Showing posts with label rubber / latex bondage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rubber / latex bondage. Show all posts

Friday, 24 October 2025

SINS for a Slave

It is no sin to worship a beautiful dominant woman, nor is it a sin to do anything Mistress Maggie wishes, willingly and immediately without question. These are consensual acts of a dominant/subservient slave relationship. Therefore, you may be wondering what SINS I could possibly be revealing and be curious enough to carry on reading my ramblings.


The scene for today’s encounter with my Mistress was teasingly set yesterday evening with the call to worship -

‘Your nurse is sharpening her needles’, said the message.


From this, it was obvious that I was to be stitched up again; not a sin because I have had quite a few needles willingly inserted into various parts of my anatomy, and they were all carried out with my full consent. It is difficult to describe why I want Mistress to do whatever she wishes to her slave, but it boils down to the fact that I feel happiest when I can say that Maggie has finished our sessions in a happier frame of mind then at the start.


I suppose some may consider it a sin that I derive so much pleasure from worshipping the very ground that my owner walks on or even the very glossy PVC boots that I worshipped so diligently at the start of this session, but it isn’t. Today, the shiny white boots received a lot of licking and kissing attention as I attended to all the areas that Mistress instructed, the tip of her crop guiding my tongue to exactly where she wished me to clean. I experienced the thrill of Mistress’s crop being applied ever so gently across my back as I continued to work, anticipating and steeling myself in readiness for any harder strokes from the crop, but they never materialised. The occasional, very gentle touch only aroused me even more, and once again I was being elevated into the space often described as ‘the zone’.


Kneeling in front of my Mistress I had my latex working hood pulled over my face and now felt completely at ease, strangely it enhances my deep feelings and submissive relationship towards my owner. It begins to turn me into Maggie's rubber toy; no identity, nothing apart from ‘slave’. I also appreciated the fact that Maggie lubed up my backside and gently but firmly slipped in my own red plug. What nearly caught me by surprise was Mistress's request for me to recite my slave promise to her. I had not recited it recently, I stumbled a little and was a little hesitant, particularly with the part about others to join her in servitude, as Mistress is now semi retired and I know she no longer entertains new slave applications.


For reference, my slave vow to my Mistress is:

I promise that I will do my best:

To love my Mistress,

To serve my Mistress,

To help others to join my Mistress in slavery,

To keep the Mistresses Law.

and

To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question.

I always try to be faithful to this promise.


It certainly wasn't a sin to accept a real privilege that’s only occasionally granted by Mistress. I was offered the opportunity to caress and worship her latex covered derriere which immediately had a massive effect on my cock. Although it did restrict access to both buttocks somewhat, I shrewdly decided that an approach from the side would be the safest approach to offer my services, approaching her from the rear with a raging hard-on may well have appeared disrespectful. That may well have counted as a sin! Perhaps next time, and hopefully there will be a next time, I will have the confidence to kneel behind Maggie and perform as her slave and not a horny hot blooded subject! Thank you Maggie for that rare luxury.


By now, my butt plug had warmed up my arsehole and was ready to be replaced with something a bit bigger; an electro plug. Maggie used a stout latex harness to keep it in place. True to her meticulous nature, the straps were tightened to a very snug fit and adjusted so that they were mirrored on both sides. Despite the fact that the rubber harness would eventually be covered by two layers of latex, the symmetry epitomises Maggie’s insistence on perfection wherever possible.


I was to be dressed in two thick rubber layers, the first layer being my own Invincible catsuit, and I hope that I was able to pleasantly surprise Mistress by being able to climb into the garment unaided. The reflection I saw in the Playroom mirror was that of a big black rubber plaything, a completely anonymous one that was ready to please. I quickly received the second rubber layer that had been patiently hanging from the overhead, and this time I did need assistance in sliding into the single legged body bag. 


There was just sufficient movement between my feet to allow me to waddle, penguin style, through to the Clinic. As always, Mistress who is always amused to see me waddling, was close by to ensure I didn’t fall. Fortunately I have performed this activity before and was quite stable. I was instructed to be careful not to stand on the trailing electric cable as Maggie would be furious if I were to pull my butt plug out.


Once in the clinic I waddled to the centre of the latex covered couch and gently eased myself into exactly the right position. I have had good training in achieving this. Once comfortable, I was delighted that Mistress had chosen the panoramic gas mask for me to wear which, as its name implies gives excellent vision of Mistress and all of her Clinic. It also accommodates easy fixing of the aromas pump hose which proved to be a vital accessory as the session progressed.


Mistress entertained herself by putting some power into my butt plug, she was somewhat surprised that I wasn’t screaming my arse off when she ramped up the electrics to their max of 99 on the dial. To me my ass stimming was not excessive, but nicely noticeable, but Maggie thought it best to lower the dial, just in case at some stage it would please her to surprise me with the full belt of level 99 again!


Before we had hopped into the Clinic, Mistress had taken the precaution to line up the nipple zips in both suits so she had easy access to my nipples when their time for torment arrived. I was securely strapped to the couch, Mistress pulled on each strap with considerable strength, ensuring they were as tight as possible. My exposed nipples had a pair of simple white nipple clips applied to them, I knew they were there but not producing a cruel torment, just a dull ache and I guessed there may be something worse to follow! And now the part of the training that I was made aware of. The suturing of my cock and balls into one of Maggie's mangina creations. ‘I won’t be creating anything too elaborate today’, she said, ‘but I want my suturing to be the tidiest I have ever done’.


A scene was set, the couch was raised to an ideal working height, a white aseptic field arranged around my operation zone, my genitals sponged with disinfectant and I was treated to a full narrative of events as my nurse became busy with her needles. Maggie counted ‘one, two, three’, before starting a new suture which went on to be pulled tight and knotted four times. ‘I'll make sure these won’t be coming out in a hurry’, she said.


It was at this point that I was pleased the aromas pump hose was being put to excellent use, because the nine stitches I received were accompanied by the same number of good puffs of the pump. The affect of these particular aromas was my ability to relax into the needle pricks. A slight wince occasionally, but I think Mistress was pleased with how she was able to sew up the area with no interruptions from a struggling slave. Again, the care that is taken with a patient in this environment was evident, because Maggie wore a facemask to minimise giving her slave her cold, in fact she had worn it for most of our session.


It turned out that Maggie had been thinking about the next phase for a couple of years, and today was the day I was yet again given the privilege of being her Guinea Pig for another of her fiendish ideas. To facilitate this devious plan my headgear needed to be changed, off came the panoramic gas mask, the inflatable hood with its built in anaesthesia mask took its place and was duly inflated. Headphones supplied me with music, I was a blind Guinea Pig too, as this hood doesn’t have eye holes. The ONLY way air could get in and out was through the front anaesthesia port, and this was soon attached to the two green rebreather bags that I had seen quietly waiting nearby.


I hope by now that my training allows me to breathe slowly and steadily, in this situation it didn’t take long before I got into the rhythm and was ready for a prolonged rebreathe session. In… Out… In … Out. I could sense when I was taking in fresh air because I needed to apply far more suction, and so far Mistress was happy that everything was working swimmingly.


Maggie took tremendous joy in swapping the relatively harmless nipple clips for a pair with a nasty bite, I sensed that she was doing some adjustment to the breathing bags, perhaps restricting the flow further by partially closing the taps, when in fact she was attaching the breathing bags to my nipple clamps with short pieces of string. From there on, each time I breathed out something happened to my nipples! Mistress did allow me a couple of breaks from the rebreathing by unplugging the bags, but I really had no idea what was happening as I still couldn’t see a thing.


The picture shows exactly what Mistress had achieved and why the heading to the blog:


SINS - Self Inflicted Nipple Stretching.


Every time I breathed out, the rebreather bags inflated and stood straight out from the mask, pulling my poor nipples upwards via the two strings. Breathe in and the bags deflated releasing the tension on the nipple clamps. Although a bit Heath Robinson’ish Mistress was very proud of the results, she mentioned afterwards that I could be the subject of future SINS once her devious experiment has been refined. Oh how I look forward to that pleasure!


Satisfied with the SINS, Maggie moved on to a little more electric stimulation. The sensation in my butt plug began gradually rebuilding again and I could feel electric pads being stuck on my balls, where my cock used to be. Pulsing and stimulation was the order of play for the next two or three musical tracks. Maggie then cleared the area so she could apply a copious amount of cool gel to my mangina and using her Doppler machine she listened carefully to my sutured area. There were a series of audible beeps coming from the wand . . .  ‘ That’s the sound of your encased cock straining to get out’, she mused. She wasn’t wrong, I was feeling very frustrated by this stage.


And then all hell broke loose in my nipples. I let out a scream and begged Maggie to stop, Stop, STOP!  I thought Maggie had applied an even worse fiendish method of ‘stimulating’ my nips. The irony was that she hadn’t added anything, it was the removal of the clamps that caused the excruciating pain. After Mistress explained this I was able to breathe through the diminishing pain and the session began reaching a natural conclusion.


My hood was finally removed and Mistress was dealing with my sutures. I asked if next time she removes stitches, perhaps she would be kind enough to allow me a few more puffs of the aromas. I know I’d been warned that they wouldn’t be coming out in a hurry, but the discomfort associated with the stitch removal was far worse than their insertion.


I believe Mistress Maggie ended the session in a good frame of mind and happier than at the start. If that is the case my job has been successful. I certainly left with a smile on my face as Maggie suggested I need to check that all stitches were actually out. Only a tease, of course they were and I returned home a very happy bunny that I had experienced SINS!.

Friday, 25 July 2025

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of ...

... Saline. 


Quite a celebration for my 250th session with my excellent Mistress Maggie. Why the title? Well, initially I knew 100% what the end result of this session would be from the calling mail.

'Pack your kit bag with your red catsuit and matching accessories to bring to session. Best to wear big pants'.


The reference to 'big pants' always suggests that I will be leaving The Chambers with an oversized scrotum that will need that extra bit of space to get home. I was convinced I was right until Mistress posted the following on X the morning of our appointment.


'It’s gonna be a doggy style day'.


Being outsmarted by my Mistress is not that hard to achieve as I am but a dumb servant. The question on my lips as I arrived was whether I would be receiving a pegging, a pumping or both?


Mistress laughed when I mentioned my dilemma and said the picture on X had absolutely nothing to do with the session, and yes, it was big ball time.


During my boot veneration of those wonderfully shiny, red PVC thigh high boots I detected a slightly more serious approach to the encouragement to my backside. I heard one or two unusually loud crop cracks as leather met bare bottom, but by the time Mistress reached that stage I was beyond hurting and simply arched my buttocks to offer my cheeks for more kisses from the crop.


In almost no time I was into my red latex catsuit to accompany the matching gloves and socks that I had changed into during my brief trip to The Bathroom. I managed the suit almost on my own, but needed a little assistance with getting my arms comfortably installed. I have to admit I do like that bit of assistance and the gentle touch of Mistress’s hands that goes with it.

Maggie gave me a rub down to remove any talc splashes, and to help Maggie so she didn't have to bend down I finished the cleaning below the knees. I was now ready for my butt plug, which slipped in easily once lubed and I am starting to feel there is something missing when I am not wearing it.


With our Initial preparations over we adjourned to The Clinic where my view was drawn to a very neatly arranged series of red rubber straps, and the surprise of the new red hood that Mistress had invested in sitting precisely on The Couch where my head would be. There was nothing unusual about this neat arrangement as Mistress has always been so organised with her preparation and it is these little details that help define Mistress as the best of the best.


It didn't take long for the straps to be re-arranged and placed at appropriate points around my body and arms. Once they were all fastened I had no arm movement and was once again totally under control. I could still walk but that didn’t last for long, once I’d arranged myself on the couch as instructed my legs were strapped together in the same way. 


In preparation for aroma deployment Maggie taped a cannula in place; a superb piece of kit designed and made by Maggie's husband, the new hood fitted like a second skin over the cannula, it’s front outer cover remained open for the moment and I felt truly relaxed.


A group of four T.E.N.S. electrodes were placed in the area above my groin and immediately turned on, and there they stayed, pulsing away for virtually the remainder of the session, creating the most frustrating yet exciting feeling. Frustrating because they were just outside the range to allow my release yet exciting because the sensation was akin to Mistress gently massaging and stroking that area.

Two further e-stim circuits were added through the groin area, but with my legs bound together it was hard to open the zip sufficiently, making it tricky for Mistress to place the electrodes where they were wanted and getting the circuit live. Perseverance is always the name of the game and eventually I was subjected to all circuits sending their random sensations about my lower body. 


Ah, the main event. Hurray! Big ball time!


I couldn't see what Mistress was applying to my cock and balls, it turned out to be some kind of mesh bag, red of course in keeping with Maggie's theme. It was tied in place with a tight string capturing my cock and balls. Looking at the pictures, that whole area reminded me of a vegetable bag for holding carrots. Strange how my mind works at times, 


My cannula tube was attached to the aroma pump now, and once Maggie had added a quantity of my favourite aromas to the system I was privileged to receive my first pump of the day. Its effect was instant, sending me into a deeper state of relaxation, which was just as well because the next event was the installation of two needles for delivering the saline.


With the sterile environment created round my abdomen I barely felt the two needle pricks being pushed into my scrotum, and was almost dropping off to sleep when Mistress announced the drips were set up and both were running nicely. It’s a fairly slow process and there is little or no feeling of your scrotum being expanded.

Aware of the 'dead' time between starting the filling and the ball sac accepting the whole litre of saline solution, Mistress would be including some training activities to keep me engaged while the hours whiled by. I knew my nipples were about to receive attention when my nipple zips were opened and my nipples treated to a talcing. 


Out came a pair of nipple towers the nipple training started, I really did not appreciate these pesky bits of equipment, they had to be screwed so tight to obtain even the weakest of grips and frequently had to be reattached after each nipple in turn made a break for freedom. The repeated re-attachment makes for a severe test of willpower, but more importantly they were starting to annoy Mistress and ultimately they were consigned to the bin. Maggie left to find something more 'suitable'. 


Returning with the Tower Of Pain, another fiendish creation by Maggie's husband, John. Mistress was far more happy using this, it seemed to work a treat and even when its clamps stretched my nipples ‘til taut I was able to breath through the pain, not without help from my nurse’s magical medicinal aromas being fed through my cannula of course. It showed how much I was under Mistress’s spell when I accepted her kind offer of some cream to sooth my nipples, which were quite elongated by now.


The cream was presented in a petri dish and my kind nurse carefully applied it to each of my nipples with a cotton bud. It had a slight warming effect but that didn’t deter me from from saying yes when offered some more. It turned out to be Deep Heat. Normally this would make me flinch, but today, just the opposite, I had nothing to complain about, after all I had my kind caring, considerate owner looking after my poor nipples, and not wishing to waste the contents of her petri dish she also visited my balls and devilishly applied the remaining cream randomly about them. That didn't register at all, possibly the saline insulated the pain?


As my scrotum continued to fill I was finally treated to the full effect of the new latex hood, when its outer hood was zipped all the way up over my face it acted like a rebreather hood, yet being a transparent latex I could see through it and watch as my Mistress went about her business, something I’ve not been able to do for a long time, another advantage is that the rubber does not appear to steam up so the vision is never degraded. I was also handed the aromas pump ball that allowed me to self medicate. I really cannot speak too highly of the new hood which was a great surprise and will serve as a memento of my 250th session with Maggie.

I think in the couple of hours of ‘filling time' we did not achieve the full litre, Maggie estimated my balls had about 800mm of saline. That was that in terms of available time, but when released from the carrot bag I was encouraged to have a little walk around then through to The Playroom to feel my ball’s heavy weight and admire our handywork in the full length mirror. 


I just had a homogenous blob where once my useless cock and balls were, in their place I now had a useless football between my legs. By no way unusual when filled with saline, the whole area felt cold, but it felt truly great to know that my owner had been able to perform this operation on her very willing slave.


A quick trip to The Bathroom had me soaking the towel that had a few spattering's of blood and I rather erroneously announced that the British Army wore red coats to hide the blood and justified this buy quoting the film Zulu! I just hope that Mistress Maggie doesn't take umbrage. I Googled it and the British Army's red coats, or "redcoats," were primarily a result of practical and economic factors rather than a deliberate choice for camouflage or intimidation. Red dye. Sorry Mistress.


As the final accolade to session 250, Mistress deemed fit to stamp me with her seal of approval above each nipple. It wore off the next time I showered, but I was honoured to wear it for even a short period:



NB: This 1:55 sec clip has audio