs in the stirrups. I was then instructed to remove her boots and replace them with a glossy thigh high pair with striking platform heels. I have attended to Mistress’ footwear before and remembered to line her foot up with the boot and gently push on the heel to ease it in place.

Pulling on the chain and guiding my nose towards her long white boots Mistress told me to begin worship. ‘Boots only slave’. I needed all of my slave training and the pull on the nose chain to help me concentrate on my task rather than Maggie’s exposed private parts. That really was a trial for a red blooded slave, but I have been well trained and only needed one sharp word accompanied by a torturous tug on the nose chain to bring me back in line.

Next came a little plastic play. Well perhaps more than just a little; it was my turn to be supine on the couch. Breathing through plastic with all my limbs confined in plastic splints I was strapped down for the remainder. Finally the contents of the calling email I’d received from Mistress made absolute sense -

‘Your rubber nurse will be getting you hooked on worship and floating on air, in the best possible rubber way’.

The plastic hood is incredibly comfortable to wear. I could breathe easily and thankfully I could still gaze at my incredibly attractive nurse as she prepared for the next phase of my training.

During a recent session Mistress had been disappointed that she'd been unable to continue stretching my asshole, mainly because my ass was just not up to it that day, but  promised ,’it can wait until another day’. Maggie had indicated earlier in this session that she intended to get a whole hand inside me by the end of the session. To help relax and sedate her patient my nurse prescribed more aromas. Amazingly the anaesthetic mask fitted perfectly over the plastic hood, tightening the plastic over my mouth and allowing virtually unhindered breathing whenever my medicine was being given.

Maggie whispered that the time was right to get a whole hand inserted inside me, then with her mischievous laugh announced that I would be playing party to her latest experiment. She explained how she would be fitting a latex glove up my bum before filling it up with an appropriate amount of her piss, describing how it might feel as the fingers begin to inflate, tenderly tickling my innards in the process. Oh, I do love to have Mistress experiment with me in this way and expected slight changes to her arrangement before she was completely satisfied.

An anal plug was inserted inside the glove to aid insertion before being sealed, then a syphon system was used to inject the fluids which could be heard filling a jug right next to my plastic covered ear!. The jug, filled with a large potion of her warm pee, was immediately delivered to my rear end where Mistress proceeded to syphon her invention up my backside.

There were a few moments of damning and blasting when a leak was identified, but the problem was soon fixed and the glove was filling up nicely. It was a wonderful sensation having my bum inflated with warm nectar, slopping about inside me with each squeeze of her rubber hand pump, and eventually around 750ml was successfully inserted into the glove.

I feel really privileged that Mistress was able to use her own fluids to fill up my arsehole, but every really good experience comes to an end and quite a hilarious one on this occasion. After a couple more pumps the pressure of the inflated glove became too much and the glove and plug combination eased its way out of my ass one finger at at time, giving Maggie one helluva surprise!

The imagination and inventiveness of my Mistress appears to have no bounds, and as the glove slipped out I think Mistress Maggie was satisfied that her experiment had worked very well. Her slave had finally accepted a hand up the backside, giving me hope that it won’t be too long before I can actually accept Maggie's hand deep inside me.

My dear old nipples were also on the clinic agenda and as part of my nipple training it was necessary for my rubber nurse to apply suction to them. I have been trying to train my nipples myself between sessions, to make them more accessible for my Mistress. I think I may have made some good progress because Maggie did comment that they were both more prominent, but caught me totally unaware as she leant forward and bit my left one because it was still misbehaving. I was so surprised that I jumped, not due to the sensation of having Mistress nibble a nipple, call me a masochist but that was actually very pleasant, but by the sheer suddenness of the punishment it received.

I think I had pleased my Mistress today because as a finale I was allowed some time with her sounds. It was a glass one that slipped down my cock first followed by an eagerly accepted fancy urethral dilator.

I'd spent quite a lot of time fully hooded in one way or another and loved every minute of the experiences, in fact Mistress could hood me for the whole session in these ways and I would love it.

Of course, the only time my eyes were unglazed I had a real intimate view of Mistress Maggie's most private parts, but any slave knows 'look but don't touch’. In reality, because of the tension on the nose chain I got very little opportunity to look and actually concentrated on cleaning her boots while trying to sneak a peak at my beautiful Mistress.

And what about that carpet burn? - Well everything is fine now, though it took a good week to heal up. I find it most strange that I never noticed it at the time, but I think once or twice Maggie has referred to it as her magic carpet!

Time in the Twilight Zone

Entering the Chambers from the bright autumnal afternoon sunshine it takes a short period of time before your eyes become accustomed to the subdued ambient light. Behind the porch way lies a quiet area where mysterious objects are hanging silently on their pegs, creating an almost surreal atmosphere that gives the Chambers the feeling of a Twilight Zone. That strange, noiseless, wonderful world of latex, plastic and leather garments, punctuated by the occasional squeak or rustle as you disturb their thoughts and slumber, draws you deeper under their spell. The low light reflects from the sentinels, and I think I can be forgiven for temporarily believing that Mistress Maggie was once more fully attired in her stunning, form fitting, latex catsuit.

As my eyes became more accustomed to the half light I began to see that what I thought was full latex, was actually Mistresses latex leotard on top of the most stunning, almost opaque black tights. I momentarily stopped to gaze at my Mistresses beautiful image that was now more clearly defined in the brighter lights of the stairway, and must have stammered out a question about her striking combination of garments because she stopped halfway up the stair, turned and smiled to acknowledge my confusion, and with an almost imperceptible nod agreed to my request to get closer to her perfectly formed derrière. The latex gloves that I arrived wearing glided smoothly and seamlessly between the two materials and the effect was truly amazing.

I was only permitted the briefest of encounters before Mistress resumed her sensuous glide to the Playroom, where I was briefed and instructed to deposit my red catsuit on the bed to get warm. Dispatched to the bathroom I was told to return as quickly as I could, attired in my collar, red latex stockings and red latex gloves. I knelt before my Mistress. Maggie’s boots were long, black and shiny with laces up the front. This time I avoided kissing the laces as I worshipped and paid homage to my owners footwear, I even managed a quick nuzzle of those remarkable tights with the tip of my nose, nothing more, but that briefest of contact confirmed these were indeed similar in texture to latex.

We briefly tried a new larger butt plug that Mistress retrieved with a flurry from behind the curtains, it went in OK but either the shape of my arse or that of the plug resulted in it gradually sliding outwards. It just wouldn't stay in place. Mistress knew it would just pop out and, although a harness might retain the little bugger, she said her preference was for an alternative to be chosen. So for the time being at least, my trusty red butt plug continues to reside in the darkest depths of my arsehole.

A hood was to be fitted and I was instructed to kneel between Maggie's legs, putting me in very close proximity of her glossy covered thighs. As the fitting proceeded, I was able to exercise my latex gloved hands a little to confirm that earlier magical feeling of those special thighs. My hood for a while would be a black pull on number with perforated eyes and mouth openings. Being a pull-on hood, we exercised caution when fitting me into my new skin, latex can tear easily if handled badly, as we both knew only too well from previous experiences and so I remained quite still as Maggie gently eased it in place.

That strange phenomena of the eye perforations once more returned me to thoughts of the Twilight Zone. I could gaze at my Mistress but the vision was much as I imagine an insect would see, clear but pixillated. Which turned out to be a most appropriate analogy as Maggie ensnared me lengthwise on the horse with her web of leather straps.

Mistress came round into my restricted vision and said I was to be stretched, and that one of her larger strap on dildos would do nicely. Once again as Mistress presented her massive toy for my inspection, the restricted view through the little perforations distorted what I was seeing and I had to move my head to take in the full extent of what was about to invade my backside. More lube and I lost sight as Maggie lined up the pole with the hole. Once again Mistress showed her caring side as she gently eased the tip of the invader into its target. She needn't have worried. With virtually no resistance, first the tip then the first inch or so then the whole lot was slowly sliding in, up to the hilt. I eagerly thrust backwards to accept as much as Maggie could give her slave and Maggie spared no time in reciprocating.

I really was disappointed when Maggie finally pulled out and re-instated my red butt plug in the vacant hole, I hope she got as much pleasure from my good f***ing as I did. There were more pleasures to follow in today's curriculum and after a few moments rest for both of us and time to remove the strap on, Maggie positioned me underneath the ceiling ring and started to red wrap my upper body with film, arms by my side but hands free next to my thighs. I thought nothing of this minor freedom and suspected that Mistress would naturally complete the full wrap later.

However, Maggie put her clingfilm down and instead I got a couple of strange add ons; a couple of winds of red gaffer tape around my torso to keep everything nice and snug and a leather muzzle. I thought that was a gag but strangely it had only very limited gagging effect. Oh well, Mistress always has a good plan and a reason for everything and I would just have to wait and see where we were going. Maggie knows I love her latex bed and so I was placed down the centre of it, and with my legs hitched up to the ceiling with rope the clingfilm came out again and bound my legs together. My situation just got better and better as I discovered that the muzzle made a most effective anchorage for head chains and my feet were immobilised with similar chains to the base of the bed. I could have quite happily been left there in bondage for hours, so comfortable that I am certain sleep could have enveloped this very happy latex slave. Until of course I felt activity around my groin.

More tape was being pulled from the roll of gaffer tape and then the vibrations started. Mistress knew I had been celibate for a while and was about to prove that she does own every one of my emotions. Maggie left me to it, the only option available to me was to writhe in my pleasurable predicament, the vibrator was taped to me and the powerful vibrations just kept coming. I tried hard to resist, not sure if she wanted me to cum or whether I would be punished, but eventually I lost all control and ejaculated inside my latex catsuit. It appeared to be exactly what Maggie wanted. She wasn't annoyed, in fact she patted my groin, sexily saying, ‘Good boy, it’s been quite a while hasn’t it?’. Opening my zip she cleaned away the mess and disposed of her soiled gloves, as she donned another pair she announced, ‘First the pleasure, now the pain’. That has a most salutary effect on post orgasmic pleasure!

Maggie's safety scissors cut away the cling film bindings and I was encouraged to stretch out on the bed. In other times that would have been a luxurious experience but this time I was being spread-eagled and destined for some post orgasm torture. Chained securely to the corners I was to wear the tusk mask to facilitate aroma delivery. An oxballs cock cage device was attached and alarmingly Mistress suggested that next time a cable tie might make it more permanent! The final bits to be captured were my, by now, somewhat depleted balls, and Maggie had to engage the assistance of one of her cut down pairs of tights to gather them up and neatly secure the leather ball harness in its operational position.

The pain starts as the wheel of the stretcher is turned a few revolutions. It is definitely not like the pain of electrics which can be short sharp and immediate. This is the aching pain which starts in the root of your cock as the scrotum is stretched. At first it is quite pleasant as the most beautiful woman fondles your manhood, checking out how taut your balls are becoming and making sure the harness is in the right position for an even pull, then it turns to acceptance of the ache because that’s what her unyielding wooden ball stretcher was designed for and that is what Mistress wants.

An amusing diversion occurred when my balls, now much reduced in size following my earlier enforced ejaculation, managed to free themselves from their captivity. All in her stride, Maggie just retied the fastening even tighter, adjusted the attachments and was happy to begin the whole procedure again and successfully complete the exercises she had prescribed.

Yes, I've enjoyed this expansion in the past, but then we moved into new heights of ache as the handle was turned and turned again. I slightly bent my knees within the tight confines of the knee straps and tight chains, that provided a small amount of relief but only until Mistress made another turn of the wheel. That took me right to the edge of the ache. Once your knees are bent you daren't adjust your position on the bed again, because if they were to straighten during the move I’d really be fearing for the welfare of Mistresses balls! So endure I did. Mistress had taken us much further along the stretching routine than on previous occasions, I know that because for the first time, as I breathed in and my chest rose slightly with the inhalation the ache in my balls intensified. A bit of a dilemma, breathe or contain the ache? I settled for taking as shallow breaths as I could survive, and drifted towards dreams of my perfect owner Mistress Maggie, and how far we have travelled.

My thoughts returned to my initial experience in the hallway and the Twilight Zone. There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone and Maggie takes me there every time we meet.

One of my Balls is Missing!

It may at first appear to be an exciting resume of a part-castration. Well, nothing quite as painful or permanent as that and I must admit to being quite attached to these balls. However, this is the only activity that I was fairly certain would happen because Mistress Maggie had been particularly vague about session plans in the call up mail.

‘. . . Session plans are still being prepared. You have my permission to remain on tenterhooks. . . ‘

Maggie knows the psyche of this slave well, of course she would, I have been fortunate enough to serve now for seven years this month so the sesquicentennial celebrations last session weren't the only milestone to celebrate, and the idea that I would be 'on tenterhooks' I think would bring a wry smile across those beautiful lips.

Had it not been for my missing ball I would have entitled this blog - The longest five minutes. Sitting in the car, on tenterhooks, watching the clock click over from 14:20 to 21 to 22 ... then finally to 14:25 when I know I am on my way to another meeting with the most stunningly attractive person I could ever dream of,  let alone the privilege of serving her. Those five minutes are like an eternity. Go too early and you dawdle outside or get a telling off for being early. Go too late and you risk a telling off for being late so the only solution is arrive exactly on time, which I once again managed.

Mistress was in her stunning black latex outfit, covered from neck to boot in that wonderful material, except that on top of her lower body were a pair of thick, clear plastic pants. Their shine contrasting quite dramatically with the  sheen of the polished rubber. Whichever way you look at it Mistress was stunning and as we climbed the stairs to The Playroom I noticed a new pair of shiny boots with some very attractive brass pyramid studs down the outside. I knew I would be intimately acquainted with them shortly, which indeed I was. Slightly lower but still substantial heels, knee high, black and very pleasant to worship.

Ah! That missing ball. A few days earlier, one of the red balls that keeps my guiche piercing in place dropped off. I have no idea where or when but the first I knew of the problem was when my guiche, minus a ball, dropped down the inside of my trouser leg and clattering onto the tiles. Fortunately no one was round to hear but unfortunately, the red retaining ball had vanished. I ordered a couple of spares (just in case another ball goes walkies) and they arrived in good time for me to bring them to session. Maggie carefully replaced my temporary repair with the genuine article. At 6mm, the new one is 1mm larger than the previous bar, but Mistress was pleased with the larger replacement and it was easily inserted then both balls secured tightly to reduce the risk of further loss. (Note to self - tighten balls daily in future!)

In no time, Mistress had me and my new jewellery strapped across the horse. A bit gag was fitted and stout rope reins attached to the bridle and, as you might expect the cold glass dildo Mistress had donned during worship was soon warming as she yanked on the reins. I prefer to be called Jo rather than Dobbin, but my new temporary name seemed to amuse Maggie and I was rode like a horse until she was satisfied that my rear entry had taken the stretching it needed, ready for another attempt at retrieving the object 'hidden' in that dark place. After that my own butt plug went in easily to do its job of keeping me stretched.

On with my heavyweight latex catsuit first, then I was told to lie down on the carpet where my wrists were roped to my ankles, because Mistress was determined to have more fun riding her slave and educating me on how much I should like plastic. My face was the saddle, my nose was the pummel and of course my Mistress in her squeaky plastic breeches the rider.

Judging by that wonderful smile radiating from Maggie, I am starting to re-evaluate my material preferences, if face sitting in plastic pleases my owner so much perhaps I do like plastic rather than rubber. However, I would like to point out that despite all that delightful face full of plastic, Mistress is wearing latex underneath. The plastic pants weren't quite as pliable as other plastic Mistress has seen fit to smother me with, and despite the wonderful feeling of breath restriction I was able to wriggle and squirm to obtain a bit of air. Maybe it was that wriggling and squirming that put that wonderful smile into Maggie?

Mistress is truly imaginative and inventive in the apparatus she uses on her slaves. Even though I had moved a silver box off the horse when I had moved it to its riding position, I had no inkling what it was or what it would be used for. It is not in my remit to question such things, so I just moved it and forgot about it. Well, I was about to find out what its intended purpose was, but first I was to be intimately introduced to a new mask that I had read about in Mistresses Tweets.

Mistress has designed her eye mask well, and trivial as this may sound, having long eyelashes sometimes gives me problems opening and closing my eyelids, especially really tight hoods. Not so with this eye mask, it allowed  unrestricted eye movement and through its perspex lenses I could see everything most clearly. Hmmm! Perhaps there is something to be said about keeping eyes tight shut!

Back to the silver box. I was seated comfortably on the Playrooms folding chair, directly inside the confines of the lowered gantry. Mistress gathered some rope and started to tie me to the chair, her knots very secure in a way to keep me immobile and my head was immobilised too, in the grips of her heavy stocks. Maggie paid particular attention to fixing the right levels and angles of the supporting gantry, sufficient to make her slave static but comfortably contained. I couldn't move my head at all but of course, I could move my eyes behind the perspex lenses.

WARNING: This 45 second clip has audio

The last time Mistress had attempted to insert me into her 'standard' head box, my head was too big and we simply couldn't fit me in. This time, Maggie had crafted this from a cardboard box, maybe as a template for a future project (I suspect I shouldn't have said that) but the box fitted well. The inside of her box and lid as well were lined with a very thick layer of plastic bubble wrap. Yes, Maggie was on a mission to plasticize me.

When Mistress closed the lid, it was an effective face pad of slithery, breathtaking plastic. There was sufficient free play to breathe after a fashion and because of the eye guard I was able to look round inside the box. Although not completely dark, all I could see and taste at very close quarters was plastic, plastic and more plastic all accompanied by a nice plastic bouquet. As I said, Mistress is most inventive and what is worrying is what a box made of more substantial material would feel like with my head rigidly held inside and in total darkness.  As a prototype and proof of concept it was breathtakingly successful. As a blue print for the future, well . . .

You may also notice as I certainly did from inside my box, that Maggie had very thoughtfully placed a buzzing vibrator inside my roped hands. Mistress knows that a little bit of breath restriction, a little bit of bondage and latex, a little bit of vibration and of course a face full of plastic can play havoc with my self control. But Mistress is in charge and she navigated her slave all the way 'to the edge' but, just a moment before, the vibrator was silenced. I’m not sure if Mistress allowed my head box an orgasm, but as soon as she had finished with me she diverted her vibrator and teasing attentions to the box and it was making an awful lot of noise, that is all I can say. My whole world was reverberating with the sound the vibrations were making, nothing but buzz buzz, bloody buzz!

I should also add that my self control was further tested by Mistress getting up close and personal inside the confines of the suspension frame. With the box lid open I could clearly see Mistress through the perspex, doing the most lewd gestures with her plastic pants only a few inches away from my captive face. Oh what a slave has to put up with, but I have to admit my liking of all things plastic had been rekindled by my rather wonderful Mistress.

Note the 7 brass studs in Maggie's new boots

Medication to help me appreciate my plastic environment was not forsaken either, sitting on the shelf by my right shoulder was a little bottle of aroma that Mistress kept offering to me. Another unconventional delivery; bottle straight up my nostril, other nostril blocked and told to 'breathe deeply slave'. That hit the spot!

Maggie, determined to continue my re-acclimatisation, retrieved and fitted me into the larger of the two green hazmat suits that we have both enjoyed wearing in the past. This time it was only me that was to be isolated and still wearing my rubber suit I was quickly sealed inside it and ordered onto the bed. Mistress set her electric air-pump to ‘suck’ mode and attempted to shrinkwrap me by removing all the air from within the hazmat suit.

That was one of the few ideas that didn't work. Not for want of trying, but the zip fastener didn't readily allow a sufficient seal around the pump nozzle, leading to an air of frustration, as more air seemed to be going in than being removed. ‘OK. Let’s forget about that idea,’ said Mistress and she just tidied the pump away.

The zip was pulled up fully sealing me inside the airtight suit. It was remarkable how little spare air there was inside the sealed suit and very soon I was begging hard for a welcome influx of clean fresh air. No matter, Maggie has other methods of leaving her slave breathless and promptly laid full length on my by now spread-eagled position on the latex bed.

To bring another excellent session to a close, Maggie treated her slave to a wonderful golden shower but delivered in a most unorthodox and unexpected way. Already sealed in two layers of rubber and hazmat plastic I was now being instructed to climb into a large slightly opaque plastic bag. I was given a gas mask and hose and once the opening had been knotted to keep me in my greenhouse environment, only the end of the hose was visible to the outside world and aroma vapour was being pumped into my mask.

Maggie directed short bursts of her warm shower over various parts of my plastic covered body. I could feel that lovely warm feeling as Maggie pee'd on my face, my body, my groin and anywhere else she could direct the stream, and I was again very frustrated at all that lovely nectar bouncing off my well protected body and gathering in a large pool on the protective sheet Maggie had wisely laid on the floor. It’s a good job that Mistress has a large safety sheet because it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

The poppers delivery pipe we used was designed and created by Maggie’s husband John and is a remarkable piece of kit.

For a final, rather nice touch to bring our seventh year to a fitting climax and move forwards into year eight, Mistress peeled back the plastic as far as my shoulders and released me from my mask. Looking straight into my eyes Mistress told me to open my mouth, after the downpour I would not have believed there was anything left, but standing over my eager mouth she let out a stream of her nectar and her slaves thirst was quenched.

Was I allowed to climax. No.

Was I bothered? No. More importantly, I think Mistress had an enjoyable 7th birthday' session.

Was I converted to a plastic pervert? No not really. I already enjoy all the materials, including plastic, that Mistress Maggie allows me to experience and no matter how much plastic I was exposed to I still had my rubber clad Mistress, my rubber suit and my rubber hood and my rubber eye mask and my rubber gas mask and . . .

I think my Mistress knows, I am addicted to her and anything else is just a secondary bonus.

Next Time . . .

Next time Mistress Maggie presents such an exciting and scary opportunity I hope I am able to grasp it with both hands; metaphorically grasp it, as will become apparent later in my report. But to start with I was greeted by my Mistress in a fantastic diaphanous latex outfit, teamed with a most prominent glass dildo which was twinkling in my direction. Beneath the clear invader were the long, very long white boots that climb all the way up those statuesque legs, almost, but not quite, to the base of her glass sparkler.

It was my birthday so I had decided to bring a surprise to the party; finally plucking up the courage to wear my latex clothes with no covering coat this time, I made my way to the Chambers. The day was warm, and despite very heavy traffic and one or two passing pedestrians no one appeared interested in a happy chappy with a slave collar sauntering down the road like a rubber pervert, carrying my session bag and a big smile. I really needn’t have been worried, though I probably won’t repeat such a show as I think Maggie may have been a little concerned about attracting attention on her doorstep. Even so my surprise made her smile and she had a good feel at my warm latex.

I always get that familiar buzz as I follow the most beautiful derrière up the stairs to The Playroom. Today Maggie’s bottom was framed by the neat rows of ruffles that embellished her skimpy rubber shorts. Once upstairs I was told to remove my latex, the only item of rubber I was allowed were my knee length stockings, nothing else. Not the catsuit or even the gloves, although I was temporarily allowed to keep my shirt. Why? - because Maggie declared that today was going to be plastic fantastic.

I used to be drawn primarily to latex until Mistress helped me realise that it is her that is the aphrodisiac and not the material, though I must admit to still having a preference for Mistress in all her various latex garments.

Maggie attempted a new method of footwear worship, seated down in front of her throne I was instructed to shuffle backwards into the V of her legs. What a start! With the warmth of my Mistress in the nape of my neck, stroking my hair in a wonderful manner, I could have relaxed there all day. The only drawback was that with Maggie's thighs clamped round her slave I was unable to turn my head far enough to do justice to my position. Unfortunately the delight had to end all too quickly and I was instructed to move to the more conventional position and to proceed with the boot worship, which I duly attended to as my Mistress wished.

Kneeling upright again, I barely had time to lick my lips before the sound of crinkling plastic came from a freshly opened bag and my head was soon enclosed inside. There is nothing like a good bagging to make you feel glad to be alive, and I had the added bonus of being able to gaze adoringly at my captor with her sparkling glass dildo, which seemed to have forgotten which bit of anatomy it was intended for and took the liberty of poking me in the eye!

More plastic, this time containing a small celebratory birthday tipple poured from a rather nice bottle of red. We then relaxed with a toast and enjoyed the wine. I have had 6 birthdays now in the company of my Mistress; that is 6 years where I have really felt alive and I wished for the next 6 years in heaven and the next 6 . . .

Maggie roped me to the horse very lightly and mounted me with the glass dildo, gently inserted and accompanied with a soft whisper of ‘happy birthday slave’ I was being ridden to heaven. There was no necessity for the ropes, I would willingly have remained prone, but I do feel more owned by Mistress when I am wearing restraints, particularly whilst being mounted. Most enjoyable.

Feeling a little underdressed in only my birthday suit and latex stockings we adjourned to the White Room, where the room had already been prepared for the plastic fantastic. Spread out on the couch was the thick plastic body bag that I have lovingly occupied in the past, and that very nice clear plastic hood with the two breathing holes.

Once comfortably fitted and secured inside the hood I climbed aboard and was sealed and strapped into my new home for the rest of the afternoon. I love that hood. It restricts breathing but allows sufficient air supply, every breath is worth it if only for its distinctive plastic bouquet, more importantly I get a very clear vision of my Mistress as she moves around the Clinic preparing my next pleasurable experience.

Mistress set up a breathing circuit for her patient and held an anaesthetic mask over my mouth, the aroma accompanied by sweet verbal encouragement from Maggie sent me into a deep relaxed state. She removed my butt plug replacing it with a Bardex enema pump . . . Ah, an enema was coming my way. ‘Are you allergic to peppermint slave?’ she asked and I confirmed that I wasn’t. Mistress then mixed up a solution and filled up a huge syringe making sure that its contents were infused right where the sun don’t shine.

I was feeling quite warm and grateful of the peppermint’s cooling properties, a little of the cordial had trickled down my cheeks and collected in a cool pool at the base of my spine. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere in the watertight plastic body bag and the liquid soon warmed as my treatments progressed.

I could have stayed all afternoon like that; breathing in and out carefully and gazing at my beautiful Mistress as she liberally applied cocoa butter on all of her slaves available body parts, rubbing it in with her warm hands. Maggie zipped up the bodybag to seal everything in, flicked the room heater up to high and started playing her industrial strength hair dryer all over my plastic covered torso. Today had just climbed quite a few degrees warmer.

Encouraged by the results of the warming on her subject, Maggie began to stir the mix with her violet wand, making sparks jump from my saturated skin. I think other forms of electrical 'enjoyment' for her simmering pot were considered but she opted for the wand as a simple, safe, sensible and sane way of bringing her slave closer to the boil.

Unfortunately, I had to lose the plastic hood because the aroma mask and breathing holes just wouldn't play together, so staying with the plastic theme Maggie simply bound my head with clear plastic bondage tape with a loose flap across the mouth. Now that worked a treat and it allowed comfortable use of the anaesthetic mask while administering gradual doses of aroma. The mask was obviously attached to a rebreather bag because when Maggie told me to ‘take deep breaths slave’ I could hear the breathy noises as I breathed deeply.

So long as you breath in and out quite slowly, the rebreather allows sufficient air to keep you going indefinitely, yet it is torture of the most delicious kind. You have to concentrate on breathing while Mistress goes about her other tasks that certainly do not aid concentration. Maggie has trained her slave well and I had no problem maintaining a steady rhythm despite more heat, more massaging and more peppermint.

Mistress covered me up in an extra layer of green plastic now and began heating it up with her hairdryer. By now I’d had another two huge syringe fulls of the peppermint enema and the aromas were having a wonderfully calming and relaxing effect. I realised then what Mistress meant in her somewhat ambiguous calling email - 'I thought I might take you for a swim for your birthday. Your rubber Mistress will be keeping an eye on you as you float away and manage the extra water at the deep end.' 

Despite the continuous efforts to really heat me up, with a combination of the cooling peppermint, soothing body butter and relaxing aromas, I felt absolutely wonderful. Too lazy to actually swim anywhere, but more than happy to float in all the juices.

Operation time, and I really didn't feel the staples being punched into my groin area. I wont say cock and balls because by the time my Mistress had finished with them they had ceased to exist.

Picking up another syringe she injected a good dose of lubricating jelly behind the staples and into the operation area. Mistress was dissatisfied with her stapler, it had only dispensed a few staples before it went faulty, she was genuinely disappointed and threatened to send it back. I know that when they work properly she finds a stapler far more user friendly than the sutures she previously used.

Oh well, that's progress and Maggie likes to keep abreast of all new methods of entertaining her slaves. Speaking of which, Maggie did stand very close and began stroking my pinioned cock, baring those wonderful breasts to taunt me with their beauty. That really was torture. How do you normally react when such a wonderful vista is presented? I am a hot blooded male and I would normally start to get an erection. Erection with what and where was it going? So I tried my hardest to look, admire and stay comfortable within the staples.

As we were coming to a close Maggie asked if I wanted to remove the staples myself. Imagine, making my way home wearing my nice tight pair of latex briefs covering what used to be my manhood. That thought is so exciting yet so disconcerting. Would it hurt once the aroma had worn off? What would happen when I received the photos with the staples still in situ? How do I pee? Would I be able to walk and drive home because I didn't fancy having to remove the staple half way home! I opted for the cowards way out and asked Mistress to remove them. At the time, that was a good move with no pain or discomfort, but I am seriously contemplating a different decision next time Mistress Maggie staples up her cock and balls. Next time. . . .

Lassos Everywhere

Mistress Maggie has certainly been interested in dealing with bottoms these last few weeks, two weeks ago when I visited her my bum received an almighty beating for my misconduct. Today when Mistress opened the door to her Chambers it immediately looked like my bum would be receiving more of her attentions, the big clue came in the form of the strap-on dildo that heaved and smiled as I entered the Chambers.

Mistress did continue to concentrate on my bum area but without the painful consequences. I was restrained on the Clinic couch with my bum raised to the perfect height and inclination for Mistress to lube up my private space without any fuss. Her rather large dildo which had done nothing but wave at me since I arrived was then slipped inside me as Mistress proceeded to mount her slave achieving a flawless entry.

The dildo had looked pretty big when I’d been worshipping Maggie's shoes, but I must have had an equally big lust for being mounted, because the huge rod slid in with ease and kept sliding in further; gently but firmly until our bodies met. I really enjoyed being taken this way and in fact I almost enjoyed it too much as Maggie gently massaged my cock as the dildo thrust in and out.

Satisfied that my bum had been reacquainted with her sizeable toy, out came the dildo to be replaced by an inflatable one. Mistress threatened 10 pumps, but if I'm being honest I could have taken quite a few more bulb squeezes, I was feeling so good at the time. (Another comment that no doubt will come home to roost!).

I think Mistress has been watching too many John Wayne movies judging by the number of lassos she deployed on my cock and balls. One round each ball and attached to the couch extension. One round the base of my cock pulling in one direction then another and another, all stretched tightly and pulling in every way Maggie could manage. Count them. Eight are visible!

Of course from where I was sitting I couldn’t see the results of Mistress’ lassoing, but I did feel like a steer at a rodeo as I lay rock still knowing that any movement in any direction could have 'surprising' consequences.

Now that I have had chance to view my predicament, Maggie's attention to detail is clear. There is a symmetry about the cock and ball bonds that only a true expert can achieve. Even the alignment of the picture was perfect; red butt plug, red jewels of my lovely guiche and the taught diagonals of my confining ropes make a striking picture of a slave pleasing his Mistress, and I of course was very happy with the situation. What self respecting slave wouldn't be?

Maggie had completed her planned cock and ball tethering, but in one of those spontaneous moments her voice lit up and she asked. 'Do you fancy a sound slave?' A question that didn’t need any thought and I almost shouted my approval.

Maggie disappeared and returned after a short while with a freshly sterilised sound. 'It's a larger sized one that you've worn before slave'. Before I knew it and for the second time today, her desired object was greased up and without any resistance began sliding deep inside me. It felt so good and I do love it when my Mistress invades yet another of my private areas. Well, in reality, all areas are her private areas and she is free to invade wherever she wants.

The picture does provide an enlightening view of the detachable 'goal posts' that Maggie was using to hang, draw and quarter my most sensitive of areas.

And this, of course, is a picture of my perfect Mistress complete with dildo. By this time the lassos had been removed and we had returned to the Playroom ready for the final scenario of today's session. She was demonstrating how comfortable her Playroom chair was before a completely rubber covered and very appreciative slave took up semi-permanent residence on it.

The chair was repositioned underneath the central Playroom gantry and I replaced Mistress as incumbent of the chair. Maggie enclosed my head in one of her a soft nylon stockings, then beginning with my head and working downwards my total bondage encounter commenced, involving copious quantities of cling film, several stout leather straps to suspend my legs and feet, some bright yellow gaffer tape to add a little colour, a most effective and comfortable rubber gag and as a very nice finishing touch, a posture collar was secured round my neck at maximum tightness.

If you are on Flickr there is some video footage of my chair bondage HERE but may not be available on all devices.

Mistress spent some time simply putting on her long latex gloves whilst sitting on my lap. The background mood music was eerie yet strangely sensual and my Mistress continued to move like a slithery serpent all round and over her slave. That most erotic of movements could only be reciprocated by the slightest of movement and the faintest of grunts from her very keen slave, such was the designs of her bondage, the restrictions of the cling film meant I couldn't even stroke my cock and balls as Mistress Maggie had ensured my hands were firmly secured to prevent movement. An altogether surreal bondage event that I would never have dreamt being part of when I rose out of bed that morning.

I know, I am a really lucky slave.

Flight 121 Departing Shortly

Flight 121 will be departing shortly from Chambers Airport, but Health and Safety requires that all passengers who have not previously flown using MM airways, are to report to The Playroom training area where extensive pre-flight health checks and training are to be undertaken. Passengers will receive acclimatisation to help prevent high-altitude nausea, a little something to calm those nervous of flying, advice on what to do in the unlikely event of having to evacuate over land, and how to survive if the flight comes down over water. Your pilot and trainer for today's flight is a most experienced aviator who comes highly recommended by all those who have flown with her: Meet our pilot Mistress Maggie.

And so it began. Mistress Maggie, Pilot in Chief (PiC), Head of Training (HoT), Chief Medical Officer (CMO) being but a few of her many official titles, personally greets all her passengers in the foyer of The Chambers International Airport, IATA designation CIA. Our pilot, dressed in a most fetching yet businesslike black leather flying suit has goggles perched jauntily on the brow of her open faced latex flying helmet. In most airports, you will not be able to follow your pilot this closely and I must say, any nerves about flying are already starting to dissipate as the tight black leather trousers sway rather sensually up the stairs to the training area.

It is wise to keep the pilot happy and content otherwise who knows what might happen? I had already promised to do anything for the Pilot to ensure a happy crew, safe trip and happy landing, and now was a good time to exercise a little pre-flight worship and I started as any good passenger would, by licking and cleaning the high gloss, black, calf length patent leather flying boots that made up part of Pilot Maggie’s uniform. It never hurts to grovel at the feet of someone in total charge.

CMO Maggie, always conscious of improving the health and well-being of her charges had indicated that a new method for controlling DVT was to be trialled; the traditional method was to prescribe graduated compression stockings, but CMO Maggie wished to observe the positive effects of an overall compression suit. I was duly fitted into a tight plum coloured latex catsuit, intelligently designed with openings at appropriate locations to allow for long term wear. To avoid embarrassing evacuations at high altitude, a black butt plug was inserted sealing off my back passage. The suit was both snug and comfortable, helped by HoT Maggie assisting this novice into his compression suit, smoothing out any wrinkles and of course ensuring the crotch zip was opened for transit.


The first serious part of the training involved high altitude awareness. HoT Maggie wanted her trainee aviators to be aware of the effects of high altitude and first wound a layer of cling film round my head and upper torso to simulate high flying without Playroom pressurisation. Once satisfied that I wasn't panicking about the restricted air flow she proceeded to the more critical training, holding my head in a clear plastic bag to simulate a total blow out and no air. That may be why the butt plug was so securely seated to prevent high altitude blow outs? Anyway, I passed that test with flying colours and satisfied HoT Maggie that I had faith in her ability to safely reintroduce air without panic.

I quipped that a parachute would be a good idea if the flight was to end prematurely and to my great surprise Pilot Maggie laughed, agreeing that ‘yes’ I would be wearing a parachute 'just in case'. I was a little concerned with the parachute placement as it was securely attached round my testicles, but Maggie assured me that CMO Maggie was stretching the traditional views that a parachute should be attached to the back of a person, I was more than a little relieved when HoT Maggie indicated this was the reserve chute and would only be deployed in the event that a plane becomes inverted and you were forced to bail, it could be out the door with arse in the air and where else to attach a reserve chute but around your balls.

Before I could take off in the flight simulator, PiC Maggie fitted a latex open faced flying helmet, a breathing mask and a hose, that would be used to provide relaxants should they be required during the simulator flight. I was attached to the flying harness which in turn was chained to the roof ring, then with very little effort I was able to lift my legs and accompanied by a cheer from PiC Maggie, I was now free, floating above the Playroom. To reinforce the concept of 'free flight' my legs were attached to a spreader bar and securely attached to the waist belt so that I could happily fly without the worry of my landing gear prematurely engaging with the floor.

CMO Maggie needed to test the suitability of the inverted parachute with appropriate stress testing and gradually began adding a few weights to ensure nothing snapped. I even got to hold a couple of weights whilst the CMO attended to the parachute harness.

If I am being honest, I was a little concerned with the weight of the two items I was holding. I appreciated that the reserve parachute would have to take considerable weight in the event of it being deployed but even so, these weights would severely stretch my scrotum. Oh well, better to be prepared than surprised!

To assist with the weight acclimatisation, HoT Maggie introduced aromas through the breathing mask. A few deep breaths and the strong relaxant aroma worked, I felt both light headed and light balled as the vapour worked its magic, in fact so relaxed that I don't know if Maggie actually added the two heavy weights to the harness. I was flying and the parachute was taking the added weights easily. I hung and floated, and with more aromas was starting to really appreciate this flying lark, despite Maggie contra-rotating my body and ball weights.

Like the excellent trainer that Maggie is, she knows that positive reinforcement gets the message across almost as effectively as the stick approach, she had suggested that if I take all the weights I could be the first to see her nipple pasties. Here I was confronted by Maggie's super structure adorned with two dials but instructions not to adjust the settings. I am always amazed at how super the structure of HoT Maggie’s upper body is and try as I may, I could not fly any closer. I think the two dials are for adjusting pleasure and pain levels; a tweak on the left one resulted in more pleasure for the passenger. A tweak of the right dial resulted in the parachute getting more encouragement to part company from my balls, while the aromas continued to help calm and relax the passenger.

I had successfully completed this part of the flight simulation and PiC Maggie handed me back to HoT Maggie for the more disturbing scenarios in the training programme; the forced landings.

Assuming that we had to bail out over land, there’s the distinct possibility that you could land in some remote location only populated with hostile vegetation, possibly alone and miles from assistance, it is important not to lose control or panic in the face of suffering any adverse effects from the poisonous fauna and flora. In previous years I have already undergone similar jungle survival training, but on this occasion HoT Maggie made certain that the jungle was in control and I had no choice as to where I would land my exposed undercarriage.

The most potent pot of fresh, small leafed Urtica dioica, commonly know as stinging nettles, were placed on the low punishment bench so as to be just at the right height to go straight for the balls when Maggie started me swinging again. She had grown these plants specifically for her inflight emergency testing and had succeeded in cultivating a pot far more potent than anything I have ever experienced.

HoT Maggie set me gently swinging, I could see the undergrowth approaching and . . . absolutely nothing I could do to avoid crash landing in their midst. To make matters worse, just like a swing, I went through the nettle bush and then swung backwards so the back of my balls got a good dose as well. Maggie giggled each time I swung through the nettles, twitching a lot and grunting a little, and I am sure HoT Maggie gets far too much enjoyment from this part of the flight training program!. Fortunately, I was able to request further deep gulps of the very welcome, ball numbing aromas and despite Maggie's best efforts to break my resolve, I came through the ordeal in good spirits. I will mention that the effects are not particularly unpleasant, but unlike earlier tests, I could still feel the tingling sensations on my cock and balls for several hours.

We were now progressing to the final part of the emergency training, that of ditching over water. To help simulate the watery grave that I would have met without the training, HoT Maggie deployed the plastic sheet, and in lieu of rain opted for a more natural alternative that not only mimicked the warm humid conditions of a equatorial crash, but reinforced how important it is to take on fresh liquids to avoid dehydration. The inclement cloud burst was prepared as Maggie removed her leather flying suit and donned a pair of zipped Wellingtons to avoid damage to herself and the plastic ocean, the storm then erupted.

HoT Maggie squatted directly over my eager mouth and I took the full force of the storm to quench my thirst. Although I was only inches from Mistresses private parts and oh so tempted to lick off the last drops, my slave training and CIA rules absolutely forbid such activity, nor would I want to upset my pilot. Once my thirst was well and truly quenched, the storm moved south and flooded the whole of my nettled area. I am not sure if it was the remnants of the aromas or the very therapeutic effects of Maggie's pee, but somehow the tingling in cock and balls temporarily diminished. Perhaps this is another of CMO Maggie's experiments to use if dock leaves are unavailable for such stinging injuries?. I was finally thoroughly drenched head to toe in storm water and wrapped in the sheet to experience the full effects of inescapable warmth and humidity.

And so I received the final tick in the box from HoT Maggie. I had successfully completed the pre-flight training and as the announcement started '. . . Flight 121 is now boarding at the Playroom boarding gate. All passengers. . . ' I wondered if Virgin Atlantic would ever introduce such a memorable check-in routine. Hmm, no competition, I know I will always enjoy flying far more with Mistress Maggie Airways.

Word to the wise for other would be aviators. When you finally emerge from your piss soaked heaven you will definitely feel the cold. Mistress insisted on me having a warm shower to help stop the shivering. Do the same if offered!

Lisa - An Unassuming, Quiet Individual

After five and a bit years training, Mistress Maggie decided it was high time to introduce me to her female sub slave Lisa. Lisa is the only permanent, live in slave that Maggie keeps and has impeccable manners and a very quiet persona. I have already been introduced to Mistresses other pet, Ted but he can be a little spiky at times but Lisa is, well Lisa; totally pliable, devoted, quiet as the proverbial church mouse and prepared to do anything her owner instructs her to do. She can be a little cool, her skin can feel a little plasticky with the occasional sag here and there, age and over use has perhaps contributed to her appearance, but Lisa never ever complains. You may discern the faintest hiss as Lisa gets a little excited or perhaps a little deflated if she is frustrated, but other than that, no sounds. I will return to Lisa shortly.

Mistress greeted me in an olive latex uniform that looked alarmingly like a picture of a Russian officer topped off with a rather sinister peaked cap: One star of a field general but without the gold braid. Perhaps it should be Mistress General Maggie? That would be most suitable for this slave as, like any loyal and faithful soldier, I do exactly as ordered, immediately and without question.

Oh well, on my knees as instructed I think I provided a comfortable dais for my General to sit on whilst commanding her small Playroom army of three. In descending order of rank, Ted, Lisa and me.

When I first saw this picture, it took a long while to see past the image of my stunning General; her stylish court shoes, long nylon covered legs, gorgeous latex covered body, that absolutely wonderful bust line and of course her stunning good looks. But after that 'long while' I noticed the caricature that Mistress had commissioned for our centenary celebrations hanging on the wall just over her left shoulder, I had to break off to revisit my diary for that memorable session; the last time Mistress trusted me to serve her friends. . .  I digress. Back to Lisa who you can see quietly lying on the bed behind Mistress Maggie.

Mistress had been gradually increasing the size of my back passage and gently presenting aromas for my relaxation. She had just finished with an aroma soaked cloth when she told me I would be engaging in a military threesome this afternoon; I was required to fuck Lisa and Mistress was going to fuck me. A threesome with me as the meat in the sandwich! This had me confused; a relatively easy state for this simple slave to be in. I know that any thoughts of this type of activity on my part would have me severely chastised, yet here I was being ordered to mount Mistresses live-in love doll slave.

But first I was instructed to become more intimately acquainted with Lisa and introduce myself by cleaning and sniffing her private parts. Ah! that is where the aroma soaked pad had been deposited. It gave a slightly musty aroma to Lisa's genitalia, not unpleasant, so I set to work licking, kissing and generally introducing myself to my newly acquired friend. I could have sworn that her lady bits were located where her navel should be? It is strange the effects that a good dose of aromas can have on your senses.

Anyway, after these preliminaries, Mistress turned me over and expertly rolled a condom down my cock and told me to slide it  inside Lisa’s hole. As I mentioned, with the target somewhere around her midriff it was a strange angle of attack, but I eventually managed full penetration to be rapidly followed by Mistress and her strap-on achieving full penetration of her chosen target and that really got me thrusting. It must have been a bizarre sight; the gasmasked Lisa underneath with her privates lined up, myself and my fully loaded weapon in the middle fulfilling my temporary role as ‘naval orificer’, and my Mistress General Maggie bringing up the rear giving me orders not to shoot anything. ‘You do not cum. This is for the girls enjoyment!’

So I didn't. It was difficult to control, but I was relieved when both Mistress and Lisa appeared to have had their fill without any embarrassment on my part. I was surprised that Mistress then ordered me to strip naked and, after quickly tying my hands to the overhead ring, set about oiling up her slave. Now that was exciting! Her gloved hands rubbing the Playroom lube all over my body before inserting me into the grey plastic suit. I have happily worn this suit before, it has a short opening at the crotch which was used to access the wires to the inflated anal vibrator that Mistress had just inserted. The vibrator was set quite high and then I was sealed inside the green hazmat suit as well. Quite a lot of plastic then but no way to adjust the magnitude of the tremors that were now seismically affecting my back passage.

I was marched to the Clinic by General Maggie and ordered to mount the couch, not mount in the biblical sense of course; I had done all the mounting with Lisa, but as I lay there, Mistress attached a breathing mask to my face and zipped the whole lot inside the hazmat suit. The only way I could take in air was by drawing it down a length of plastic hose that emerged from behind my head. Maggie had once again excelled in her planning and every now and then, allowed whiffs of aroma to travel into my sealed environment.

Lisa wasn't the only one to be pumped up today. Just like Lisa I was about to become an inflatable plastic play toy for Maggie’s amusement. Mistress returned to the clinic in her lovely green hazmat suit and as I lay there I wondered what she was attaching to my legs. I soon found out when she switched on her electric pump and they blew up like balloons. Now I was rigid in more ways than one, as I could not bend my legs with the fully inflated leg splints.

Just when I thought I was pumped up quite enough Maggie unzipped my hazmat hood and removed my breathing mask, giving me a clear vision of my plastic Mistress. Something else was about to be pumped when she slipped my head into the inflatable plastic hood. We had a little discussion concerning the length of the breathing tube and a little adjustment was made to perfect it, and once I acknowledged that I was comfortable, Maggie huffed and puffed and completely blew my head up.

I lay there with a fat head, fat legs, the vibrator still pulsing away in my bum and the final straw, Maggie rested her Hitachi wand in my navel with its powerful vibrations set on maximum to really torment her slave. This time I really couldn't stop myself. As Maggie soothed my swollen head safely clothed inside her own hazmat suit, I gazed back at my stunning owner, so near yet so totally untouchable I just had to let myself go.

I wasn't on my own in letting my fluids flow. Back in the Playroom I took my place on the plastic covered bed and Mistress secured me down in a spread-eagle fashion. I was to be rehydrated after my taxing assignment in the hazmat suit and Mistress had plans to thoroughly quench my thirst. I then got a somewhat filtered view of what a real woman's anatomy looks like, Mistress stood in control above me pressing her used panties into my face, then fitted them across my eyes and nose and let out a stream of her juices for me to drink.

Although I am partial to a cup of filter coffee at times, I don't think I have ever had the pleasure of filtered champagne. Not that Maggie’s champagne needs any filtering, it is always perfect no matter how it is served, but I did have the benefit of being able to take the very wet panties home for future consumption and laundering.

And where was Lisa having been evicted from her bed? - Oh, just drying and hanging around. I did feel a little sorry for her as she had taken on a somewhat deflated, dejected look, which probably wasn't helped by the lengthy gas mask exercise she'd had to endure. However, it seems that it wasn't the aroma affecting my sense of direction, have a look where I was mounting Lisa for yourself.

Lisa - hanging around after having been thoroughly cleaned

I am pleased Mistress Maggie has introduced me to Lisa and I know my place in the Playroom pecking order.