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. . . .

Over the Hills and Far Away

Not a lot of people will have heard of the small Yorkshire settlement of Liversedge. I am from Yorkshire, yet knew nothing of the town and certainly not its valuable role in latex manufacturing. Mentioned in the Domesday book, by the 19th century the town was busy in the manufacture of woollen garments and the long tradition of clothing manufacture still continues in the 21st century, albeit in a much smaller scale, at Cathouse Clothing on a local business park in the town. That is where Mistress Maggie wanted to go, to look at some rather nice leopard print and textured latex garments that she had seen on the website.

I had been summoned to chauffeur Mistress to Liversedge, my first duty was to drop my pants and bend over the playroom horse so a Kegel electric communication device could be installed in my asshole, its associated receiver strapped on a leather belt around my waist. And with a big grin Maggie announced that the batteries had a full charge and that is what I would be receiving. Naturally, Mistress retained the remote control and gradually increased the dial until I confirmed the signal was being received and my bum starting to tingle from the inside. Maggie noted level ten and announced that would be a good level to start, if and when she wanted a little amusement at my expense.

As a Tyke, the journey back over the Pennines was short and sweet at just over an hour and 10 minutes, the time flew by with idle chatter between Mistress and slave and adhering to the strict instructions from Maggie's husband that I drive very carefully. After all, I did have a VIM on board (Very Important Mistress). Fortunately, the only sensation from the Kegel's was the top weighted ball that made its presence felt at every bend and pothole. I do wish they would fill those damn potholes on the M62.

Maggie was acquainted with the owner at Cathouse and spent a little time on pleasantries. I just stood and rode with the Kegel balls that Mistress had kindly activated by remote control when entering the shop. But it was soon down to the serious business of browsing. You can imagine we were both in heaven with the range of latex textures and coloured samples waiting to be made into hundreds of sensational garments. We spotted a latex corset that suited Maggie down to the ground (well not quite that long). A quick flick of the remote button and her slave was jumping high enough to reach it off the highest rail, and the garment was quickly purchased. After further browsing and a chance conversation with the owner, a textured black latex skirt emerged. I could tell Maggie liked it, and I thought it absolutely amazing or maybe it was how Maggie sensationally showed it off as she tried it on. It was a no brainer; a beautiful garment on a beautiful Mistress that fitted her so well.

The second purchase was in the bag, and that unfortunately was that. We had spent just an hour shopping and it was time for the trip home to Lancashire, but a coffee stop was necessary before too long.

Nothing interesting about a coffee stop you say. Well no and yes. Maggie had been persuaded to wear the new latex skirt for her journey home, she looked so glamorous seated on the high stool waiting for her coffee to be delivered. It was difficult to take my eyes off her, but then it always is. The skirt was the icing on the cake or rather on her now tightly enclosed legs and thighs.

Then a little surprise. As we got back in the car, Maggie pointed me to a secluded spot in the corner of the car park and told me to park there. She told me how happy she was with my driving and the lovely gift I had bought for her, and had a little reward that she knew I would like.

A hanky was produced from her handbag, before I knew it I was subdued with aroma and captured in a plastic bag. Slowly and calmly she started to suffocate her slave. My pleas for air fell on stony ground, Maggie just said no and twisted the plastic a bit more.

I just gazed at Maggie through the misting plastic and felt totally relaxed, completely devoted and very happy at that moment. Maggie wanted this and so did I. By the time she’d finished the plastic was as tight against my face as Mistresses new latex skirt was across her thighs.

After a few minutes to catch my breath chauffeuring duties were resumed. The rest of the journey was uneventful but incredibly slow due to it being rush hour. We arrived back at Chambers just after six, Maggie had a Clinic session planned for me and I was soon strapped down naked, legs up wide on the clinic couch. The nice white latex hood was fitted and she proceeded to flash fry my nipples, cock, balls and anywhere else that made her laugh with the glowing sparks from her violet wand.

The Kegel balls were removed and, judging by this photo, Maggie used a cut down Samurai sword to impale my bum. This has got to be the biggest thing I have ever had up there, helped on its way by Mistress holding her medicated hanky over my nose again.

Imagine the opposing sensations; I was being wonderfully mounted and stretched with a hand held dildo, whilst at the same time having bits of me punished with intense shocks from the wand. I didn't know whether I was coming or going.

The afternoon had reached a natural end and Maggie made sure I didn't come, but I did go home with another huge smile and a huge bulge after another hugely enjoyable session chauffeuring my Mistress on our expedition home to Yorkshire.

And a note to John. I drove very carefully and apologise if Mistress Maggie now has two more exceptional items to find space for in her ‘overcrowded’ latex wardrobe. The batteries in the Kegel are now flat and in serious need of a major re-charge!

Pain and the Edge

There are many types of pain that a slave is subjected to by their Mistress and Mistress Maggie is adept at deploying most of them. There is the sharp pain of the crop, the sharp stinging rays of the violet wand, the rhythmic pulsations of her e-stim, and many more. Maggie deployed all of the above on this slave today but none that was quite so insidious as the pain that creeps up on you then takes your breath away. Mistress was in a particularly cruel mood and my balls were going to take the brunt of her ingenuity and sadistic artistry.

Two pairs of chopsticks were displayed in my limited field of view and I assumed my nipples were in for treatment, but oh no. As Maggie disappeared I felt my previously cocoa buttered balls once more being massaged and separated and a pair of chop-sticks being clamped round my right ball, rubber bands were then wrapped round several times, tightening their grip on my ball. After a couple of really hefty tugs and a little more rubber-band tightening, Mistress was satisfied the testicle was firmly gripped and could not escape and then gave the left ball the same treatment.

I managed to absorb what I thought was a little pain as Maggie seemed delighted with her work. Next came four lengths of paracord, that according to the picture (I couldn't see Maggie's handy work) were secured with clips to the chopsticks, fed underneath the gynae chair and joined at centre front ready for stretching.

All the while I could feel the pain building as Maggie lent between my legs and applied her considerable strength to tighten the ropes, stretching my balls east and west and then joining the whole to my slave collar. A dull ache was developing but it still felt manageable and anyway Mistress had put in a lot of thought and hard work into creating her perfect chop-stick dish.

It was the addition of the oft-used ball gag that broke my resolve, I was to raise my head while Maggie buckled it on which in turn pulled on my tethers and my balls twitched in sympathy with every move, an invasive pain began creeping up through my balls and I knew I had crossed the ‘edge’. Maggie decided that was enough ball stretching torture for one day and quickly had them removed; the chopsticks not my bollocks! My balls were returned to their usual position and recovery was almost instantaneous. 

Lunchtime arrived in the torture clinic. Maggie, now overdue her dinner break, stuck the ball gag back in and sat between my pinioned legs and munched on her cracker, cheese and cucumber lunch. I just marvelled at being owned by a perfect Mistress but was disappointed that my lack of staying power had forced the unnecessary delay to her lunch.

Refreshed, relaxed and ready for more nursing, Maggie removed my butt plug and replaced it with the long set of anal beads; they go a long way up your bum. My balls were then tied up like Chinese dough balls and she produced a small white box that contained half a dozen suction electrodes. Maggie demonstrated their use and applied quite a lot of electro gel to my scrotum, then proceeded to fix three of them in a triangular formation. That was three electrodes and I was left in no doubt where the fourth one would go, as Mistress snipped off the corner from a sachet of lube, dipped in her urethral electro probe, made a few suggestive gestures and quickly and easily inserted it all the way up my cock.

By now, I was much more relaxed after the chopsticks and back to being totally focused on pleasing Maggie. The e-stim was set to program 3 and the level varied between 5 and 11. A totally different feeling in my balls now and relatively easy compared to the Chinese chopstick torture, and I was alert enough to catch Maggie saying in her sweetest tones that I would be fed later, when she’d finished her playtime and I’d had my treatment.

As always, you are just getting used to one aspect of Maggie's playtime when, just at that time when you think you are OK, playtime changes again. On went a gas mask with attached re-breather and I just caught a glimpse of Mistress setting up her violet wand before the bug blindfolds were placed across the lenses and I was blind.

Maggie laughed, but it wasn't until I saw this image that I realised what Maggie found so amusing. Is it an optical illusion or has Mistress developed a new and special medical treatment for her slave? After all she has already sewn my cock and balls into a homogeneous blob, but this image seems to suggest I now have three testicles. I can see that having three to play with might amuse my Mistress! 

I felt some liquid being splashed all over my front. Ah a refreshing shower I thought until I was told it was special liquid to help the glass electrodes glide and me appreciate the wand. First the pointed bit to deliver a very sharp, isolated burst, then the comb which develops a wider but slightly diffused shock and then finished with the pointed shaped electrode again. (Maggie obviously told me which fitting I was ’enjoying' as I was totally blind).

Mistress is an expert at this, carefully measuring the distance between electrode and skin so that just the right amount of excitement is created. Of course as a slave you only ever get imperceptible clues as to where the next jolt may be delivered. You might just sense the faintest of tingles in the vicinity as Maggie lines up to pounce. 

Although shocking, the pain associated with this is short, sharp and immediate and after a couple of deep breaths, you are ready, if ready is the right word, for the next shocking experience. But for the restraining straps, Maggie would have had me dancing a merry dance, but as it was I did only manage a few large twitches.

I had done my best for my Mistress, even though it may only have been mediocre but Maggie thought I had earned a good shower and a drink to finish off an exhausting session. Maggie had that really disarming and enchanting smile as she had been sipping her drinks throughout the session, now with the slightest smile and twinkle in her eyes, she didn't need to say where my drink and shower were coming from.

The large plastic sheet was spread out on the playroom floor, and as I lay in the centre Mistress showered me all over: chest, cock and balls and of course head and shoulders. Then standing above my mouth Mistress declared it my feeding time and instructed me to catch my drink, which I eagerly did. It sure is one helluva a good way to finish off a taxing session.

Urtica Dioica - Nettled Nuts

Mistress Maggie likes to win. The games that she plays with her slaves tend to be weighted in her favour and today's session was no different.

It all started rather pleasantly with Maggie doing a spot of face sitting in her leather leggings whilst informing me of the exciting challenge she had planned for her slave today. I love Maggie's rear at such close quarters, you get to experience the privilege of another beautiful method of slave suffocation.

I am not sure how the topic ever came up but I had, rather naively mentioned in a previous session that I thought nettles were good for a garden, attracting a wide array of insects.

Maggie is very astute, incredibly perceptive and a very good listener. Nothing escapes her sharp hearing, incidentally if you are given the opportunity, Maggie has really attractive and wonderfully sensitive ears and lobes and a little lick may get a slave several brownie points. Alternatively it may get you a good hiding . . . I digress again.

Maggie had picked up that I was anything but a green fingered entomologist, nonetheless I would be assisting her with some gardening by attracting some insects into her nettle patch (hence the title Urtica dioica). An amusing little game, for Maggie at least, involving more strenuous participation from her slave. On went the straight-jacket and tight hood, and I was ordered on to the rubber bed to have a leather strap and ring tightened round my balls.

Maggie attached an insect using a rather severe clamp right on the end of my cock. To win the game I had to land four different winged insects in the pot of nettles conveniently situated in the far corner of the Playroom, I also had to identify each of the insects. Sounds easy apart from the likely stinging of cock and balls if I misjudged the flight path. Yep, too easy for Maggie, sitting gracefully on her throne thumbing through her copy of the ‘Observers Book of British Insects’. A piece of bungee cord was hooked on to my balls, that required stretching if I were to land the insects successfully. OK, a little more difficult for slave now!

At this point I thought that Maggie had gone OTT but I was determined to do my best just to show how well Maggie had trained me. I was to lunge into the nettle pot and land the bug, return to Maggie and identify the pesky critter.

Stretching the bungee was very distracting and I am sure that is why I struggled. Imagine, getting close with a smile on your face, knowing exactly where you wanted your landing gear to go then having to stretch bungeed balls. It was like trying to land a plane in a severe side wind. Cock and balls all over the place and inevitable you end up in the middle of the nettles and not where you were aiming. I think the insect featured here is the lesser spotted, silver back butterfly from Maggie's own collection.

Once identified, Mistress would kindly zap the bug with her electric tennis racket, then the same again . . .  Hmmm! - I started with a butterfly and when I finished with a bee, I had completed the tasks and thought I had won. I probably technically did but when I look back, I had my cock clamped, balls stretched, both nettled and lower regions electrically zapped on several occasions whilst Mistress was able to sit back laugh a lot at my antics and enjoy my efforts.


As I said, Maggie likes to win and I think in the cold light of day as I lay trussed on the carpet afterwards getting over stinging my cock and balls, that Maggie definitely won that one. The leather straight-jacket is a wonderfully comfortable yet totally secure creation that Maggie designed and made of the finest leather. The pale tan straps contrast nicely with the black leather and exposed skin. This is definitely another Maggie experience not to miss. The red cock and balls are my own creation, with a little stimulation from a mischievous Mistress and Urtica dioica.

For those of you who may get the opportunity to experience having your cock and balls nettled, the main barrier to enjoying the experience is that childhood fear. We were all stung as children and know they hurt like hell. In reality, in the midst of a good session, the nettles do sting but not excessively. You have other sensations to worry about and, unless you really are allergic to nettle stings, I found I had little problem with the minor discomfort. As you would expect Maggie had checked that beforehand without alerting me to the fact that cock and balls were about to be nettled. Anyway, I had more important issues to keep me occupied, isolated in my leather dreamworld, giving Mistress the right amount of privacy while she changed into her rubber nurse outfit ready for the next part of the session.


Into the clinic to check that my man-flu had cleared up, and not satisfied that I was bug free rubber nurse decided that a spot of aroma therapy would be necessary, delivered through one of her specially adapted gas-masks. The bright sparks of her violet wand were put to work on my nettled parts killing off the last vestiges of any bugs remaining from the Playroom, and there was I thinking that all bugs had already been removed after my nettling!

By the time I was returned to the playroom, I was declared fully fit and no nettle rash whatsoever. Mistress did allow me to lick clean her latex pants as I had been a good slave during my training. I must say, Maggie was magnanimous in defeat allowing such a privilege, as technically I did win the ball stretching games and it was one hell of a valuable prize for a slave to be granted!