SINS for a Slave

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

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

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

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

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

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

For reference, my slave vow to my Mistress is:

I promise that I will do my best:

To love my Mistress,

To serve my Mistress,

To help others to join my Mistress in slavery,

To keep the Mistresses Law.

and

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

I always try to be faithful to this promise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SINS - Self Inflicted Nipple Stretching.

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

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

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

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

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

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.