Disappointed

For the avoidance of any ambiguity with the title of this blog, I can honestly say I have NEVER been disappointed with any of the sessions that Mistress Maggie has so kindly allowed me to experience. In fact, I would go so far as to say that every one of my sessions has been pure enjoyment, possibly with the exception of the odd painful episode, electrocutions, mangina, cbnt etc, but those are exactly what I signed up for and I really wouldn’t have it any other way.

So why disappointment for the title? Well I know today that I failed to perform to the highest levels that I have achieved in the past, and I learned in the session debrief that parts of the session that Mistress Maggie would reliably find very satisfying ended up being disappointing for her. That in turn has led to my disappointment in failing to reach the previous attainment levels.

I will return to this later in the blog but for now I will start with the calling email - 

‘…  Pack your kit bag with black t-shirt and shorts, socks and gloves, plus your butt plug just in case!

Your rubber Mistress will be giving you a lesson in how size matters before wrapping up with a theme that will almost feel like a party.’

It was unusual for Mistress to instruct me to bring shorts and tee-shirt and now my brain was in a fuddle as the mail was so nebulous that we could be enjoying anything and everything, so I arrived with my imagination running riot.

I was greeted by my Mistress in her tight black latex body suit, leopard print latex gloves, with those beautiful legs adorned with a pair of glossy latex stockings and low heeled black knee boots that produced an amazing squeak each time she moved. (That squeak proved most useful in echo locating my Mistress as she moved around behind me.) I have already described the mesmeric effect that glorious derriere has on me, and once again I followed Mistress to the Playroom as closely as I dare, intrigued by the future enjoyment.

Boot worship was divine as usual and Mistress outlined that the session would be in three parts, the first involved me dressed in tee-shirt and shorts with an exquisite latex hood. The horse was manoeuvred out of its resting place and I was handed the anaesthesia mask with the aromas delivery hose attached and told to mount the horse and prepare to have my holes opened. As an aside, I was able to get into a much more open position by moving along the bench lifting my legs off the floor and using that width of the horse to spread my butt. It also had the advantage of my head being off the other end of the horse and allowing easy aroma delivery.

It is an old adage that the size of what will fit in your mouth will fit up your bum and Maggie wasted no time in testing out the theory, sticking the first of three dildos into my mouth. Well that seemed to work as Mistress inserted it into her harness and after suitable lubrication slowly wriggled it into my other end. I think she whispered something about needing to exercise my anus before it healed itself up. Well, that first mounting with a generous helping of long thrusts certainly blew away a few cobwebs. The second larger dildo received a similar introduction to mouth then rear, and by this time I was thoroughly enjoying being f***ed by my owner and having the freedom to self-administer the aromas.

Now her third dildo was huge, or at least it appeared huge as Mistress used my mouth once again to check the girth of the flag pole that was about to go up my bottom. It did go in my mouth, but had it been food I’d still be trying to swallow it! Similarly, it was a tight fit up my bum despite me just having another reasonably big monster up there, Maggie wasn’t too concerned, she put it aside and moved onto the final plug; the electro-dildo!

Needless to say, this plug was administered by hand and was not tested for size in my mouth. A conductive pad was place adjacent to my scrotum and the sensations achieved when the power was turned on was… stimulating to the extent that I had to alert Maggie that much more of this treat would result in a sudden, uncontrolled explosion. At which point Maggie abruptly stopped, leaving me a little frustrated but relieved to have averted premature ejaculation.

Time for part 2 of three of this wonderful experience; breathplay. I was really relieved because it had been a while since Mistress had seen fit to really take my breath away and the lack of practice showed. First of all I was to be squeezed into the tightest of tight latex sacks. This sack started life with only a neck opening and when we first looked at it many months ago, we both said in unison that a great lump like me would never fit in the neck opening. Since then Mistress has given it a full length rear zip. Now that was a fantastic modification. Arms by sides, step in, legs together and Maggie slowly zipped me inside which leaves the wearer looking like a skittle, totally encased from neck downwards in slinky tight black latex rubber and totally helpless. You do need to be careful because it is difficult to maintain balance while so tightly encased.

My lack of balance didn’t last long, as Maggie placed the playroom chair immediately behind me and helped me to lower myself into a comfortable sitting position where two long lengths of hemp finished the job by tying her plaything to the chair. Mistress stood back to appreciate her bondage work before advancing towards me and smothering me with her breasts. Underneath her warm boobs I had to contort my face to allow sufficient air to get round those superb and nearly airtight breasts that had been dextrously applied across my mouth and nose. Being so close to Mistress and being almost unable to breathe was like being in heaven. Smothering by breasts has definitely hit the spot when it comes to getting back into breath play.

Alas, the next part of the breath play was where I really flunked out and disappointed Mistress. I'm a bit of a glutton when it comes to aromas and Mistress had spent some time modifying a plastic bag to allow a cannula pipe through, so I would be able to enjoy aromas along with some suffocation. The cannula was rested under my nostrils and secured in place with two pieces of tape. All was set; aromas were being delivered via the cannula pump as they should be and Maggie sealed my head inside the plastic. All OK so far. But I think I was expecting at least an adequate air supply as I had overlooked the fact that Maggie would be using her plastic bag for asphyxiation, not restricted breathing.

Unlike my first ever session with Maggie, where I was strung up for my first serious bagging experience and had managed to suck up all the available air, much of the plastic and could not wait for another go at breathlessness, I panicked this time and in no time at all I was begging for air.

Of course Mistress granted my request, but I knew that Mistress was disappointed with my total lack of commitment to this, one of her more enjoyable phases of my training. The post session inquest suggested that I'd let Maggie down and that I really had under performed in today's breathplay stakes. I must apologise to my Mistress for this disappointment and I think I need a lot more practice to return my performance to acceptable levels.

After the all too brief a spell of breath play Mistress moved on to the final third of her planned activities, and I am fortunate that she doesn’t hold a grudge because a slave performs badly. I think I even detected a little smile as I jiggled with the nettles and received in return a good dose of hot wax. First of all I was to strip off all my latex and assist with laying out the maroon PVC sheet below the overhead. 

I was still standing in my birthday suit when Maggie began wrapping me in shrink wrap, I held the end of the roll to give Maggie a good start in covering my upper torso. A good tight wrap that soon had me enveloped from crotch to neck with anything above that line now covered by a latex hood. Bearing in mind I could not move my arms at all, it was a little cumbersome getting onto the PVC sheet. I could sag onto the side of the bed and managed to lay down in a most ungainly fashion, but of course I was facing the wrong direction. More excellent planning by Maggie as it was a relatively easy task to use the PVC sheet to slide me through 180 degrees so that my legs could be raised above the bed to a pair of waiting ankle stirrups, that in turn were attached to the overhead gantry, exactly where Maggie wanted me for her forthcoming amusement.

A few good hefty pulls by Mistress had me suspended by my ankles with only my neck and shoulders resting on the floor. I still had no idea where this part of the adventure was taking us; Maggie of course knew exactly where she wanted her slave as she quickly and efficiently wrapped the lower part of my torso. It was actually quite comfortable but I couldn’t move my head to see what was going on in the rest of The Playroom.

However I did get the sense of Mistresses movements, because each time she was preparing a surprise her boots emitted their endearing ‘squeak, squeak’. So I wasn’t surprised when Maggie appeared at the end of the raised gantry and started attaching several pieces of light rope, until there were three cords dangling in strategic positions from the overhead. What did surprise me and I must say concerned me a little were the three holes Maggie created in her perfect clingfilm wrapping; one for each nipple and one at my groin.

What concerned me even more were the two candles that were attached to the dangling cords, followed by a silver wrapped nettle. Ah, I thought I had got away with that pleasure this year. I shouldn’t mention this but I have grown accustomed to and even like the tingling of the nettles. Being the end of summer it was a mature sprig that doesn’t sting quite as much, but I began moving my hips to get a better connection with her hanging bunch of nettles. That action stopped the moment Mistress lit both ends of each candle. Each time I twitched my hips to get a better contact, the dangling candles gyrated and I was showered predominantly across my nipples, by hot wax. Not too hot to burn but hot enough to excite. I found myself in somewhat of a predicament. Do I nettle my nuts, warm my nipples or what? I believe Mistress refers to this as predicament bondage. Well I took the only option open to me. Excite my cock and balls, suffer the hot wax treatment and listen to Mistress laughing.

In the end, I gave up all control, bucked my hips, splashed my nipples and thoroughly enjoyed the various erotic sensations. This part of the session only ended when Mistress detected the smell of burning string and thought it wise to extinguish the candles. Not wishing to waste the situation Mistress straddled my face and we had another bout of far more successful breath play as I was smothered beneath her delicious bottom. ‘Oops, I’ve forgotten to do something’, she said before quickly disappearing from the room. When she returned I could hear the rustle of thick plastic above me. Maggie came back in sight and she had donned her shiny clear plastic pants and promptly mounted my face once more for a final, plastic, breathless finale.

I did notice when we were quickly tidying up at the end of another exciting session that wax had splashed all over the PVC sheet, fortunately without leaving a mark on the carpet. I also got the impression that Mistress Maggie was pleased with this final part and complemented her slave that I had lasted so long and taken so much waxing and nettling.

As I said at the start, I had another thoroughly enjoyable session but I am not happy that I had cause to disappoint my Mistress. Perhaps more practice will bring me back to previous performance levels. Sorry Mistress for disappointing you but a big thank you as I thoroughly enjoyed yet another wonderful experience. With hindsight the calling e-mail makes complete sense and was accurate as to session content. Isn't hindsight a wonderful gift?

Caution: This 1:33s bagging breathplay clip has audio.

Dreams to Reality

Occasionally, when I am not mesmerised by thinking about Mistress Maggie my fingers wander through Flickr, and as my eyes settle on something rather exciting I might or might not add it to my favourites. I generally move on and forget the favourite and that is exactly what happened on this occasion until... Yes, Mistress saw it and made it happen. No, not the electric blue latex gloves that shone out like a beacon from the shiny black of her leotard, nor her lace up boots, which once I had been hooded I knelt down and dutifully worshipped. I will progress on to what dream Maggie allowed me to experience, but not yet.

Once the boot worship was satisfactorily completed, I was helped into my slave uniform of full tight black latex, led through to The Clinic and invited to sit on the couch. With a firm push on my chest Mistress made sure I was lying down, strapped down and ready for my unknown treatment. Mistress asked me some questions about a recent appointment I’d had with my GP and said that I would be receiving a second opinion. While being advised that I should continue with the prescription my GP had given me, Mistress examined me with her long blue gloves and gave me a big dose of abuse about my useless cock.

Plying me with a lot of aroma anaesthesia I became very relaxed and Maggie began her recommended therapy, suggesting in no uncertain terms that as my cock was so useless she was going to ensure it stayed that way for the rest of the session. With a pump pump here and a pump pump there, here a pump, there a pump...   My apologies, I was doing as I was told; thinking un-stimulating random thoughts as Mistress proceeded to fix a locking chastity device on me.

Nothing can be anticipated with my Mistress and as she slid the cage over my cock I was again told to ‘Think about hell slave’. Well, all the negative thoughts must have worked as I heard the click of the little lock sealing my cocks’ fate.

I was about to learn why my trusty butt plug had been left sitting all on its own in The Playroom, unwanted and unused. Mistress dangled the Kegel balls in front of my nose, not the four that I had last time but the two weighted jiggling balls which fill your arse with stimulating electric sensations. I think Mistress was in a playful mood, which is always good for a slave, as she flicked the switches and the electric motors of the gynae chair silently worked their magic on altitude, pitch and roll aspects of her pinioned slave. By the time Maggie had adjusted all aspects of the chair I felt like I had been taken for a ride. When satisfied with my orientation I was made to inhale more of Maggie’s medicinal aromas and my bum hole was taken for a ride as the Kegel balls were pushed inside.

By now, I had realised that both the Kegels and the chastity cage were not just passive objects, as Mistress was attaching leads and went on to successfully test the connections. She seemed to have great delight in watching my cock twitch and go no further, embraced in the tight confines of the electro-cage, and the sensations up my bum were throbbing to say the least. The cock electrodes were more intense but the bum throb just keeps on and on. All this erection control was just the precursor to what was about to happen next door, back in The Playroom.

Seated on the low Playroom bench I sat quietly waiting until Mistress appeared carrying a bar stool. Although I had not seen the stool before it somehow looked familiar. I then remembered the pictures that I had marked as favourites, they depicted a slave strapped to such a stool facing the seat, waiting for their Master/Mistress to sit and torment their senses with the closeness of the most private parts, and I was gradually realising what Maggie may have as a treat for her slave.

Maggie raised the seat higher until I could rest my chin comfortably on it and there I was fixed. Tight strap round the back of my neck, legs wrapped round and secured to the stool, and my wrists secured to the stool back so I was virtually hugging it. Long leather straps were tightened around the whole lot making me part of the furniture. My growing cock was beginning to put pressure on the inside of the electro chastity device at the prospect of what may be coming - a perfect time for Maggie to reintroduced me to the electrics and that's exactly what she did. That certainly focuses your mind on keeping your cock under control!

My mouth was lined with a red tongued mouthpiece, effectively preventing direct contact with any of Maggie's intimate parts that may tantalisingly present themselves. This was an expected restriction as I know the Chambers rules; no intimate worship allowed, and rules are rules!. With my legs and arms braced round the stool it did make for a very secure place for Mistress to rest her very beautiful derrière, but that delight would have to wait just a little while longer, at least until I had gratefully accepted a few more whiffs of aroma from the open bottle Mistress was holding to my nose and I felt a few more notches on the e-stim. The anticipation made any electro discomfort worthwhile.

Sensually, Mistress extended one leg over my head and gently sat down with her tightly latex covered pussy only millimetres away from my latex covered tongue. I gazed in sheer wonderment at that wonderful sight and naturally my cock started to erect again. Equally naturally, the tighter the erection inhibitor became the better the electric connection to my enclosed cock. What a delightful dilemma that I had no control over. As any red blooded male would, whenever Mistress sexily moved her private parts I got hard - but didn't of course because of the shocks... Maggie really is an expert in teasing her slave and with each tease I know I am sinking deeper and deeper under her spell.

My mouthpiece was removed and Maggie carefully re-oriented her position so her derrière was now right in front of my freed tongue, her lower back and beautiful cheeks within my reach as I was commanded to start licking. The scent and taste of Maggie was glorious. The day was warm and in her tight latex her skin had become drizzled with a thin sheen of perspiration. The taste and scent is absolutely out of this world. The combination of Mistress and moist latex certainly set me deeper and further along the path of total servitude. Sod the electrics, I was in heaven and it was about to get even more sublime.

The anaesthetic mask was once again secured to my face for a nice mixture of poppers and sweet breath control. The hosepipe extending from my nose finished with a dildo. I could only watch as Maggie sitting on her high stool smoothed oil over it, rubbing it in ready for insertion. Sliding her leotard zip open the whole length of the dildo disappeared inside her pussy. Oh what a decision to take.

There was nothing I could do except relish in my total breathing being dependant on Mistresses pussy. All the way in and you can't breathe at all, with just one hole showing I got enough air and my Mistress was taking pleasure in every moment with her breathless slave. I could actually smell the most intimate and private areas of my Mistress and when she finally laid her used dildo on the stool I was told to take care of it. ‘That’s what you wanted, now clean it up slave’. As I did so a strange progression of tastes repeated on my tongue: Mistress, lube and a hint of rubber. I had reached another step along the road of total adoration and dependence on my wonderful owner.


WARNING: This 50 second clip has audio.

Mistress Maggie had taken one of my secret desires that I had forgotten about and turned it into a brilliant reality, moving me along the road I wish to tread. I would like to thank Maggie for being the perfect Mistress but I think I had better re-address my Flickr favourites to see what else has tickled my fancy in the past and who knows...

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.

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!

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!

Relief for Mistress?

After 97 sessions I have come to understand some of the moods and feelings of Mistress Maggie. I certainly know when I have disappointed her, but this week I got the impression from a couple of email exchanges that she was deeply perturbed by a couple of issues, neither of which were of my making. I had already responded 'I hope that you will use your slave to work off some of your anguish'. The brevity of her calling mail tended to confirm that something still concerned Mistress 'Slave required to help Mistress into new rubber catsuit . . . Pack black rubber.' I wracked my brains for what I might have done and for once nothing obvious sprang to mind.

When I arrived Mistress was in good spirits. We talked and Maggie outlined the order of events, I was going to pedicure her feet and then zip her into her brand new never worn catsuit which was hanging lifelessly on its hanger from the gantry. It wasn’t hanging up there on its own for too long, as Maggie helped me into my rubber suit, cuffed me to the overhead and brought a bucket and sponge to wash away any talc smears in COLD water! I was able to surreptitiously swing round a little in the fetters and gaze at her new suit hanging nearby, with no chance of release until I was fully drip dried.

Meanwhile, Maggie sat in her latex dressing gown and sheer stockings on her throne, teasing her slave with lewd and very suggestive gestures, whilst I just hung around getting considerably warmer. To speed up the drying cycle Maggie had me circling my hips and performing strenuous knee jumps until there were no water droplets to be seen.

Mistress thought best to have her pedicure done in the White Room, she could lie back and relax on the couch with her feet up and rely on her slave to have her feet looking and feeling fabulous and fit for a queen.

And so I was led to the White Room where I gently eased off her shoes, parking them neatly against the wall as Maggie slipped off her stockings and handed me the tools required for pedicure.

With one leg in each stirrup, Mistress gave me instructions as to which small outcrops of hard skin needed attention and I got busy with an emery board. To help ensure I did a good job I was to forego the usual rubber gloves and would need to wear my glasses. They actually stayed in place on the outside of the open faced hood; yet another first in my training.

I am a red blooded slave and required considerable self-control as the latex dressing gown Mistress was wearing gently parted, once again revealing that Mistress was naked underneath. As well as red blooded I am trained and I took the sensible way out; positioned myself facing away from her nakedness and set to work gently pedicuring each of her beautiful feet. I had come into intimate contact with them earlier but only as I licked and cleaned every inch of fabric that were her black, shiny platform shoes. Now I could hold them, smooth them and generally worship them in the raw but I had a job to do.

Glasses required!

This is one activity I know Mistress likes and one that I am becoming passable at. After a long and gentle rubbing with the emery I cleaned each foot with my tongue to check for smoothness before asking Mistress if she was satisfied with my work. This time when she spoke I didn't make the mistake of looking where I shouldn't and gazed straight at her face, as she confirmed I was doing a good job and directed me to small areas that required a little more of my attention.

The next instruction set me shaking. I was to use two long wooden cotton buds, one to clean and the second to polish her intimate diamond ring. She held the ring as I wiped and polished the little gem with the buds. I am sure the trembling of my hands was transmitted down the bud but I persevered and finally completed the special task to Maggie's satisfaction and her slaves severe frustration!

We returned to the Playroom and I was instructed to glove up. Maggie said she needed the toilet and it would be best to go before dressing in her new catsuit. I was to be her convenience and promptly marched to the bathroom where I was to position myself over the toilet pan, face up so I could act as her nice, soft, warm rubbery toilet seat. And so it was Mistress squatted, ordered ‘open mouth' and released a warm stream straight into it. Not full flow, a controlled outpouring, followed by 'swallow’. I was just pleased that Maggie might have found another method of tension release, using her slaves eager mouth to relieve herself. I needed the thirst quenching, then Mistress who insists on a spotless bathroom had the convenience of using me to clean up spillages, but that is a slaves job after all.

It was then time to pour Mistress into her new catsuit. The suit is a lot thinner than mine and because of that required more care when easing Mistress inside her second skin. Despite Maggie having chlorinated the suit we both agreed a little talc the first time wouldn't go amiss. One leg slithered home, then the second leg, a little powder and each arm slipped in, once more making Mistress take on the vision of one of my fantasies; my rubber Mistress. The final act I had to perform was to ease the long zip all the the way up past her buttocks, past her waist, and finally up her back to her slender neck. All the while, the suit tightened and Maggie and her second skin became one.

Out came the bondage chair again into the middle of the Playroom, and I was parked on it and tied rather unceremoniously by several lengths of rope to the various eyelets around its frame, my neck collar also was secured to the back of the chair minimising any forward head movement.

I sat there for five minutes or so with only the sound of rustling plastic in the next room for company, until Mistress returned and double bagged me with clear plastic which was tightened at my neck with a convenient piece of latex bandage. It was at this time I realised I wasn't 100% recovered from my recent cold. I would normally lap it up, but instead I really struggled and my begging began far too early. Maggie attentive as always to a dying slave curtailed that part and moved on to her needle point play. Eight sterile needles to be precise. Four in each nipple.

My nipple zips had been slowly opened and Maggie methodically assembled all her nipple jabbing necessaries in a silver dish, which she placed on a table to my left. Gloved up, Maggie showed me the first needle before lining it up with my nipple, saying ‘I am going to push this through now, are you ready?’. The right hand ones were a nightmare, I had forgotten how to ride the pain. Taking a deep intake of breath just as Mistress was attaching the nipple needle did not seem to be working, resulting in more intake, and by the time the fourth one went in I almost lost it. My breathing became ragged, the voices in my head were telling me I really shouldn't have breathed in at that moment and I was generally in a sorry state.

Mistress agreed a time out to allow me to settle and realising the problem said 'deep breath in, and after I count 3 you will receive the next one’. That is of course the correct way. I paused with full lungs and at the count of three, slowly exhaled as the pain subsided; easy when you know how.

I would not be escaping without a rubber hood either, a double walled white rubber hood was brought into play. I had seen the hood earlier in the week when we chlorinated the item, but at that stage I could neither visualise how it fitted or what it would feel like. I got an answer to both questions. Maggie fitted the hood whilst I sat as still as I could so as not to disturb my nipple furniture. Mistress thought I looked hilarious in the hood with the front flapping like elephant ears and thought it even more amusing as she sealed me inside the two layers. Another of those 'I will regret this moment' but the hood felt really comfortable and even with me flapped inside, I could draw in sufficient air to allow me to wear the hood for a long time without any problem. The good thing was that Maggie was starting to laugh at her slave again. Perhaps the blues were lifting?.

My tightly gripped cock was now released from the catsuit. The relief from the tight compression was immediate and Maggie smiled again and I knew things were about to become more 'playful' as another length of white Playroom rope was secured tightly round my balls and a lead snapped on but left dangling for later. I was sat breathing easily in the sealed mask, Mistress was caressing her balls and gathering them with the rope and everything was rosy and I could have stayed there for the remainder of the afternoon but in reality, release from the hood and chair came far too quickly, but we always work to Maggie's schedule not mine.

I soon discovered that what I thought was a lead to my balls was actually a piece of bungee. Maggie had stopped to admire her stunning catsuit in the Playroom mirror, I spotted a smear of talc on her left cheek and naturally grabbed a towel and was about to give her buttocks a good rub. Surprise! - my balls had been secured by bungee cord to the Playroom bed, Mistress cruelly inched away from me with instructions to go ahead and clean her buttocks, then moved further away still, saying 'kiss my lovely latex ass slave.' 

Despite the almost overwhelming urges, don't eagerly leap forward otherwise your balls get a real snap with the bungee. Best to gently ease forward so the gradual pressure stretches the cord (and balls) slowly, and ‘et viola’, a slave can kiss his Mistresses latex clad cheeks whilst balls are being pulled in the opposite direction. My biggest bungee challenge was tidying up the play space and pushing Maggie’s throne back into its rightful place in the corner, as Maggies balls just wanted to bungee over to the Playroom bed to which they were still firmly attached.

I detected that Maggie must have some residual feelings of frustration which needed working off, as she strapped me to the punishment horse and used several of her implements on my tightly latexed arse: the delrin cane, a stout yellow handled cane and a senior cane, quite a good workout with that one. Then a few strokes with a red whip, but the loudest and longest lasting sounds were made with the Amsterdam whip; very loud thudding sounds of leather firmly striking latex. Maggie didn't spare the Amsterdam but even the hardest cracks leave little impression, in contrast the canes definitely leave an impression on my buttocks even through the thick latex. Maggie shifted her stance and attacked back, balls, thighs and anywhere else the Amsterdam could reach and I think I finally tired her arm as the session drew to its natural conclusion.

I hope Maggie got some pleasure by really laying into my arse with the canes and whips, and quite frankly if Maggie got relief from whatever was concerning her, my job was done.

Was it a good session? Yes definitely. I think I might have helped Mistress Maggie get rid of some of the frustrations that may have been bugging her, and judging by the huge smile on both her and her husband Johns face, as he caressed the smoothness of his wife still wearing the tight latex catsuit as we said our good nights, reinforced how relaxed she now was and I left her in excellent spirits.