A Wild Time Swinging

In all my seven years with my excellent Mistress Maggie, one thing has become an annual ritual at this time of year. The plum catsuit I was instructed to bring was somewhat of a give away. Each time I wear it I seem to end up flying round the Playroom and today, once more, it was to be the Flight of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

My little green friends.

Maggie started the session by kicking me in the teeth, literally! It was when I was worshipping her low pointed shoes. I moved at the wrong time while she was crossing her legs and caught her movement full face. Of course it was my fault. Of course it didn't hurt and of course Mistress had no cause to apologise; it says so in her rule book. Rules after all are rules and I continued, undamaged, with my worship.

I was soon fitted into the suit before being assisted into the heavy leather suspension harness. Maggie paid particular attention to tight shoulder straps, tight crotch strap, tight waist strap and a tight cock strap on which she clipped a rein. Once I was attached to the overhead gantry, one by one, each foot was clamped to a spreader bar behind me and I was left happily flying. As I swung to and fro Mistress smiled that wonderful smile and said I could enjoy a wild time swinging but it would be wise to avoid any nettles, as, in the event that I got stung it was inevitable that she’d be landed with the job of sorting me out.

With momentum provided by Mistress, I was swinging freely and very happily, when, as if by magic, this pot of rather unruly stingers appeared and were strategically placed between my pinioned legs.

It is bloody hard to avoid nettles when you are being swung backwards and forwards by an attached cock lead straight into their path. Maggie was amused saying ‘I warned you to keep away from the nettles slave!’

After the initial stinging sensation the stings turned to a pleasant tingling, and I smiled at my beautiful Mistress and tried to swing even more vigorously through the little green friends. I felt like a kid again and was having an excellent swing, but I must have either swooned with pleasure or fainted, because the next thing I knew Mistress was in front of me holding a mask over my mouth, administering her magic reviving gas. It was strange, I felt no way unwell and was very eager to carry on.

Once back on the ground I was stripped of my rubber catsuit and told to give myself a good towelling down. Feeling fully refreshed and revitalised I was dusted with talcum and taken to the Clinic to have my nettle itch seen to, then with my arms crossed across my chest I was sealed into a latex upper body-bag. It was a little tight at first, I am a fat slave after all, but once in and zipped up it is most comfortable, albeit a most restrictive garment to wear. ‘It's for your own good slave, to stop you scratching your itchy cock and balls’ , said Maggie and my rubber patient look was further complimented with the addition of a stripy translucent hood.

Deep Heat cock and balls

Before I knew it, Maggie was removing all the itchy nettle spores with a piece of gaffer tape and had gently completed a full sterile catheter insertion, so that I was ready for other remedies that might be required. I know I have mentioned it before but Maggie really is good with those catheters!

Mistress moved her latex hand along my cock and balls. ‘Do they still itch slave?’ Of course I said yes, because hopefully it would mean more cock and ball treatment from a very beautiful, if perhaps a little sadistic rubber nurse. Not that it would have made any difference if I’d said no, because Maggie was clearly intent on teaching me a lesson after messing about in her nettle crop.

‘I have cream that might help with rashes’, she said. Ah! - The application of her anti-inflammatory lotion sounded very soothing. I was on a winner here, until I caught the briefest of glimpses through my latex hood and spotted what I recognised as a tube of Deep Heat. Followed by the feel of its liberal application all over my cock and balls.

That should stop me scratching.

This is a truly insidious treatment for nettle rash. What starts off as a wonderfully soothing experience slowly turns to torture as the effects of the cream gradually 'warm up' your bits. I managed increasing amounts of deep heat for as long as I could to please my nurse, but eventually the extreme hotness was becoming unbearable and I whimpered to Maggie that I couldn't cope.

Fortunately, after returning from a quick trip to the bathroom to fetch a bowl of water, a good soapy wash resulted in a rapid cooling and calming of my suffering appendage. I didn't know that you could nullify the effects by washing off the cream. You learn something every day!

As I said, Mistress really cares for her patients and wanted to help prevent me from aggravating my itchy balls by scratching them. ‘No worries’ Maggie reassured me ‘I have an alternative treatment’.

Out from the medical cupboard came the adhesive bandage. I couldn't see much if anything, but could feel Mistress doing a thorough job with the bandages producing yet another very pleasant feeling. Round and round, then a gentle squeeze, making sure the bandage was well attached and doing its job. Even a thoughtful steel band was assembled and padlocked in place round the balls, to ensure that they didn't manage to wheedle their way out of their bindings.

Nurse Maggie conducted a final inspection of my nettle affected area, and despite my cock and balls being heavily bandaged she believed I would benefit from some other precautionary measures.

What self respecting slave is going to turn down another opportunity to have his dangly, or now not so dangly bits administered to by a beautiful nurse? I almost did when I saw the size of the syringes she was preparing and her reasoning for doing so. ‘I think an antihistamine jab is in order.’ 

And so it was that my final treatment for nettle stings was administered. Three medicated syringes were inserted into my lower abdomen, their needles pointing towards my bandaged cock as Nurse Maggie slowly injected the contents.

I wish all nurses were so good and caring as I really felt no more than three small pricks as the needles went in. On the other hand Maggie had just the one prick to deal with, albeit a much larger and heavily bandaged one by now. I am most pleased to say that both nurse and her nettle stung patient were happy with the session outcome.

A rather painful unravelling of the very sticky bandage from my genitals brought the annual jamboree to a close. I was delighted that Mistress Maggie had continued the nettling ceremony, delighted that I had survived for another year and thankful that I am lucky enough to be owned by a most beautiful rubber nurse who knows how best to treat her patients.

I am already looking forward to the next event and will even attempt to cultivate a few nettles, away from sight, behind the . . .

Vac Packed BIG Balls

Probably the nicest day so far in 2019. The sky had a few wispy clouds but was predominantly blue and the temperature soared into the mid teens. Virtually no wind and all in all a perfect day for serving my owner. Mistress Maggie prefers to choose what rubber I’m dressed in so I arrived in vanilla clothes with the single adornment of my slave collar. The winter bug which had smote me during my last visit was almost gone, just a slight sniffle going on, but nothing else to dampen my enthusiasm for the wonderful session which lay ahead.

Slowly I made my way down the road towards The Chambers dawdling for a few moments to check the time, even the traffic was benign. When the time came, I sauntered across the road carrying my perv bag and rang the doorbell. From that moment my day just got better and better as Maggie greeted me in tight latex, a narrow skirt and tight low cut bodice skimmed her curves and a most brilliant white wig framed her face, giving a stark contrast to the very dark latex and the effect was absolutely stunning.

Taking dainty steps Mistress announced her skirt was a little too tight to walk in and every few steps she stopped abruptly, ostensibly to readjust her balance before smoothing down her skirt and continuing up the stairs to The Playroom. Not a word was said but I have become aware of Maggie's mischievous tempting ways and was alert to these abrupt pauses, it would have been so easy to bump my face against those glorious orbs and the thought certainly passed my mind with each stop, but I didn't. Instead I smiled a lustful grin but kept my distance until safely in the warmth of The Playroom.

The unusually warm February day also appeared to have caught Mistresses heater on the hop. Normally Maggie has a wonderful ambiance in the room but today in an attempt to warm up the rubber for the session the temperature had become a little too warm for comfort, hobbling over to the corner Maggie slammed the dial down and soon the heat would be under control. The time gave me opportunity to check out the goodies that had been laid out, the most prominent being the vacbed. It had been a while since I’d been incarcerated inside it and it looked like it was going to be another of those lucky days! I also spied the wonderful thin red latex suit that Maggie had designed and created herself; loose fitting and incredibly comfortable to wear. Oh boy, with the vacbed and the special suit, was this latex loving slave in for a real treat or what?

Alternate use of the Medical Drape - Suffocation!

First though I was asked for a full report on my health following my very poor performance in the previous session. I knew I had disappointed Maggie with my stupidity and had managed to contravene two cardinal rules in the process. I’d over exaggerating my plight by saying ‘I’m dying’ and had failed to observe Rule 17 - slave must endeavour to keep Mistress enlightened at all times.

Though there was no threat of physical punishment I could see how disappointed she was with me by the look in her eyes as she recounted what had happened. The hardest part was the calm chastisement that Mistress gave for my actions; a punishment that will stay with me far longer than any cane marks, electrical torture or other form of retribution which I might deserve. Put simply, after 159 sessions I really should have known better. I am also fortunate that Mistress does not bear any form of a grudge (I hope) and once I had reassured her that I was determined not to make the same mistakes again we quickly progressed to the meat of today's session.

I was stood to attention gazing at my beautiful Mistress as she gently reached inside her bodice and with that silky smooth whisper said ‘I have something for you slave’. A length of black 'pothole' tights emerged. ‘From a a brand new pair, just for you', she declared. Then taking the red latex suit in one hand and leading her slave with the other I was escorted to the Clinic.

Parallel infusions - one each side of the ballsac

After teasing me with what else may be inside that tight bodice - as if I didn't know, the catsuit in a very appropriate ‘clinic red’ was handed over to me so I could prepare myself for the operation ahead. As I carefully began dressing it started to dawn on me what was likely to happen next because I spied two bags of saline solution hanging idly from the IV stand. Maggie progressed to helping me with the zippers, arranging them so I could bend to have an inflatable butt plug inserted and my genitals were left exposed, otherwise I was fully covered in latex and feeling wonderful.

I was helped onto the waiting couch, settled in and given that rather nice white latex hood before finally being strapped down to await the infusion. There really wasn’t much I could do now, but if I tried really hard I was just able to move my left hand to stroke Mistresses bottom whenever it came within range, which happened on all too few occasions.

The next stage was truly delightful - one might say the calm before the storm. Mistress took a good handful of cocoa butter and methodically massaged it all over the scrotal area to make it more soft and pliable. Lying there relaxing as this most beautiful woman plays with your balls is idyllic.

Mistress clearly had some high spirits to get rid of before the serious work of the scrotal infusion, and once finished massaging me she promptly placed the plastic sheet intended for surrounding my operation site over my head, stretching it over my face and smothered me with it. For those few minutes I just lay there enjoying the smothering and inhaling the glorious plastic smell that exudes from it. After that I found out what the pothole tights were for, on previous occasions when Mistress has inflated my ball sac it was left to expand at its own rate, but on this occasion Maggie carefully fixed the piece of stocking over my cock and balls to add restriction as the ball sac expanded. Hmm, that should prove interesting.

Nipple extension at the same time as scrotal inflation. Excellent!

The cannulas were now being expertly inserted, one per side due to the potential litre payload. Sterile tubes were being removed from their packaging and being thoroughly checked for kinks. Once satisfied Mistress allowed the saline to flow, clearing the lines of any unwelcome bubbles before attaching them to her slave. A procedure so gentle I barely notice the infusion and the most pain I felt was a tiny prick as the needles went in. From my strapped down position the drip feed was visible and everything appeared to be running smoothly, though the drip rate to the right ball was comparatively slower resulting in a new cannula being fitted to rectify the issue.

It takes quite a while for the full infusion, and rather than idle away the time Maggie had decided that remedial work would be undertaken on my recalcitrant nipples. They’ve been particularly unhelpful recently, particularly the left one, and Mistress was about to begin her campaign to make them more grabable!. A few lungfuls of relaxing aromas came my way and then I felt the first dollop of lube being applied to my nipples. ‘This will ensure a good airtight grip slave’, then using circular motions Maggie massaged it in and applied one of her large size vac pumps to each nipple.

Pothole tights create the final masterpiece of control.

Just three slow pumps and those pumps were sucking up a lot more than just a nipple! I probably shouldn't say this but it was an almost enjoyable experience due to the aromas. I was totally nonplussed, however, to demonstrate the pleasures and pains that can be created by nipples Maggie freed hers from the confines of her tight bodice and rather erotically held them for her captured slaves’ frustrated admiration.

Mistress had more work planned and inspecting the saline bags and how full her pothole tights had become she concluded that 750ml was about right for the effect she wished to achieve. I think she was rather pleased with the aesthetics because she kept gently stroking my ball sac, whereas I was definitely pleased that my beautiful Mistress was gently stroking my ball sac and it had nothing to do with aesthetics!

As an aside, another of those impromptu amusing moments occurred as Maggie removed the sterile drape. It had gone on alright but due to my extraordinary ball size she had to resort to bringing out her scissors and cutting it off. No, not my cock or balls, that would be a waste of good saline, but the single use drape!

Moving swiftly on, I was instructed to carefully dismount from the couch and bend over to have my butt plug deflated, out it came and an electrode was wired up and shoved up my now vacant rear. Holding the leads out of the way we made our way back to The Playroom where I was divested of the thin red operating suit. Once again I mustn’t damage it so followed Mistress’ instructions, as I always do. Once in the warmth Maggie passed me a large towel so I could thoroughly dry myself, and for the first time I could really enjoy the unusual feeling of my heavyweight balls, still encased in Maggie’s restricting tights. A few puffs of talc and I was ready to climb inside the vacbed.

A well defined, vac-packed inflated ballsac

The vacbed is side entry, an ample size for a porky slave like me to scramble into and take my position under the breathing hole. Because of my recent throat problems Mistress thoughtfully provided a neck cushion to raise my head a little, with an anaesthetic mask and tube strapped to my head I was soon settled down to what promised to be a most interesting and spectacular finale, starting with Maggie actually climbing inside the bag. Well, half of her, so she could attach sticky electro pads on me, two rows of pads were attached, eight in all, starting adjacent to my inflated balls and ending halfway up my chest.

With so many wires I must have looked like a telephone exchange, but Maggie managed to bundle them all up neatly, connecting them to the corresponding controls on the outside of the bag and tested them out. ‘Are you receiving slave? Are you receiving?’ 

Then the real fun started. The air inside the bed was pumped out and Maggie left the pump running to maintain the strong vacuum resulting in my total immobilisation. On went the anal electrode. That was quite pleasant and 'tingly' on its own even when raised to quite a high level, but what really started me gyrating were the two rows of chest electrodes, each independently controlled and not quite synchronised. First a pulse, pulse, tingle, throb on the left side followed closely by a pulse, pulse, tingle throb on the right side to be repeated at frequent, regular intervals. All automatic of course apart from Mistress occasionally turning up the volume until all eight pads reached an eventual high at level 14. By this time, I was hopping about inside the vacbed and getting quite excited, all helped by snorts of aroma through the aroma pump hose that Maggie had rigged up to my only air source, and the sensual touches of her hands as she stroked me through my tight latex covering.

WARNING: This 70 second clip of my pulsating vac bed experience has audio:-

Unknown to me, Maggie was intent on bringing me to climax today, her Hitachi being her weapon of choice. There was absolutely nothing I could do or wanted to do to prevent the inevitable. This time the forced climax was like no other I had experienced. My balls were massively inflated and by now my cock shaft was inflated as well, the ejaculation seemed to go on for ever. Normally it fires out and is over relatively swiftly, but today because of the restrictions the pleasure lasted so much longer.

I think Mistress was pleased with the results of today's training because as I was leaning over the bath helping Maggie clean up, a hand reached in from behind and was ’tossing’ and ’weighing' my balls as you might assess oranges, or pears in a supermarket. I certainly wasn't complaining at that extra fondle!

And finally, I do enjoy having massive inflated balls, it’s quite an experience to handle them, but fortunately or unfortunately after 24 hours they do return to almost normal leaving me with the desire for another trip to Mistress Maggie’s enticing domain.

Well and Truly Stitched Up!

In total contrast to my last session where Mistress Maggie gave absolutely no hint of where the session was going, I received a positive steer in the 24 hour calling mail.

‘I have decided to kill two birds with one stone and bring my hobbies into the playroom. You shall be the first to witness me becoming re-acquainted with one of my old favourites and will be strapped down in my leather craft.’

A striped right buttock.

Not particularly enamoured with the killing reference and a fraction vague about the strapping down, I thought it best to have a re-read through Maggie’s website for clues on how her hobbies might be used, and concluded that I may well become the tailors dummy for her dressmaking. This conclusion was reinforced by one of Mistresses tweets that landed at around midday on my session date. I recommend having a look at this tweet, not because it reinforces session activity but because of the spectacularly beautiful photograph that Mistress has provided to accompany the text, and also because the same stunning red vision is exactly what greeted me when I was invited into the Chambers.

Mistress says her red catsuit is a little tight; I prefer to call the vision of my owner in her close-fitting red catsuit an image of perfection for a rubber lover. I suppose I agree though, it is tight, but definitely in all the right places!

Those long, long PVC boots are a delight to kiss, lick, suck and generally worship. One long lick can get me all the way from the heel to the middle of Mistress Maggie's thighs, no further though as those are the rules, to worship Maggie’s footwear only. But it does give me the opportunity to glide my tongue right to the very top, where I can sneak a peek at just how tight and form fitting Maggie's red catsuit actually is. Every now and then and when it was in the appropriate position, Mistress would idly flick her cane across my bare right buttock, not particularly hard but sufficient to give me four or five very nice stripes. Mistress also made good use of her chunky heels, lining them up with my backside she forced my butt plug deep inside where it stayed until our session was ended.

I wasn't left so undressed for long as Mistress said that there was plenty that needed to be done and had me quickly inserted into my own red catsuit. We actually looked like twins, not identical of course; Mistress is elegant, slim, beautiful and dominant, whereas I ain’t, but we were now both fully clothed in red latex.

I was led through to the Clinic where there was even more latex laid out for me. Carefully, I was fitted into the awaiting operating suit and rubber re-breather hood. Sat upright and strapped onto the operating couch Mistress told me to just sit and breathe, as she had some things to prepared for the next phase. I did as I was told as I always do, quietly sitting and breathing in and out through the two tiny breathing holes that Maggie had provided for me. My slow breaths needed concentration to maintain sufficient ventilation, but luckily I have had practise with the hood before and was able to stay calm as I gazed through the semitransparent latex at my vision in red, busying herself and preparing . . .

The room started to reorientate as the operating couch was reclined. Momentarily I had clarity of the situation as Mistress removed the rebreather, satisfied I had received sufficient breath play for now at least. Then I progressed to a less lucid state, first to tunnel vision as the red gas mask was fitted, then more relaxed as Maggie pumped in a couple of bulbfuls of aroma and finally it all went hissy quiet.

Mistress knew one of my senses has always been available to me, because no matter what hood was used or how many hoods for that matter I could still hear what was going on. The faint footfall as Maggie moved around, the quiet opening and closing of the door, the swish of Mistresses clothing and of course instructions as to what was about to happen. That all abruptly ended. Mistress deployed her wi-fi headphones and with the click of a button all I could hear was white noise; static; the kind of hiss that you get from an un-tuned radio and loud enough to obliterate all other sounds. That is one more and probably the final sense under my Mistresses total control.

My remaining sense of sight soon joined my loss of hearing with the snugly fitting eye blanks deployed across the gas mask portholes. My total contact with reality was now reduced to the occasional gentle touch from my Mistress. It feels surreal and so so right that my owner now has the capability to have her slave under her total control.

Of course I could still feel, and as Mistress pulled my cock and balls through the zip openings to the outside of my suits I knew I was still alive. I sensed what I believed to be the creation of a sterile operating environment and I had a vision in my hiss filled mind of being in the presence of a goddess, her touch electric, and I had also in my mind a red vision and thought I must be in heaven, or hell even with all the redness, but it felt more like heaven.

I am fairly certain that Mistress approached my left ear and said something. It might have been my imagination, but whatever it was, was inaudible and so disjointed that it could have been just a dream. What definitely wasn't a dream was the manhandling and manipulation of my cock, balls and scrotum by Maggie’s hands. By now I was suspecting that if Mistress’ sutures were intended for me her needlework would be aimed at that part of my anatomy. Maggie might have mentioned my fate but I could hear nothing nor see what was about to happen.

The first stitch was gentle and barely brought me from my hissing dreamland. I tried to follow the progress wondering if I would have any cock and balls left, oh well they are Maggie's property after all, so que sera sera. Strangely, I thought of the third line of the song 'the futures not ours to see' and dreamed how appropriate it was to my present predicament. Maybe is was the medicinal aromas combined with a lack of sound and sight, but I just felt deliriously happy.

The stitching continued, interspersed with what I assume was Mistress standing back to survey the scene and plan the next couple of sutures, or she may have just popped out. I had no way of telling but I just knew Maggie would be there as she does attend and care for her slaves, especially during such taxing situations! Another short session of stitching and another short break and this time I was certain she was there because of the gentlest strokes of my groin. I wont say cock and balls because I couldn't tell what was left down there.

I could feel everything being tightened, tucked and sewn out of harms way, and I have to admit that some of the later stitches definitely made their presence known, one or two were quite painful making me jolt and howl. Still it made a welcome relief from the hissing white noise that continued to fill up my gas mask and obscure all my senses. Mistress responded to my increased pain levels by administering more aroma shots and that certainly helped me relax, until finally Mistress must have been satisfied with her procedure and the needling stopped. The hiss gently subsided to nothing and a hypnotic sexy voice whispered through the headphones something along the lines of 'you will do anything for your Mistress . . .  follow me to a rubber world’. I am certain I heard this although with the prolonged sensory deprivation I had experienced I may well have heard my own dreams.

I think my cock is in there somewhere!

It was during the latter parts of being well and truly stitched up that a strange phenomena happened. Laying there minding my own business and in the midst of a slightly painful pricking moment, slowly and without any fuss I ejaculated. Slow, quiet and of course without an erection, as by then my cock must have been stitched up inside my scrotal sac, and well, incapable of getting hard. No explosion, no sense of tiredness afterwards, but I knew it happened, I’d cum. Talk about wet dreams!

I am certain Mistress knew that might happen as I have done the same previously when I have been stapled up. Being blind there was no way I could gauge Maggie’s reaction, but with barely a pause the next needle went in and she carried on stitching as if nothing had happened. I have no idea as to where the ejaculate went or indeed if there was any, it wasn't until my hood and blindfold came off that I could ask Maggie about that strange happening and her answer only demonstrates how detached I was from what was happening in her operating area.

‘Yes, I saw you cum you messy perverted slave. I had to sponge it up and change gloves before I could carry on with my hobby!’

As Mistress removed my red hood and my eyes slowly became accustomed to the bright lights of the Clinic and the Clinic sounds became  crystal clear, I once again saw my vision in red and was able to ask about my dreams and say thank you to Mistress for all her hard work. However, as far as Maggie was concerned we had not reached the end. Pleased with her progress so far she happily announced that it was time to begin the final part of my operation.

She may not have been altogether ecstatic about the size of my remaining scrotum, so after re-fitting the rebreather hood, I was told I was to receive a boost to my ball size. Maggie really is an expert with deploying a cannula and no sooner said than done. Into my scrotum, bag of saline hung on the iv stand, connected to scrotum and a good flow of about 400ml dripped into my somewhat strange looking sac.

All I could think about was how, with all that stitching could my sac actually accommodate all that fluid. I had visions of me leaking like a sieve through all the suture puncture holes. That, of course didn't happen and what a strange feeling. I wanted to become erect but no chance. My scrotum was filled with saline and I loved the sensations. By now, I was a master of the re-breather and I thought how fortunate I am to have provided Mistress with a vehicle to return the art of scrotum sewing to her slaves menu and to facilitate ‘ . . . two birds with one stone. . .’ 

Standing up in front of a mirror I was allowed to admire the sheer artistry and graceful lines that had been used to create a mangina. The stitches were real stitches, nice and black with real surgical twine. My saline filled ball sac may have looked strange, but felt both weighty and fantastic. Unfortunately I was unable to return home with my inflated mangina and Mistress ordered me back up on the couch for stitch removal. I was surprised at how strong the thread is as Mistress Maggie left one tail in place for me to take out by myself. Its extraction didn't hurt but took quite a lot of tugging to remove the twine. I am glad that Mistress didn't leave me with all the stitches to remove at home!

One final comment. Waterproof pants are useful things to wear on your way home, as saline does start to leak out and can look like you have pee'd yourself! I have now tried staples and actual suturing with Mistress and they are very different sensations. Hmm, staples or stitches? I am not sure which I prefer.

Bladder Wash

Not to be confused with Fucus Vesiculosus, or to give it its more normal title, bladder wrack. That is a seaweed with considerable health benefit, whereas Bladder Wash refers to the reverse engineering that Mistress Maggie was keen to try and which I had naturally volunteered for. It may sound a little perverse, but as Maggie's slave I get a real buzz from being able to assist with Maggie’s projects and do something in return for all the hard work that she puts into my training, while offering myself as Maggie's guinea pig always results in wonderful new experiences.

On this occasion, my first task was to attend to Mistresses red ankle boots, with their red cross medical insignia they are a perfect match for her red latex stockings, and a pretty sure sign that I would be venturing into her clinic today. Mistress said that it had been a while since she had worn her nurse boots and being a little neglected they were in need of some TLC.

As I lay on the carpet lovingly and eagerly cleaning the boots Maggie asked if I was prepared to receive another saline infusion. Not into my balls this time but direct into my catheterised bladder. She had undertaken all the research, established it is a routine medical procedure but couldn't find any accounts of how the patient was feeling. This aspect was what Maggie was particularly interested in and wanted a commentary of how the infusion was affecting her subject.

However, before adjourning to the clinic to have my catheter inserted, I had asked Maggie to help measure me for a new garment I am hoping to buy. For an all too short a while I stood to attention, stark naked and happy for my Mistress to put a tape round here, there and everywhere until all twenty-two measurements were accurately recorded. I was then helped into my plum coloured latex suit and led off down the corridor.

Mistress is an expert in catheterisation and quickly had one inserted and attached to the 500ml bag of saline hanging on her drip stand. Despite the number of successful inserts, Maggie meticulously follows her routine of creating a clean, sterile environment for all similar operations. I just lay there, tightly strapped to the couch watching the drip of the saline gradually finding its way down the catheter and into the receptacle that was my bladder. All the while I was reporting back that there was no discomfort, and only towards the end of the 500ml did I detect any change. Although I had visited the loo before the session had started, after half a litre I was beginning to feel like I had a full bladder again.

While the last few drips were bladder bound Mistress filled her time by lacing up a leather cock corset around my cock, then pulling those laces tight. Electrodes were added next around my exposed balls and the e-stim set at Program 7, level 20; a very acceptable setting that I am sure most slaves will find stimulating and not torturous. With a little laugh I detected some amusement from Mistress, brought on by the tightness of her clever corsetry. 'There slave, that will help retain the fluids already dammed by your catheter and the electrodes will provide a little stirring for the extra liquid I've just infused'. 

I couldn’t work out if Maggie was pleased with the results so far but she went on to massage my filled bladder quite extensively to see if that elicited any further reaction. Oh and I nearly forgot. Mistress had opened my nipple zips and paid a lot of attention to playing with my buds and boy did I get some attention. So much so I had to self administer several hefty doses of aroma that Maggie had thoughtfully rigged up to anaesthetise her patient.

By this time, the combination of nipple tweaking, electrics and full bladder were definitely having an effect and I had to report a sharp increase in libido, the fact that Maggie kept admiring and stroking her corseted cock only added to the sensation. It was all that I could manage to prevent an embarrassing leak round the tight catheter tube!

Clamped and satisfied that my full bladder wasn’t going to be emptied until Maggie was ready, we made our way back to the Playroom where Mistress fetched the PVC sheet and unfolded it in the centre of the floor. That generally means one thing: I am to receive a generous helping of Mistresses nectar. Ah the sheer pleasure at the thought of her gift… I was instructed to kneel head down and wait whilst Maggie undid my back zip and started the next scene.

I heard gaffer tape being stripped from the roll and the first piece was strategically taped to my bum, then the second and a third. It then dawned on me that I had seen a picture recently and Maggie must be trying to recreate the very artistic taping. Judging by the photo, Mistress created an anal masterpiece. I think the use of white tape was a brilliant decision as my stretched opening was highlighted to perfection.

Obviously she was still not finished with my fluid infusion. Mistress fetched her Shenis and used my asterisk shaped asshole as the target for its aim, promptly scoring bullseye with the whole contents of her bladder. I think I couldn’t achieve a high enough bum position for complete Shenis entry as I did spill quite a bit on the PVC, but that is what it was there for after all. An inflatable bung was duly stuffed up my part-filled bottom, sealing it against unauthorised discharge.

Well, I can’t say that I hadn’t been forewarned, Maggie had briefly mentioned water in the calling mail she had sent to me.

 ‘As fit for an Aquarian Mistress, it will be water water everywhere, but will there be any to drink?'

Indeed, there was water everywhere and I was now being instructed to drink it. As I eagerly sucked it up, filling my bladder in a more typical perverse method, Maggie allowed me to consume all the spillage.

Feedback after acting as guinea pig for Maggie’s reverse engineered catheter? - I loved the whole experience. I always relieve myself pre-session to avoid moaning about needing the loo, so 500ml was easily accommodated in my empty bladder. The extra fluid consumption from the sheet was starting to make its presence felt as the session drew to a close and a few more minutes for it to percolate through and I would have had a slightly uncomfortable bladder. The Shenis was a nice touch for enema delivery but due to its angle, not a lot ended up as enema. And I must say that it is a good job I try and keep my body hair-free, because when Mistress Maggie removed the white tape it certainly got rid of any hairs I’d missed. OUCH!

And finally, with the inflated plug up my arse, it does make my rear look a little like a daffodil. Most appropriate as spring is coming.

Not at all What I Expected!

The unusually unambiguous comments that Mistress Maggie sent to me in her calling mail had me thinking that something strange was about to happen.

What liberties a captor takes changing the shape of her captive prey.
As she makes you smell her essence, her medicine and latex presence
You must not move, just await your fate, as she finds which parts she can inflate.

The guidance in the call up mail is usually non-specific and leaves a great deal to my imagination. I usually spend the next 24 hours trying to second guess what delights my owner may have in store, but this appeared quite clear; a good dose of latex, strict and immovable bondage, aromas, a spot of bum licking (I am getting most accomplished at this most enjoyable of pastimes) and my balls to be saline inflated; I know Mistress has a penchant for occasionally enjoying her slave with huge balls so that was settled and I would be spending some time secured in the Clinic. It couldn’t be that obvious could it?

No! Things took a bizarre twist when I rang Mistress to confirm arrangements, an hour before our session time as I always do. It must be fate because I usually text, but for some reason I had to use the land-line and imagine my confusion when Mistress said she had three instructions for when I arrive:

1) Ring the doorbell
2) Remove and store my glasses
3) Turn away from the door and observe the street.

After having had 23 hours with a good idea as to what was about to happen, this curved ball really got me. At the door I did as instructed, standing nonchalantly I watched the passing traffic. A moment later I heard the door open and my collar was yanked violently backwards and I was forced face against the front porch and promptly hooded. My head was starting to spin, assisted by a liberal application of aromas from a gloved hand and I was dragged upstairs. I wasn’t even told to remove my footwear, and all the while what felt like a Taser* was forced under my chin. I know my Mistress is very capable of delivering a shock but this treatment was uncharacteristically rough and I did have a real worry that she would use the shocking implement.

I remained compliant and very docile, dropping my trousers when ordered. The gate to the cell was unlocked, I was pushed inside and told to sit down on the awaiting chair, whilst the Taser* went downwards towards my exposed balls. Sitting was a little difficult, because strapped in the centre of the wooden chair seat was a huge black dildo, placed exactly where my by now naked bum should go.

It took a few awkward attempts but eventually I was fixed firmly to the chair and I must admit that I was starting to warm to my dominant captor. I really will have to practice that same manoeuvre at home; getting my own butt plug inserted. Perhaps sticking it to the closed toilet seat might work?

Her interrogation technique was quite simple. Confuse with apparently disjointed questions, threaten the subject with the Taser and elicit the information.

‘Last time you did not know how to carry a tray and was sloppy with cleaning . . . not normal for a regular slave . . . must be working under a false identity . . . are you really Mistress Maggie's slave? . . . name slave?’

This last question should have been a simple answer but I didn’t appear to give the answer that she wanted.

‘Slave. . . jo. . . jo nep. . . Mistress Maggie’s slave . . .  ’. I even tried the birth name that my parents had given me, but to no avail.

‘OK, so you do not even know your name. Do you have any distinguishing marks?’

Ah, I was quite certain now that I could prove that I was my Mistresses property and mentioned my guiche.

Focusing on this revelation my captor discouraged further contradictions or 'lies' by securing a scarf round my mouth and ordered me out of the cage. I was told to assume a position whereby I was to kneel on the carpet, bum still naked and my trousers still round my ankles for further investigation and interrogation. The further investigation was a bit of an understatement and the further interrogation, verbally at least, was somewhat restricted by the tight knotted gag.

I may not have been able to see but I was fairly certain that it was my owner investigating the distinguishing features around my bum. Not satisfied that she had all the evidence despite a good fondle of the guiche, she applied copious quantities of lube to my bum and in went her hand to feel around for additional ID. After that I was mounted there and then; head on carpet, arse in the air and in with the strap-on phallus. Yes that is definitely my owner and I was finally able to relax a little.

My captor however was still unconvinced by my slave identity and required more persuasion. She insisted that any genuine slave of Maggie’s would not mind being kept as a latex prisoner, to confirm the truth I would be subsequently clothed in tight head to toe latex with all my senses at her disposal.

By now, the mid European accent was fading to the music that is my Mistress’s voice. Kneeling up I was ordered to remove my jeans and the other clothes that were tangled around my ankles, and the latex T-shirt that I am sometimes able to wear for arriving at the Chambers. At last I was finally able to clearly see my Mistress clad in her wonderful gold latex catsuit as I was instructed to remove the black interrogation hood. I was to wear my plum coloured latex suit and it really is a wonderful experience to be helped inside a tight catsuit by a stunningly attractive owner and to be cleaned and polished once done. It is my belief that every slave should be allowed this marvellous experience at least once.

Having already sat on the butt plug and gladly accepted the strap-on, my vacant orifice was very willing to accept its next visitor in the shape of an electric anal stimulator. By now I was so well lubed that the plug needed zipping in to keep the little bugger in place, which happily seemed to work.

Although normality was returning to my training, I was still disoriented. As my eyes began focusing properly again I glanced at my Mistresses boots, which so far I had not been instructed to honour, and I noticed the Plank leant against the wall waiting to be assembled. What was reassuring were the pillows that Maggie had temporarily attached to the Plank for her slaves comfort. On the more sinister side, this probably meant a lengthy immobilisation, but if that was the case how could I reconcile my earlier thoughts that my balls were likely to be inflated in the Clinic? I gave up trying to overthink the issues and let myself go totally under my owners spell.

I soon found out how I could square the circle. Mistress was going to attach me to the Plank and do the infusion to my scrotum in the Playroom. Just to be sure that I was actually Maggie's rubber slave, she decided to fit the Tusker mask. It is comfortable and only served to reinforce my earlier thoughts that I was in for a long Planking.

Firstly a good ball buttering. Not to be confused with a ball battering, the buttering is a most pleasant experience as Maggie applied cocoa butter to the scrotum to help flexibility and hopefully its ability to expand to take the waiting cargo. Meticulous precautions were taken as always, to first create then maintain the sterile environment necessary for the operation. I was supplied with more doses of her aromatic medicine, then I was warned not move as Maggie leaned forward to insert her needle into my ball sac and only then did she nonchalantly advise ‘500ml of saline today slave’. Even though I say so myself, this was going to be a ‘routine’ filling of my sac as I have previously received far more fluid. I remained still and enjoyed the occasional glimpse and feel by my Mistress as she checked her balls to make sure they were filling nicely.

Unfortunately, I lost the vision of my Golden goddess with the application of the eye shades to the Tusker mask. I was left totally blind and almost deaf to contemplate my fate as decreed by my owner. A quick pat of the balls and a barely audible 'See you later slave' and that was my life. I have absolutely no concept of the time I remained in that position. I did hear the door open, the last drops of 500ml infusion must have trickled home because I sensed that the needle was being removed followed by a gentle fondling of the balls, and the door closed and silence again.

I focused on thoughts of my Mistress and every now and then the e-stim circulating through my cock and balls created a hard erection. I concentrated on the erection which brought me quickly and clearly back to a vision of the most beautiful person I know and there was nothing else worth thinking about. I even had several ‘forbidden’ thoughts about my owner and all the while the constant pulsing of the anal electrode was working its insidious magic. I thought I had the impression of the door opening again but no sound. Did I hear the click of the camera? Was my Mistress with her slave again? I had no thoughts of anything apart from Mistress Maggie and how I could better serve her.

After the unexpected approach of my Russian interrogator, and her gradual transformation back to my wonderful owner, the final return to 'normality' was Mistress graciously granting me the benefits of some of her warm, fresh nectar. Even that had a unexpected twist, the Tusker with its integrated drinking tube provided an easy way of delivery, Mistress filled an enema bag with her golden nectar, allowing gravity to direct it down the tube and into my eager mouth. With that first glorious taste I knew I had my Mistress back 100% without any foreign influences. That final drink was so well received, but I must work on my ability to accept and swallow a continuous stream of piss rather than Mistress using the tap to regulate my intake. Or perhaps that is how Maggie likes the situation? Even in something so simple as a humble drink, she remains in total charge.

And the end results? I had been kidnapped at the door, incarcerated on a dildo strapped to a chair, drugged and interrogated, had a good rogering with pants round my ankles, roped to the Plank, balls filled with saline, senses obliterated, electro stimulated, illicit thoughts about my owner . . . Not at all what I expected, but as far as training goes it has left me even more under my owners spell and with . . .

*The Taser turned out to be a plastic replica of a Walther PPK. Ah! Shaken not stirred Mr slave!

Centenary Celebrations

In September 2011 I was fortunate enough to be taken under the wing of a lady who has turned out to be a fantastic Mistress and really good friend. And there started a fantastic journey that has reached its centenary, and that hopefully, with the agreement of Mistress Maggie, will continue for as long as I am of use to her. Today, the Centenary celebration wasn't about training, more bringing together all the hard work, repetitive exercises and in Maggie's words ‘servitude and mistreatment’. From my perspective Maggie has never mistreated her slave, more 'guided' me in the right directions with the occasional shock, crop, belt and reinforcement to mould me in the direction that she wished her slave to go.
 
Maggie had meticulously planned all the activities, as she always does, but with a little extra to commemorate the century. What I knew beforehand was . . . You will be having a day to remember, a celebration worthy of my very loyal slave. None of the planned activities are on the usual Mistress Maggie menu but likely to have you surprised, even a little scared or nervous, all designed by me for maximum enjoyment. . . ,  and that I would receive one litre of saline into my scrotal sack, meaning I would have huge balls for the remainder of the session. What I thought may happen was acting as Mistresses slave and being permitted to serve her real friends, then of course there was the totally unexpected that is ever present in Maggie's sessions. The one thing I wasn't, was a little scared. There was absolutely no reason to be as I trust Maggie and would do whatever she wished.

We started early to make sure the saline had time to infuse, as Maggie had planned activities for specific times. The session set off at an unhurried pace with me inserted into the black rubber uniform, which included my butt plug. Maggie then asked me to quote my slaves oath. No problems. Word perfect and delivered with true sincerity and honesty, a little boot worship followed and the final dressing was the leather harness. Mistress smiled as the large cock ring was secured behind my balls, we both know it can be an impossible thing to remove with inflated balls.

On time, we moved to the clinic where I was secured ready for my scrotal operation. Maggie zipped me into the white latex hood, that I must admit is rapidly becoming my favourite, comfortable to wear and a symbol of my Mistresses ownership. The two cannulas went in so easily I barely felt anything; a pin prick and they were in. A little adjustment to the valves and both were delivering a steady drip-drip-drip that I was able to monitor through my perforated eye covers.

This photo shows how strangely transformed Mistress appeared when she answered the door; the transparent hood masked her stunning good looks and raven black hair. Underneath was definitely my Mistress, but on the surface she was an anonymous temptress who after cocoa buttering my balls allowed and encouraged 1 litre of saline to expand her scrotum. She appears to derive great pleasure from gently feeling the weight and tautness of her globes and whispering. ‘You have got big balls now slave’.

Not content with fondling her balls, she wanted a spark in the life of her slave to celebrate our centenary, and out came the electrics. There was still space along my cock for the two electrodes, as Maggie had tied a tight tourniquet around the base to prevent the saline leeching along the shaft. The unit was set to program 8 level 20, its repeating crescendo just sufficient to keep me really frustrated for some time or, more precisely, a frustrated, happy slave and I could still watch the regular drips feeding the saline into my balls.

That was until Maggie zipped up the white hood; nice, no vision and very stimulating with the restricted breathing and at the same time she increased the program to level 22. I tried to utter a warning, but the culmination of these two simple actions was too much, I lost control and exploded.

I asked myself whether I erupted because I am a useless slave with poor self control, or whether Mistress planned it to save embarrassment later. Either way, I can unequivocally confirm that 1litre of saline in the ball sack does not prevent normal cock functions!

The next vision I saw was when my white hood was removed and replaced with my 'normal' working one, it was that of my stunning Mistress. I hadn't expected that she had removed her own transparent hood, she stood there helping me down from the couch looking stunning; hair beautifully back to normal, a twinkle in her eyes and that radiant smile accompanied by the occasional mischievous feel of her balls. As she led me quietly through to the Playroom she gently reassured me that I mustn't be worried about what was going to happen. I wasn't at all worried. I know and trust Mistresses judgement explicitly.

So, as the door to the Playroom opened at precisely three o'clock, I was ready for anything; even one of Maggie's friends, who was sat relaxing on the latex bed awaiting our arrival, poised with easel and sketch pad ready. We were introduced, ‘slave, meet K. K this is slave’. I also noticed the Throne was place diagonally opposite K and the Playroom rug had been folded to create a soft kneeling pad.

I will repeat, Mistress is very thorough in her planning and knows that although my spirit is always very willing my knees can occasionally be weak. I managed a quick glance towards K, but is was not my place to look. In any case, I suspect she was far more intrigued at seeing a pair of 1 litre balls attached to her still life subject. Maggie repositioned my slave lead through the slave collar, and snapped it to my balls giving them an upwards tug, whilst I knelt and just gazed at Mistress.

It felt really good as K and Maggie decided the pose and K started sketching. In the background, Maggie's husband John took photos as a permanent record of the event, which would also remind K of our position and colours for when she starts adding tints to her sketches. She concentrated on sketching Maggie first, then me, which gave Maggie a little time to relax from her strenuous pose. I, of course remained rock solid still as any obedient slave should.

The Completed Portrait

Once complete and after Maggie and K had time to review the sketches, I was invited for a quick peek. Another nice gesture and I must say K must have worn out a pencil judging by the size of the balls she had to capture. They were very good though and I look forward to seeing the finished article if Mistress will allow that.

John and K adjourned downstairs but Maggie had a few last minute preparations for her slave. I was to wear the wooden serving tray, secured with chains to my slave collar, then Maggie produced a black rubber apron that she’d created, I was to wear it in order to avoid embarrassment while I was undertaking my final actions for today's celebrations. I was to serve her friends with drinks and home made buns, and it would have been most inappropriate for the guests to be confronted with a huge set of slave balls at eye level.

One guest had specific dietary requirements and I was to remember not to mix them up; first serve each guest with a hot drink, then serve them with cakes, keep the kitchen tidy between visits, and any spare time stand to attention looking to service her guests' requirements. Not a lot to remember then for this slave, who was for the first time being trusted to serve Maggie's friends.

Maggie's second lady guest 'S' arrived at four and I busied myself serving, cleaning and standing to attention. Listening to these three delightful friends talking about some of the many pictures Mistress had gathered together in her Centenary Memorial Photo book. Maggie offered me the book to take home but I chose to decline, I thought discretion was the better path, and in any event, Maggie may get far more pleasure from bringing out that little black photo book for more of her friends. The ladies laughed and giggled and occasionally needed replenishment or another bun. I generally had the biggest smile on my face, watching Mistress relax and not having to worry about the behaviour of her slave.

There were three occasions where I was a little flustered. The first was when I got a slight telling off from John for not having the kitchen spick and span; that was soon rectified. The second when I almost dropped a glass that K had been drinking from; wet rubber gloves and glasses don't mix well. The third was when I blushed scarlet when Maggie and her lady friends congratulated me on 100 sessions of loyal service, singularly unexpected but greatly appreciated by a loyal and faithful slave.

And yes I did get one of Maggie's superb cup cakes that I had been serving to the guests. I was instructed to kneel in front of Mistress and her friends as she broke off pieces and fed them to her slave. Mistress told me to return the tray contents to the kitchen and return to collect a cup and paper plate that were sitting on the coffee table, but when I returned they had miraculously levitated down onto the floor. There were giggles from the ladies about this awkward task that Maggie had deliberately set. Undaunted, I was able to bend and pick both up without the anticipated contortions. The ladies laughed and Maggie smiled saying, ‘I will have to sort him out for being such a smart arse’.

I really enjoyed the fact that Maggie actually trusts me not to show her up in front of her friends. I would also like to thank K and S for being so easy going and enjoyable people to serve. If I am fortunate to be allowed to serve them again, I answer to slave or whatever Maggie says.

A final comment to slaves dreaming of a 1litre infusion. My balls were like taught balloons, not at all uncomfortable. However, there is a tendency for the saline to leak out through the vacated cannula incisions, thus creating a moist scrotum and wet pants. Luckily, I have a pair of rather nice, loose latex pants that I could wear to contain the seepage and you may wish to contemplate something suitably watertight or you may end up looking like you have pee'd yourself.

Roll on the next 100 and thank you Mistress Maggie, K, S and John for a memorable celebration.

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.