Getting Warmer

I was a little better prepared for this session as the calling e-mail did at least contain a few slivers of clues as to where Mistress Maggie wanted to go today -

'… Pack your kit bag with your Invincible catsuit and matching black accessories, plus your red butt plug to bring along to session. Your rubber nurse will be performing operations, hopefully without increasing your fear of needles, but a steady smell of rubber will be provided to help you stay relaxed'.

Well it sounded like we’d be ending up in the Clinic and also likely a few pins and needles would be stuck into Mistresses cock and balls. It was an interesting prospect and as a consequence I was somewhat excited when I arrived.

For the first time this year, Mistress Maggie had me starting to perspire inside my two layers of latex but more of this later. I was already being made to feel a little steamy under the collar as soon as I was greeted by Mistress; a vision in latex at the door to the Chambers. 

Mistress was just about covered with her natural latex dress. I say just about, because my lustful gaze was drawn to the top of her beautiful nylon covered thighs, that were exposed beneath its hemline. Her incredibly erotic dress was adorned with a red cap and red wrist covers and at the other end, Mistress wore her cream lace up boots. This assault on my senses almost made me forget to present the flowers I had brought for Mistress and some wine for Maggie and her husband as it is shortly to be his birthday.

Returning from the Bathroom in my foundation garments of black latex gloves and socks, and still proudly wearing my slave collar, I set about my first duty, that of boot worship. Mistress was casually swinging her crop, ‘Slave, I will be cropping any fat bits that come in range of my crop while you are tending to my boots’, she said. Well that was a relief, there would be no cock and ball cropping as they could certainly not be classed as fat, or so I thought. 

It is actually quite difficult kissing and licking the front of the boots due to the pronounced laces, the best tactic is not to give too much heed to what passes beneath your tongue, just be careful and lick everything. I was also consigned onto my back, between Mistresses legs, so that I could accept the small heels into my mouth for cleaning. The soles didn’t make life any easier as they are heavily ribbed and knobbly. Anyway, I did my best as I always do and by way of gratitude Mistress gave me a couple of crops on the less fatty bits!

I received a black hood after the worship and I probably shouldn’t admit to this, but as I leaned forward for the zip to be closed I took opportunity to briefly snuggle into the upper reaches of the natural latex dress. Life just gets better and better. 

My own Invincible suit went on relatively easily with the help of a little talc but wasn’t the end of my latex covering. Hanging in a neat clothing bag was another latex suit; a thinner chlorinated one in a clinical red colour. Mistress extracted it from the bag. I have had the privilege of wearing this on a few occasions and the feel is simply divine. As I mentioned, it is of very thin latex and needs extreme caution to get it on. The ankle, waistline and wrists cuffs are reinforced and were the only parts that needed to be stretched as I donned the suit. 

It feels so slinky and slithery on top of my working suit and I immediately felt a difference in temperature; the two suits holding the warmth of my body and gradually getting me a little warmer and warmer. I knew that even if Maggie opened the crotch zips of both suits I was going to get a lot warmer as the session progressed.

Neat stitching

Mistress clipped a lead on my collar and guided me through to the Clinic which was neatly set out with straps, sheets etc that Maggie needed for her operations. I was instructed to climb on the couch and position myself with my legs up so Maggie could access my bum. I have had a lot of practice and am pretty well versed with positioning myself appropriately, and although manoeuvring was a little hampered by the stout tan straps that Mistress had  just used to strap my arms to my body, it only took a little shuffle to end up where Mistress wanted me.

Despite the tan straps Mistress must have thought I might still manage to escape her operations, because she took care of my hands too, fitting and inflating rubber mittens on them before using the couch straps and stirrups to fix me in place. Utilising the pre opened bum zip, an anal electrode was thrust into the deepest darkest void and tested for connectivity. It worked and continued its stimulation for the rest of the time it was inside my backside.

I had no idea what kind of special operation Nurse Maggie had planned for me, but she said, ‘It’s best you have a catheter. Now seems like a good time’, before disappearing from the clinic to wash her hands. The familiar operation to install a catheter is, by now, almost routine; gloves on, sterile drapes, meths to clean the area (that stings), anaesthetic down the pee hole and after a suitable delay to allow the lube to numb the area the sterile gloves are unpacked, donned, and the catheter slipped in. It was with so little fuss and certainly no discomfort whatsoever, that I did have to ask if it was in! Whether it was an experiment I don’t know, but Maggie only used 20mm of saline to 2/3 inflate the catheter balloon and also attached a stopper rather than a piss bag. I didn’t find out that there was no bag until a while later. You’ll see what happened.

Moving on to the meat of an operation, Maggie as thoughtful as ever recommended a latex anaesthesia hood and aromas pump hose because things were likely to be a little painful during the main procedure. Maggie explained it would be a new kind of suturing today and proceeded to sew stitches down both sides of my cock, attaching it to my balls and stitching a pair of electrodes into the op zone while she was at it. As usual, I couldn’t see this delicate operation but could feel the needle going in and I am quite pleased with myself that I didn’t make a sound. What wasn’t so pleasing was the fact I orgasmed again as Mistress was finishing off her suturing.

I am beginning to understand why I orgasm in this kind of operation; I believe it is to do with the realisation that my manhood is no longer worth anything. The fact that I am gladly accepting that my Mistress has that much control over my cock and balls really hits the spot.

With the drape removed Maggie now raised the couch to a more upright position so she could attach me to the waiting bellows; Maggie's own creation and relatively easy to live with. However, just like other types of rebreathing set-ups the seal between the hood and bellows needed to be complete, which meant my eye holes had to go. Maggie soon took care of that by adding one of her rubber blindfolds and I spent quite a relaxing time accepting my recycled air through the bellows, enhanced by the occasional infusion of wonderful aromas and the constant electric stimulation in my bum, behind the sutures and all places in-between.

By this time I was becoming confused about my increasing need to pee. Surely the catheter would take care of that need? Anyway, I just let go. I couldn’t hold it and alerted Mistress to the fact I thought I was peeing myself. ‘You have!’, was the bad news from Maggie. Apparently pee was seeping out around the stopper and making a mess on the clinic floor. A catheter bag was now attached which immediately started filling up with the contents of my desperate bladder. With amusement in her voice Maggie told me what would be happening next. ‘Right slave, that’s it. You’ve made a mess and will have to be punished, again!’

The punishment was to drink the contents of my own pee bag and this was achieved by taking my hood off, strapping a tube gag into my mouth and putting the hood back on again. Despite the leakage I had drained a considerable volume into the bag and devious as ever, Mistress made sure I drank big mouthfuls by pumping it in. 

It did take a lot of recycling and even when the cath bag was empty there was more. Mistress had reserved some of her own pee for such an occasion, this treat came in a jug and Maggie used a syringe to deliver the extra fluid down the tube gag. I have to admit that that unnerved me a lot. I had no control of what went in and no option but to drink or gag.

Mistress has always to be in control, but by this time I was struggling to drink which is very disappointing considering I like Mistresses pee far more than my own. It was getting a little late by this time and Mistress decided to use my pleas for mercy to bring the session to a close. Of course I was still wearing stitches, taking those out was far more painful than insertion because I was post orgasm and coming down from my high. 

I wouldn’t have missed the experience for anything, and by the end quite a lot of sweat had built up inside my own suit. Having received enough punishment for one day I was fortunate that none managed to leak onto Mistress Maggie's clinic floor!

And finally, another big THANK YOU to the most perfect Mistress a slave could ever want or need.

Caution: This 02:00min rubber and pissplay clip has audio

A Tale of Two C...'s

Mistress Maggie has allowed her slave considerable freedom and with it considerable responsibility in the requirement to suggest games that she may wish to consider in my future training sessions. Take this session for example, session 211 to be precise. I knew it would likely be in the Clinic, as my previous session where Maggie had read me a rubber bedtime story took place in the Playroom. Mistress likes to alternate between her two venues and has rarely deviated from that pattern. So what suggestions could I make to both improve my slavemanship, be realistic, and of the greatest importance, keep Maggie amused and entertained in her Clinic?

Well, with gay abandon, I penned the following:

'HIDE THE BO**OCKS

I did see a picture of one of your recent operations and was wondering if it is possible to attach electrodes inside the stitching and have a catheter coming from within? It is merely a suggestion for advancing the previous operation and of course is entirely up to you…'

Sometimes I question my own sanity. I was suggesting a mangina; a horizontal one like I’d seen in the picture, a catheter and electrodes and knowing Mistress, if she did decide on this route then it would not be any ordinary stitch up!

I sauntered to the Chambers in reasonable weather. I decided to wear my rubber trench coat just in case and I felt relaxed that I had a reasonable idea of what might lay in store. Before all that and the realisation of yet another fantasy likely to be played out, we had quite a bit of housekeeping to perform, that resulted in me missing out on worshipping Mistresses footwear for the first time I can remember. I have mentioned that Maggie likes to keep her slaves off balance and this threw me.

The housekeeping involved two of my catsuits. The first was a quick check of the work I had had to perform on my plum coloured catsuit, where I got the zip stuck while wearing it at home and had cut away a small piece of the zip to extricate myself. Thank goodness, Mistress emailed me with a suggestion on how to terminate the zipper so it wouldn’t get stuck in future. A thick stitching of cotton round the top of both sides of the zip, tidy up the neckline and Mistress was quite satisfied.

Twin Catheters

The second bit of housekeeping involved the testing of a brand new red catsuit that I’d had delivered to Maggie’s to replace my torn one. Slightly larger, slightly thicker and zips at arms and legs. The fit was excellent and hopefully Mistress will allow me to wear it in session at some future date. In any event, I missed my foot worship and it did feel a little strange not kneeling and worshipping Mistress at the start of a session, although I didn’t get away with not kneeling altogether. The hunt for a new butt plug for me is still ongoing, and with my ass pointing skywards we did get to try yet another plug that had arrived. This time the Regulation plug was oh so close and Maggie is confident that this one will fit, particularly with a few puffs of aromas to ease its passage. Fingers crossed it will soon become my fulfilling friend.

Once an electro butt plug was snugly fitted and put through its paces, I climbed into my working Invincible suit and I was led through to the clinic by Mistress in her intriguing surgeon’s uniform, a sight to behold in her beautiful gold latex catsuit, black apron, gold corset, black and white nurse accents, and of course those thigh boots that didn’t receive my tongue attention.

While travelling, Maggie described what she intended to do with her slave in keeping with my suggestion. The unusual part was that Maggie smiled and said I would be receiving two, yes TWO catheters. Wow, I had never heard of that before and attempted to visualise what it would look like, but no doubt, when the blog is published the practice of ‘double cathing’ will become more commonplace. Mistress is an innovator and deserves credit for her imaginative surgery, and I suspect she will be secretly pleased when she discovers the first similar operation.

Electrodes and a Tale of Two C's

The Clinic looked invitingly rubbery; the heavy cream bodybag lay waiting on the couch and it didn’t take long to receive the privilege of being incarcerated inside it with my arms tucked into the inner arm pockets and tightly bound up with buckled straps. My head was placed in an immobilizer which allows no movement, and to finish off this bit of control, Maggie applied a semi-translucent rebreather hood. I was quickly into the rhythm of slow breaths in and out and I felt certain I could have remained like that for a very long time, and certainly until the end of the session. There is one breathing hole and every time I breathed out I caught a glimpse of Mistress who was moving around her charge. Slow in. Slow out. Regular and unhurried breathing. Wonderful!

Mistress explained that the first part of the procedure was the introduction of two catheters down my cock. I wasn’t at all worried. Why worry when you can’t do anything about the situation? So I relaxed back into my breathing, in out, in out, as Maggie squirted what appeared to be a rather large syringe full of anaesthetic lubrication down my cock. Slowly but surely I could feel it creeping further towards my bladder then… no feeling at all as Mistress started the delicate task of introducing the two c’s. She debated whether it would be easier to do one then try the other or to introduce the two together. I’m not too certain which path she finally took, but I felt no discomfort whatsoever and, as frequently happens with a single cath, I asked Maggie if she had managed the two by which she replied -

‘Yes, both in and inflated’.

Then she confided it was her first attempt at twin c’s and she was delighted with her guinea pig slave’s ability to accept them. I was just delighted that my Mistress felt she could use her slave in this way.

Maggie’s intention was to feed both catheters into a single bag by using a t-piece connector. Unfortunately, the connector she thought might work refused to produce a watertight seal, so the more traditional approach of twin pee bags was used. Next time though, two into one will go for whoever is fortunate enough to be #2 for two caths, because Maggie never gives up on hunting out the perfect solution.

At this point Mistress reminded me of what I had requested. The hidden electrodes, cock sealed away etc and decided that it would be appropriate to allow her slave some relief by way of aromas. Of course aromas with the re-breather hood was a no no so I was fitted with the red full head gas mask and once sealed in and airtight, the inlet tube was fastened to the gas-station where I was plumbed into the aroma channel (sounds like a radio station. Welcome to the Aroma channel. The best way to relaxation and…) sorry about that, a bit light headed thinking of the wonderfully relaxed and floating feeling that can be generated after a couple of puffs.

I had requested electrics as well, probably induced by a rush of blood to me or my cock at the time of writing, and Maggie duly trimmed down a couple of sticky electrodes and attached them to my shaft and let the sewing begin! As you would expect, surgeon Maggie made sure the area was thoroughly cleaned and disinfected with meths swabs. ‘Now this might sting a bit slave’. It certainly stings at first but quickly wears off. The sterile operating sheet draped across and Maggie informed me that she wanted to use her needlework skills rather than staples, so sutures it was.

A little prick then another as the needle and thread went in then emerged, a few whiffs of aromas then another two pricks… Nine stitches in total and really I felt nothing more than a pinprick each. Satisfied with her embroidery, the electrics were then set alive, caressed my captive cock and balls and complimenting the sensations deep inside my arse… Fascinating!

It is strange how your cock can’t grow because of the sutures yet your balls are telling it to get bigger! What an experience and I was glad Maggie had been able to accommodate my rather weird request. In fact, I was allowed out of the cream rubber bondage sack and encouraged to walk through to the Playroom to view Mistresses creation in the full length mirror and stroke my operation zone with my chlorinated latex gloves.

It was a weird yet exciting sight to behold the results of my operation. The sutures were evident, the twin c’s providing a nice symmetry either side of the wires and all in all no cock and balls to worry about. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on which way you look at the situation,  Mistress relented and snipped out the stitches,  removed the twin caths and electrodes and apart from a few very feint pin holes, that disappeared very quickly, everything returned to normal.

I loved every minute of the situation and once again I think I honoured my promise to my Mistress, To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question. Thank you Mistress Maggie.

Expunged and Inflated

Imagine the scene. I knock, and after an appropriate delay I am greeted, firstly with the sight of a big red dildo, then by a red latex clad beauty. Mistress Maggie was wearing a pair of tights composed of a really unusual material. It looked latexy and just like latex it certainly hugged her beautiful legs (lucky tights), yet it was not latex. The tights had a black sheen but certainly not as glossy as the brand new boots Mistress was sporting. All in all I started to drool at the sight of my beautiful dominatrix and this time I made no bones about trying to get close to that perfect derriere that was so teasing as we climbed the stairs.  

All sins expunged

The sight, sound and scent all reinforced why I am so devoted to Maggie. I think of my promise to my owner and reaffirm, silently, that I would do anything Mistress asks immediately and without hesitation. I really am under the spell of this mischievous, magnificent maiden. 

Oh, and by the way, I was a little apprehensive about the size of the dildo waving happily in my direction. It may just be that with it being bright red the girth was more visible than other black ones that have made their way up my bum, or was it truly bigger than my previous visitors? No matter, with any luck I would be able to gauge the size of Maggie’s new joy toy in the very near future.

After disrobing in the bathroom and returning in latex socks and gloves, I was given the opportunity to get up close and personal with the new boots. I did feel privileged when Maggie mentioned I was the first slave to be given the honour with the new boots and I worked doubly hard to ensure they remained sparklingly clean. I also was granted a couple of moments licking a small area of the black tights. They certainly licked like rubber and had I been blindfold I might have mistaken them for latex. There are a few tell tale signs that differentiate them; the smell, or rather the lack of latex smell, there is a slight 'material' feel on the tongue which isn't evident with  latex, but all in all they are a wonderful addition to my licking experiences. 

What was a little more of a concern was the matter of fact way that Maggie recounted a series of infractions that had occurred, and not necessarily since my last punishment, these were to be taken care of following my worship. Many times in the past I have been so engrossed with boot cleaning that I didn't want that part to end. On this occasion I was hoping that it wouldn't end because of the descriptions of what I was about to receive and why.

But alas, there was no way of escaping the strokes and I was un-ceremonially draped over the horse and lashed down with Maggie's white rope, tight enough to reinforce this was a punishment and not a sensual flogging. Punished as follows -

Beating with a leather butterfly crop, 12 strokes with it for a crackpot remark I had made on twitter

Over the knee spanking for sucking hard on the piss pants tube and sealing Maggie tightly inside them, meaning she had been unable to assess the success of her latest watersports setup back in July ’21, leading to 6 extra junior cane strokes for being cheeky about the sucking. At the time it was amusing but after the junior cane the remark was not so funny!

12 strokes with the senior cane for surreptitiously pumping aromas when not authorised way back in November ’19.

As this was a punishment, all strokes were delivered quickly, without hesitation and straight on the bare arse. Mistress may have a memory like an elephant but is always fair, and at the end of the punishment she did state all past sins were now expunged and the slate wiped clean (or was it whipped clean?).

Once again, I was relieved, or rather the heat in my ass was relieved when I was slipped quickly into my latex suit. The relief of the cooling rubber is really palpable and I breathed a sigh of relief as Mistress attached a lead and walked me through to the Clinic.

I clambered onto the centre of the couch in response to a barely perceptible gesture, which I am getting better at recognising due to my training, and instructed to slide down the couch so my ass was over the end and legs firmly up in the stirrups. I think I was about to be introduced to Big Red! 

I am a very lucky slave to be honoured with an incredible pegging by an incredible Mistress and after the initial shock when Big Red makes the first incision and slips through the sphincter, I was in heaven. To be well and truly taken in such a manner must rank as one of the greatest exchanges a slave can receive from his Mistress. Unlike the punishment this ended all too quickly, but as a reminder of my trip to heaven Mistress inserted the long string of anal balls. Four in total on a semi rigid stem, which result in approximately 12" of insertion up your back passage. Once in, the back zip was closed and the balls hidden safely out of sight.

I then helped Maggie with attaching the extension to the couch to allow me to lie almost flat, and once the extension was attached I was helped into a second latex suit. This was comfortable and of light construction and I thought it strange that Mistress would grant me this luxury as she guided me back onto the now flat couch and eased me into the inflatable hood. With a bit of adjustment and a little struggling, the hood was also able to accommodate an anaesthesia mask to allow nose breathing. This is an important innovation because without this, any aroma delivered would be into the mouth and this has proved less effective than nasal inhalation. At this point Maggie changed into her medical gown and I knew the 'operation' I had requested was imminent.

The inflatable hood was pumped up and a few puffs of aromas had me ready and relaxed for what was about to happen. Last time I suggested an operation so it could have been several options; needle work to stomach, needle work to nipples, catheter sewn into cock... Maggie chose to de-male me by sewing the end of my penis neatly away from view by covering it with my ball sack.

Naturally, as you would expect from such a professional, Maggie thoroughly cleaned the area of the operation before inserting the first suture. Regular infusions of aromas were offered and willingly accepted, maintaining a great calm that I was able to sustain through all 6 sutures. Being intimately handled by a fantastic surgeon results in a pathetic cock attempting to become a little less pathetic. The stitches soon put an end to that idea and I was still left with a pathetic cock, but this time straining for greatness that in its current predicament could never happen.

All pumped up with nowhere to go!

It hadn't registered until now that the second suit that I was comfortable wearing was inflatable to match the hood. I was soon made aware of this remarkable capability when Maggie attached the pump and things suddenly got a lot tighter. Mistress pumped and pumped but fortunately the strong couch straps contained a lot of pressure so it was snug but not huge. Every now and then, Maggie allowed me periods without the aroma tube, treating me to lungfuls of her own exhaled air instead. That was warm and very sweet and was indeed another little luxury I had not expected. 

It was a good job that I was securely strapped, because Mistress decided on some electrical fun with her electro drum brush coupled with an electro pad round where my cock used to be, and proceeded to beat out a quick tattoo across my sutures. I thought the punishment beatings hurt but this was almost unbearable. I tried to endure the sharp stabbing pains for as long as I could because I knew my discomfort was giving amusement to Mistress.

I have said in the past Maggie is not an out and out sadist and is aware of threshold levels that her subjects can endure. After a while I could tell from her voice that the idea of moderating her electric torture may have her somewhat disappointed, and my screaming died away to a low moan of satisfaction as her phone rang and there was a natural break in the excruciating pain. 

This used to be my c@@k!

The e-stim was only at level 10, normally a level I can accommodate, but I think the concentration of the electricity into the fine wire of the drum brush appeared to magnify the pain. As the call finished Mistress relented, having checked that the sutures were still in place she replaced the brush with a second electro  pad and all was well with the world.

It is so frustrating when your cock is so effectively sewn out of the way and your beautiful Mistress is gently stroking where your cock used to be, but I wouldn't exchange the experience for anything.

The final act from Mistress Maggie was to release all straps holding her slave in place and as she did so, I ballooned like a Michelin man. That tickled both of us and we closed the session in a happy frame of mind.

So, for next time, I suggested suspension isolation. Maggie has complete authority to interpret that as she wishes or to totally ignore. Watch this space and thank you Mistress for another exciting adventure.

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.

Next Time . . .

Next time Mistress Maggie presents such an exciting and scary opportunity I hope I am able to grasp it with both hands; metaphorically grasp it, as will become apparent later in my report. But to start with I was greeted by my Mistress in a fantastic diaphanous latex outfit, teamed with a most prominent glass dildo which was twinkling in my direction. Beneath the clear invader were the long, very long white boots that climb all the way up those statuesque legs, almost, but not quite, to the base of her glass sparkler.

It was my birthday so I had decided to bring a surprise to the party; finally plucking up the courage to wear my latex clothes with no covering coat this time, I made my way to the Chambers. The day was warm, and despite very heavy traffic and one or two passing pedestrians no one appeared interested in a happy chappy with a slave collar sauntering down the road like a rubber pervert, carrying my session bag and a big smile. I really needn’t have been worried, though I probably won’t repeat such a show as I think Maggie may have been a little concerned about attracting attention on her doorstep. Even so my surprise made her smile and she had a good feel at my warm latex.

I always get that familiar buzz as I follow the most beautiful derrière up the stairs to The Playroom. Today Maggie’s bottom was framed by the neat rows of ruffles that embellished her skimpy rubber shorts. Once upstairs I was told to remove my latex, the only item of rubber I was allowed were my knee length stockings, nothing else. Not the catsuit or even the gloves, although I was temporarily allowed to keep my shirt. Why? - because Maggie declared that today was going to be plastic fantastic.

I used to be drawn primarily to latex until Mistress helped me realise that it is her that is the aphrodisiac and not the material, though I must admit to still having a preference for Mistress in all her various latex garments.

Maggie attempted a new method of footwear worship, seated down in front of her throne I was instructed to shuffle backwards into the V of her legs. What a start! With the warmth of my Mistress in the nape of my neck, stroking my hair in a wonderful manner, I could have relaxed there all day. The only drawback was that with Maggie's thighs clamped round her slave I was unable to turn my head far enough to do justice to my position. Unfortunately the delight had to end all too quickly and I was instructed to move to the more conventional position and to proceed with the boot worship, which I duly attended to as my Mistress wished.

Kneeling upright again, I barely had time to lick my lips before the sound of crinkling plastic came from a freshly opened bag and my head was soon enclosed inside. There is nothing like a good bagging to make you feel glad to be alive, and I had the added bonus of being able to gaze adoringly at my captor with her sparkling glass dildo, which seemed to have forgotten which bit of anatomy it was intended for and took the liberty of poking me in the eye!

More plastic, this time containing a small celebratory birthday tipple poured from a rather nice bottle of red. We then relaxed with a toast and enjoyed the wine. I have had 6 birthdays now in the company of my Mistress; that is 6 years where I have really felt alive and I wished for the next 6 years in heaven and the next 6 . . .

Maggie roped me to the horse very lightly and mounted me with the glass dildo, gently inserted and accompanied with a soft whisper of ‘happy birthday slave’ I was being ridden to heaven. There was no necessity for the ropes, I would willingly have remained prone, but I do feel more owned by Mistress when I am wearing restraints, particularly whilst being mounted. Most enjoyable.

Feeling a little underdressed in only my birthday suit and latex stockings we adjourned to the White Room, where the room had already been prepared for the plastic fantastic. Spread out on the couch was the thick plastic body bag that I have lovingly occupied in the past, and that very nice clear plastic hood with the two breathing holes.

Once comfortably fitted and secured inside the hood I climbed aboard and was sealed and strapped into my new home for the rest of the afternoon. I love that hood. It restricts breathing but allows sufficient air supply, every breath is worth it if only for its distinctive plastic bouquet, more importantly I get a very clear vision of my Mistress as she moves around the Clinic preparing my next pleasurable experience.

Mistress set up a breathing circuit for her patient and held an anaesthetic mask over my mouth, the aroma accompanied by sweet verbal encouragement from Maggie sent me into a deep relaxed state. She removed my butt plug replacing it with a Bardex enema pump . . . Ah, an enema was coming my way. ‘Are you allergic to peppermint slave?’ she asked and I confirmed that I wasn’t. Mistress then mixed up a solution and filled up a huge syringe making sure that its contents were infused right where the sun don’t shine.

I was feeling quite warm and grateful of the peppermint’s cooling properties, a little of the cordial had trickled down my cheeks and collected in a cool pool at the base of my spine. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere in the watertight plastic body bag and the liquid soon warmed as my treatments progressed.

I could have stayed all afternoon like that; breathing in and out carefully and gazing at my beautiful Mistress as she liberally applied cocoa butter on all of her slaves available body parts, rubbing it in with her warm hands. Maggie zipped up the bodybag to seal everything in, flicked the room heater up to high and started playing her industrial strength hair dryer all over my plastic covered torso. Today had just climbed quite a few degrees warmer.

Encouraged by the results of the warming on her subject, Maggie began to stir the mix with her violet wand, making sparks jump from my saturated skin. I think other forms of electrical 'enjoyment' for her simmering pot were considered but she opted for the wand as a simple, safe, sensible and sane way of bringing her slave closer to the boil.

Unfortunately, I had to lose the plastic hood because the aroma mask and breathing holes just wouldn't play together, so staying with the plastic theme Maggie simply bound my head with clear plastic bondage tape with a loose flap across the mouth. Now that worked a treat and it allowed comfortable use of the anaesthetic mask while administering gradual doses of aroma. The mask was obviously attached to a rebreather bag because when Maggie told me to ‘take deep breaths slave’ I could hear the breathy noises as I breathed deeply.

So long as you breath in and out quite slowly, the rebreather allows sufficient air to keep you going indefinitely, yet it is torture of the most delicious kind. You have to concentrate on breathing while Mistress goes about her other tasks that certainly do not aid concentration. Maggie has trained her slave well and I had no problem maintaining a steady rhythm despite more heat, more massaging and more peppermint.

Mistress covered me up in an extra layer of green plastic now and began heating it up with her hairdryer. By now I’d had another two huge syringe fulls of the peppermint enema and the aromas were having a wonderfully calming and relaxing effect. I realised then what Mistress meant in her somewhat ambiguous calling email - 'I thought I might take you for a swim for your birthday. Your rubber Mistress will be keeping an eye on you as you float away and manage the extra water at the deep end.' 

Despite the continuous efforts to really heat me up, with a combination of the cooling peppermint, soothing body butter and relaxing aromas, I felt absolutely wonderful. Too lazy to actually swim anywhere, but more than happy to float in all the juices.

Operation time, and I really didn't feel the staples being punched into my groin area. I wont say cock and balls because by the time my Mistress had finished with them they had ceased to exist.

Picking up another syringe she injected a good dose of lubricating jelly behind the staples and into the operation area. Mistress was dissatisfied with her stapler, it had only dispensed a few staples before it went faulty, she was genuinely disappointed and threatened to send it back. I know that when they work properly she finds a stapler far more user friendly than the sutures she previously used.

Oh well, that's progress and Maggie likes to keep abreast of all new methods of entertaining her slaves. Speaking of which, Maggie did stand very close and began stroking my pinioned cock, baring those wonderful breasts to taunt me with their beauty. That really was torture. How do you normally react when such a wonderful vista is presented? I am a hot blooded male and I would normally start to get an erection. Erection with what and where was it going? So I tried my hardest to look, admire and stay comfortable within the staples.

As we were coming to a close Maggie asked if I wanted to remove the staples myself. Imagine, making my way home wearing my nice tight pair of latex briefs covering what used to be my manhood. That thought is so exciting yet so disconcerting. Would it hurt once the aroma had worn off? What would happen when I received the photos with the staples still in situ? How do I pee? Would I be able to walk and drive home because I didn't fancy having to remove the staple half way home! I opted for the cowards way out and asked Mistress to remove them. At the time, that was a good move with no pain or discomfort, but I am seriously contemplating a different decision next time Mistress Maggie staples up her cock and balls. Next time. . . .

A Black Tape Day

I had been dying to show Mistress Maggie my new plum coloured latex catsuit, so I asked if on this occasion it was acceptable to arrive with my catsuit on. Imagine my surprise when she agreed, but not without throwing in a curved ball. ‘Yes that’s fine. Permission granted. Actually, a blindfold might look good with it, if you have one’. Maggie wanted me to arrive at The Chambers wearing a blindfold; I could see several problems with that instruction! Where would I get a blindfold within 20 minutes of leaving home? How would I drive or even walk to the Chambers in a blindfold? It certainly would attract unwanted attention from the locals. Then I had a light bulb moment. Finding an old pair of glasses I set to work with my trusty black electricians tape and scissors, and in no time I had a very effective blindfold that looked just like a pair of sunglasses. I couldn't see anything in front and had only limited vision around the edges of the frame.

Perfect. I would wait until I could see the inner door being opened and then quickly don my blacked out glasses. I felt a bit daft and I felt a bit nervous, but only until I heard that delightful giggle from Mistress and the laughter as she said, ‘come in slave’. My peripheral vision touched on a pair of golden boots and just a hint of a gold latex covered leg.

Still largely blind, I took off my coat and shoes and stood to attention awaiting my instruction. Mistress, with a smile in her voice relented, suggesting it might be safer to go upstairs without the taped up glasses. As I removed my blindfold and put it in my pocket, I had no idea that my black electricians tape was just a pre-curser to bigger things ahead, and that I’d be challenged by a lot more black tape before the day was out. Oh boy was I pleased to have my sight restored, as there in front of me stood Mistress, an absolute vision in striking gold, shortly followed by the sight of those shining golden bum cheeks ascending the stairs, which has to rank as the eighth wonder of the world.

My first duty of the day was to display my devotion with boot worship. In contrast to the smooth feeling latex that covered the rest of my Mistress, her boots were a rough textured material and I could not do my usual long licks. I wondered if Mistress knew how rough and scaly her boots were, obviously the answer to that was yes and as usual Mistress had thought of everything. ’Stick out your tongue and place it on the point of my boot slave’ and she proceeded to drag my tethered head up the length of her golden boots, again . . . again . . . and again . . . and again . . .   Cleaning those scaly lizard like boots was more like licking sandpaper, my tongue was left feeling quite sensitive after so many energetic passes up the boots. Still, I did have the lovely smell of the gold and plum latex to keep me going, I am totally useless with colour matching but I do think the plum and gold look well together, a colourful change to strict black latex as well.

Mistress likes to dress her slaves, however on this occasion I was instructed to keep my catsuit on and Mistress told me to catwalk around her Playroom so that I could show her the full potential of her tightly clad rubber plum toy. The time saved by being pre-dressed dovetailed nicely with a very tight schedule that Mistress had planned. As soon as I had pulled on my black socks and gloves I was ready to assist my Mistress and she required that her cat-suited figure be polished to a high shine. A delightful task enthusiastically undertaken with the help of Mr Sheen and a lot of gentle rubbing. In return, I was greased up and plugged up the ass with a trusty rubber butt plug.

Enough of this enjoyment, time was passing and we had to return to Maggie's plan. My wrists were tied and I was roped to the wooden chair; that simple yet so effective bondage that has held me captive on more than one occasion. Layers of wide plastic wrap were wound loosely around my head, making it fully encapsulated yet still able to breathe, for now. A specially shaped plastic cape was added and left draping over my shoulders while Maggie disappeared to retrieve a third item. The rope binding may have been simple, but I was soon to discover how incredibly effective it was when Mistress tightly wound her thin plastic wrap twice around my head, nose and mouth.

I have never felt so under Mistresses influence and ownership as in those few brief moments before a suitable breathing hole was formed in my tight wrapping. There was nothing I could do. The ropes held very firm and as I struggled all I could see was the hazy vision of my golden goddess in her 'Heart of Gold' catsuit; Maggie's description not mine, but a name which accurately reflects my Owner.

Now to the business end of why all the careful plastic wrapping. I was to receive a full body mummification complete with a black gaffer tape topping. Ah, that was the reason for the plastic shoulder guard; to protect my latex suit from the sticky tape. Starting with my chin and winding downwards, all of the cape was being covered and I was slowly being turned into something resembling a Rodin sculpture.

After that Maggie used the same method to tape up my feet and my legs as high as my knees; clingfilm first then the duct tape winding. We have experienced session shortening cramps on a previous tape mummification when I couldn't move my feet, but todays wrapping was a very different and comfortable type of bondage. Maggie asked me if it was too tight as she was taping and there were no complaints from her slave. With this change to my feet wrap I had the feeling this could be a very long incarceration indeed.

The Plank was now being assembled. Unfortunately, due to me being partially immobilised I had to be parked to one side and act as a bystander while Maggie did all the hard work, I could then bunny hop across to the Plank and lie down, or so I thought. Maggie said the thundering sound of my bunny hops on her floorboards might concern her husband, so we reverted to a sedate slave shuffle instead. As it happens the slave shuffle turned out to be a bonus for me, as I managed to sneak my arms round Mistress on the pretext that I was unstable with my feet bound up, once more getting my hands on her polished gold, which felt even more gorgeous through my latex gloves.

My mummy moment had finally arrived and I sat down on the centre of the bondage plank. ’Down onto the plank . . . Move down a bit . . . bit more’, until Maggie was finally satisfied her charge was in my final resting place and a soft pillow placed beneath my head. It took a while for Mistress to totally mummify her toy, occasionally needing to stretch across me to retrieve her roll of tape from the other side of the plank. I may have been totally immobile but I could still feel the warmth of her beautiful body through the layers of tape, layers of cling-film and layers of latex. For once I was pleased with my girth, as it meant Mistress had further to stretch to get her black gaffer back.

A few magic moments captured on video - WITH SOUND

Meticulous as ever, Maggie made sure every inch was covered and every bit neat and smooth until finally, I was happy just to catch glimpses of my golden goddess as she floated in and out of vision. Vision was the last to go as Maggie gently applied the final tape bindings across my eyes. I lay there approaching that serene state where I was at one with the Plank, at one with the world and happy in the knowledge that my Mistress cared enough for her slave to leave me in this position. And there I stayed for a substantial time.

I may not have been able to see my Mistress, but I could see her in my minds eye. Every now and then, I would fantasise about Mistress doing this and that and odd things to me with her toys and equipment. Totally safe inside my shroud yet totally vulnerable to whatever Mistress wished to do. She had already promised a few incisions and checks to make sure I was still working OK. All I could do was grind my hips in a totally unsatisfying, circular dance, dream of my Mistress and think of my oath to do anything Mistress wanted, immediately and without question.

I have travelled a long way along my road to understanding why I have become so devoted to and dependant on my Mistress and this session certainly provided me with more startling, amazing yet in a way disturbing enlightenment.

Mistress took her scissors and began chopping at my layers and peeling back the outer surface until all my sensitive areas were exposed. Something began happening with my once dangly bits; Mistress was emasculating my cock and balls by stapling them neatly out of harms way, which set off a spontaneous slow, prolonged release of sexual tension. I had no way of preventing the orgasm even if I wanted to, all I know is that I couldn’t help it, and it is not the first time I have reacted this way to her staples and I have been asking myself why.

Perhaps it was the way everything was compressed behind my stapled smooth abdomen, or that my manhood had been made totally useless and ineffective by their owner. Whatever the reason, I know each time I think about this issue, it really excites, thrills and amazes me how far along this road of true ownership we have come.

Mistress did suggest I could take the staples out at home if I wished. An exciting proposition, but I was not yet ready for that major step forward. Not because of potential discovery as I knew I could manage to keep our secret. No, it was the prospect of not being able to get the staples out of my balls; what would it feel like with Mistresses property safely stapled behind what must be the most effective chastity device known to a slave; how would it feel moving 'normally' with my Mistresses jewels ineffective; the feeling of my tight latex pants no longer having a rampant cock and swinging balls to fill them out but a smooth stapled area to casually stroke; the simple requirement of going to the loo; knowing just how much under the power of this magnificent lady I had become and what would it feel like, as frequently happens when I think of this incredibly sexy and sultry Mistress.

These are the reasons why I was reluctant to remove my staples at home. At this time, it was just too mind blowing to contemplate. For the moment I must concentrate hard on preventing future inevitable orgasms.

In any event, Mistress had far more stimulation to keep me entertained until the end of our session. The nipple zips in the new plum suit proved to be in exactly the right place for a pair of little nipple suckers. Maggie explained how she would use them to draw out my nipples into a more accessible size as they had become lazy and introverted. Further stimulations for an already well stimulated slave were provided in the form of eight electrodes. Yes, that is EIGHT electrodes, attached to the tens unit, which were evenly deployed across my lower body where Maggie's cock and balls once stood proud. When deployed in this configuration a previously unexplored range of stimulation was released, creating a  flowing, rippling sensation over a wide area. An unusual and exciting feeling and yet another new and amazing experience.

Apart from a growing pain in the butt plug, I could have remained in the dark, attached to the plank and totally happy to be my Mistresses property, but time marches on and the experience had to end some time. Reluctantly, for me anyway, Maggie decreed that I should be cut free from my amazing home. Mistress removed the staples and I must admit, (another of those might regret comments), I was a little disappointed at the freedom but elated by another step along my path of becoming a better slave to Mistress Maggie.

Staple Diet

I am absolutely knackered after my most recent training session with Mistress Maggie, or as she commanded for the duration, 'Queen Maggie'. I loved every minute of the session - well, apart from a few seconds when QM removed one of the staples used for safeguarding her crown jewels on their ritual journey to the afterlife.

The scenario was laid out in Maggie’s normal inimitable oblique style in the calling mail . . .Your Mistress will be adorned in an airy costume fit for a Queen. She will be packing you up and taking you on a ritualistic journey to a previously undiscovered world, your Queen knows how important it is to keep her personal possessions well secured whilst travelling there and will play an instrumental part in making sure all parts are well protected. . .

Oh boy, was Maggie's costume very airy and certainly fit for a Queen; the skimpiest of bras, the sheerest of expensive nylons, briefs so small as to be non-existent, all in sexy black and all topped off with that most radiant of smiles as my Queen greeted me into her Queendom.

Our journey to the Playroom was certainly some right royal entrance. Following my Queen up the stairs gave me the most delightful view of her magnificent derrière, her cheeks smiling back at her slave with every undulation. I now know why certain parts of a staircase are called risers! My hands were trembling and I really had to force myself not to lean forward and plant a gentle kiss on each perfectly formed orb. I had made the tactical mistake of arriving in my latex clothes; the black calf-length stockings, tee shirt and shorts that I know Maggie likes. With the weather being unusually warm on this autumn afternoon, I was already feeling a little moist when I reached the Palace door, and the breathtaking royal procession to the Playroom did absolutely nothing to help with my rising temperature.

Changing was fortunately very quick; off with my outdoor clothes, on with my latex gloves and hurry back to give homage to my Queen. But before any worshipping I had to kneel before the throne and receive my knight-hood, well black latex hood actually, but with a little poetic licence and dreaming allowed, I momentarily became a knight in black shining armour to her Majesty.

My Queen then confused the hell out of her subject by commanding that I remove her shoes. Now to this slave that was a real quandary, as in all my previous five years of training I have learnt to worship her footwear, and strictly only her footwear. Without any shoes, how could I show my adoration for my Queen? The next command from QM had my quandary resolved in an instant. ‘You must worship my stocking feet today slave’. Oh what a command. I licked and sucked and kissed my Lieges feet, leading to additional privileges as she unclipped her suspenders, allowing her expensive stockings to slip down her legs and over her beautiful toes, instructing her slave to continue my actions on her bare feet.

Once I had proved my loyalty with much foot worship, Queen Maggie began sliding her legs back into her luxurious stockings and asked me to help reattach her suspenders. This slave still has plenty to learn, especially when it comes to dressing the monarchy.

Being most unfamiliar with suspenders, I couldn't get to grips with fastening clips and lining up seams, especially whilst wearing my trusty old zippered latex gloves, and finally had to request permission to remove them. The zip having been used on so many occasions with my Mistress became stuck, and in my haste to tug them off I split a finger. There was no other option, the gloves were consigned to history into the Playroom bin. Luckily I had an alternative pair, as I couldn’t present myself to my Queen in an untidy, underdressed fashion. And I did manage to fasten four suspenders.

The disruption was only temporary and I soon had a dildo strapped to my chest and was secured spread-eagled to the bed for her majesty’s pleasure. What a delicious sight. I could see that superb naked back inches from my face as she rode my chest. When satisfied, Mistress donned her skimpy black panties and proceeded with more royal Queening duties on her slaves rubber face. After which, I of course cleaned up her toys and just smiled.

My Queen likes to grant her subjects their wishes. This one had rather stupidly suggested that he didn’t receive sufficient attention the last time Mistress mounted her slave, when she had kindly been introducing me to a larger strap on for the first time. Not on this occasion, once the right entry angle had been established my Queen gave her loyal subject a right royal seeing to, making sure I could watch the action in the mirror, whilst I knelt in homage on the low punishment throne. For a good long time I was able to relax and enjoy the full length and girth of my Queens dildo, in fact at one point, Maggie lifted her feet off the floor and was flying like wonderwoman whilst still impaling her slave. I wiggled, Maggie giggled and we both had a good laugh.

Naturally, after being well rammed with the larger dildo my butt plug slipped in easier than a corgi down a rat-hole. Mistress will probably be getting me a new bigger plug, although I was a little alarmed when my Queen idly mentioned that her wrist was about the same size as the strap-on dildo. Ahh, does that mean my arsehole may soon be receiving a Royal wave?!!

Back to my Royal Audience; I had been sweating heavily, quite natural when you think what had just happened and Maggie needed me perfectly dry for the next part of my journey. A good towelling first, then a little variety performance by way of dancing around naked in front of the Playroom fan, much to my Queen’s amusement, and I was dry.

I followed my Queen into the White room where a white rubber ceremonial garment was laid out across the couch. My Queen explained how I was to be prepared for passing to the afterlife and I was only allowed one belonging, which was now securely anchored up my bum. I eased into the sleepsack from the side of the bench and received the matching white hood that I had so eulogised about in previous sessions. The hood was zipped tight, the suit zip was drawn, the straps were tightened and I thought, if now is that time for my Queen to send me on my journey across the Styx, I will make the journey happily knowing I am serving my Mistress and my Queen.

A feeling of euphoria and inner peace crept over me, helped by the incense that my Queen encouraged me to inhale, or of course, it could just be that I have promised to my Queen that I will willingly do whatever she wishes, immediately and without hesitation. Actually I would have struggled to even flinch being so seriously immobilised in the thick rubber encasement, even my arms were cleverly secured with internal sleeves inside the bag. Either way I felt totally relaxed with my bondage situation.

Queen Maggie whispered to me, reminding me that my personal object was safely stored inside my back passage ready for the journey. I was instructed that I would also be carrying my Queens possessions with me on my travels and that the time had arrived to perform the ritualistic wrapping of her belongings in readiness for the journey, and I knew she meant her crown jewels.

Some unease crept in as I felt the double zip that had been parked around my toes being eased upwards. A little separation to allow access and I could feel the cooler air surround Mistresses cock and balls as she lifted them to the outside of the bodybag.

Mistress advised me that for ritual safe keeping, the Queens possessions (her cock and balls), must be concealed inside a pouch made of animal skin, and as the only animal skin around was my own, then she would create a pouch using my scrotum.

To begin, a massage was completed using cocoa butter; my Queens hands and finger nails pulling and tugging the skin around her property until the cream had sufficiently softened the area, making it more pliable. My scrotum was then stretched over my cock and balls and joined at centre with clamps.

I thought I was to be stitched up as in a previous operation. Well yes and no - this time my Queen was keen to try out a medical skin stapler. The first two staples were practice ones and discarded, but after that around ten staples were deployed in a row, each one becoming easier to apply as she gained in confidence.

By the time the last three metal sutures were punched in, my Queen was delighted with the results of her newly honed skills, and through the perforations of my latex hood I could see that wonderful smile associated with a job well done.

From my perspective and probably helped by use of the aromas, I felt very little discomfort and certainly much less than the manual stitching I had received twelve months earlier. I couldn't help myself, and although impossible to get any form of erection, I embarrassed myself with an orgasm.

I could feel my liquid creating what I thought was a considerable mess as it squeezed its way out of QM’s finely stitched animal skin pouch. My Queen was surprised and amused by my eruption and quickly recorded the event for posterity.

A little electro-play never hurt anyone, or so my Queen stated, and may even add some excitement to my journey into the afterlife. A tubular electrode was pushed inside, down behind the staples where her cock used to be. To complement and complete the circuit QM put on her electric glove. Believe me when I say that slaves, electrodes, gloves and particularly the metal stitches definitely hurt when joined together, I would have jumped out of my skin if my Queen hadn’t stapled it so tightly together. A power reduction down to 8-10 on the frying scale was definitely called for and even then I was sweating profusely.

With all that liquid loss, my Monarch, ever thoughtful for her subjects, placed a sipping tube between my lips and produced a nice fresh pot of nectar to sustain her subject during the remaining part of my journey. At this point Mistress asked on a scale of one to ten, where ten was excruciating and one being relaxed, how I was feeling being snuggled up in my embalmed state, cock and balls well and truly secured and cooked. I have to admit, despite the staples and the electric treatment and the butt plug etc that I responded with a one to two rating. I could quite happily have drifted off to oblivion or at least a nice sleep.

To complete this account of my transitional journey, I should warn you that at times my discomfort level hit ten when the stitches were being removed. Unlike normal sutures where that is the less testing part of the operation, using the supplied sterile staple remover hurt like hell; my Queen declared that it should not hurt that much, but there were no instructions in the stapler pack and she would need to fathom out the correct technique.

I took really deep breaths and exhaled as each staple was removed, and at my request my Queen agreed to drop the retrieved staples directly into the stainless steel bowl. A small point, but the soft tinkle of steel on steel reassured me that the pain had been worth the effort and another staple had been removed. Mistress did suggest that she’d leave the staples in situ if it was too painful: I endured the level 10 pain, although the thought of being left in that stitched up state was strangely thrilling. Talking afterwards, I suggested that a double dose of aroma would have been most beneficial to me at that stage!

There was so much to report on during another successful trip with my Queen at the helm. I believe that Queen Maggie was pleased with her mechanical suturing instrument and yet again I was delighted to be my Queens guinea pig. I enjoyed the concept of Maggie as a Queen, but to me she will always be my Mistress Maggie.