Sesquicentennial - Better and Better

When I first had the privilege of attending Mistress Maggie some six and a bit years ago I had no inkling of the fantastic heights that she would take me to and I really didn't think I would be fortunate to reach 150 sessions. After a few dozen or so (if I was lucky) I anticipated Mistress would lose interest in her tall, somewhat overweight slave. Initially I had expressed an interest in rubber bondage and perhaps a little anal play, other than that I really was naive as to what delights an exceptionally good Mistress could introduce me to. Yet here we are, celebrating this milestone in style with a lot of rubber, a lot of anal play, quite a few shocks from the electrics including the bonus of an electrifying sound deeply embedded where good sounds should be, deep inside and largely out of sight. I have travelled a long way and I hope and suspect Mistress has many more highways and byways to guide us down.

Stepping swiftly through the obligatory preliminaries; the worship was slow and sensuous and a thrill I have described in great detail in many of my earlier blogs, on with my heavy weight latex catsuit and ushered into the Clinic where I was told to kneel with my face through the opening at the back of the chair. That opening conveniently accommodated the anaesthetic mask that was strapped to my head, ensuring I breath in any aromatic medicine my gloved rubber nurse may deem necessary.

Mistress declared that she had lost something, and as I had been fortunate enough to attend the previous week she was wondering if I had secreted the item somewhere on or in my person. She had looked everywhere in the intervening week, so the only logical conclusion was that her slave must have hidden the item in one of my frequent mischievous moments.

Oiled and lubed, Mistress was only millimetres away from being able to insert her rubber hand in my back passage, but my muscles just wouldn't quite relax to allow her hand inside to do a full reconnaissance of where the missing item may be hiding. Nope, I am just not quite stretched for a fisting yet, but undeterred Mistress inserted an inflated butt bung to aid the stretching and said that as the item was still missing we shall persist in the future until such a time as she can have a proper rummage. I did fleetingly think that perhaps Mistress wants her slave to be a proper puppet and wondered what Sooty and Sweep felt like with their owners hand up their bums.

It won't be too long before I can accept Mistresses hand fully up my backside, so watch this space! A few more breaths of the aromas. . . maybe more relaxation on my part. . . perhaps a little more lube? Who knows, but I can feel that day coming shortly.

Of course the result of all the stretching and lube was that when Mistress inserted my butt plug it went in so easily I hardly noticed its presence. So much so that it dropped right out again. A clear and recognisable sign that the new butt plug that I once considered huge is now 'ordinary’. It fills the cavity but with little stretching required.

Anyway, after a nervous titter from me and an ordinary titter from Maggie the solution was obvious, zip it away inside my thick latex catsuit and forget it for the rest of the session. That worked. The plug stayed put in its secure, dark and rubbery location.

It was a relatively easy operation to fit me inside the thick white latex body bag, although care was required to make sure my arms slid into the internal pockets and I was lying comfortably in the middle of the bag, so when Mistress finally zipped and strapped me inside I was in the best possible position, and more importantly, prepared for a lengthy session of rubber restriction and fun.

An essay in style and beauty

A little judicious fiddling with the crotch zip of the bag and a little harder fiddling with the zippers on my catsuit underneath made it possible for Mistress to bring out my cock and balls. From inside the double hood which Maggie had chosen for me to wear, I occasionally got the faintest of glimpses of my beautiful Mistress through the eye perforations, but there was nothing I could have done, even if I wanted to, to prevent her firstly playing with my exposed genitals then re-covering them in a tight black latex sheath. I must say I  love being in such a totally rubberised position for my Mistress and although I can't move much, my role is to lay as still as possible so Maggie can perform her magic. I know she enjoys her session more when her plans are not interrupted by unruly or wimpish slaves. I also get the distinct impression that Mistress also likes the situation of a totally restrained rubberised plaything.

Interspersed with the intricate work of latexing my cock and balls, Mistress allowed me more puffs of the rather pleasant aromas that she knows I like. We have tried out a few and know which brands do a reliable job of delivering the appropriate sensations. Happy with the batch used today I could easily relax and allow Maggie the freedom to finally get the sheaths on without any problems.

I don't think I mentioned how stunning Mistress looked when she ushered me into the Chambers: a wonderful essay in the Beauty of The Dominatrix. I could have stayed rubbered up in her presence for hours. Come to think of it I would stay there for as long as my Mistress wished as there is no possibility for escape.

Those who regularly follow my blog will realise that Mistress doesn't allow her slaves to remain in the state of Nirvana for too long, as that could mean far too much peace, tranquillity and enjoyment for her subject, whose sole purpose after all is to please my owner an not myself. I think I arrived in that mythical state momentarily before Mistress sought to stretch my horizons. Well actually, she wanted to stretch my balls - quite a lot.

I have never been formally introduced to Maggie’s gleaming piece of ball stretching equipment, and this picture is the first visible reference to associate with what was initially a most pleasant experience as Maggie attached its mountings between cock and scrotum.

At this point I was relaxed, happy, comfortable and pleasantly warm. I was being sorted out by the best possible Mistress a slave could want and I do believe I was closer to that idyllic transcendental state. A turn of the screw, another whiff of aroma, some beautiful soothing words from Mistress followed by a few more turns of the screw had me returning to reality.

That familiar ache in the balls started to creep in as they began to lose proximity to my cock, but still there was nothing I would wish to do to alter the situation. Of course there was something I could do to help Mistress in the next stage and did so by holding myself absolutely rigid inside the sheath whilst she attached her metal stretching device to the scaffolding erected at the base of the couch. Soon my already stretched balls were being further stretched by the addition of ropes and weights over the pulleys. Actually, once Mistress administered more of her medicinal intoxicating aroma through her anaesthetic breathplay setup, I had time to absorb the ache and I was starting to feel in the zone once more. Hmmm! Another confession that Mistress will no doubt seek to exploit!

A few more weights, a little more kindness from my Mistress, a few strokes to my sheathed cock and balls and I was floating in that space between ache and ecstasy. My mind was fully alert, as was my body although severely restrained. My thoughts were free to dwell on how lucky I am and I drifted back over the previous 150 sessions as I frequently do when I am in this relaxed state.

December 2013, our fiftieth anniversary session, Mistress and her husband John took me out for lunch in a wheelchair. . . Maggie fed me sausages. . . lucky day Friday 13th. . .

In between the stretching, my mind drifted forward to our hundredth anniversary. . .  Hugely inflated balls. . . my portrait captured and now displayed for all to see on the Chambers wall. . . tea making and serving Maggie's friends. . . precise instructions so as not to embarrass my Mistress. . .  Now, back to the present, I feel at home and honoured that Mistress and her husband had spent so much time in the previous anniversary preparations.

We had already agreed before this session that Maggie would not be making quite such elaborate plans for the sesquicentennial, yet my Mistress possesses a remarkable natural ability to make every session electrifyingly special.

Despite the tightness of the white latex hood and the fact that Maggie occasionally zipped the front flaps shut, I could still hear sounds reasonably well, and I detected the familiar sound of Maggie ripping open one of her sterile packages and heard her announce that I was to receive a sound. Not just a sound but a sparkling sound.

Even with the copious lube there was still too much resistance to the number 8. Maggie never forces such issues, if it wont slide in under its own weight it is immediately removed. Not so with the number 7. That one was happy to slide in all the way and once more I experienced that little shudder of delight as it plumbed the depths. That little shudder turned into a steady, or more specifically a constantly varying charge, as Maggie played with the buttons on the e-stim. Maggie certainly knows which buttons to press with this slave!

Only to the edge but no further. Mistress kept me moaning for quite a while but those few moments to force a climax were denied. I was frustrated but I knew Mistress is in control. That wasn't quite the end of this latest milestone session. No celebration is complete without a celebratory drink and this 150th session was no exception. Mistress wheeled her IV stand closer, attached a funnel and feeding tube and decanted a good quantity of fresh house wine. Needless to say I consumed all of it, perhaps a little selfish I know, but a good quantity of Maggie Nouveau is the best possible drink a slave could wish for.

And what for the future? Mistress Maggie willing, I will eventually be reporting on our 200th session, but I would like to thank my owner from the bottom of my heart for giving me so many happy memories already in my slave life.

But we still haven't found what we were looking for.

A Slight Change of Plan

Mistress Maggie had given her clearest steer yet in the calling mail as to what was going to happen to her slave during this session.

'Your rubber Mistress has plans to escalate your training in order to harness the best performances from her slave.'

Not so much of a riddle this time and unusually I was able to interpret her words quite simply. I was to be placed in that stout body harness and hoisted off the ground to be hung like a side of beef and used by Mistress. I had had all night to imagine myself in this predicament and was quite ready for the experience as I rang the bell to the Chambers.

But first, the preliminaries. There are occasionally preliminaries and today Mistress wanted to discuss two things with me before I could engage in the obligatory worship of her footwear and the training ‘proper’.

The first needed me to have a steady hand to take a couple of photographs for Mistresses blog. Maggie wanted a photo of her modelling her satin bondage mitts and I found my hands shaking as I had to strap my Mistress inescapably into the mitts, fortunately I have had too much excellent training to even contemplate anything other than doing the job in hand, and a very good job with excellent results even though I say so myself.

The second preliminary was to recount my feelings and to let Mistress know of any side effects I had noticed following my previous session, when Mistress had performed my first bladder washout. No aches or pains; yes I could have taken more; yes it would have been interesting if the bladder was being filled from the top as well . . . er? - perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that judging by the big grin it put on Maggie’s face. Perhaps I should learn to keep quiet and not open my big mouth unless instructed!

After these two extra taskettes I was ordered onto the floor on my back to clean Maggie's boots and also for Mistress to indulge in a little nipple teasing with her long stiletto heeled boots. For those who have not had the privilege of having spiky heels driven into their nipples, it can be truly excruciating. However, I was luckily placated by being allowed to wear a pair of her used panties, carefully arranged by Mistress over the parts of my face that were snivelling the most and something I haven’t been allowed for a while.

The panties weren't the only thing Mistress wanted me to wear on my head, once she had stepped down from my chest it was time to check my lungs with a prolonged spell of bagging, that really got me breathing hard on Mistress’ scent which resulted in a happy but breathless slave and a happy Mistress, as she certainly does love her breathplay. Panties and bagging in one go, what a start!

Installation into my catsuit was swift and as for my butt plug, well that went in like the proverbial rodent up a drain pipe. A well-oiled procedure and no awkwardness whatsoever. I knew some floor work was imminent as Mistress passed me the Playroom knee pads and instructed ‘put them on slave’, swiftly followed by a rubber GP-5 mask rigged for self-medication of the attached aroma reservoir.

Today I found the mask incredibly comfortable. After a count of three, the mask was pulled tightly across my face and adjusted until we were both satisfied that it was in the right position. And yes, it was exactly right and I think I could have worn it all day. It was of course helped by the relaxing effects of the aromas, but whatever the reasons I was content with my lot; a GP-5’d slave in my own little rubber world as Mistress ceremonially locked a chain around my ankle and chained me to the Playroom. I say ceremonially because wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.

Maggie was flogging me at much less than her full power. With the medication, my head firmly on the carpet and music gently playing in the background I must admit to enjoying the experience and as Mistress proceeded, now using her dressage whip across my buttocks she stopped for a moment to say. ‘This whip always brings back fond memories of my fetish club days, because I always took it with me and it was so often needed’. A stout padded crop followed, a nine tailed whip and then a heavy leather flogger. I just relaxed and rode with the gentle stinging and thwacks that were raining down on my lower body.

With my backside and back gently warmed from the flogging Mistress moved the session along and produced the stout leather harness. I was a little surprised as I was expecting the suspension harness, but Maggie indicated that pulley system or not, she had changed her mind about lugging a huge 17 stone slave up towards the Playroom ceiling, so today she would be doing something a little lighter and I would be experiencing a little latex bed bondage.

Her chosen harness keeps the wearer quite rigid when tightly strapped, and before the wrist straps finally immobilized my arms by my side Maggie thought it would be fun if I were to dance a Highland jig and placed two dressage whips in a cross shape on the floor. I was instructed to ‘Dance slave or get the crops again’. It was actually fun and we both laughed as I commented that when my hands were finally strapped to my side I could entertain her with a Michael Flatley style of dancing. I did get my hands strapped in tight but fortunately wasn’t forced into performing an Irish jig. Maggie laughed and it was a delight to hear that sound again.

Lying immobile on the bed, Mistress started to fit me into the system mask. Last time I had difficulty accommodating the tight heavy hood, so on this occasion Maggie took much longer positioning it for the best fit, and not until I’d grunted that the mask was seated comfortably did she move onto the facial part. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable and accomplished at problem solving my Mistress is. She has made a thin extension section for the front of the hood, an optional extension which allows extra room for slaves, who like me, have been blessed with a rather big nose. I lay there, helpless, sealed inside, just the situation a true rubber slave loves to be in. By now the aromas delivery bulb was out of reach, so once again I found myself safely under the total control of Mistress.

As Mistress played with my cock she told me that she was going to fuck me with her electric sound. A simple conductive loop was used to capture my cock and balls and the urethral electro sound was inserted. The e-stim was raised to level 40, deemed by Maggie to be an 'ideal'! sensation level for her urethral wand, and I can only say that as she worked her magic I was indeed fucked with the electric sound and at last allowed to orgasm. The system mask was far more comfortable on this occasion and I think Maggie was quite pleased that I had managed so long before wimping out.

It was an unexpected journey that Mistress had guided me through today. Not strange physically but more one where Mistress manipulated the expectations of her slave, reinforcing that she can make changes at any time and altering the advertised experience. Maggie had told me exactly what was to happen, suspension, and my mind was anticipating being hung out to dry and it changed into a totally different type of bondage. It is remarkable how Mistress altered the direction that she wanted her slave to travel as the session progressed, and knowing the thoroughness of her planning I would not be at all surprised if this ‘slight change of plan’ was fully planned and scripted. At the end of the day Mistress can and does do whatever she wants with her slave and her rules also apply. Rule 9 – Mistress may change her mind at any time and Rule 15 – The slave must be ready at all times.

Maggie’s unexpected ‘change of mind’ gave an unusual twist to an already excellent training program. The session turned out to be a much gentler one than I had anticipated and that was strangely refreshing, although I suspect it won’t be too long before I am hung up and swaying from her ceiling. And a final tip for any lucky slaves who are offered the use of knee pads, I would suggest making use of them. They can be a little cumbersome when being walked on all fours, but today the pads allowed me to comfortably kneel for a long time during my flogging without my knees causing me trouble. Mistress Maggie thinks of everything.

Lassos Everywhere

Mistress Maggie has certainly been interested in dealing with bottoms these last few weeks, two weeks ago when I visited her my bum received an almighty beating for my misconduct. Today when Mistress opened the door to her Chambers it immediately looked like my bum would be receiving more of her attentions, the big clue came in the form of the strap-on dildo that heaved and smiled as I entered the Chambers.

Mistress did continue to concentrate on my bum area but without the painful consequences. I was restrained on the Clinic couch with my bum raised to the perfect height and inclination for Mistress to lube up my private space without any fuss. Her rather large dildo which had done nothing but wave at me since I arrived was then slipped inside me as Mistress proceeded to mount her slave achieving a flawless entry.

The dildo had looked pretty big when I’d been worshipping Maggie's shoes, but I must have had an equally big lust for being mounted, because the huge rod slid in with ease and kept sliding in further; gently but firmly until our bodies met. I really enjoyed being taken this way and in fact I almost enjoyed it too much as Maggie gently massaged my cock as the dildo thrust in and out.

Satisfied that my bum had been reacquainted with her sizeable toy, out came the dildo to be replaced by an inflatable one. Mistress threatened 10 pumps, but if I'm being honest I could have taken quite a few more bulb squeezes, I was feeling so good at the time. (Another comment that no doubt will come home to roost!).

I think Mistress has been watching too many John Wayne movies judging by the number of lassos she deployed on my cock and balls. One round each ball and attached to the couch extension. One round the base of my cock pulling in one direction then another and another, all stretched tightly and pulling in every way Maggie could manage. Count them. Eight are visible!

Of course from where I was sitting I couldn’t see the results of Mistress’ lassoing, but I did feel like a steer at a rodeo as I lay rock still knowing that any movement in any direction could have 'surprising' consequences.

Now that I have had chance to view my predicament, Maggie's attention to detail is clear. There is a symmetry about the cock and ball bonds that only a true expert can achieve. Even the alignment of the picture was perfect; red butt plug, red jewels of my lovely guiche and the taught diagonals of my confining ropes make a striking picture of a slave pleasing his Mistress, and I of course was very happy with the situation. What self respecting slave wouldn't be?

Maggie had completed her planned cock and ball tethering, but in one of those spontaneous moments her voice lit up and she asked. 'Do you fancy a sound slave?' A question that didn’t need any thought and I almost shouted my approval.

Maggie disappeared and returned after a short while with a freshly sterilised sound. 'It's a larger sized one that you've worn before slave'. Before I knew it and for the second time today, her desired object was greased up and without any resistance began sliding deep inside me. It felt so good and I do love it when my Mistress invades yet another of my private areas. Well, in reality, all areas are her private areas and she is free to invade wherever she wants.

The picture does provide an enlightening view of the detachable 'goal posts' that Maggie was using to hang, draw and quarter my most sensitive of areas.

And this, of course, is a picture of my perfect Mistress complete with dildo. By this time the lassos had been removed and we had returned to the Playroom ready for the final scenario of today's session. She was demonstrating how comfortable her Playroom chair was before a completely rubber covered and very appreciative slave took up semi-permanent residence on it.

The chair was repositioned underneath the central Playroom gantry and I replaced Mistress as incumbent of the chair. Maggie enclosed my head in one of her a soft nylon stockings, then beginning with my head and working downwards my total bondage encounter commenced, involving copious quantities of cling film, several stout leather straps to suspend my legs and feet, some bright yellow gaffer tape to add a little colour, a most effective and comfortable rubber gag and as a very nice finishing touch, a posture collar was secured round my neck at maximum tightness.

If you are on Flickr there is some video footage of my chair bondage HERE but may not be available on all devices.

Mistress spent some time simply putting on her long latex gloves whilst sitting on my lap. The background mood music was eerie yet strangely sensual and my Mistress continued to move like a slithery serpent all round and over her slave. That most erotic of movements could only be reciprocated by the slightest of movement and the faintest of grunts from her very keen slave, such was the designs of her bondage, the restrictions of the cling film meant I couldn't even stroke my cock and balls as Mistress Maggie had ensured my hands were firmly secured to prevent movement. An altogether surreal bondage event that I would never have dreamt being part of when I rose out of bed that morning.

I know, I am a really lucky slave.

(I) Like Watching Paint Dry

I had almost completed the cleaning and worshipping duties of Mistress Maggie's black court shoes, the slender ones where, with a surreptitious movement of the tongue I can just tickle her instep, when she announced that we must move on due to a tight timetable today. This in itself was unusual because Mistress is normally incredibly generous with her session time, in fact if British Rail ran to similar relaxed timetables, it would be in a right pickle. But I always obey my owner, so putting my tongue away I quickly knelt to attention at her feet, bare naked apart from my red socks and gloves.

I could only imagine what Maggie had in store for me, as usual she had kept me in a puzzled state of suspense. Other than instructing me to bring my red latex kit bag to session and warning me that it may be necessary to open a window today, I’d been given no real clues in her calling mail. Maggie asked me to lean forward so she could hood me, and once again on went the easy to wear, black, full rubber hood that I had spent so much happy time in during the previous session. The contents of my red kit bag were laid out and lightly talced for ease of dressing, my bum was stuffed with a big red butt plug and Maggie zipped me into my tight fitting red catsuit. Why red? All will become clear.

We relocated into the White room where Maggie strapped me to the couch; secure but not tight. For a moment I thought my cock and balls would be subjected to some of Mistress’ devious punishments, because she was unzipping my genital area making sure I was fully exposed, but to my surprise she announced I would be receiving a shave. Before I knew it Maggie had assembled her stainless steel operators tray at the foot of the couch, donned a plastic apron and was wielding her razor.

Strange I thought, as I had already paid a lot of attention to my depilation, because I have learned that missing a few stray pubes can result in one helluva justified chastisement. It is a most sensual experience, lying there with your owner expertly lathering up your cock and balls with soap and water, then gently working her disposable razor round both shaft and balls.

I was pleased that Mistress hadn’t detected any omissions in my shaving, but she did reaffirm that I needed to be absolutely hair free, and finishing with the razor she continued to rub me dry with a towel and gave my cock and balls a liberal dosing with talcum powder. The area was then deemed as prepared, apart from a little light lotion which Maggie carefully smoothed over the dried, shaved, talc'd area.

Now it all started to fit; why the red suit, why the thorough shave, dry and oil, and even why in the calling mail Mistress indicated she may need to open the window. That bit had me really mystified, until Maggie brought out a plastic bottle and started mixing liquid latex; red liquid latex, although sitting there in the bottle it did definitely look pink!

Liquid latex technology appears to have improved since I tried latexing the inside of a pair of old jeans many, many years ago and long before I was privileged to meet my Mistress. At that time it did smell quite pungent but now, as Maggie mixed the chemicals we could not detect any notably bad odours so the window in the Clinic remained shut. Now it was my turn to wear a plastic apron, but unlike Maggie’s mine had a hole in the middle for my shaved area to poke through, rather appropriate really, as my cock looked like a poker after all the attention it had received.

Maggie decided to paint the underside of my balls first and in order to get a good hands-free view a little cock support was needed. A clamp and a length of rope held my cock to my collar, which did a fine job of keeping everything in place while she painted on the latex and used her hair-dryer to help it set, you get an odd feeling as the liquid latex begins shrinking and adhering to your skin. Maggie mentioned she had tried the liquid latex on her arm, hence why the thorough shave. ‘You will appreciate the shave I’ve done for you when we come to rip the latex off you later’.

This was why the tight timetable. Not to finish earlier, but to apply and dry many thin layers of the latex on and around my cock and balls. After each application came a blow with the Playroom hair dryer until the sticky substance had dried, changing from the pink to a final red colour. As a safety precaution Maggie fitted a condom over the tip of my cock to avoid any bad reactions. The painting continued; a thin coat followed by a good warm blow, working all the time around and over the condom until Maggie was satisfied with her artistry and her latex paint was used up. She performed a touch test on her finely painted masterpiece and said that it required a good blowing to dry it completely. Yes, Mistress then finished me off, well almost literally, with a prolonged blow job. . . from the hair dryer!

After that the liquid latex was allowed some natural drying time. Ahh - I was just happy laying there watching my Mistress float about in her latex, nicely snug and secure, latex covered and waiting for the paint to dry. I liked the quiet. However, Mistress wasn't too happy about waiting with nothing to entertain her and had devised a few interesting distractions for her slave. For instance, I could use the time to improve my breath control and out came the red rebreather helmet that I have easily worn on a few occasions, in fact Maggie commented that due to the masks limited air holes I would only be able to see her as I breathed out and the hood was in its expanded state.

That was a comment I had made myself a long time ago in another blog, it shows that my owner does know her slave, but what hadn't been anticipated was the interaction between the latex hood that was now becoming a permanent and welcome accessory and the red latex of the rebreather. Try as I might I couldn't get the bag to inflate, when it did the two hoods clung together and I was really struggling.

Whizzing the hood off quickly Mistress abandoned the experiment and went off muttering something about incompetent slaves, but she soon returned again waving a small item for my attention, and sounding unfazed she placed it on my face. 'A nice, used pair of my panties for you slave'. That in itself was fine; essence of Maggie is always a turn on, but not content with a little gusset sniffing Mistress produced a large plastic bag, eased it over my head and making sure the panties were appropriately placed she pulled the bag down over my shoulders. Because of my position on the couch, it produced a very effective seal around my shoulders and I was left thinking about fragrant panties, gazing at my wonderful owner through the bag and slowly starting to gasp for air. Well! That certainly took my mind off the drying latex.

A close glance at the photo shows the excellent results of a red sheathed latex cock and balls. A brilliant result for the inaugural painting and I do like acting as my owners Guinea Pig. You can see the only bit of my skin that was left exposed to the Clinic air. The photo gives an excellent study of my guiche and the red jewels that keep it securely in place. Yes red jewels.

Maggie hadn’t quite finished with my cock and balls yet and when she fetched her scissors I became quite concerned. 'I need to chop off the end', she announced. After all her hard and patient work, would it all end with Mistress chopping off my end?

I gulped. My thoughts rolled back to the castration I narrowly avoided recently and I wondered if the red latex was to camouflage any blood. . . I really shouldn't worry about Mistresses cock and balls so much. Maggie’s plans for my latex covered member only involved chopping the end off the condom. Once snipped, Mistress delighted in producing a couple of Rosebud sounds and gently inserting them deeply down my cock.

I am fairly certain Mistress would have fitted several more, I have easily accommodated 4 or 5 in the past, however, I had to be honest with my owner and announced that I was close to cumming. Not yet. After a couple of flicks to really rattle my libido the sounds were just as gently removed, leaving me frustrated yet relieved that I had managed to control myself. Only just though.

I still have a long way to go with controlling my natural urges, or perhaps I am exactly at the stage my Mistress wants. She controls my breathing, my hearing, all my bodily functions are in her hands including the ability to make me ejaculate. I think she was happy with what we had achieved and we adjourned back to the Playroom. As I mentioned, Mistress was on a tight schedule watching the paint dry and some things she had wished for today would need to wait until another day. In the meantime, me and my by now very red hot poker were sent to bed in the Playroom for a little more ‘watching paint dry time’.

Mistress chose to double hood me, a red rubber gas mask was added to augment my breathing, then spread-eagled on the bed I was left to contemplate how fortunate I am to have my Mistress as my owner. You can see the results of my contemplations. I have a huge red erection and no relief.

As I lay there, frustrated and rasping through the gas mask Mistress added a further layer to my frustrations by tucking me under the black latex bed sheet. Maggie teased me for a few moments and moved her hands over the latex layers and I spontaneously combusted. ‘Way too premature slave’, said Mistress, but I simply couldn't help it. Without direct stimulation Mistress had manipulated my senses to such a degree that I just came.

Lost in that post-orgasm euphoria, listening to the gentle music playing in the background, I lay there in the dark, until Maggie pulled back the top of the sheet. I could see her swaying seductively to the music and I do believe she too was enjoying the moment.

All good sessions must come to an end and as usual I offered to stay around and help with the tidying up. Quite a lot of sweaty latex had accumulated during the session that all needed washing and hanging to dry.

In the midst of all the cleaning Maggie said she desperately needed the toilet and quickly dashed to the loo, but as is her excellent bladder control she stopped mid flow, realising that she need not use the toilet when her eager slave is on hand to drink it, she called me over and ordered me on to my back on the bathroom floor, where she carefully squatted just above my mouth and told me not to spill any. ‘Absolutely Ma’am, instruction understood Ma’am’. Quite a finale to watching the paint dry and I know Mistress Maggie was well pleased with her slave, consuming her urine and not spilling one drop.

Self Service slave Station

No matter how stoic you want to be for your Mistress, Mistress Maggie knows just which buttons to press, or in my case, how much brushing a buttock can take before having her slave beg for mercy. I wouldn't dare to comment on the rights or wrongs surrounding my punishments, after all Mistress is always right so there are no wrongs, and in this instance I had been warned that I would be punished by Maggie for any erections I had whilst undertaking some recent research for her; a task which involved me scouring over thousands of photos, mostly of ladies dressed in skimpy undies and fetish clothing.

Mistress wanted to ensure I wasn't enjoying my work and instructed me to maintain a five-bar-gate for keeping note of the number of erections I experienced during my searching. My next session would begin with punishment for any infractions, where I had allowed my mind to wander.

Fortunately, of all the pictures I poured over, only four had me aroused enough to land me in trouble. These were of my owner and created an instant rush of excitement as soon as I spotted one. So when asked, I honestly replied ‘four Mistress' and for those four I received four minutes of spanking over Maggie’s knee, first with her hand then with the hard hairbrush which Ted had been quietly guarding. That bloody bear will have to go!

Initially my stoicism stood firm. I mean, over the knee of a beautiful latex covered woman, face down on the latex bed, what rubber slave wouldn't be in heaven? As my ass became warmer and warmer my resolve began to crumble, and but for my face being buried deep in the latex bed I would have been begging for mercy earlier. Sometimes I think this slave is a bit of a wimp.

Success: Maggie was determined to help me with the fitting of my new, bigger red butt plug. It has been available for a while and forms one of our medium term objectives. After fixing her property to the high horse, copious doses of lubrication and aroma were supplied to her slave, finger stretching and dildo stretching and final success as the red butt plug was pushed all the way inside me. It’s a little tight and compact at the moment, however, the red plug or Big Red as I now think of my friend, has at last found its new home.

Failure: Big Red is obviously not yet fully acclimatised to its new environment and popped out again, indicating more expansion may be required before BR settles into its new home permanently. I will enjoy stretching out BR's new accommodation, Maggie told me I will.

After all this exercise, what was once an ordeal fitting my black plug became quite routine and it slipped easily and painlessly into the space vacated by BR. But I think it knows it's on notice to quit to make way for a bigger occupier in the not too distant future.

Onwards and upwards. Mistress had asked me to bring my red latex catsuit today and in her usual sultry way she helped me slip into it. I love that feeling as Mistress smoothes the wrinkles and makes sure her property is suitably packaged. A bright red gas mask was pulled over my head and Mistress manoeuvred me into the centre of the Playroom underneath the substantial ceiling frame.

With my breathing now under Maggie’s control I stood rigidly still, waiting for anything and everything my Mistress wished of me. Not long to wait. From under a covered mound of 'secret' equipment emerged the slave tray that I had so proudly worn on our 100th session.

The wooden tray was strapped around my waist and its supporting chains latched onto my slave collar, then a few inches at a time, the front then rear pulleys were released to lower the suspension frame to the height of my shoulders.

‘Squat slave'. Obviously I didn't go down far enough because in a firmer voice I was ordered again. 'I said squat slave’. Then it twigged, I was to squat low enough for the stocks to be slid in place and then locked around my neck.

Mistress checked if I was comfortably locked in the stocks and a couple of adjustments to the pulleys were necessary before I could confidently grunt, 'yes that's absolutely fine Mistress’. Immobilisation was almost complete, I was attached rigidly; slave, stocks, red latex hood and frame as one. Mistress took my hands and secured them together behind my back.

And there I stood and this time it wasn't a voluntary standstill, I just couldn't move. My neck was held vice like, my wrists were likewise and all I could see through my backwards tilting gas mask goggles was the occasional glimpse of Maggie's superb latex covered reflection in the wall mirror. Well, there was nothing to be done but stand still and make sure the contents of the tray were ready and stable and most importantly, do not embarrass or upset Mistress!

A breathing hose was the next item to emerge from the ‘secret’ mound of equipment and inevitably I was soon depending on it for air. A travel kettle appeared, several items of food and crockery, all lifted for me to see before being placed on my tray. Ah, the hint in the calling mail was starting to become a little clearer  '. . . Your Clinic appointment is scheduled for 4pm but self service refreshments are available while you are waiting. . .'  One item at a time, I was being transformed into the Self Service slave Station; part of the furniture in Maggie’s rubber refectory and delighted to be so. The final addition to my tray was the bubble bottle and I was the SSsS for as long as Maggie wished. It must have sounded really funny to Maggie; kettle starting to boil, slave bubbling away through the bottle, creating a unique blend of fresh carbonated water, and with really sensitive hearing she would have detected a low purring, very contented sound emanating from within the mask.

When all was set, Mistress turned on some of her favourite music, Michael Chapman, and proceeded to dance and sway in a most provocative way. I didn't catch all this sensual movement, but what I did catch had an alarming but not unpredictable effect on this red blooded, red latex'd, self service refreshment area. Despite my limited vision I could see at least another ten entries appearing on my five-bar-gate record of erections.

Thankfully, Mistress did allow me to take part in her snacking; a distinct whiff of cheese and onion crisps made its way up my breathing tube as its open end was unceremoniously dunked inside Mistresses crisp packet, while the amplified sound of her crunching noises made the smell of cheese and onion all the more tantalising, frustrating as well of course, because that was as near as I came to refreshments.

Like the good citizen she is, Maggie wouldn't just discard her rubbish. Unfortunately, the empty crisp packet was then placed safely inside my breathing tube. That caused a little consternation, but I remembered some advice from a very dear friend. 'Don't panic. . .'

After Mistress had eaten up everything from her SSsS, a toilet break was becoming necessary. Not for me of course because I may have sniffed Mistresses crisps but that was as close to food or drink that the refreshment station had come. It was Mistresses needs that required attention, and once I was freed from my vending machine duties, on went the collar and leash and I was to attend my Mistress as she relieved herself in the bathroom. Imagine the frustration watching all her golden champagne being flushed down the toilet without any being offered to her willing slave. Sometimes Mistress can be really cruel and sometimes, like on this occasion, she must be cruel to be kind. Mistress was being kindly cautious while she was taking a course of medicine prescribed by her Doctor. So, it was paper tissue duty only for her slave today.

We took a different route back from the loo and I was led through to the clinic, where I was instructed to mount the couch and manoeuvre into a very comfortable, reclining and restrained position on the couch. There are times when I really feel sorry for Mistress having such a long, large slave. I might be relaxed and comfortable with my feet in the stirrups, whereas Mistress has to hold her tummy in and squeeze round my sticking out feet to get closer access to her slave. But I can still get up to a little mischief as she squeezes past; I wriggle a latex covered foot against her chest or stomach, or whatever other bit of my owner is trying to manoeuvre past. I suspect that little pleasure may be curtailed and I really shouldn't divulge slave secrets so readily, although I have promised to be always honest to my owner and I do recognise the sacrifices that poor Mistress has to make to keep her slaves happy and pumped up, or even a Self Service slave Station maintained in good order!

Now the time for onwards and downwards had arrived. Down below, Mistress was going to make use of her newly stretched slave hole and fill me up with a rather large anal impaler. The heavy iron structure was prepared for insertion, cunningly attached between my legs and equally cunningly attached tightly to my exposed balls. Ease the impaler out, stretch the balls out; two birds, or should I say balls, with one stone. Have I mentioned before that Mistress is incredibly organised in her planning?

Ah yes, those Boston nipple pumps. The last time I was to have them one had gone missing, a lucky escape, although I did have to suffer an alternative instead. Mistress does not forget and had promised me that once she had found the pumps she would put them to good use. Hmm, well they have now turned up and I would be feeling them later. Mistress was also considering using a recently acquired metal cock device on me today, however, when she inspected it she was not convinced it was as good as advertised, she wanted my opinion and asked if I wanted her to try it out. I had personally tried a similar unit myself and found it singularly useless, it falls off unless you hold it firmly and even then it doesn't do what it says on the tin. I felt really proud and valued as Mistresses slave because Maggie considered my report and consigned the toy to the stainless steel bin with a loud and final clatter.

It was amusing, laying there in my white medical hood, with a dildo temporarily occupying BR's home, alternating between receiving aromas via the anaesthetic mask and breathing steadily through the snorkel into a rebreathe bag, being able to watch Mistress attempting to fit the Boston's. A normal person really needs three hands for this deployment, but Mistress managed well with two by holding the brass pump and the nipple cups in place with one hand, whilst operating the pump with her other. Have I mentioned before that Mistress Maggie is exceptional and not normal?  Whether it was the effect of the aromas or just the effect of the proximity of my owner, but these little Boston's were pleasant to wear and quite benign. On reflection, that comment may well come back to bite my nipples in future sessions!

Happy that everything was attached and inserted as planned, Mistress concentrated on my middle bit round my opened crotch zip. Always a good place for her to stick some electrodes. A urethral sound was inserted in my cock and an unusual stick-on electrode attached at the base. It may be due to the size of the rather large hospital electrode used at the base of the cock, but all the sensations were concentrated there with almost no stimulation from inside the cock and a good rhythmic dance lesson was had by all. Maggie then set about adding a bass rhythm to my anal invader as she steered it up my passageway. Long slow ins and outs of the fleshy dildo, long slow outs any ins of my secured balls, whilst all this being accompanied by a 'quick-quick-slow' rhythm round the ballroom.

Wow! Another unique and exceptional session ended all too quickly. The new aromas that Maggie used were the most potent and enjoyable I have experienced and strangely, once I had adjusted to the initial discomfort of the neck stocks, my only 'discomfort' was the inability to see enough of my owner. I mentioned this to Mistress in our post session debrief, where I may also have mentioned what an excellent and exceptional owner she is.

A rather strange bottom line is the after effect of the neck stocks. It has had a most beneficial effect on my neck muscles and I find I can move my head more easily now. Perhaps Mistress Maggie the physiotherapist might be a future addition to her medical options?

Wine and Roses

I barely had time to offer the bottle of wine as an apology to Mistress Maggie and her husband for patiently rehabilitating me following my visit to the piercing salon, and the roses to Mistress for, well, just being my perfect Mistress and friend, when I was quickly quietened and those were my last mutterings for quite a while.

On went a close fitting black latex mask, leather lead to my collar and crucially, the inflatable gag that took a couple of pumps to quieten me completely. Only then was I allowed to hang up my coat and follow Mistress up the stairs. I had not experienced such a rapid introduction to rubber before we ascended to the Playroom and I must admit it immediately focusses a slave as to why you are there: To serve your Mistress.

'. . . Your striking rubber Dominatrix will be taking full control of you, one step at a time, in a very rubbery and sensual way. . .' Mistresses words in her calling notice were certainly accurate so far and I knew I was going to experience another thrill filled session with my owner.

My catsuit was laid out on the bed to warm and my butt-plug placed on the desk as commanded, then off to the bathroom to return in stockings and gloves as fast as I could. The latex mask and gag were to remain in situ keeping my mouth effectively sealed, which made me wonder how I would perform my mandatory shoe worship. I needn't have been concerned, because once back in the Playroom the gag was stripped away and I was once more on the ground paying homage at Mistresses nice rubber ankle boots.

The rubber catsuit had reached just the right temperature to slip into and Mistress helped with the fitting and zipping, a little wiggling to make sure everything had settled in place then my hands were raised and secured to the gantry with rope. Out came the can of Mr Sheen ready for polishing her rubber slave; all I could do was hang around and ‘close your eyes slave’. I felt the touch of the cool spray settling on my latex followed by the movements of Maggie’s smooth polishing actions. The cloth was covering every inch, sometimes lingering on a stubborn dull spot. There must have been a good few dull spots in my groin area as the polishing cloth returned there three times to achieve the perfect shine.

The bondage Plank had been unobtrusively resting against the Playroom wall but was rudely awakened when I was instructed to screw the legs on it and prepare it for business; job done in a jiffy and the Plank placed across the Playroom.

Maggie announced that the postman had called and brought the special ingredient needed for her bondage today; several rolls of red PVC tape, the type that sticks to itself but not the latex. Did I mention that my Mistress thinks of everything? Windings of the red tape were pulled tight round my waist and more around my mouth before I was told to lie on the bondage Plank and await my restraint.  

Wrist and ankle cuffs were used to secure me along the full length of the Plank and there I stayed. Comfortably secured to the rings at top and bottom I was able to lie back and take in the magnificent spectacle of my Mistress in her black and transparent latex costume, complete with a latex hood with a single long blonde ponytail. She moved lithely round the Plank like a black panther about to pounce on her prey. I could have sworn that last time I saw my Mistress without her latex hood that she had the most striking raven black hair. . . oh well, I know I hallucinate in the presence of my owner.

Maggie chose to add an extra red element to her helpless slave, as promised in her calling mail it was a rubbery one in the form of a striking cock and ball sheath. Maggie said that it had a small hole at the tip that would be used for examining her property later. The latex sheath was secured in place with an ox-balls band and boy, did my cock and balls feel good being restricted in the tight latex. However, that self same red sheath eventually went on to play a major part in my staying power or, more precisely, lack of.

What can a slave do in this situation? One thing you can't do is talk and another is actively participate in licking your Mistresses latex panties as she majestically queens you. Maggie had eased herself onto the Plank with her bottom directly over my face. Try as I might I just couldn't wriggle my tongue through the red tape gag which meant the small nostril holes in the mask were my only source of breath in those luxurious, rare moments when air was briefly made available. I was subjected to that delightful feeling of being completely smothered as Maggie placed her latex covered bottom this way and that way, and pausing in the knowledge that I was safely and helplessly sealed in her airtight world. A thought wafted through me that my Mistress was ‘taking full control of her slave in a very rubbery and sensual way’ but I still couldn't wiggle my way through all that red tape!

After a far too short period of worshipping under my Ruler, it was time for more bondage. We tidied away the Plank and Maggie set about applying more red tape to arms and legs. This wasn't her normal tight application, in fact initially I thought Mistress was losing her touch. With my arms taped behind me and my ankles taped together I was still able to move both a little, and I thought that won’t keep me still for long. The wrapping, of course wasn't meant to fully restrain her slave, but merely impede my movements. With that beautifully innocent smile Maggie sent me hobbling off to the Clinic to retrieve a large plastic box. Now I could understand why the bindings weren’t tightened, but still very effective at hampering my progress. I could only take very short, ungainly steps and my arms had to be contorted to even reach the Playroom door handle. Being tall helped and although restrained, I had only a little trouble flicking the door open and waddling the short distance to the Clinic.

I think Mistress was surprised and even a little disappointed at how easily I seemed to accomplished the task. I even went back to close the Playroom door after dropping the box on the bed. That made Mistress more determined to give her smart Alec slave a far more challenging task that I really would struggle to complete. Another stripe of the red tape was positioned over my eyes creating an almost airtight blindfold and seal. Whilst still hobbling about wearing the arm and leg bindings I was told to locate the butt-plug from where I had deposited it earlier. Hmmm! I knew where I had put it when I came in but I was not helped by Maggie spinning me round and total disorientating her slave. I fumbled around trying to get my bearings and became concerned that I could do serious damage to items in the Playroom with my stumbling about.

It was then that the problem with the tight ox-ball and sheath started to creep up on me. It started with a slight ache in my groin and the pain in my cock and balls gradually increased as I carried on with 'hunt the butt-plug’. Anyway, as I fumbled around, one step at a time, feeling for the plug, seeing only the mist of red light through the blindfold, I just stopped dead needing to concentrate all my efforts on breathing and keeping the growing ache in cock and balls under control. Mistress saw that I was struggling and the tape gag was removed so I could talk and tell her how uncomfortable I was feeling. The hunting game was abandoned and the cock sheath removed.

After all that, the butt-plug wasn't missing at all, it was on the table exactly where it had been all the time. Maggie lubed it up and slid it into a position where I would definitely not misplace it again, she whispered how important the asshole stretching was, as bigger and wider things destined for the same space were looming on the horizon!

I felt a little more dressed with my plug in place as Mistress sat me down on her throne and set about attaching the ballet boots to her slave. Ah! That was what was in the box I had retrieved from the Clinic. The red taping was applied tighter and much more precisely this time, and a final wrap had me secured to the chair. I was left to stew like that, unable to stand, see or talk and told in no uncertain terms that I was a wimp and probably needed my balls removing so that I would fit into the sheath in future!

Luckily, Mistress did not immediately turn my balls into obsolete little round things, instead she decided I was going to have my head turned into an obsolete big round thing. My latex hood was carefully unzipped and taken away making way for the inflatable pewter latex hood, its little breathing pipe carefully positioned in my mouth and then the chlorinated rubber hood pulled over my head and finally, the bulb attached ready for inflation. I have worn the hood before on around half a dozen occasions and thought I had experienced its maximum inflation: None of it. Today it was. 'A few more pumps slave’, then what sounded like rain on a tight umbrella as Maggie teased her slave by drumming her finger nails on the tightening ball 'Just a few more pumps.' On each occasion my hearing became that bit more muffled until it was barely audible when Mistress once more insisted ‘Just a few more. . .’ I could however hear, very loud and very clear the results of those few pumps, hisss, hisss hisss went the cavity inside my balloon as my head was grasped, vice-like in the clinging rubber sheath and ‘Just a few more. . .’

When the pumping stopped and the pewter hood had reached full inflation it received a high gloss latex shine. This made another interesting sound as Mistress sprayed it on and rubbed it in. I was surprised that the fine spray actually sounded so loud inside my own little world. The tightness and restriction of the balloon is actually quite serene and gave me a feeling of both security and that wonderful sense of total commitment to, and ownership by my Mistress as I sat there enjoying the isolation, occasionally catching a glimpse of the top of Maggie's head as she came round the front and stroked my ballooning head, slowly drawing her fingernails along the taught rubber.

With the inflatable hood so pumped up, both movement and field of vision are severely restricted and you start to concentrate on retaining the breathing tube and relaxing. Shame on me, until I saw this photo I wasn't aware that the most magnificent pair of breasts a slave could ever wish to see were only inches away from my right cheek. Not a lot I could have done in any case apart from blowing my appreciation down my mouth tube.

I mentioned earlier that Mistress had threatened to remove my balls to help fit me into the sheath. I really am pleased to report that so far I am still in possession of her balls. The nearest we came to a de-nutting was Mistress applying a piece of rope around them to keep my balls neatly out of the way while she played with and stimulated my rear. However, my breath needed controlling first and Maggie set up her gas station with a re-breather bag, using a long corrugated hose to connect me to the system. A lengthy period of rubbery re-breathing followed whilst Maggie took plenty of time seductively explaining to her slave how she intended to stretch my asshole.

First she proudly displayed what looked like a butt-plug, about the same size as my own. She wanted me to see what it looked like with some added air and pumped it up with five squeezes of the pump. It looked large, round and fist sized, but I was re-assured that it would be made very slippery and would slide in easily. It was only when it was pumped up inside that I would receive the full fist benefit. Then, as its inbuilt vibrator was turned on so I could see what kind of buzz I would be receiving, I knew it was considerably different from the passive little plug I was currently wearing.

Maggie said, ‘A new butt plug has been ordered for you slave and you really do need to be prepared’. Mistress added a further five pumps to her rubber inflatable and demonstrated its increased size before my gas mask covered eyes.

‘Oh look what another five pumps can do, that will really fill your arse. When I have nicely inserted this plug in your bum I am going to pump it just like this’.

A condom was used on it and masses of lubrication massaged into it, the next thing I knew it was up my bum just as described, receiving the full buzzing jack-hammer effect throughout this part of my training. Even with the full ten pumps it wasn't particularly uncomfortable and, in any case it was what Mistress wanted so it was fine.

The observant amongst you may have noticed a little extra silver attachment between my legs. I now have a permanent mark of ownership from my Mistress and I am proud to wear the guiche for her. Maggie was keen to check how our piercing was healing and pleased with her slave to say the least!

The piercing was fitted by a local professional piercer almost two weeks ago and we were all satisfied it had stopped bleeding when we left her salon, but I must have caught it somehow. It was worrying at first because the piercing refused to stop bleeding, Mistress looked after me all afternoon dabbing up the blood with clean towels and trying to stem the flow. Not gushing but persistent drip drip. It certainly didn't hurt but it did make a bloody mess. Note to self for future: If I have another piercing I must remember not to take the aspirin! Anyway it was a temporary hitch, piercing and slave are healing well and no doubt Mistress is developing further plans for her slave in that area.

Gradually Mistress and her rubber toys were exploring and controlling all parts of her property. First the sensory deprivation of the inflatable hood, then the sensory overload of the re-breathing and vibrating plug, and now Mistress wanted to sound out the situation concerning the innards of her cock and decided on an alternative approach with a few pieces of surgical steel as Mistress was keen to see how wide a sound could be accepted down her cock. Never any forcing, a good dollop of lube and if the cock is happy, the sound slithers in of its own accord. Due to my earlier mishap with the cock sheath, unfortunately my Mistress had to forego the pleasure of inserting her sounds into a red rubber clad cock, although there was some mention of liquid latex being a possible way of adding an extra bit of colour in that area; I shall have to wait to see. Interesting though, the concept of a liquid latex cock and balls.😁

The Pratt sounds were being used and each one going in perfectly, an incredible feeling as they slowly enter and find their way down the urethra. Today, the largest I achieved was a Pratt 25, the same as last time, and I suspect future sessions may concentrate on gently achieving a Pratt 26 and beyond.

Another thing I strongly sensed was when a fully inserted sound comes in contact with a fully inflated and vibrating jack-hammer anal plug, something is going to give and quite rapidly. I muttered to Mistress that I was on the verge of cumming and asked if I could and. . . everything stopped abruptly. ‘Only if and when I say, slave’. Oh the frustration, but Mistress had more fun planned as she removed the Pratt, deflated the plug to replace it with a much longer, hand held, inflatable dildo.

Once more I was given a guided tour of the dildo and what Maggie was going to do with it, I had to wait a little before the monster was finally inserted as Maggie was intent on a little fun for herself. My breathing hose was disconnected from the re-breather bag and attached to her own personal dildo. Maggie wasted no time in making it disappear up her skirt and using her dildo toy, a guiding hand from Mistress and I was told exactly where to hold it. I am always amazed at the dexterity of my Mistress; as I held her dildo in place, without any problem or hesitation, Mistress removed my vibrating butt-plug and replaced it with the long inflatable pole, my dildo was being inflated and retained with one of Maggie's hands, whilst her other hand had lubed up her cock and balls and started playing with my shaft.

I was left heaving in air via Maggie's dildo as it sunk deeper inside Mistress and there was only one outcome as Mistress Maggie gave her command. . . ‘You can cum now slave’, and I did.

I know I disappoint my Mistress; today it was the ache in cock and balls but I really do try my hardest to fulfil that part of my promise - To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question. I just wish the body could fulfil all that promise but at least the mind always complies. Funny how things change. When I was at work, the thought of red-tape gave me the heebie-jeebies, now . . . 😀

A Right Pain in the Bum

Mistress Maggie allowed her sadistic, cruel side to surface once again, to elicit a little concern and a lot of dismay from her very loyal slave. Not because of the punishment I was about to receive, that was fully deserved and expected as I had been pre-warned twice, firstly when the incident happened, 'A dose of discipline from your displeased Mistress will remind you to double check facts before broadcasting’. And secondly in the calling e-mail, 'Your punishment for embarrassing me has been determined and will be carried out ahead of a steamy ordeal'. Mistress NEVER forgets or changes a punishment; no matter what you do or say you will receive the ordained amount.

No, Maggie's cruel sadistic side materialised when I was sent to the bathroom with instructions to put on my black rubber gloves, socks and shorts, and to bring the item I found there back to the Chambers for my chastisement. What I found was a cane, about two feet long and the thickness of a little finger; a veritable mean bum breaking machine. I knew it was going to hurt!

Mistress had already positioned the Horse exactly where she wanted it for maximum purchase and accuracy in her swing. I duly presented the cane to her and without thought or argument positioned myself along the bench ready to receive it. 'I have decided, twenty strokes’, she announced. Depending on the severity of the punishment Mistress may expect me to bend and take it, but on this occasion my hands were roped securely forward and my ample girth confined tightly to the punishment Horse. With the ease of the exceptional Mistress that she is, my head was swiftly inserted into a rather nice rubber hood 'to catch some of the screams and crying'. I was advised to thank Mistress after each stroke and repeat ‘Less haste more attention’, or something very similar, to remind me not to repeat the mistake in future.

I was really glad of the strong ropes, as by halfway I was turning the horse into a bucking bronco at each stroke. It was starting to place a real strain on my resolve; the only thing keeping me from screaming was the knowledge that Mistress deemed my punishment as deserved and necessary. Those of you who have played the children's game Buckaroo will understand exactly how I was feeling.

18 Thank You Mistress, more haste. . . 19 Thank you. . . 20.  OH the relief, but I did remember a final Thank you. . .  I must say Maggie is not a complete sadist, because every four or five strokes she would stop, come into my limited field of vision, and through the perforated latex hood gently stroke my head. Each time I got a perforated reminder of how stunning Mistress looks in her leather skirt and corset, topped with a stunning blouse and bottomed with the most precisely placed seams on the sheerest black nylons you could imagine; dead straight up those perfect legs. That vision also helped sustain my poor arse through its ordeal.

At the end of my punishment it was really strange. My arse, which had been on fire for twenty strokes just felt numb. I might have quipped about having a numb bum - but I didn't. I just lay there assimilating and absorbing the pain. Mistress deposited a string of anal beads right under my nose, in my post-punishment haze and with my restricted vision I thought it was a ball gag and tried to be helpful by opening my mouth wide. Wrong end fool. Those beads were destined for another orifice. With a large dollop of lube, accompanied by the kind of farting sounds you can only get when the last dredges are being squeezed from a bottle. . . 'Remind me to get some more lube, slave,’ each of the four balls were easily lodged up my numb bum hole.

Maggie cleaned away a spot of cane induced blood from my backside, before spending considerably more time cleaning that damn cane which had created 20 quite livid weals across it. The punishment I had taken today illustrates how your own personal limits can be gradually extended through suitable training. Four years ago I would have died at the thought of six strokes with a springy cane, yet here I was accepting 20 strokes with something more resembling a telegraph pole.

Punishment over Mistress relaxed back to her training persona and divested all her garments, to be replaced with a clear pair of plastic dungarees. Now, even through the perforations, that wonderful vision helped divert my attention away from my arse, which by now was just starting to warm and become less numb. Her perfect figure was clearly on display yet totally protected by the plastic and it was other areas of my anatomy that were now reacting to the charged situation.

Mistress is used to her slaves reaction, ignored the growing erection and helped me into a thick smoky black plastic catsuit. I have worn this suit before and it has been carefully modified by Maggie; she made a reinforced opening in it for her cock and balls. The latex hood that I had worn throughout my punishment ordeal was now removed, revealing a very wet and bedraggled slave. After a few hilarious jibes about the way I looked Mistress handed me a towel, with instruction to dry my hair and smarten up for some more plastic. She wanted to try out a new breathplay combination in the form of a close fitting hood and a new latex muzzle.

Even after drying, a little talc was necessary to ease my chins inside the soft clingy plastic without damaging the hood. Mistress liked the look of the combination but the practicalities for long-term use soon looked less hopeful, unfortunately the nose holes did not line up as well as she would like. At least I had the pleasure of testing it out and quietly suffocating in it for a while, before alerting her that it couldn’t be worn for longer, as the airflow was simply too restricted. A lovely item the muzzle though, with adjustable head straps and rubber neck corset. So when Maggie was ready to move us into the White Room, off it came, but no doubt we will be re-introduced again in the not too distant future.

The clinic had been prepared with a definite plastic theme; a thick plastic bodybag spread out on the gynae couch being the centrepiece. Mistress interviewed me first, asking me questions about my recent cock health and performance. She said that she’d be taking care of her slaves routine piss hole maintenance today, and that it could be a messy business. Better lie on some protective plastic then. Maggie opened the bodybag’s zip all the way, I gingerly sat in the offered position which did start my caned arse stinging, and finally relaxed inside. I was strapped in and zipped up ready for Mistresses next exercise.

I was informed that my external temperature must be monitored through two little pads attached at either side of my balls. To tell the truth it felt like the tens unit, especially when Maggie turned it on to Program E, but I assume new technology can take a slaves temperature in this manner? And now for internal measurements and stretching exercises. More lube, a few choice decisions regarding the sound size and Mistress was carefully inserting ever increasing sized sounds from her Pratt kit down the inside of her cock. I took Pratt sound size 27 relatively easily but the next size up refused to slide in. With my highest sound size limit noted Maggie was satisfied with the stretching progress she had made with her slave, she indicated that in a future session we would be returning to the clinic for continued stretching of the urethra.

Yet another strange use of new technology was introduced now, by way of what was reported to be an internal thermometer. You can guess where that ended up along with its associated electrode; stuck inside my penis shaft. Oh yes, Mistress really does need to know how hot it is in there, how else does she know whether to switch her electric up or down? The electrastim sensation was set to a very unnerving level, and to add to the steamy atmosphere the zip was finally closed over my face and I started to use up the air inside the body bag. No sympathy from Mistress as she pointed out there was a suitable sized hole at cock level to let in plenty of air.

It is a strange feeling gradually consuming all the air inside the bodybag, unlike the other breath play methods that I have enjoyed with Maggie the effects are much slower to show themselves. The plastic is thick and doesn't mould itself to your face, in fact the lack of oxygen creeps up slowly and insidiously. Perhaps I should suggest Mistress installs carbon dioxide monitors inside the body bags, but then again they are not required as I trust Mistress implicitly and have agreed to go wherever she wants to take her slave.

As Maggie unhitched her plastic slave from the clinic couch she revealed that a lot more plastification awaited me, but I will have to tell you about that in a future episode, because for the first time in all my 4+ years in training Mistress changed her mind ‘ . . or maybe not’, she said. Instead we spent quiet time lounging on the latex bed, where we just chilled out in our plastic suits, talking and enjoying each others company. It is an amazing thing lying there talking and just gazing at Maggie’s smiling profile in the subdued lighting of the Playroom. I didn't change my mind though about being the luckiest slave alive; a perfect Mistress, with a laugh and smile to die for and once more, in the presence of my Mistress, I felt really alive.

Needless to say Mistress made sure her cock was kept under strict control during this time, however a lot more willpower was required when Mistress decided a little plastic face-sitting would bring the session to a suitable finale, and I was told in no uncertain terms not to embarrass myself. Slurp went the last few drops of lube inside her dungarees and Mistress mounted my face with her lubed up plastic protected rear. I get the distinct impression Mistress Maggie enjoys slipping around on the nose of her suffocating slave and the severe ache I left the Chambers with on that very lucky Friday 13th had nothing to do with a sore arse.

Mistress, if you read this, I have to remind you to get some more lube!