Another Major Milestone

I believe we reached and passed another major milestone in my quest to become as near a perfect slave to Mistress Maggie as I can achieve. I appreciate that what I am about to recount may appear arse before elbow so to speak, but for me the move to suggesting session content is a major, MAJOR shift in my relationship with my Mistress. In all the previous 198 sessions I have asked that Maggie has absolute carte blanch over what she wants to do with her slave and have marvelled at her imagination and ingenuity in each and every session. 

Today in our preliminary chat, I asked my owner the simple question.

‘What can I do to help become a better slave?’, and back came the equally simple response.

‘More input would be a help. Tell me what you want in a session slave.'

I appreciate that some may suggest that I should have been doing that for all our encounters as 'he who pays the piper....' but our relationship has never been in that plane. I thought about that a lot during this session as I had plenty of time 'in the dark' so to speak. Put simply, I now have the dilemma of suggesting some of my deeper thoughts and fantasies to the person who I know will attempt to put them into practice, or not as the case may be. Maggie will, as always, have the flexibility to do whatever she wants but knows I won’t be complaining if she reproduces my desires in our future sessions.

Today's session started in a normal manner and I had no inkling of the magnitude of what was about to happen to my mind and its commitment to my Mistress. I knew it would be a red latex day as the calling mail suggested I should bring my red catsuit, and it was likely that I would be in The Clinic because Maggie told me she alternates venues.

Maggie as always looked stunning in her flesh coloured catsuit that she had made herself, teamed with thigh length red vinyl boots, red waist cincher, a long cream apron (another of Maggie’s creations), topped off with a cream face hugging cowl and fair pony tail.

It was a hard thing not to bury my nose in those rather wonderful bum cheeks as we climbed the stairs to the playroom, with Maggie occasionally stopping abruptly on our ascent. Why was I that close? Well I really didn't want Maggie to trip on her flowing apron so I volunteered to hold it off the steps. 

With my red latex gloves on I was to proceed with the worshipful caressing of Mistress’ long shiny boots, then told to stand and don my red latex catsuit which had been nicely warming on the rubber bed and was prepped for the next stage: the anal invasion. Today, Mistress was going to insert her rather large electric anal plug which I've had the pulsating pleasure of wearing on a couple of occasions, but despite deployment of copious amounts of lube it was proving somewhat gruelling to install. Maggie as always, aware of those minor slave discomforts used my own pointier butt plug as a pathfinder for the heavy bomber. It has roughly the same girth when fully inserted but the crucial difference is that by being tapered it gently eases the muscles, whereas the electrode is a full on, cock shaped round ended large diameter... Anyway it worked, the electrode was in all the way to the hilt and most comfortable too.

Naturally, Maggie tested its effectiveness which led to some apprehension regarding the positioning of the toy, as surprisingly I was able to tolerate, even enjoy, the feeling right to the maximum 99 setting on the e-stim box! ‘That’s definitely not normal’ she said, and rather wisely decided not to leave it at max, just in case any movement gave a better electric circuit and all of a sudden the jolt sent me through the roof, if I wasn't strapped to the couch of course!

I was led, literally with Maggie's dog lead, through to the Clinic, where with a firm hand on my chest she pushed me towards the wall. The layout looked interesting with the head restrainer already attached to the couch. Although not unusual, the two intertwined bundles of white rope that also occupied the couch intrigued me, as Mistress would normally use the couch straps for restraint.

I was to remain standing as Mistress had me cross my arms with one wrist grabbing the other. The use for the ropes now became crystal clear. Maggie neatly wrapped one of the ropes several times around my lower forearms rendering them nothing more than an incumbrance. A little time was spent on the aesthetics of the situation, making sure as always that her slave looked pleasing to the eye. I of course stood there, a few inches from the face of my Goddess as I watched in awe at the power she held over this willing slave. It really is a wonder to behold to watch those beautiful eyes at close quarters as she concentrated on creating a neat white roped frontage. Once complete a second binding was made, allowing my arms to be rigidly attached at the chest.

Carefully, and with a steadying hand from Maggie I eased myself onto the middle of the couch placing my head into the head immobiliser to check position and comfort, then sat up to have my medicinal inhalation tubing installed. The last time Maggie had attempted to use a nasal cannula I got my breathing all wrong; I just couldn't master the art of in and out through my nose. Anyway, this time Maggie gave me strict instructions NOT to use my mouth and otherwise to breath normally. To help the cannula stay in position the tubes were looped behind both ears, under the chin and kept in position with surgical tape. It was comfortable to wear and easy to breathe with, even with my mouth firmly closed, and once Mistress was satisfied that I was managing the equipment satisfactorily, a suitable hood was the next stage of preparation.

Mistress chose the cream double walled hood. The perforations across the eyes do restrict vision considerably, but I have learned that with a slight move of the head I can catch the occasional glimpse of my Mistress. I always like to be able to see Maggie as she is such a stunning beauty, however, once my head was back in the vice, any movement was virtually impossible.

The cannula tube was fed through the zipped opening at the mouth and worked a treat for aroma delivery, all the while the steady, rhythmic pumping of the cannula pump maintained a regular flow of air to my nose. 

When it was time to take my medicine Maggie would warn me to breathe out, then a faint hiss followed as she squeezed the aromas bulb and the next breath I took provided a welcome infusion of relaxing vapours, delivered along with the fresh air. I am so pleased that I had successfully managed the cannula pump, it’s steady almost silent drone was as calming as the aromas it delivered, and certainly added to the all round ambience of my clinical treatment. 

Couch straps are never forgotten and Maggie was pulling them tight once again, to keep her patient where she wanted, with my head secured in the immobiliser, bound up at Maggie's mercy (or lack of).

Maggie brought out a bottle of cocoa butter and began applying it to my scrotal area; she says it is to make the area more pliable and stretchy to accommodate saline, whereas I just think it a wonderful experience having the very experienced hands of the perfect woman gently massaging my balls. Who knew I would ever love cocoa butter? - Simply heaven! 

I think I was in reasonably good books with my owner, as I had no difficulty with the cannula and didn't complain at all as she carefully inserted a different kind of cannula into my ball sac to proceed with the scrotal inflation. After a few moments when the saline was flowing steadily, Maggie closed the zip up on the front of the hood and I was plunged into darkness, although I wasn't. The hood obviously precludes any vision but the latex is thin enough to allow a strange and eerie cream light through. I could breathe easily so all was well in my very limited world. Every now and then Maggie would stroke a bit of her slave, dole out another puff of aromas, and with her latex gloved hands monitored the progress of my balls as they increased in size.

I wondered why Maggie had paid so much attention to sterilising and roping my cock and balls separately but found out when she inserted a needle at the end of the foreskin. I didn't know it at the time, but it wasn’t just my balls that would be receiving 500ml, she also had plans to inject two full syringes into the foreskin and now informed me, ‘You will feel a little prick!’

A second saline line went into my scrotum as the original was starting to drip a little slowly and once inserted Maggie sounded overjoyed with the flow levels once again. Of course, I couldn't see my owners reaction to the two separate inflations, but I did hear that delightful laugh as Maggie commented on how... odd... my groin area looked. It had obviously  tickled her fancy and that was music to my ears.

A big laugh for my Mistress!

Some may think it odd that being restrained on a couch with limited cream vision, with my head rigidly held, and having two simultaneous saline infusions to my nether regions would have me deliriously happy with my situation, but I was. The solitude gave me time to reflect on my new promise to Maggie; to provide her with some ideas for future sessions, and I had come up with a couple of general ideas one of which I articulated when the hood front was unzipped. 'How about total rubber isolation where I was standing in several layers of latex...' That seemed to do the trick as Maggie was already indicating some of the 'add ons' that she could do to her slave. Oh well, it’s out in the open now, Maggie will have a field day and there is no way that I can complain.

The session wasn't yet over, as I was released from the head harness with instructions to shuffle so my arse was over the end of the couch and my legs were raised high in the stirrups. That can only mean one thing. Mistress would allow me the privilege of a good pegging. Out came the butt plug that had been keeping me company since the Playroom insertion, Maggie stood by me donning her strap on, the couch was adjusted to the right height and... no more embellishment. As Maggie had the electric box handy, in went an electrode down my cock and away it went. Pulse pulse pulse.  

In went Mistress' strap on and I enjoyed such a fantastic experience. My ginormous inflated balls were bouncing up and down and being slapped by Maggie as she pounded my arse, the electrified sound was zinging deep inside me, my inflated foreskin seemed to be gripping and sucking the sound further inside and although I only had perforated vision of my Mistress I thought I was in heaven with Maggie as my angel. Well, I thought I had cum; all my body said I had cum and gave me the signs that I once again had ejaculated, yet strangely, Mistress said there were no external signs of any dribbling.

I hope I hadn't disappointed Mistress Maggie by not squirting my juices all over, but on the positive side no mess to have to clean up. I do know that some of my fantasies are inappropriate, against the Rules and will never be attainable, but it doesn't stop those thoughts. After all, a red blooded slave can dream.

Where to Today Mistress?

After the myriad of questions rolling around before our last session, there was only one question of interest today. In what direction would Mistress Maggie want my training to go in todays training? I must admit to feeling on much more familiar territory. We were back to our Friday slot as was most often the case before the Covid crisis, and I felt so relaxed after our first session for 15 months that the question which really interested me was, where to today? On many previous occasions Maggie has given a hint, sometimes a big hint in her confirmatory mail as to what she had planned for the upcoming session; not today. The only sniff was that I needed to pack my red catsuit, my red accessories and arrive in my mask. 

Today, I arrived within seconds of the 2:30 arrival time and I felt so much better for the punctuality, but as Mistress opened the door I let out an expletive that I had forgotten to wear my mask. After a quick scramble, it was on with the Covid mask, and no further access alllowed until I’d had my quick temperature check and sanitized my hands and... what a fantastic sight. Mistress was in her black catsuit with red trim and she looked every inch the dominant and very beautiful person she is. That fantastic vision threw me and I had forgotten to take off my shoes (a house rule at the door). Quickly de-shoeing I followed Mistress up the stairs to the Playroom but regretted that I couldn't get close enough to marvel at those wonderful hips and latex clad bottom.

Without ado I was sent off to the bathroom to return in black socks and gloves! Black? No mention of that in the calling letter! - I really must restudy the Chambers rule book, in particular:

Rule 9 - Mistress may change her mind at any time

Rule 13 - Mistress expects her slaves to read minds at all times.

Fortunately I do carry a pair of black gloves in my perv bag and Mistress passed me a pair of black socks that she retrieved from one of the Playroom drawers, so all was not lost.

I returned suitably clad and spent a good few moments caressing and worshipping the black patent thigh boots that adorned Mistress’ legs. I was really tempted to worship above the rim of those boots and let my tongue wander over her tightly covered thighs but… my training kicked back in and of course I limited my worship to the boots. I was also instructed  ‘The boots don't like being wet’. So after I had kissed I was instructed to follow with a blow dry!

We talc'd the red catsuit and I must say it fitted easily, comfortably and a superb fit, certainly better than I remember, and there I was a red rubber plaything again. Mistress directed me towards a small stool and told me to sit down. Even with my arms tightly roped behind my back it was a very comfortable position. So much so that when Maggie secured her final rope knot around my waist and announced ‘You are not going anywhere without the stool’, I mischievously made to stand. I had no intention of completing the action but Mistress issued a stern rebuke telling me. ‘Don’t even think about it!’

I watched at a distance as Maggie cut a 6" strip from a roll of wide surgical tape before moving in close to press it against my mouth. I knew this was reference to my last visit, when I had been mistakenly breathing through my mouth (see last blog). From the drawer next to her Throne, Mistress retrieved the red rebreather hood. It has 6 small breathing holes that were to become my sole contact with the outside world for a while. I was sealed inside my latex and now my rebreather hood. Life was once more looking good. I sat for a while breathing regularly and smiling quite a lot beneath the tape gag as I felt Mistress gently sit on my knee. 2021 had just got so much better and there was more to come as Mistress gently pulled down each nipple zip and started to gently stroke each nipple in turn. I might have guessed that there was something a little more sinister going on. A wonderful tingly sensation soon told me that both nipples were being caressed by nettles. The sensation was exquisite as Mistress continued to pamper them with her seasonal touches, then gently closing the zips she left both nipples 'glowing' .

Two things about being sealed into the red re-breather hood. The first is that after breathing out the rebreather part deflates quite rapidly, meaning the next intake of air is almost pure clean Playroom air. The second is a bi-product of this rapid deflation. With all the hot, moist air being generated internally, occasionally the collapsing hood will completely seal itself shut. The first time this happened it  induced a little concern until I realised that a quick shake of the head resulted in the cowl freeing itself and the air flowing once again. I also shouldn't really mention this but that same moisture has a tendency to release the adhesion on the tape gag, and by the end of the rebreathing it was almost ineffective. However, I knew the purpose of the gag was to encourage breathing through my nose, and not wishing to disappoint Mistress I kept it up and didn't once attempt to breathe through the mouth.

After that Mistress was keen to introduce me to a rather large anal electrode, and she placed it on the table alongside my butt plug so I could take solace from a size comparison. Okay, their comparable mass was about the same, but no real consolation as while my own plug is flexible and tapered to allow a gradual insertion, the electrode was a no messing hard cock shape. I duly assumed the position across the horse; bending over and thinking of England and waited for Maggie to attempt to insert it. The first attempt was a little uncomfortable despite the masses of lube, so holding a bottle under my nose I was ordered to take a long sniff of the relaxing aromas to help with proceedings. The electrode was now attempting a second entry and I was just starting to feel the discomfort of an impossibly stretched rectum when ...whoosh!!! It was in and oh what a relief. It felt marvellous. I was so proud that I had managed to do what Mistress hoped as I stood there waggling the tails of the electrode that were dangling from my bottom.

I now understood why Mistress wanted the black socks and gloves as she started to totally cover my upper torso in black pallet wrap. The roll of wrap was really misbehaving; tearing or unwinding unevenly with every wrap. I felt overwhelming sympathy for Mistress as she struggled to cover me top to toe. It was warm despite the Playroom fan wafting its cooling influence over the two of us. I was relatively ok because I only had to stand there, first the body, then each outstretched arm, then chest and shoulders making my top half like the New Zealand rugby team - all black! I was eased back against the plank and the rest of my body engulfed in black. My predicament was being reflected back via the Playroom mirror and I must say it looked quite fetching.

Not quite finished, Mistress produced a gas mask, the one with the twin filters and internal drinking tube which I eagerly accepted into my mouth. The straps were pulled tight to ensure an open faced latex mask could neatly be pulled over my head. Her slave was now TOTALLY isolated from anything on the outside, in a perfect Covid bubble as far as protection was concerned, but as Mistress bound my forearms in a leather corset I realised that one small part of me was exposed to the atmosphere. Yes, my cock and balls were liberated from the plastic wrap and were soon to be subjected to my Mistresses electrifying ways.

I could feel cool rings being slipped onto my cock and a throbbing electric pulse quickly followed, then even more throbbing was activated deep in my anus as the electrode was finally brought to life.

Inside my black cocoon I was becoming increasingly hotter and moist. Maggie seemed intent on simply leaving her slave to stew, except for raising the output on the electric box whenever she walked by. She brought the aromas pump into the room and added a little extra indulgence to my playtime by swapping it with one of my mask filters.

As Mistress pumped in a couple of aroma puffs I thought what a fortunate plaything I was. With all the electric surging around cock and bum coupled with an occasional puff, my shrink wrapped body was getting increasingly warmer and with no idea when it would end. I just hoped that Maggie was deriving as much pleasure as I was.

Maggie couldn't help teasing her slave by placing the aroma pump bulb between those beautiful breasts then taunting me to self administer, moving just close enough for my pinioned hands to reach her chest she asked. ‘Which bulb would you like to squeeze slave?’ What a dilemma. I so wanted to stroke those glorious globes and so succumbed. The pump would have to wait, as I may not be given the opportunity to caress Mistresses bosom again. The feeling is fantastic, even wearing the latex gloves and planked, they are magnificent.

To add a little more intrigue, Mistress blindfolded me and reduced me to listening to constant white noise through earphones. Oh how I would have loved to see my Mistress resplendent in her tight latex but I would have to wait for such a privilege, because for now Mistress was entertaining her slave with her silence and building electric stimulation.

When I am reaching the edge of tolerance, the first thing to go is that my breathing gets a little raged. Mistress recognised this as a sign that I may have had as much as I could take given the heat of the day, and asked if I needed to come out. She did have a couple more items on the menu but these would wait for another day.  

Unfortunately for me one of them was to drink up the jug of fresh nectar that Maggie had prepared using the FM12’s drinking straw. The second was only a tentative threat to tighten my plastic cocoon with heat from her hairdryer, but Mistress has done it before and I’m pretty sure would do it again in the future!!

Once I was removed from the board my head was freed. I felt so much better drinking in the cool air being circulated by the fan, but the moment had gone and the session came to a gentle end with me having a good few minutes to relax before being extracted from my very warm and very wet shrink-wrap and latex coverings.

I look forward to similar encasement later in the year when the weather is cooler and Mistress can remain cool as she applies the wrap, but that decision will rest with Maggie to allow or ignore… As I said, I felt for Mistress Maggie labouring away in the heat of a hot July afternoon to entomb her slave, maybe she will have her revenge next time I’m cocooned, by deploying her hairdryer ? A tight situation and something for this slave to look forward to with a little trepidation.

Although half way through 2021. in the words (almost) of one of my favourite bands -

Got a feeling '21 is going to be a good year

Especially if you and me see it through together...

Thank you Mistress . You really do produce exceptional experiences for this slave.

Note to self: When Mistress asks for red or black catsuit always bring a contrasting pair of red/black socks and gloves!

Still a Long Way to go

Just when I thought I was becoming adequately trained, at least in the opening ceremony of footwear worship, Mistress Maggie threw in a curved ball to disperse any complacency that may have been building. The moment I entered the door to her Chambers I was put on a lead, and I followed Mistresses glorious latex covered bottom up the stairs to arrive in the Playroom; nothing unusual there, but then Maggie guided me fully clothed to the floor and I was told to start footwear worship immediately. Maggie has a new pair of black shiny boots that go all the way to the middle of her thighs and they were definitely well worshipped by this happy slave.

’Drop your pants and over the chair slave’, where I was told I would receive three thwacks of the trident paddle. ‘To satisfy your curiosity slave’. I had seen this implement in one of Maggie's twitter feeds where she had administered 30+ strokes to a willing recipient. After 3 strokes my backside knew it had been well belted, leaving me with full admiration for the recipient of the 30+ strokes. I would have taken my hat of to him there and then if I had been wearing one.

Just as I was expecting to be sent off to the bathroom to change into my usual session uniform, Maggie threw in another curved ball by instructing me to get undressed and get into my rubber catsuit there in the Playroom, but not until I had received a hard slap on my face. ‘A friend asked me to do that’, smiled Maggie sweetly!

Now that I had been wakened up properly we moved on to the real meat of the session. Mistress told me I had been far too greedy with my consumption of aromas over the last few months, and that I would be sniffing something else today while revisiting the basics of breath play. Whilst I was sitting relaxed on the circular stool enjoying a few quiet moments in the presence of a beautiful woman, Mistress quietly and efficiently set about securing my hands tightly across my stomach. The bindings were so effective that I really couldn't move my hands in any direction and certainly not reach my nipples let alone my face.

With the rope work done, my neck was trapped in the padded stocks, which in turn were firmly attached to the suspension gantry. Some minor height adjustment was completed and I was so comfy that... hold that thought as I heard the familiar rustle of the polythene bag.

Undoubtedly I would end up with my head inside it and I could look forward to a few moments of being once more reliant on Maggie for air. However, this looked a little more serious as the stocks were opened and then closed round the bag, gripping it tightly round my neck. I have to admit I was worried when I heard the lock click in place. It looked like I was about to enjoy some s-e-r-i-o-u-s breath control. I had no escape, I was trapped inside the bag with the air slowly becoming stale.

As I begged for air I gazed at my beautiful captor and my only hope of release, but unusually she did not respond to my pleas, at least not immediately, instead I lost sight of her as she moved round the side of my steamy plastic prison and I did panic a little. Though I was unable to see her, Mistress took a huge lungful of air and blew into one of the two purpose built air vents she had cleverly constructed yesterday. Repeating the life giving infusion several times, I relaxed and accepted that I was totally dependent on my Mistresses second hand air. It is the situation I love as I trust my Mistress implicitly and I hoped she felt that I was worth receiving her air otherwise...

This wasn't just isolated breath control, this was designed to have me totally air dependent for thirty plus minutes. All the while, Maggie teased me by coming so close with her lips just when I needed more puff. Another dilemma, I would love to have been kissed, even through the steamy plastic, but Maggie cleverly left that moment until I was really begging for more air.

After perhaps two dozen life giving infusions Mistress was satisfied that my over indulgence in aromas had been balanced by this prolonged period of basic breath control. Finally I was released from the stocks. At that point I was so utterly and completely devoted to my Mistress, I felt nothing but happiness and totally at peace with my situation.

More basic elements were to be reinforced with our next exercise as Maggie announced that my nipples had also been somewhat neglected along with the breath play.

Fortunately Mistress can be kind to her slaves and now allowed me a few whiffs of aroma, to slightly ease the discomfort before starting on the nipples. My wrists were still pinioned but the aromas started to have the desired effect and Mistress knew I would not complain (well hardly complain) as first the left and then the right nipple were warmed up.

Oh boy, do we need to do more work on my nipples!

Tweezer clamps with a small weighted load were attached to each one, but two minutes later both fell off, it was like deja vu, first the left then the right. Mistress likened my nipples to lumps of lard. The next attempt was to try and secure the clamps behind surgical needles to see if they would stop them sliding off. Nope! - that didn't help and the thought that my nipples were actually made of lard started to concern me. There was only one thing for it, the trusty clover clamps.

These bloody hurt and to reinforce their effectiveness Mistress had me kneel on all fours with the clamps dangling beneath. Mistress was having fun and to enhance my enjoyment a string of four anal beads were rudely and quickly stuffed up my bum.

With the lead reattached, Maggie guided me next door and had me stand to attention with the crop in my mouth as she changed into her piss pants. I couldn't look down but I could hear as Maggie described exactly what she was doing. She certainly seemed pleased about how her piss pants looked with the new thigh boots.

Shortly after, both the clover clamps gave up the ghost and the lard finally shed even these most gripping of clamps. I do have a pair of suction nipple pumps at home and we agreed that I desperately need to practice at least once each week to de-lard the buds.

The last and final part of this session is definitely not remedial training, nor is it a punishment. I consider myself very fortunate that Mistress allows me every opportunity to consume her juices, using many and varied methods she encourages and makes her slave quench his thirst. On this occasion an inflatable, breathe through gag would become my drinking tube, and with the nipple clamps applied again my mouth was agonisingly opened ready to have the gag inserted. Not much use currently as a breath through, but excellent to feed through and Mistress did make sure the nose holes were clear for me to breathe.

I eagerly consumed every offered drop, but the flow seemed to be never ending. I watched as the level in the reservoir went down with each suck on the drinking tube, only to see and hear Mistress let loose another torrent of her precious fluids. There is something really erotic and sexually stimulating to watch and hear your Mistress peeing and then to consume the warm fresh urine. A definite treat.

Meanwhile, at the back of my mind a mischievous plan was being hatched. Once I had completely drained my drink I was hoping to blow back down the tube and inflate the piss pants around Mistress private parts, but had to settle with just licking my lips! I think Mistress knows this slave well enough to read my mind, because the second I heard the final slurp the flow was disconnected and I didn’t have the chance to try and inflate her.

Today, I have been subjected to extended breath play reliant wholly on my Mistresses air, had my nipples clamped and pierced and finally had the luxury of emptying Mistress Maggie's bladder down my throat. It was another truly remarkable session and I know I am owned by the most spectacular and beautiful Mistress I could ever have wished for, but I also know that in my aim to serve her every pleasure and requirement I still have a long road to travel.

Thank you Mistress.

WARNING: This 3min 52 sec breathplay clip has audio.

Thunder and Rain

I had the unexpected luxury of knowing a week in advance that Mistress Maggie would be allowing me to accompany her on a trip away from the Chambers. Mistress did offer an alternate date as the Chambers were undergoing some structural improvements, or we could go out and about. That really was a no brainer - what, miss the opportunity of being out and about with a most beautiful woman? Not a chance.

Maggie mentioned that she had checked the ten day weather forecast which had indicated heavy rain towards the end of the week, so an outing in stormy weather looked like it may be on the cards. No destination as yet, that would depend on the conditions on the day, but the prospect of a day out in our wet weather gear was looking enticingly feasible.

A large image of a very beautiful, sexy and rubber coated Mistress

My whole week was spent looking at weather forecasts for Friday and getting progressively more excited about where my Mistress would take her very loyal slave. Perhaps a trip to Blackpool or one of the local secluded wooded areas, a trip over the Pennines (unlikely if a heavy downpour was forecast) or most likely a trip to another favourite spot on the Fylde.

I was kept on tenterhooks until Thursday night when Mistress sent me my calling mail, informing me that, ‘… you can take me on a trip to St. Annes, have a wander round the pier and catch lunch at the cafe on the pier…’

The forecast was now predicting sunshine and showers and as you can see from this wonderful picture of Mistress, the afternoon started with the sunshine.

I was also instructed to, ‘… bring your rubber coat, boots and hat (which I haven’t seen yet!). With chance a few photos may be possible in our rubber coats…’

Despite being sunny when we arrived, we put on our rubber coats and went for a saunter along the front without a care in the world, stopping for a reconnoitre for possible photo opportunities. A few family groups were out enjoying themselves on the beach, but expecting that the beach would empty when the rain came down we hoped to return later and head down onto the sand. Continuing on we arrived at the Les Dawson statue where a lady commented that I looked like 'the man himself ' and a few photos were taken of Mistress, Mr Dawson and myself. The strong sunlight and shadows would be disappearing shortly in a flash.

Adjourning to the pier head cafe I treated Mistress to a coffee and sandwich lunch. I can recommend the cafe by the way, and can personally vouch that their beef and onion sandwiches are excellent value. It was not the first time we have eaten at the cafe and the staff barely give a second glance to the two rubber coated friends, as once again we took up residence at a corner table talking and smiling in quiet tones.

Still privately begging for wet weather, I must admit to being a little disappointed with the beautiful sunlight as we stepped outside after lunch, however, as we slowly walked on leaving the cafe behind my spirits began to brighten, roughly proportional to the deterioration in the weather. There was a rumble or two of thunder in the distance and the prospects of being able to enjoy our waterproof clothing improved. Maggie said we should head back to the car, where following another rumble of thunder I was instructed to put on my wellies and hat because we may well need them!

In the distance we could see and hear the weather front closing in on us. One minute you could see right across the Ribble towards Hesketh Bank and the next moment the whole vista was obliterated as the grey rain cloud descended and continued to march in our direction. By now the beach was devoid of people and as the rain arrived we set off across the bare sand sensibly heading for the shelter of the pier.

As Maggie attempted to set up her camera a couple of curious lads who had taken refuge from the deluge came for a chat. ‘Are you professional photographers? - No? - You look really cool’. They politely explained that they were college students and raising their cameras asked if they could take a couple of pictures. Mistress agreed, they were happy and dashed off for a more waterproof location.

We were then alone, and snug in our rubber waterproofs it was our turn to have fun on the beach. Maggie was hoping to shoot some video but we started with a few photo stills to check that the camera actually worked when saturated with rain!. I love this shot because it shows both our wet weather gears and Maggie now has a picture of my hat! It was surreal being allowed to stand so close and watch the rain bounce off Mistresses rather sexy rain hat and occasionally trickle down that beautiful face... It also gives some idea of how wet the weather had become but no indication as to the odd rumble of thunder.

WARNING: This 32 second clip has audio.

Mistress gave me directions outlining how she wanted her shoot to progress... ‘We will walk in from the left of shot... keep your distance etc ….’ As the video began rolling I had a lead snapped on my collar and we set off in the pouring rain.

We walked off at an angle on course for coming into shot walking towards the camera. We walked quite some distance and even repeated the journey a couple of times until Maggie thought she may have enough footage. I felt a very happy slave and I would have carried on walking all day being literally lead by my very wet Mistress.

Back under the dripping pier I recognised that mischievous smile. I just know something else exciting was about to happen. True enough, Maggie turned to her bag of tricks and extracted two familiar items; a ball gag that was stuffed in my mouth and a long coiled length of sisal rope. Of course I ended up tied to the pier.

It was a simple yet very effective bondage and I felt rather vulnerable. Well just for a moment as Maggie made sure her ball gag was securely applied. But I know and trust my Mistress implicitly, she wouldn't leave me there as the tide was coming in. Or would she? As she turned, said ‘goodbye slave’ and made to walk away.

Then oops! Out of the corner of my eye I spotted what looked like pier security approaching either side of the pier. I whimpered to Maggie that we had company and without looking in their direction she slowly untied the ropes. By the time the guys had arrived I was as free as a bird, brushing down my raincoat and helping Mistress to pack away the equipment.

They were very understanding once Maggie explained that I wasn't being left tied against the pier as fish bait, and that the whole scene was a photo shoot. But, understanding as they were, they did suggest that it is frowned upon tying someone to the pier.

As they retreated leaving us to clear away, one of the security men appeared to be reassuring a rather wet and concerned member of the public that she wasn't about to witness a ritualistic drowning, and in that sense it’s refreshing to know that people are sufficiently concerned as to alert the security staff of a possible tragedy. Thank you to the anonymous lady for showing concern, although she wasn't to know that a very willing slave was having a jolly good time in the very capable hands of a very experienced Mistress.

Two very wet and very happy people gradually made our way back to the pier entrance and made our way through the entertainment arcade with the intention of strolling the length of the pier deck, to see if we had scope for another couple of rubbery stills. Unfortunately, the gentleman from pier security advised us that he would be closing the pier at 17:00, just two minutes time but we weren't the last to leave.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable drive home in the presence of an incredibly exciting lady. We had had so much fun and excitement on our wet day out and we could chat about another exciting adventure. Thanks to the St Annes pier cafe, the concerned member of public, the excellent pier security staff and the general public for allowing two rubber coated individuals to enjoy themselves. But above all, thanks to Mistress Maggie for being such an excellent Mistress and friend and in particular for allowing me to include her video clip and not leaving me tied to the pier!

50 of the Best

Yesterday may well go down as the highest recorded temperature ever in the UK and today, although the ambient temperature was a little lower, isolated hot spots were evident in the North West. Specifically it got very heated in The Chambers where Mistress Maggie ramped up the temperature for this rubber devotee, and it certainly looked to be a red hot day as Mistress had instructed me to bring my red rubber wardrobe.

Because of the warmth Mistress allowed me to change in the fan cooled Playroom, then naked apart from my latex socks and gloves I presented myself at the feet of my Mistress and set about worshipping those beautiful legs and long red boots. I always relish the sessions’ start where I can be down on the floor under my Mistresses feet and just paying homage to a wonderful woman. The warmth of the day and the cooling fan which occasionally blew a welcome breeze up my bum, made it a perfectly exciting and highly erotic start.

Mistress stood up from her throne and looking down at me told me to continue my devotion. ‘Front AND back of my boots slave’. She turned around allowing me to access every part. It was so tempting to allow my tongue to stray that little higher; to kiss and lick those alabaster thighs and higher... I can dream but there is nothing currently in the rule book to stop me trying to gently caress those forbidden places with my freshly washed hair. I probably shouldn't have said that and of course it can only happen when I am not hooded!

Ordered onto my hands and knees it was butt plug fitting time, plenty of lube and ... a plastic bag! Holding the plastic bag tightly at my neck with one hand the plug was wiggled, teased and finally pushed into its home with the other. It has been a while since Maggie has allowed me the privilege of gazing at her great beauty as she smiles and watches me reach the inevitable begging stage for air. A lot of pleading and she will let it in before repeating the breathless cycle again. There came a stage where I so wanted to kiss her sultry lips as they were almost touching the plastic, but the need for air overtook my need to kiss and once again I found myself begging. The freshly inserted butt plug became unnoticeable as I breathed in plastic and struggled for air four times in a row. After a couple of shakes of powder on went the red latex catsuit and at that point we adjourned to The Clinic.

Zips opened, legs in the stirrups and ‘further down slave ... get your ass right over the end slave.’ Mistress ordered. As she fitted her strap on Maggie announced that we should celebrate the 50th anniversary of the first moon landing. My plug had only been in for ten minutes, but out it came and in went her rocket dildo, very slowly, all the way in until the balls on her strap-on slapped against my arse cheeks.

Mistress handed me a bottle of aroma to blast off on. ’Are you ready for launch slave’ . . . and her rocket thrusts began. ‘ONE’ - A very slow withdrawal until only the tip was in contact. ‘TWO’ . . . ‘THREE’ . . .  This countdown went on until we reached the fifty. On each slow thrust I could gaze in wonderment at the very sexy person taking me to the heavens and beyond and I was well and truly fucked. Mistress in charge, Mistress on top and Mistress dictating the pace and depth of each thrust and I just loved it. I felt another step towards being totally controlled by Wonder Woman.

After all that excitement, Mistress decided a little quiet contemplative time was necessary but not until a little more anal excitement with a rather large and very inflatable dildo. We had a good play with it, but as it was not suitable as a permanent ass fixture, it was a large black plug that was eventually inserted to keep my asshole stretched before Maggie sealed me inside my catsuit and red-roped me to the couch. Nothing too vigorous as it was very hot but enough for me to know my place. In stark contrast to the red, Mistress fitted a black gas mask and cleverly sealed the whole lot with the open faced mask. Maggie attached the re-breather bag, making certain I was able to accept the restricted air flow before casting me into the darkest of nights with the bug-eye blindfolds. With the headphones playing a monotonous and all enveloping track of white noise I had no idea what would happen next.

There I stayed and had no concept of time. All I did was dream highly erotic and very lurid dreams about the most sensual, sexually stimulating and sensational Mistress a slave could wish for. I had visions of a goddess in latex just looking down on her loyal yet totally subjugated subject. Thinking about the sensual situation I was in, the good fucking Mistress had just treated me to and the wildly lurid dreams I was having made the next action inevitable. All Mistress did was drape one of her rubber operating sheets over my exposed cock and try as I might to prevent embarrassment, I blurted out 'I'm coming Mistress,' and without further ado messed on the underside of the rubber sheet.

Mistress wasn't at all pleased that I had created extra washing, though whizzing off the headphones and whispering through the hoods she asked if I wanted to go on. Being such a hot day it seemed an appropriate time to stop for a drink of water before continuing my training with a spot of ball stretching. Maggie said that for a bit of light relief and amusement she’d planned to stretch my balls, but was happy to alter things to deal with the new circumstances. I had made my own bed and I would have to settle for lying in it, and because I had climaxed without consent I needed to be punished!

Hmmm! Perhaps choosing to continue was not one of my brightest decisions, but I knew I had upset the flow of the prolonged rubber deprivation and opting out just wasn't fair on Mistresses enjoyment. Out came a myriad of devices; rubber bands, metal ball weights, straps, more red rope and probably a whole host of other tackle that Maggie was going to tackle my tackle with.

Maggie is not sadistic, well at least not all of the time and she did allow me the comfort of a latex pillow to ease any strain on my calves. However, she showed little mercy on the pitiful cock and balls that had so misbehaved.

I of course saw none of this but could feel a lot of activity down below. I could feel my balls being attached to the H-frame. I could sense by Maggie’s voice that she meant business and I could tell I was in for a punishing time. Yet the worst stretching was still to come. The rebreather was reattached, the white noise turned back on and I was returned to the totally deprived state I had experienced earlier, and once again I was left to contemplate my exceptional Mistress. This time, subdued by the unplanned orgasm the dreams were less raunchy and somewhat overridden by the distress of my poor empty balls. Tightly restricted they were really being stretched and punished to say the least, lucky for me I have not had the pleasure of too much post orgasm torture but can tick it off my list of training experiences now!

Eventually Maggie relented and deciding that enough was enough, she removed the masks and adjusted the couch so that I was in a sitting rather than a lying position. I suspect that Mistress knew the action of sitting me up would tighten the ropes and stretch my cock and balls even more because she giggled that wonderfully girlish giggle as if to say, ‘That bit worked then’. One by one she started to remove my cock and ball jewellery. She examined my tackle and declared just the right ball colour; a slight blueish tinge and ready for freedom.

I am glad I had the balls to agree to continue the session after cumming unannounced. I really needed to be punished for my indiscretion and I have a lot of training still to do on orgasming to Mistress Maggie’s command. This possibly was Mistresses lesson and the hardest to avoid orgasm. I mean, a good bagging, fifty satisfying moon landings, a lot of isolation etc. what can a red blooded male do?

A History Lesson

Sometimes I wonder why Mistress Maggie puts up with such a simple soul. I was excited about a new pair of latex trousers I had recently bought for myself, and when I rang to confirm the appointment I was pleasantly surprised. Mistress told me to wear the trousers to arrive at the Chambers saying that she was looking forward to the fashion show where I would have chance to display my new garments to her. It didn’t sound too tricky, I know I am not an ideal fashion model but surely I could manage that. Hastily I packed my normal clothes and donned the trousers and a latex shirt ready for the enjoyable drive to see my owner.

The look and feel of the trousers certainly put a smile on my face as I sauntered between my car and the Chambers, but nowhere near as big a smile that erupted as Mistress opened the door, greeting me with a simply breathtaking sight. In her highest heels Mistress was standing tall, her beautifully shiny tights seeming to make her legs endless, but my broadest smile was elicited by the black latex teddy and waist nipper she was wearing accentuated by her radiant smile. She appeared pleased to see her humble and faithful servant and I was welcomed in.

Off with my coat Mistress moved her hands over my latex shirt and we had a mini fashion parade right there in her hallway, that broadened her smile even more. Then we wasted no time ascending to The Playroom where there was much more space. Mistress took a seat ready for the show and I was instructed to parade my new trousers and explain the many features and benefits of my new garments.

All I could muster was an inane comment about ‘how nice they feel’; nothing about their fit or style, nothing about the considerable number of pockets that were perfectly formed; nothing about the easy cleaning or functional zip incorporated in the garment, but just. 'They are nice to wear'. I am not surprised that Mistress was unamused by the show and probably verging on yawning. Sometimes I wonder about my suitability as a slave to my owner and frequently feel sorry for Mistress and relieved that my service hasn't been terminated.

Worship of Maggie's shoes went smoothly, partly due to their glossy patent surface. My tongue glided easily over them and it doesn't take long to cover the surface of both shoes. Meanwhile I listened in as Mistress verbally dished out hints and clues as to what was on today's agenda. Her instruction to ‘Pay good attention to my heels now slave’, interrupted her dialogue and had me quickly alter my position to tackle the task. Insertion into my rubber catsuit was swiftly achieved and I was soon having my hands bound with rope.

With my hands secured up to the ceiling ring there was no way out and anything could happen, maybe Mistress was intent on continuing my nipple training? But no, it was the unmistakeable noise of rustling plastic that gave her plan away and I quickly prepared for some challenging breathing. ‘This is a more reliable way of entertaining me slave’, she said as the plastic bag was pulled over my head, and indeed her beaming smile did reappear as my vision became misted. A second bag was put over the top and after some twisting at the neckline a securing clip was applied. Mistress moved around me although I could vaguely see her and all I could do was lessen my breaths until I could last no more, breathing so deeply that the plastic filled my mouth and I pleaded for air. Maggie waits until I am genuinely pleading before giving me what I most need, it is an intense experience and I am massively relieved when the air returns.

Perhaps today was the day Mistress gets rid of her slave? All it would take would be to leave the bags in place for a little longer. Maggie to smile that wonderful smile as my air runs slowly out and . . . fortunately not today.

After a few more very pleasant and breathless double bagging moments Maggie relented and retrieved the low padded bench, indicating for me to kneel lengthwise ready for some bum fun. ‘Slave, you need to be stretched for the new and interesting thrills I have waiting for you’, and before I knew it four large anal beads accompanied by lots of lube were disappearing eagerly into their cave – plup – plup – plup – plup –

While I wagged my tail and got used to the size of stuffing in my rear, Maggie put one of her larger strap-ons on and offered it to me for inspection, then disappearing behind me she began toying with my beads, pulling them out and pushing them home again until eventually they all plopped out and were put to one side.

Unfortunately, inserting the larger strap-on dildo didn't go quite so well. I had taken this strap-on before and although it initially slid home Mistress could tell by the noises I was making that it was uncomfortable and slid it right out again. Usually widening my legs allows easy access, but the narrow bench restricted my movement. The real problem was predominately down to my knees and how my considerable weight was resting on their wonkiest parts.

After a little chat Maggie decided that the treatments she had intended for my ass were best enjoyed on another day. Once again I had disappointed my Mistress and forced her to abandon that part of my training plan. Oh I do wish for better knees and to be able to satisfy my Mistress every time she wishes to gain rear entry, but despite a good dose of aromas, I let her down again.

An inarticulate response to the earlier question, plus a poor response to what should have been a very pleasant mount had me feeling an altogether rather pathetic slave, and I would have understood if that double plastic bagging had gone on and on . . .

Normally Maggie's lesson plans are innovative and unique. They may include reinforcing elements from earlier sessions but generally they are all refreshingly new. However, Mistress was keen to make part of the training a history lesson today. Not 1066 and all that but modern history, something her slave could directly relate to from a formative period of my life. To that end Maggie reminisced on a much earlier session that we had done together way back in November 2011, how I had been restrained to her chair with no chance of escape, my balls tethered to a broom handle below it. How I had been reduced to breathing through tubes and plunged into darkness beneath the sensual rubber sheet with my genitalia subjected to unstoppable electric sensations. Her idea was to set about replicating that little part of our history and I could vividly remember the scene she was speaking of.

I've been here before!

It could not be an exact replica as I had not even purchased my rubber catsuit at that time, but near enough. Mistress has redecorated the room during those intervening seven years, a gas mask and hose was used instead of nostril tubes giving me greater visibility, the poppers delivery is new, but all in all this was about the feeling of history. What is the same is my continued devotion to my perfect Mistress, in fact, that has changed and deepened in those seven years. My only aim now is to bring pleasure to Maggie and enjoy all my training.

Even the electrics have changed a little over time. Maggie is happier to ramp up the levels now that I am trained to to her personal liking, but the mechanism remains as I remember it. Mistress Maggie's throne hasn't changed. The hole in the centre is ideally placed for attaching tied up balls to the long broom handle as they were once again today. The bondage mitts drawing me forward against the tight leather restraints that kept me secured, probably more so than I was those seven years ago.

What didn't happen seven years ago was the method Mistress used to mock and manipulate my cock. Today she joked about it being mouselike by hiding in the hole. Actually that hole in the throne is quite large, but I must admit that all the downward pressure on my tightly roped balls does have the tendency to make my cock disappear. No amount of coaxing could tease the mouse out.

Maggie was doing a lot of rummaging inside the hole trying to find my mouselike cock, and when she did she caught it, immediately tagging it with a pair of handy electrodes and setting the stimulation levels sufficiently to have her slave jerking around.

Deja Vu!

A final inspection of her slave was completed before the lights went out. Checking out my breathing hose Mistress chose to extend it so it would not snag on my suit and cause sudden air loss. Mistress doesn't countenance accidental suffocation and her attention to safety hasn't changed in all the years I have known her, and once the second hose was attached she had absolute control over her slaves’ breathing.

And then it went black.

When I saw this image I recognised the familiar territory. It is amazing how the rubber sheet totally eliminated all light, as black as the depths of a coal mine, though a much more sensual place to be. As my time under the sheet went by my environment became warmer and filled up with the arousing rubber scent with only the sound of my breaths to keep my company. I knew my Mistress was in close proximity, I could neither see nor hear her but I could sense her presence.

Which is just as well because eventually I could feel my left hand starting with pins and needles then starting to go numb. Mistress always insists that her subjects report any discomfort, assesses the problem and where appropriate, as in this case, leaps in to sort it out. Oh I do wish that I had mentioned that wrist binding was a fraction tight when applied, but at the time I was just wanting to please.

I could have stayed in the dark forever had it not been for that useless wrist and once again I started wondering how Mistress tolerates such a decrepit specimen. And that is where the history lesson ended and that is how the perception of history can be changed through a small yet important change in the details.

I truly had no idea what Maggie’s intentions had been for her golden fluids, but following the abandonment of earlier plans when my wonky knees had curtailed my anal escapades, Mistress was left with an uncomfortably full bladder. Disappearing momentarily into the Clinic she returned with a steel bowl which conveniently fitted into the aperture on the seat of the bondage chair. There, right in front of me her crotch zip was opened, then looking me straight in my eyes her majesty sat down and released her long lasting stream of nectar into the bowl. The gentle tinkle as it caressed the stainless steel was magical and so was the flavour. The bowl and its fresh, warm contents were placed at Maggie's feet and with the merest of nod I knew exactly what was expected. I knelt forward to lap it up.

Maggie had been using me as a foot rest while I had been finishing up my drink and not a drop was wasted. Oh my, the taste of fresh Mistress is divine! Actually at last I think that may have pleased Mistress Maggie, because I was ordered to roll over like a good dog and out came the Hitachi wand complete with a nobbly cock sleeve. Mistress played with her dog with great gusto, imposing her will for one final time in this most rewarding of history lessons by forcing an orgasm from her slave.

A happy yet messy conclusion for this little mouse? dog? slave!

Outer Limits

There is nothing wrong with your screen. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. Mistress Maggie is controlling transmission. If Mistress wishes to make it louder, she will bring up the volume. If Mistress wishes to make it softer, she will tune it to a whisper. Mistress will control the horizontal. Mistress will control the vertical. Mistress can roll the image, make it flutter. Mistress can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour or so, sit quietly and Mistress will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to – The Outer Limits. That is the strange sensation I experienced when I received the calling mail -

'Tomorrow your rubber Mistress will be training you in the essentials of Egyptology.'

Nothing strange so far you may think, but if I tell you that in the period since my last session I had almost exclusively been browsing the internet for mummification videos, purely for research I hasten to add, when my calling mail arrived from my Mistress I really wondered if she had a direct Wi-Fi link into my brain. How come after two weeks research on mummification does my owner produce the exact scenario I’ve been viewing?

Even more macabre was Maggie's matter of fact explanation of where she intended to take me;

1. Remove breath from slave with plastic
2. Conduct medical autopsy
3. Mummify slave with film and rolls of electrical tape
4. Insert sound, check if slave has arrived in heaven

. . . and possibly leave me for eternity for some archaeologist to discover in a few centuries time.

What is this strange form of mummification? Electrical tape wasn't around for the Egyptian mummies so it must be early 21st century? Oh well we'll gently cut it here and . . .

Back to the inner mind and something not quite so surreal. Mistress had adorned her legs in a pair of laced long black thigh boots and I spent a very happy time worshipping those perfect legs. Down to the heels, a long slow lick punctuated by as many kisses I could fit in and down again. It wasn't long however before Mistress needed to progress her slave towards the outer limits of her Egyptian plan.

The plastic bagging was to make sure I was as near mort as she could manage without actually losing her slave. I know it is going to come back to haunt me but I do like to gaze at my owner as she allows the oxygen in my little pod to depreciate, there is no benefit in being greedy with the available air so slowly does it, and its always a comfort to know that Mistress will stay by my side as I begin to struggle for breaths.

Somewhat of a dilemma for her victim today. With my wrists tightly secured to my balls there were only two ways to go, well three if Mistress really wanted to dispose of her slave, but two realistically; beg for air or rip my balls off trying to free myself from the situation. As a consequence of Mistress relenting in response to my desperate pleas for freedom, I managed to keep my balls and was ready for item 2 from the list, the autopsy. If Mistress wants me to play dead, then play dead I will.

Laid out on the slab I was instructed in no uncertain terms not to move. Mistress carefully positioned a towel across my abdomen and explained to me what was about to happen in her autopsy; swabs, hair follicles, nail slivers etc but what was alarming was she proceeded to mark out my chest area ready for looking at my internal organs. Momentarily that threw me. Maggie wouldn't open up her slave... would she? That thought, however fanciful and far fetched caused real havoc for this 'cadaver' and I think you may be able to detect the onset of rigor mortis under the towel. Well that was my excuse as Nurse Maggie giggled a little and reminded me that I must keep still!

This was starting to get way too real. Imagine what impact it had on my already unruly cock when she pulled back the towel, eased back my foreskin, clamped it in place with a pair of clamps and then started to gently swab all round, both inside and out for the first DNA sample. ‘Keep STILL slave!’ became a virtually impossible request as my manly bits were being man handled by my beautiful pathologist Mistress.

I of course could rarely see how beautiful Mistress was looking, because the clear latex hood I was wearing for the autopsy was anything but clear. The small holes at eye level were a few millimetres off line and all I could manage was an occasional glimpse of Mistress through one small hole, that treat was restricted too when the pillow supporting my head was placed under my back instead, apparently to give a more realistic dead pose. With her pair of tweezers Mistress then removed a hair follicle sample from under my left arm pit, placing it in a petri dish to be checked for disease. Note to self; make sure I clean off all body hair before my next session.

The final piece of the postmortem was to take a small piece of toe nail. This caused some amusement because unknown to Maggie, it had only been two days prior to my autopsy that I had visited the podiatrist and had all my nails trimmed. Nevertheless, where there’s a will there’s a way and Maggie moved her scissors from one toe to the next until she finally cut off a suitable sliver to add to her sample collection.

Once satisfied that she had poked, picked, snipped and tidied up her 'cadaver’, Mistress shoved an inflatable and vibrating plug up my bum to aid my passage into the afterlife, and announced that it was time to preserve her slave for posterity. To ensure my lithe, slim, muscular, young body would remain in as near perfect condition as it was, the plan was for three layers of mummification. In reality I think Mistress was more likely to call my body fat, old, unfit . . . but as always I can dream.

Back in the mummification room we positioned the bondage plank which would become my final resting place, and I was squeezed into my heavyweight latex catsuit. A quick yet effective wrap of cling film was applied just in case the tape and latex were incompatible and so Mistresses slave was about to become Mistresses mummy.

A beautifully smooth mummy and a beautifully smooth Mistress.

With a broad sweep of her arm Maggie showed me the rolls of electrical tape that she would be using and in the same motion invited me to sit for the first lengths of tape to be applied. As I had seen in my research, these were over the shoulder to around the nipple line. Strip after strip of the inch wide tape was applied in a methodical and incredibly precise layering until it looked like I was wearing silver armour.

The winding continued. This time round my substantial girth. Each layer being accurately positioned to overlap the previous binding, smoothed out, no gaps and getting tighter.

Two things happened during this phase of the mummification. The first occurred when Maggie began a full head mummification, but my personal limitations with the narrow electrical tape round the neck became apparent. Mistress gave it a good try out, but it was proving unrealistic for me to have my neck taped for an extended amount of time. Maggie realised that too tight a neck would result in either her slave becoming an actual cadaver, or at best being uncomfortable to the extent that I would have to beg for release before the taping was completed. Being an incredibly practical Mistress, Maggie already had a plan B and produced the lovely pewter latex hood, worn with my slave collar this combination provided a very passable colour-matched head covering for her mummy.

The second happened whilst I was sitting on the edge of the bed, quite happily enjoying the torso mummification. Because the tape was narrow I had to sit still and upright for longer than my body would allow, as Mistress turned away to get another roll of tape her unsupported slave gradually keeled over like a capsizing ship and ended on my back draped over the very comfortable latex bed. After two hefty blows with a whip I was soon back up to a sitting position, but as I have said in the past, my owner knows when I am struggling with an exercise and helped me onto the plank to finish off my legs, feet etc

Oh what a change in comfort levels once I was prone on the plank. They say a good stout plank is good to ease backache and it certainly was, plus I got a latex pillow on which to rest my head. Once again I was really happy to lay there as Maggie wound round and round my legs then taped my body to the plank. Whilst taping my torso she leaned over me to pass the tape under the plank and each time I could feel the warmth of her sensual body through the insulation tape, the only bit of me that could move grew just a little with each pass. I was being meticulously wrapped, each layer being carefully placed and carefully smoothed until totally and tightly secured to the plank and finally laid to rest.

Unlike gaffer tape mummification which I have done with Mistress in the past, electrical insulation tape has slightly more give. It offers tightness, moulds more smoothly and has a super lustrous shine. Mistress walked around me viewing her new mummy, passing her warms hands over the odd wrinkle here and there and adding short pieces of tape to the smallest exposed areas, all the time checking that her mummy was OK in this very tight situation. And oh boy was I alright!

A seasonal touch to a well insulated slave.

Some time went silently by before Maggie re-appeared and I started to feel that distinctive touch around my groin as she gently cut the tape and freed my cock and balls. Her mummy was to be bejewelled with bright steel items that would accompany me and hopefully bring me joy in the afterlife. I sensed some tight binding being wound around my scrotum, then the heavy ball weight that I had spotted sparkling on her counter during my last session came out to play. The weight was soon attached, ‘you can take this one for being nosey’ said Mistress, and her actions left my balls in the tightest of embraces. Not quite finished though. Another steel item that Mistress had displayed in her tweets, alongside the ball weight, was one very very long curved and ribbed sound.

The picture doesn't give any impression as to how long the sound actually is, but as I lay there luxuriating in my heavy binds and feeling Mistress gently inserting its tip, my cock just seemed to suck it in. All Maggie needed to do was hold it upright and the whole length; ribs, curved end and a foot of solid medical grade steel was gobbled up by a very hungry cock. As Maggie gently eased it in and out I exploded around the sound. I strained in my tape heaven but all I could do was enjoy that sensation and let out a very contented series of moans. ‘And that's for being nosey as well!’ Mistress had planned the mummification as my Christmas present and had even added a seasonal embellishment of snow flakes on her very happy and very controlled mummy.

I may regret saying this but I think I would like to experience the full weight of the magnetic ball weight in a 'normal' upright position, when working in the Playroom or dangling from the rafter ring or suspended from the overhead frame, or even next time Mistress Maggie allows me the privilege of accompanying her on a trip to the wide world.

Thank you Mistress for another wonderful year of new experiences and servitude to the most perfect owner, and for taking me to those Outer Limits.

N.B. - 6 rolls of narrow electrical tape were required to mummify me.