How Far can they Grow?

If there is one thing I have learnt in my 4 years of training it’s that Rule 13 – Mistress Maggie expects her slave to read minds at all times - is one of the most difficult rules to adhere to. Today was a case in point. In the last session I was certain Mistress had shown signs of disapproval when I arrived wearing only the latex tee-shirt, and other 'normal' clothes of course! So this time, when Maggie instructed me to bring latex tee-shirt, socks and shorts, I wore the lot under my normal street clothes. My mind reading did not win her approval and I got told off, as Mistress made it clear that she likes to take full control of my dressing actually in session.

I know that it is impossible that Mistress would ever want to be my valentine, but with valentines day just a few days away I presented Mistress with my gift of red roses. I also handed her a set of electro balls that I had bought from MEO, which I hoped Maggie may enjoy using on her slaves. Thorough as ever, it did not take long for her to open them up and whizz them off to the clinic for testing. They were wired up to her electrastim unit and she placed them on her arm to check that both ports were conducting correctly. Maggie jumping about crying 'oo-ah-ah-ow-ow-ow' was clear confirmation that the device was fully functional, then back to the playroom for dressing.

Mistress required me to don a few extra items to complete my uniform for the day. Firstly, the heavy weight leather harness with the 3" ring that sits behind cock and balls, my zipped latex gloves, and a rubber hood that Maggie chose from her new dark wood storage chest.

Oh yes, and lets not forget the set of smiley lips as Mistress likes her slaves smiling at all times!

I was ordered over Mistresses knee to work off a few de-merits I had incurred by being tardy with my last Flickr pics. It is hugely enjoyable to be face down on her lap with her strap-on sword fighting with my own, by now quite erect blade, as a good spanking was administered from her studded leather strap on my bare cheeks. I could wriggle on her clear latex leggings, grind a little on her upturned knees and I could even get a good view of her black nurse themed boots. Unfortunately, I couldn't see her magnificent bare breasts that had been so tantalisingly exposed when I arrived, but my red latex lips kept smiling.

A short crawl into the Clinic and up onto the gynae couch, I was instructed to position my bum over the end and make my calves comfortable in the raised stirrups, where legs were tightly strapped and wrists rather less tightly cuffed to the couch frame. Maggie decided that I would be given the pleasure of testing the MEO balls next. They proved a little awkward to install in my lying position with the harness strapped tightly across my butt, but finally both balls were pushed home and paired with two large electrodes that she'd clamped round my pole. In fact you might say I now had a bi-polar pole, and then again you might not! With all the electrastim wired to the right places Maggie was satisfied we could move to the main Clinic event; giving my balls 700ml of saline.

In went one cannula, connected by drip feed to a saline bag on the IV stand and away it went, dripping quite steadily. The second proved altogether more problematical and time consuming to rectify. I couldn't do anything to help my Mistress and I could tell she was very cross with the equipment. Finally the problem was isolated to a faulty line and when a new one was deployed everything was perfect. The relief in Mistresses voice was clear to hear, she soon relaxed and started humming again as the second line started drip, drip, dripping saline into the ball sack. You will see Maggie has neatly taped the cables out of harms way and taped the cannula's to make sure they didn't move during my electro-dancing. Its a good job I keep Maggie's balls hair free because that tape is very sticky. We did lose a lot of time and I should apologise to Maggie's husband John for delaying his tea.

On went the electrics. I’d quietly hinted at trying program five, but Maggie thought program five was altogether far too boring so after a while she generously switched to program nine, gradually raising the level on each channel to 26. A strange sensation with most of the stimulus around the crown of the shaft, but every now and then I felt sensations deep inside my anal passage. A very interesting sensation indeed. It kept Maggie amused as I aided the distribution of the infusing saline by dancing my hips around to the P9 pulse, and she kept feeling her growing balls. Like last time, I couldn’t really tell that my balls were ballooning in size. Certainly no unpleasant feelings, and I really liked the attention they were receiving from their owner.

After 250ml from each bag, Maggie replaced the empties and smiled as a further 100ml from each new bag was allowed to drip into my, by now, quite large scrotum. Mistress seemed very pleased with the size of her balls, the electrics were removed and I was about to become even more intimately acquainted with the strap-on that had been waving incongruously at me from the moment the Chambers door was opened. Lubed up, the strap-on went in very easily, full length and absolutely no problem, like a rat up the proverbial drain-pipe. I wonder if my hugely inflated balls affected Maggie's enjoyment? It certainly enhanced mine as the dildo was repeatedly thrust in to its maximum and clattered against my saline filled sack. This time I didn't need the smiley mask.

The straps were released and Mistress left the clinic, giving instruction for me to spend the next ten minutes tidying up the remnants of the infusion, while she disappeared into the Playroom to prepare for the next part of my training. That was the first time I caught a glimpse of Mistresses hugely inflated balls and Wow! I even managed a gentle massage just to see what it felt like. Hmmm! Very nice even though I say so myself.

Back in the Playroom I was asked to kneel before my Mistress. She fitted me with a leather muzzle, making sure the straps were pulled extra tight, and an iron neck collar was locked in place with a heavy padlock. I stood enabling chains to be added, attaching collar to the corners of the overhead gantry, followed by my wrists receiving similar chains. I couldn't see much, but I could hear lots of rattling which turned out to be an adjustable spreader bar. Maggie roped the iron bar at ankles and next thing I was being impaled with a dildo, I could feel the bar being inserted into my well used and still well lubed backside; adjusted so as not to fall out no matter what and loose enough for me to bend legs and push it in further; knees bend, arm stretch ra ra ra!

Without further ado, Mistress belted a sturdy serving tray around my body, another of her DIY projects I think, chains were used to hook it onto my neck collar and keep it level. Mistresses tea was deposited for safe keeping squarely on the tray. I could barely see the tray, but it buggered up the knee bending 'exercises’, because the tray tilted with every move and I was in danger of spilling its contents. There was nothing to do except stay bolt upright and rigid like a piece of furniture.

Maggie settled back onto the Playroom bed and opened a paperback book. I did have a good view of her as she lay there casually reading, turning the pages, the lovely sound of rubber on rubber whenever she shifted on the bed, whilst I stood there rigid and happy to hold the tray steady. A couple of chapters later and Maggie was obviously feeling hungry, she closed her book and stood up, one by one all my securing chains were stripped away leaving my arms free. I was to take charge of the tray and serve Mistress her tea.

Initially I had to rely on Maggie's instruction to get it right; back a bit, left side up a bit, to keep the tray roughly level as I fumbled for the plate of sandwiches. I could see enough to remove the clingfilm and watched as Maggie enjoyed her meal.

Ah, strawberries for afterwards. Once again, I had to remove the clingfilm, despite the muzzle I could smell the fragrance of ripe juicy fruits which I topped off with pouring cream. Same routine, off with the clingfilm and pour over the strawberries. Mistress loves strawberries and proceeded to consume them in the most provocative manner, that only she can achieve. I do serve the most incredibly frustrating and evocative Mistress.

Unlike Maggie's normal obsession with cleanliness, she allowed two smears of cream to land on her breasts. Well more precisely, Mistress took a dollop from the strawberry bowl and smeared the cream in the most suggestive manner across the top of each breast with the back of her spoon. Oh the frustration. Nothing I could do and I knew nothing I would do until instructed otherwise, and in any event I was muzzled and had to hold the tray firm. So I did what any good slave should do, stood to attention and just looked on, waiting my next instruction.

In rapid succession the tray was unchained, I was unmuzzled and told in no uncertain terms that I was a bad slave to allow Mistress to have cream in the wrong places and was told to clean up the area immediately. Oh did I clean up the affected areas. I have never consumed cream from such fine alabaster as Mistresses breasts. Smooth, firm and incredibly tasty. That was one cleaning job that I really did not want to end, but I am proud to say that I think I did a really good job removing every morsell of that cream.

Session time was coming to a close, but Mistress did not let me go without taking a last look and feel at her HUGE balls again. I was allowed a few moments relaxation on the latex bed while Maggie checked my new inflated measurements. 13.5 inches circumference today.

Undressing was a tad troublesome: the harness first, then off came the shorts, hood and tee-shirt. Ah yes, back to that 3" cock ring. Mistress had said that it may be interesting getting it off with my balls inflated, and it was. Quite a squeeze getting my huge balls through it, in fact Maggie detached the ring from the harness and suggested I take it home and remove it when my balls had shrunk back to normal. However, with a lot of gentle easing I did manage to remove the ring before leaving the chambers, so it’s been cleaned and safely returned to the harness.

Where to next? We are approaching our 100th session and we agreed that Mistress Maggie will give an infusion of 1 litre in that session. If you have followed the blog you will know that I have been Maggie’s guinea pig for this procedure and the build up has been gradual, 250ml, 450ml and today 700ml. So I know 1 litre will be fine, but that should provide the biggest set of dogs bollocks Mistress has ever handled. I hope Maggie is as excited as I am as she will own balls the size of a small football. As to my audition as serving tray, much more practise is required and watch this space.

Footnote:- By Sunday night Maggie's cock and balls were virtually back to normal. All the saline had been absorbed and you would never know that her balls had been so hugely inflated as I stroke the deflated sack and look forward to the litre infusion.

BDSM Fundamentals

The calling mail indicated . . . I will take you back to the fundamentals of BDSM, where you will be bowing at my every command. . .  and so Mistress Maggie summoned her very willing acolyte to continue my slave training with my exceptional Mistress.

Bowing began immediately as I went down on my knees presenting myself at Mistresses feet. I was asked to give her boots a thorough tonguing to give them a deep clean; my first mistake. I thought Maggie was wearing ankle boots; this mistake attracted heavy slaps as encouragement to worship the full length of her knee length boots. I don’t know how I could have missed that. I usually grab any excuse to do long flowing worship up Maggie's stunning legs. The boots Maggie wore did a good job of matching her latex stockings and I really thought they were ankle length and my worship and cleaning had to stop at ankle boot level. I am, after all, only a stupid slave, and now a stupid slapped one.

After helping me into my rubber catsuit, I was hooded, butt plug inserted, and Maggie told me to lie on the rubber bed where I was 'eased' into the Gates of Hell cock cage and told to maintain an erection. At that point, maintaining an erection was the least of my worries. Mistress then got to work tying me into a simple rope harness, which provided the foundations for the next stage, chair bondage.

The folding Playroom Chair was already in position, with cock and balls exposed and arms behind, I was loosely secured. The black steel leg spreader was roped at ankles to relentlessly spread my legs, well that is what a leg spreader does, and then attached to my bound wrists. That was effectively providing the only real attachment to the chair. I could move, but I wouldn't and didn't as I was plunged into a state of real mental torture. Mistress used a leather blindfold to rob my vision and rubber gag to pump up my cheeks. Maggie knows how I love watching her move seductively round her prey, but I was only able to feel her fingertips as she teased my nipples with strokes and pinches or just stroked my latex suit. For me, the torture of the blindfold is just as real a torture as the nipple clamps I was about to experience.

Mood music was quietly playing and in my sightless state I drifted towards lyrics from Tommy* (well almost anyway).

I'm your wicked Mistress Maggie

I'm glad you won't see or hear me

As I fiddle about

finger fiddle about. . .

Wicked Mistress Maggie applied nipple clamps and was hell bent on testing which ones would make me gasp the most, helped by the plastic bag of course, and when Maggie deemed it necessary, 'another half turn' of the nipple screws increased both the grip and the gasping. Before applying the first set of nipple clamps, Mistress had gently applied a little talc round each exposed bud and I thought how nice Maggie is to her slaves. Hmmm! De-greasing the nipples to provide better grip for those pesky little nipple clamps!. As I said, Maggie plans for everything.

Then a real surprise and treat, although not unprecedented. Maggie climbed inside the plastic bag and appeared to enjoy a little shared restricted breathing with her slave. I tried not to breathe too heavily as I wanted Mistress to remain in such intimate close proximity for as long as possible. I savoured her warm closeness as we gasped, cheek to cheek inside the warming bag. I could taste the air from inside Mistress as she breathed in and out and held the bag tightly shut against both our imprisoned necks.

The difference of that dynamic being that when Maggie had gasped enough, out she emerged with a warm moist glow on her cheeks, whilst I was left increasingly excited, frustrated and feeling a very warm glow inside the bag.

When finally I was let out of the plastic, an O-gag was forced into my mouth and secured with a tight head harness and Mistress used this to yank my head back and produced several large doses of spittle, each accurately deposited down the centre of the gag. I have promised to do anything for my Mistress and these deposits were like little globules of honey as Mistress shared her saliva with her slave.

Leonard Cohen was now moaning quietly away in the background but I couldn't help thinking of another couple of lines from Tommy*.

. . . But tied to that chair you won't go anywhere


There's a lot I can do to a freak. . .

Mistress said I was not gasping enough and would be progressing onto another head trip that would have me open my mouth wider and out came the latex suffocation hood. I was first introduced to this hood during my second saline infusion and there is not a lot of room inside for spare air, but this time Maggie slackened the neck tie to allow just sufficient in for it to be worn for a longer period.

Tension and frustration were really starting to build by this stage, regular nipple clamp tightening continued and once again Maggie's clever planning and attention to detail was evident. Rather mischievously, she attached a vibrator to my slave collar with a short length of playroom rope, switched it on and let it dangle. By judicious bowing and careful aim I could make contact with my lower bits and rattle on the Gates of Hell! Incidentally, contacting a vibrating vibrator on the cock rings plays a most unusual tune as well as rather nice sensations.

Yet more mental torture. I was to follow my orders and bow to Mistress on command. This meant two possible predicaments: Sitting upright, I could just make out Mistress through a haze of amber light through the latex suffocation hood, but the vibrator was then too high to stimulate, or I could bow forward to make contact then only view Mistresses boots through my restricted position and get more pain from the nipple clamps.

I am unsure how many times Maggie commanded me to bow, but I soon learned that it was best to obey quickly, as my left cheek was attracting a lot more unwarranted attention, earning a heavy slap or two whenever I reacted too slowly.

One final change of head and cock gear resulted in Maggie fitting me with the s10 gas mask, along with electrodes to replace the Gates of Hell, but not before I received two very welcome gulps of refreshing, cool water from Maggie, delivered directly into my mouth by my Mistress. She drank but didn’t swallow instead, at very close quarters, touching my lips, spat the cool liquid directly through the opening in my hood and into my mouth. A most efficient method of giving a slave a drink and not a drop was spilled.

I do wish Maggie wouldn’t ask her stupid slave to make decisions about my training. 'What program on the e-stim slave?'. How the hell do I know? I'm only a simple slave and do as I'm told. Two I blurted out and two it was. Perhaps next time I'll be bold and use the untested programs five or even program nine!

Generous to a fault Maggie also changed the nipple clamps. By this time my nipples hurt like hell but at least Maggie appeared amused by my discomfort and I got further visual stimulation through the s10 as Mistress donned her own gas mask hood. What a strangely exciting sight as what was once my stunningly attractive Mistress was transformed into a stunningly attractive alien, and an alien who was in control of the e-stim box to boot.

Program Two started gently, sending a consistent pattern through my genitals for quite a while, then I could feel the pulse being massively ramped-up by Maggie and I was left to wriggle and stew for a couple of minutes whilst my alien Mistress watched her tortured subject from the comfort of the Playroom bed. Mistress decided that it was time to bring the session to a close and she stood next to me and positioned the e-stim controller so I could see the display through the s10. The display showed a bright number 40 and we quietly watched the number changing as Maggie turned the dial and gradually reduced it to zero. I was left shaken, stirred, nipple tortured and thoroughly frustrated with all the unfulfilled excitement.

Even after three days, I can stroke my sensitive nipples, recall another excellent session and raise a storming erection. Mistress Maggie is real good at this slave training job.

* For the uneducated: Tommy is a rock classic by the Who.

Nuts to Needlework

It’s not very often that I have to admit total defeat as to the meaning and intentions behind my calling notice, but for my training session today with Mistress Maggie I was at a loss.

'. . . Mistress is back in a smooth rubber mood and is in need of a lab rat. Usually I would say, ‘Oh, you’ll do’, but I am in need of a particular kind of lab rat. You will be given the predicament of demonstrating your suitability and will need to dance to stand a chance . . .'

I could understand and appreciate the first bit. Even to this stupid slave it was obvious Maggie would be taunting me in one of her latex outfits, many designed and created 'in house' and therefore unique. So far so good. Lab rat: Where could that be going? As for me dancing? I have two left feet and a brain that only functions to Maggie's tune. As I said, I was at a loss.

Enough guesswork, down to the reality of how the session progressed. Mistress was indeed dressed in black latex, tight pants and even tighter black latex top, with just enough of the upper parts of her superb breasts visible, yet with sufficient modesty to keep me salivating. Oh well, at this stage I was still in the dark and could only dream . . .  My first instruction was to engage in preparatory work and worship Maggie’s red boots, all the way up and down, up and down, my tongue accidentally licking the red latex gloves Mistress was wearing as it passed over her knee. Thwack across the backside with the cane and a light hearted warning from Maggie to concentrate on the task I had been given. Worship gave way to the installation of anal toys, I assumed the required position, ass up with my head touching the carpet. I used to worry about Mistress having to struggle to get anything up my arse, but today the fitting went easily and smoothly. Mistress pushed a new toy; a string of anal beads inside me, four hard round orbs roughly the circumference of my own plug, connected together on a semi-rigid string ensuring that they could be teased in, one orb at a time. Maggie laughed as they disappeared and laughed as she pulled each one out from deep up my colon, then in went my butt-plug to be told that was the last time it would see daylight until the end of the session. Oh well, nothing else up there then.

After fitting me into my heavy rubber catsuit came the sensual de-talcing clean, then the first major session surprise. Maggie, in her most sexy voice, told me that my scrotum was going to be stretched and that it was essential that she give me a massage before going any further. I raised an eyebrow and smiled that unknowing grin of 'what?’, Maggie raised an eyebrow and smiled that knowing grin of 'you'll find out', and massage I received. If the rest was to be like this I was in heaven.

I lay restrained spreadeagled on the bondage bed, with only my cock and balls protruding through a small gap in my zip. Mistress eased herself into the V between my legs and dipped her hand into a pot of cocoa butter saying that the butter was good for stretching balls and scrotum's. That massage was heavenly, but with the sinister words about stretching my bollocks still whispering in my ears it stopped all too quickly, and a final rubber oxballs band was applied around my smooth stretched ball sack. 'That's to stop them chaffing’. The implications of those chilling words started to cool my ardour somewhat, and I was still none the wiser about the words in Maggie’s call up mail.

Another unfamiliar piece of equipment was unveiled; a strong leather muzzle. Maggie took her time tightening each strap in turn until it became part of my face and lower jaw. I could still gaze relatively unhindered at my Mistress as she reached over for a length of Playroom rope and passed it through the crown. I was then bent forward with head on carpet, allowing Maggie free but unseen access to my dangling cock and balls. I just crouched there knowing I would do whatever Mistress wanted with little point worrying about what was to come. The room humbler was presented to my limited field of vision before Maggie disappeared behind me, sat between my outstretched legs and fitted the humbler in the traditional position. 

I was still in the dark as Maggie looped the head rope through the ceiling ring and attached the other end to the humbler. All that butter and only this amount of stretching? I suspected something else was to come, but still not sure what it may be. Maggie gave me instruction. ’Rotate clockwise - two turns’. So I did, sliding easily on the rug and dancing a twirl on all fours. A quick photo stop and 'Rotate right and keep going’. It then dawned on me that the more I rotated, the more twisted the suspension ropes became and the tighter the strangle hold on my nuts. With slaps of encouragement from a crop, I went round and round. A stop for more photos and to tidy the dishevelled rug which had become so twisted I was stumbling all over it. ‘More twisting slave. Clockwise round and round please’.

I got to the stage where I was sure my knees momentarily left the ground, which meant all my lower weight would be through my balls and humbler. Now I knew what the predicament in the calling notice meant . . . Keep rotating and stretch my own scrotum.

Maggie instructed me to keep spinning and laughed at the angle of my cock as she took another photo. She said that my dancing needed perfecting and that my version of ‘Twisting the Night Away' required much more twisting. So I did, until eventually I had to stop twisting because I was totally tangled in the twisted rug. Maggie knew I had stretched my balls and was reaching my limit. With the upwards pressure, the muzzle had worked its way from under my chin and now made a most effective blindfold. I was left for a couple of moments and was able to test just how much more I could take. The balls were certainly stretched but the butter and oxballs had done their job and my balls were still attached.

'Right slave. Anti-clockwise please’. I started unwinding far too eagerly and very quickly became dizzy, but I was too well tethered to stand any chance of falling over. Maggie understood the dilemma and relaxed the ropes to allow me freedom without further dancing. With the dancing finished half the calling notice had become clear, but why the lab-rat reference? That too would become all too clear as I was led shakily to the White Room clinic and told to sit on the steps. Mistress unzipped the by now, absolutely wringing wet helmet replacing it with a comfortable and dry gas mask. I sat quietly on the steps and gazed at Mistress as she gently towelled my face dry, applied a little talc to chin and cheeks with an 'eyes shut slave' command as she pulled the tight rubber mask over my head. I was told to make sure it was comfortable for long-term use as there would be no removal until the operation was complete. Operation! That's all I could think of as I lay back on the couch with the white straps securing me in place.

Maggie explained that I was to have surgery and asked if I had ever received stitches. 'Not that I can remember Mistress'. After Maggie once more confirmed that I was happy to continue she mentioned ‘It’s a shame that you never had stitches, you won't have the pleasure of remembering how horribly painful they are . . .  another first then . . .  without anaesthetic as well . . .  spread out like a lab rat for the operation’. At least I was to be allowed a little aroma to help me relax in preparation for my op; a long rubber hose was produced and screwed onto the front of my gas mask, connecting me to the gas stations’ aroma system. Through the limited vision of the gas-mask I was just able to see Mistress preparing a hypodermic. A little squirt to prime the needle and then Maggie disappeared from sight and a moment later asked if I was still all right to continue? Affirmative and then 'just a little prick now'. I wasn't sure if that was reference to my cock and balls or the fact that within a second, I felt the needle enter my cock just below the top and I actually felt the contents being injected inside the foreskin. A really strange feeling and not unpleasant as the liquid spread out inside. *See Footnote* At that point I was at peace knowing that I was receiving exactly what I wanted. Total and absolute control and ownership by Mistress Maggie; free to do to her lab-rat whatever she wished, knowing that I was at a point where I would consent to anything.

Another formality as Maggie again sought authority to continue. Not necessary, but Maggie wanted me to be sure. My cock and particularly my pre-stretched scrotum were through the red rubber operating sheet and the aroma dispenser neatly tucked under its flap. The time had come. Maggie arranged some instruments on her trolley and I was told to keep still as she took her suture pack, extracted the needle and in went the first stitch. Maggie's first stitch as well on a real live lab rat. She purred that she had practised on synthetic flesh on numerous occasions, but now felt ready to practise her stitches on a real life lab-rat and perfect her techniques. I would have thanked her for choosing me, but the very sharp prick as the curved needle entered my scrotum somewhat took my breath away.

It was a while before Maggie was satisfied with her first stitch, her motions accompanied with mutterings about '. . . next time I'll use a white sheet . . .   can't see the suture against a red background. . .  now where’s the other end gone. . .'  I just lay there concentrating on her instructions to keep my cock flaccid. Normally when Mistress says that and handles my balls, I find it really difficult to keep it under control, but today no such problem. Perhaps it was the contents of the hypo?  *See Footnote* Was it some form of muscle relaxant? or was it just the enormity of my operation that prevented an erection?

After the first stitch, the second was much easier for Maggie. Still a little slow for an accomplished seamstress but altogether more effective, the stitch completed without any sign of frustration from Maggie. The third went in easier still, and the disturbing thing from my perspective was that I think Maggie was starting to enjoy her needlework. A little song floating out from somewhere out of sight, followed by another pump of the aroma and a cheery 'you alright up there?' The sutures were sufficient for three large stitches and Maggie wasn't prepared to stop there - she had got the lab-rat sewing bug! How could I say no as she patted my balls and asked if I was ready for another three? Retrieving a second sterile suture pack from the store cupboard, Maggie made short work of the next three stitches; in fact, the last one was in and out so quickly that I asked where the second part of the stitch was, only to be told in a rather pleased sounding voice 'all done’.

I wasn't sure exactly what had been stitched to where, and it wasn't until I saw the pictures that I realised why my scrotum needed to be stretched and tenderised. I had totally lost my ball-sack and most of my penis had been stitched inside the scrotum. No wonder Maggie was laughing as she posed for the final pictures.

What a transformation in Mistress Maggie. I detected a note of pride in her voice as she described her needlework and even detected a note of satisfaction with her lab-rat for allowing her to perfect her sewing skills on a real live rat. What next. 'Shall I leave the stitches in? That should stop you playing with yourself. . .  Mistress relented, carefully cutting and removing each of the six stitches in turn and placed them on a tray, saying once again 'Next time I'll use a bloody white pvc sheet!' Next time! Oh well such is the life of a lab rat and now the calling notice made complete sense.

OK, what did it feel like to have my scrotum sewed? No more irritation than when I had 26 needles stuck down the length of my shaft. In fact there were far less insertions although one or two made me jump. The occasional brief sharp prick as the curved needle encountered a little more resistance from a tough bit of scrotum but nothing more. The act of drawing the thread through the stitch was totally painless; the nylon slipping easily through, following the needle easily and smoothly. I had the sensation that my scrotal sack was becoming much tighter. I laughed at my own predicament as Maggie mused that her artistry looked like a mole or a rat and was relieved when she refrained from tattooing a nose and eyes on the end of my foreskin just to make it look more rat-like. I was absolutely delighted that Maggie was happy with her handy work and relieved that Maggie did relent and remove the sutures.

Would I go through it again? Absolutely. If Mistress feels the need for more needlework or tapestry work, although Maggie has perfected her technique and certainly does not need further practise. Anyway, when I enter the chambers, I do become the property of Mistress Maggie, so what’s a little extra tapestry or needle work between Mistress and her slave?

And how did Maggie get the idea of sewing up my balls?  I was the architect for my own operation. Some time ago I had favoured a Flickr picture depicting exactly what Mistress produced with my balls; a photo of a gentleman with his ball sack sewn together. Maggie has a habit of producing what you wish for, so be warned, your wildest fantasies may well become your wildest reality.

________________

*Footnote* I had been chatting via e-mail with Mistress after the session just to clarify some of the minor details of  the session when this mail arrived from Mistress Maggie:

'...I sit here with the corners of my mouth more than slightly raised, as I found your report on the injection I gave you most enlightening, and I am guessing that you still have had no bad reaction to the jab. But then, why would you have any side effects resulting from the contents of an empty syringe? Those two little dots on your cock head show where the needle went in and where it came out at the other side. Any injection you had last Friday was a total figment of your warped lab-rat imagination, your devious Mistress just took you on a merry dance!...'

Don't you find it really strange what tricks your mind can be duped into playing on you when you are deep in the zone and completely under your Mistresses power? It also seems that Mistress controls my mind as well as all my body when I arrive in the chambers.

Perhaps it means I am becoming a better slave?

Latex, Latex and more Latex

Today, as the title suggests, was to be a latex themed session. Mistress Maggie knows her slave is partial to a bit, or rather a lot, of latex and was going to treat her slave today. Now, you will already know if you have read my blog that Mistress doesn't confine her activities to just what her slaves 'like'. Not at all. After all I am there to be trained towards becoming the 'perfect' slave to a perfect Mistress and the old adage that there is 'No pain, No gain' should be emblazoned across The Playroom wall.

Mistress greeted me at the front door and ushered me in. I was half expecting a hood straight on in the hallway, but fortunately I was allowed unrestricted views of my stunning Mistress. The skimpy, tight, figure hugging latex briefs with an attached dildo wagging in my direction as Maggie moved, cat-like around her prey. I recognised the figure hugging tight pewter coloured latex top that so accentuates her superb figure and as we progressed upstairs I was treated to a back view that was equally as stunning. By the time I reached the top of the stairs I was ready once again to do absolutely anything for my Mistress.

The Playroom revealed The Plank securely attached, almost vertically, to the overhead gantry. No attempt at disguise; no towel over the equipment to heighten the mystery. That would have been difficult with The Plank being 7 foot long and a foot wide of highly polished wood. At least I wasn't going to be made to walk the plank; too steep for that. I listened very attentively as I always do to the outline of the session, latex and endurance were the overriding words that I heard but, I knew the 'no pain no gain' mantra would surface at some point.

I returned from the bathroom dressed in opera gloves and my new ankle length toe socks. A separate little 'piggy' for each toe. Mistress had instructed me to bring them but I took the decision to attend wearing them under my normal socks. It can be a bit of a struggle if you are putting them on under pressure. Two toes in the same socket, left sock on right foot etc, so I was able to return to Mistress dressed, in no time at all. Mistress as always, called me in, in response to my knocking and was sitting serenely on her throne waiting for her slave to start proceedings and worship her feet. A simple but attractive pair of black high heels accentuated with white soles. Strange combination but very attractive from my vantage point. Mistresses shoes did mean I was restricted to feet only, as I am not allowed to stray from the footwear unless guided by Mistress. I was really going to be pampered today and was treated to an extended allowance of foot worship; the occasional stroke of her leg with the side of my head hoping Mistress wouldn't tell me off but always obeying the rules of only contact with mouth, lips and tongue on her footwear.

Even though my thick black latex suit is chlorinated, it does glide on more easily with a spot of talc and I must say the sensation of being polished and cleaned by Mistress is another one of those serene, relaxing moments. Legs apart, arms to side as Maggie plays the soft cloth all over your latex clad body. The ripples as she touches your sensitive areas . . . I digress. Back to session.

I was to wear a 'toga'. Not an ordinary, simple Roman one unless the Romans made heavy weight black latex togas and come to think of it, not really a 'toga' either. It was a huge, thick chlorinated black latex sheet, doubled up to make it extra thick. It was entertaining and amusing to watch as Mistress imposed her will on a very mobile, slippery and quite heavy sheet and then wrapped it tightly round my chest. I did my bit by holding one edge in place under an arm as Mistress stretched it tightly round chest and torso, to be fixed with a long length of black Playroom rope just below my nipple line. Mistress checked that she could get to my nipple zips. Ah, the no pain no gain theme.

Then the hood. A really stretchy, really comfortable, perfectly fitting black latex little number. No zip required, with perforations at eyes and mouth. I could see and I could breath comfortably. The view of my Mistress was like gazing through a honeycomb and for a fleeting moment I thought the Queen Bee was about to devour one of her drones. I was manoeuvred back to the plank and gingerly lent backwards. I needn't have worried. Maggie is thorough in her planning and safety is always a high priority. There was a little sway as The Plank adjusted to my weight then settled until it felt safe and solid. I was there with back to plank and the whole of my front from chest downwards, a smooth black, shining rubber sheet. I was beginning to feel the heat but today I was going to get a lot, lot warmer.

Forever thoughtful for her slave, Mistress applied the penultimate part of my dressing; the black leather wrist mitts that so effectively make your hands into useless stubby stumps and assist the slave to keep his hands out of mischief. Maggie is always thinking of ways to assist her slaves to become a better object or plaything to her. The final item was a high posture collar. I have worn this in the past and today I was really relaxed as it was buckled tightly in place. I was just able to gaze at Mistress as she prepared the final items to keep her slave happy. I was expertly, quickly and comfortably roped to the plank at elbows, wrists and ankles. Nothing else required. The arms were useless and the legs were not going anywhere. To exaggerate my predicament Mistress was saying how cool she was in her skimpy latex shorts and top and quite deliberately taunting her slave. I knew I was getting a little warm inside my rubber and was about to get much hotter! Mistress made it quite obvious that she was concerned that I was not warm enough and without waiting for my reply turned up the Playroom heater a couple of notches. How very thoughtful.

On went the blindfold and that was that. Maggie left me and I have no idea as to how long. I was totally in the dark, heating up nicely and in complete silence. I think I heard the Playroom door open and close against the carpet. I strained to hear another sound but nothing. Did I hear a slight movement as Mistress checked her slave? Did I detect the faint movement of air in the Playroom? Was I on my own? Nothing actually mattered as I could visualise my Mistress and I would  stay there just because Mistress wanted me to. I was getting warmer and warmer and the act of leaning against the plank was generating quite a lot of sweat inside my rubber prison and I was loving every minute knowing that I would be released when or if Mistress wanted to release me otherwise I would stay just where I was.
I did hear the door open quietly and the blindfold came off. The vision I could once more see through my honeycomb was, exactly as I remembered before my enforced solitude. As to how long. Still no idea, and anyway, time was irrelevant. All that mattered was being there still at Mistresses beck and call. I was de-planked and allowed a moment to lie on the floor at Maggie's feet to recover from the heat ordeal, wet inside but peaceful.

Peace and tranquillity never last long when you are training and Maggie soon had me hogtied with another length of black rope. No ordinary hog tie and no let up from the all embracing latex 'toga'. Knees up, sheet wrapped round enclosing legs and feet and then attached to arms. I began to get this nagging doubt again that a little more 'no pain no gain' was about to come my way. Maggie moved about three feet away, showed me a very attractive nylon covered leg and then suggested I might like to 'get over here’. No second bidding required and I set off . . . and of course stopped because I was trussed up like a turkey. Not to be denied the opportunity of more contact with my Mistresses shoeless feet, I struggled and grunted and wobbled and slithered and sweated until I was right next to those red painted toe nails. I did manage to poke the very end of my tongue through the mouth honeycomb and was just able to make contact with her nylon covered feet. If I wasn't sweating before, I was now but it was well worth the superhuman effort.

Content with my effort at addressing her toes, Mistress released me from the hog-tie and scooped the hem of the 'toga' over my head, pinioning my arms across my chest and enclosing my head inside a very heavy weight latex sack. It was a very strange and somewhat unnerving experience. I have willingly endured the same treatment with a clear plastic bag for quite a long period, perhaps because I can see Mistress, but with the blackness of the inside of the rubber sheet, the air seemed to be used up far quicker than in a plastic bubble. It was like being in a cave miles underground, unable to see anything and your oxygen running out and I think I panicked a little. Mistress had me out in no time but I was a little embarrassed that I was such a wimp particularly as I was totally enclosed in my favourite latex.
No sooner was I released from my sack, I was on the bed, zip opened and butt plug removed. A very rare enforced slight change of plan. Mistress was going to deploy the pump up butt-plug but try as she may the damn thing appeared to be seated but as it was inflated, out it popped and we just couldn't get it to do as it was told. Fortunately Mistress saw the funny side and did not punish me for the embarrassed laughter as each time it just plopped out. I think it was because I was lying rather ungainly on my side, unable to present Maggie with a good entry angle for the balloon.

Nothing phases Mistress and I was strung back up onto the plank with a quick change of hood as I was starting to swim inside the honeycomb mask with all the sweat I was generating. Hmmm the pump up gag still encouraged me to expel bodily fluids as I tried desperately hard not to look down and dribble all over Mistress as she busied herself exposing cock and balls, securing the 'toga' out of the way and, rather uncomfortably, attaching clamps to my balls and roping them to The Plank.

I don't think Maggie appreciated the prospect of slave drooling all over her nice pewter coloured latex top and removed the pump up gag and replaced it with the spider gag. It didn't stop my drooling but it was all down the front of my suit and not all over Maggie. It also gave her free access to my nipples which were given a right good going over. Sharp finger nails, even sharper teeth and my poor little buttons were starting to feel like over used rotary dials. I was surprised afterwards that I had any nipples attached by the amount of treatment they received. However, I was determined to grin and bear it because Maggie appeared to be getting quite a bit of enjoyment from making her slave squirm which in turn, tightened up the ropes attaching my balls to the plank which it turn . . . bit of a vicious circle developing here. I like pleasing my Mistress, Mistress likes teasing her slave which jiggles my balls which in turn further encourages Maggie to pay more attention to my nipples which in turn . . . and so it went on.

It wasn't quite the end as Maggie is determined to keep my ass hole nice and open for her future use and enjoyment. I was strapped face down on the low padded bench and finished off with another good dildoing. What a day. Has my ordeal in rubber diminished my liking for the material? No way. I love the feeling. Has my endurance training enhanced my devotion to a superb Mistress? Yes way. I had several times during today's session where I could just relax (sort of) and luxuriate in the image of a superb Mistress and friend.

Cooking by Candle Power

By coincidence, in the morning whilst I was waiting impatiently for the time to leave home for my afternoon session with Mistress Maggie, I was on a blog extolling the virtues of the discipline Mistress had instilled into me during my training, to always present myself in well shaved, hairless form. The original reason Mistress gave was to encourage better electrical contact for the electrodes. Today provided an equally valid but different reason for hairlessness.

The session was scheduled at a nice easy pace, giving me time to admire Maggie as she moved purposefully and gracefully fitting my butt plug and selecting and fitting a tight but comfortable latex hood. Boot worship and a little personal space cleaning got the session off to a superb start. It was going to be one of those sessions Maggie so frequently delivers; humour, improvisation when required and quite simply a Mistress in absolute top form. Right from the first moment when Mistress raised the back of her skirt and instructed me to lick and clean her behind, Mistress had a smile on her cheeks and I just knew something amazing and unusual was imminent.

I thought very briefly that it was strange that the shaggy white rug was absent, but then my attention was required to putting on a pair of ballet boots and we moved on from the missing rug. I was allowed some banter with Mistress about using the boots' side zips and just like last time I wore them, Maggie mentioned that I wouldn't be able to run away or in fact even stand in the boots. As soon as I said "I bet I could stand" I thought I had gone too far as the comment may be construed as insolent, but Maggie insisted I stay on my knees and get ready to have my endurance well tested. 

A couple of rope belts were hitched firmly but comfortably round my waist, followed by two shorter lengths either side of the waist left dangling for later use. I was instructed to lie in the space where the rug should have been, underneath the suspension unit. It felt strange with no furry rug tickling my back. The tight nipple clamps were more than tickling my nipples. Maggie tightened them to maximum and they were not coming off. A similar pair were attached to balls and both were strung over the suspension unit and something painful was starting to happen. It got more painful as the waist ropes were attached to the suspension unit and raised enough to put a little pressure on my back. I then caught the briefest of glimpses of a simple candle attached to the strings keeping my nipples tight. Mistress most helpfully said not to worry as this was part of my endurance training and smiled sweetly as she lit the candle at both ends, then did the same with a second candle that I couldn't see suspended above my cock and balls. I wish someone would remind Maggie that burning the candle at both ends is definitely not good for a slave.

Bloody hell, that hurt. When each drop of hot wax splashed home, I shook and released another flood of molten pain. Maggie thought I wasn't wobbling enough. Too flaming right. I was trying to keep as still as possible, but to encourage her slave and to generate a bit more mirth for Maggie my waist was hoisted a few more inches off the floor. That worked. I got quite a few very hot wax showers. This was the second reason why it is good to be totally hairless when visiting Maggie. The wax coated cock, balls, nipples and chest with a thick layer that would have depilated every hair it came in contact with. It also explained why the fluffy rug was absent. Wax on a thick pile carpet is a devil to remove. I am constantly amazed by the amount of planning that goes into these sessions even the simplest detail of removing the rug had been considered.

Mistress announced that she was pleased with my performance and that I had passed the endurance test. I had been determined not to disappoint Maggie by begging her to extinguish the candles and my perseverance paid off with a most radiant smile, a well done slave and the most delightful kiss for her flambé'd slave. Mistress gave me a good stiff brushing to remove the widespread wax pools from my skin, bits of wax went everywhere, exactly where the white rug would have been.

As I said, Maggie was in absolutely sparkling form and was prepared to improvise and she invited me to join her on the landing. Pointing to the bannister Mistress instructed me to stand and use it as a ballet bar, after all I was wearing ballet boots. I struggled onto my feet making a passable attempt at standing but acknowledged Mistress was right, as always, and we agreed I would need far more practise in the boots before I could even stand let alone walk. Back on my knees I was instructed to return the ballet boots to their box, then I fetched the vacuum and made short work of cleaning the Playroom floor. Even though I say so myself, I now make a passable cleaner for Maggie.

Back to the script and on with my training. Out came my own plug and in went a larger, vibrating version. Before switching on the plug Mistress retrieved the bondage cushion and the largest plastic bag I had ever seen. The intention was to seal me inside and tie me to the cushion.

All going fine until I started sweating and I kept slip sliding away inside the bag. I don't think it was helped by the cling film Mistress used to secure the vibrators batteries. We settled for Maggie strapping hands and feet to the bag.

A lot of huffing and puffing followed as Maggie alternated between sucking air out of the bag and blowing air in so I ended up like a vac-pac then a balloon.

This amused Maggie for a while. Mistress knows exactly how much air to remove from the bag and how long I could be left before I would start to gasp and plead for a little air. After all, it would have been most inappropriate after all her hard work, if I suddenly panicked and had to be cut out! I have much faith in Mistresses abilities and trust her implicitly. That was not going to happen.

When I received this picture, I just had to include it in my blog. It shows the most gentlest of gestures from Maggie. In particular, my blown up head gently cradled between my Mistresses thighs. Obviously I could not see but I knew how close my balloon was to Maggie. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace at this point. Safely wrapped in my air-tight plastic, with my head firmly yet oh so comfortably cradled.

All the pain of the hot wax now forgotten.

This gentle moment couldn't last of course. This little unscripted gem had to end, unfortunately, as Mistress referred back to her comprehensive session plan.

Plans required me to move from lying on the cushion to sitting on the low stool that Maggie moved to a convenient position close by. This almost created my first and only natural disaster of the session. I felt the most excruciating cramps starting in my calves as I stood up. Fortunately, as I flopped quickly and painfully on to the bench with a groan of agony the cramps went, just as quickly as they had started. Maggie as always was concerned with her slave experiencing any pain she had not orchestrated, relaxed as I reassured her I was now fine for the final part of training. It was touching afterwards that Mistress again showed her gentler side by e-mailing me about her concerns over my cramp as she thought I may have understated how much pain I was actually in. I had been honest with Maggie during the session. It is a lot safer that way.

The final part of the session involved a topic dear to most English people. The weather. I was advised that I needed a little climactic conditioning in an environment more suited to England following my recent holiday abroad. Ah, the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

With me comfortably seated, the sweat coated plastic slid easily round my torso to provide a huge ruff of plastic round my neck that Maggie used to good advantage to save spillage of the predicted heavy shower. I could  make out through the already misting plastic that Mistress was preparing a jug or two of nice warm liquid and I looked forward to a good drink as I was already sweating.

Maggie had no plans for her slave to drink as she produced and filled a pink, yes fixated with pink, watering can bought just for her slave. Once again, she can be a real softy towards her slaves and did I see the funny side as Maggie spread the top of the plastic and would insist on saying things like "hows the rain, petal" and "you all right in there flower?" as she watered away. Sometimes Maggie's sense of humour goes over my head but in this case it was the warm pee that trickled from the can that went over my head. I did catch a few welcome drops but the intention was to increase the humidity inside the bag.

Maggie created a low pressure weather system by pumping out some of the air and then sealed me inside, with instructions that I was to last 10 minutes without embarrassing myself. The conditions were decidedly warm and humid inside and as the plastic misted up, helped by the warm wine, I began to be once again acclimatised to the Season of Mists . . .

Did I last those 10 minutes? Maggie thrust the room vibrator in my slippery hands and alternated between helping me press it into my groin and then into her groin; the air was getting thin, breathing was increasingly difficult and it was like peering through a thick mist. I could only see Maggie when really close as she gave me a gentle kiss through my steamy weather bag. Yes 10 minutes of endurance training was passed; just!

Water Sports

As happens, being a humble and frequently stupid slave, I had disappointed Mistress Maggie with a rather unfortunate web posting. I had posted her special website update under the wrong thread. Her annoyance was obvious from the e-mails that Mistress fired at me in rather quick succession. “ . . . I was so annoyed that I couldn’t type fast enough . . . " I tried to rectify my mistake but the damage had been done. I had been really stupid and careless and I was told in no uncertain terms “ . . . I am still annoyed slave, the whole thing is so embarrassing. You will suffer for it." Oh well the die was cast and it came as no surprise when my calling e-mail contained the following: “ . . . Your punishment for stupidity will be carried out on arrival, very quickly with no warm up." That to me meant a good caning for my indiscretion. Straight in, pants down, whack whack whack . . .

Maggie looked fantastic as always, dressed in black and red rubber leotard, stockings and long gloves, she clipped on the lead and led me to my caning. First I was asked to present myself for my punishment wearing my smallest pair of shorts. So far no surprises as I was fixed by wrist shackles to the wooden bondage chair in a suitable position with legs apart, head down, heavy iron collar padlocked round my neck, a metal hook inserted in my bum which in turn was attached by rope to the collar that Maggie fitted. A yank on the rope and my head was forced backwards, in fact just right for a few thwacks of my deserving punishment.

But Maggie did not come up behind me with a cane, she appeared with a half full bucket of water and parked it on the seat in front of me, and topped it up from another container and finally, generous amounts of ice cubes added for good measure. Even for a punishment, that was far too much for me to drink and certainly represented a HUGE enema! Then it hit me. I had fallen hook (up my arse), line (from collar to anal plug and sinker (me sunk in the bucket). No warm up - of course! Mistress verified this declaring that “ . . . Stupidness wont be tolerated and you will learn your lesson with a bout of medieval punishment. You will be ducked, head held fully submersed three times”. Mistress pushed my head into the bucket, using the rope to raise my dripping head out of the water between dunks for a total of three times. I was relieved to avoid the cane but shocked and totally surprised by the cold alternative. After completing the punishment, Maggie, true to her word as always, then returned to normal service for the remaining part of the session.

I was given a towel and stood in front of the room fan to dry off before having a snug black hood zipped in place, there to stay for the rest of the session. Time for devotion and my attention was directed to the black rubber boots Mistress was wearing. I was also secretly pleased with the cooling water as the remnants trickled down my back and I did confess to Maggie afterwards that, but for the water ingress up my nose, I quite enjoyed my punishment on such a hot day.

Dried and hooded, I was led through to the Clinic where Mistress was going to use ‘experimental therapy’ to assist with preventing my premature climaxes that I had experienced in the previous sessions. No need to watch my language, Maggie attached the very effective penis shaped rubber gag. Effective but capable of being worn for extended periods once you have adjusted it inside your mouth. I wasn't complaining anyway. Mistress has a plan and I am always happy just to go with the flow of a good plan. Maggie suggested I should be circumcised and was about to mark a cutting line, a series of clamps were attached to retract my foreskin, my good luck that the clamps and my foreskin were not compatible, the clamps were quick to fall off and I managed to escape with my foreskin bitten but still intact. Maggie proceeded to apply her newly acquired ball clamps, essential in getting a really good grip on my unruly balls and squeezing everything out. Two squeezing ball clamps, one to each ball. I didn't say anything, and thank goodness for the gag but the clue as to why two of the clamps insisted on heading floor-wards may be in the name; nipple clamps not foreskin or cock clamps. I probably shouldn't write that!

To help the operation, Mistress applied a little e-stim. Electrode round cock and balls and one down the centre; set at program 7 level 17 to give a nice wash and tumble dry. Forever thoughtful of her slaves needs, Maggie enclosed my head in the opaque feeder hood and provided some frozen pee cubes in the funnel to help keep me hydrated. It takes a while for the cubes to melt even in the heat of the clinic and every now and then I got a delicious gulp of chilled wine whilst the wash and dry program worked down below. Mistress appeared happy but did say that I was to control myself for another half hour to confirm the therapy had worked.

And that was that. White hood removed, ball clamps removed (anti-clockwise to undo clamps, it’s wise to remember that otherwise Maggie will give a few mischievous clockwise tightening turns), electrics removed, gag removed whilst retaining the original black hood. I eased myself gently off the couch and Mistress led the way back to the Playroom.

OK now to check if the operation has been successful. Ten minutes and Mistress had me lightly tied to the rubber bed and draped the black rubber sheet from toes to chin, tucking me in quite snugly and proceeded to tease and gently taunt me with her evocative rubber ensemble. OK so far.

Twenty minutes and Maggie upped the anti by slithering and sliding all over me whilst I was getting a little warmer under the sheet. Still OK but I was beginning to wonder if I could restrain myself.

Thirty minutes and Maggie was letting her red panties get intimately acquainted with my nose whilst checking my cocks progress through two thick rubber layers. I think the operation may prove to be less than 100% effective because Maggie is very persuasive when in that mood.

Thirty one minutes and seven seconds (approximately) . . .  oh shit. The operation appears to have been only partially successful. I did resist for thirty minutes, but only just.

First Picture

I am very pleased with the picture of me during Session 5.

This is the first time that Mistress Maggie had agreed to my request and had taken a couple of pictures.

The bondage chair is typical of the well thought out, flexible and durable equipment that Maggie has at her disposal in the playroom. Not immediately obvious is the hole in the centre of the seat to allow cock and balls to be accessed below. Also not immediately obvious, the broom handle that you see attached just below my  knees, is attached by cord to my private parts. (You now see the relevance of the hole in the seat). Wiggle your legs and the dangly bits wiggle as well. You know you really need to keep your legs still, but that is easier said than done!

Thumbs were simply but very efficiently attached to two of the many securing rings, and the final part of the bindings were the rubber bandages keeping my arms in the bent position. Rubber bandages were also used to form a most effective blindfold and my only breathing was via the two pink tubes that are just visible.

After five sessions, I know I made the right decision in late September and intend many more sessions while I am still young enough to enjoy the experiences.