Expert Edger

One of the many things I have learned from Mistress Maggie is always to be honest about any physical or attitude issues and today, as usual, I was totally honest about the routine operation that I would be having very shortly and the fact that my guiche had come detached. I’d spotted a little red end stop on the floor at home and despite my fiddling I couldn’t fix it back in place. The safest thing was to take my guiche piercing out of its home and ask Mistress if she could reattach it for me.

As it turns out, it was somewhat of a relief that it was too big a piercing for Maggie to get back in, because I think the surgeon may have found it highly amusing for it to be winking back at him as he was mending my cock end. Mistress suggested approaching a piercing expert to have it refitted and I will look into that after I restart training. I appreciate I have strayed a little from my normal format, but thought you may be wondering why the guiche was no longer visible and why it is so long between my lessons. 

Back to heaven; I had already been alerted via the call up mail that I needed to be all in red latex and that I was going to become, once more, at one with The Plank. It is a wonderful experience to be totally immobilised in plastic but sometimes I do feel a bit of a fraud, because I get to be comfortably incarcerated, well most of the time, whilst Mistress has to do all the hard work wrapping her dummy mummy.

When I arrived, Mistress was, as always, incredibly stunning although today she was not completely covered in latex. She was wearing patent ankle boots with tan tights all the way up those gorgeous legs to her lace up leotard and corset, topped off with an open face latex hood and blond ponytail. As she ascended the stairs, I couldn’t help admiring those nylon covered legs, although perhaps a little disappointed that I was only going to be able to work on the short boots with my worship, but I needn’t have worried!

I was trembling when Mistress said, “As I’m wearing my short boots today, for once you’d better worship my nylon covered legs, but ONLY the nylon!" As I worked my way up past the calves and knees to the most glorious pair of thighs that anyone could wish for, I got close enough to sniff the latex leotard but daren’t go further, my training kicked in and I stopped well before I got into trouble. As I said I was trembling at being granted that privilege because I would normally only reach knee level and can only dream of going further. All the while there was a constant but gentle tattooing across anywhere that Maggie could reach with her leather whip (made by Tony I was informed?). It makes a fantastic thwacking sound, yet at the same time the sensation is akin to the gentlest of caresses wherever leather met flesh.

I had my own butt plug inserted while leaning against the wall, no aggro, no discomfort, just the familiar ‘plop’ as the final rib passed my sphincter, in like a hot knife through butter. At this point it is useful to mention that the securing shaft between the final rib and the circular end piece is over an inch, and it stays in place perfectly. I will return to the relevance later.

We took a quick trip to The Clinic to attempt to refit the guiche, to no avail, this led to Mistress suggesting I’d be best taking a visit to a piercing parlour, but that will be for a little later when I have recovered from surgery. When we returned to The Playroom I managed to hop into my red latex catsuit with ease as it’s a lighter gauge than my black Invincible one.

Now almost fully rubberised I was instructed to kneel on the low padded bench, to have an alternative, larger butt plug installed. This was one of a few that Maggie had obtained a while ago when she’d hoped to increase my bums’ plugging capacity. This time I was more able to accommodate its full length, leaving my ass jam packed with black rubber. It did appear to want to expel itself but that was fixed by closing the crotch zip. This is where the length of shaft between last rib and base was relevant. When I was cleaning the plug after the session I noticed that the neck was probably only a half inch, which probably explains why my sphincter couldn’t get a firm grip. I learn something about my body each time I am serving Mistress.

It looked promising that I’d be sniffing aromas delivered by John’s rather superbly engineered cannula pump system today, because the nasal cannula was being positioned in my nostrils ready to be hidden under a red latex hood. And there I was with only my eyes and mouth still naked, once more Mistresses rubber toy.

I helped Mistress to assemble the legs of the bondage plank before taking up a lying position along it, remembering NOT to sit in the middle. I settled back and Mistress very kindly provided padding at neck and ankles for support. I did say that I’d have the easy part of this session, because I am familiar with the amount of bending and stretching needed to have a slave clingfilmed to her plank. Mistress would be in for more than a little discomfort as she wound the film round and round, tightly stretching the clinfilmg as she progressed until I became securely attached to the plank. I realise that I am a VERY fortunate to have a Mistress who thinks nothing of suffering such considerable discomfort in behalf of her slave.

Later, when fully mummified, a little judicious excavation had my cock and balls free for more ‘fun’ activities. I must say I hadn’t expected flat balls, but that’s what I got due to a crushing board. Not content with just flat balls, I’d felt Maggie sticking four electrodes at strategic points around her area of interest. Once attached I could sense the crushing board being tightened, I know Mistress likes to have matching things, but making may balls as flat as her plank was definitely a wicked way of achieving it! Oh, the happy life of a slave who will do anything for his Mistress.

I learned that my electric therapy was going to be a bit different too, as John had suggested that Maggie use his Erostek stimming unit to use on my genitals during my session. It was wired up in no time and sending a host of new sensations my way, definitely a different experience and more intense than other units I have been able to try, with a greater range of settings to keep a slave alert and stimulated! I have since had the opportunity to thank John for allowing me that privilege.

Mistress produced that wonderful, elasticated, plastic inflatable hood and once I had grasped the mouth tube firmly between my teeth, the hood could be eased over my head. Maggie’s breaths were music to my ears as she gently inflated the hood and so I was properly sealed in plastic. The manufacture of Mistress’s plastic toy was now complete, and unique by being made in Preston rather than Hong Kong. The only exposed part was my cock, as obviously my electrified crushed balls were already being sandwiched between two layers of plastic. My predicament felt even better as I began detecting the smell, sound and effects of some aroma therapy.

I was occasionally being treated to some breathplay moments. Maggie would place a finger over my mouth tube or seal her lips around it and feed me with a lungful of her precious air.

The pumped aromas were probably just as well, because with the arrival of the divine aromatic breeze came the ramping up of the Erostek and the vibrating sensations of the Hitachi wand. This is what prompted the blog title. Mistress knows my body and senses very well, knowing when I am getting too excited and my frequent urges to cum, Mistress maintains the levels of all the stimulation just below that threshold where an explosion occurs. A true expert edger!

After 261 sessions I am still learning about the capabilities of my own body and, I hope, still learning how to please my Mistress Maggie. I know that there was no priority given to taking pictures due to the amount of slave mummifying effort on Maggie’s part, and again I would like to thank her for all that.

Needles and Pins

I have just been part of a most sensational and sensual session, where I believe I witnessed Mistress Maggie in her most happy state following her excellent performance with her slave. No Plan B's, no anxious moments, just the most wonderful pinning all over my torso.

I had to attend with minimal latex. “Pack your kit bag with your black shorts, accessories and your butt plug”, Mistress had instructed. And from that minimalistic wardrobe, only the socks and gloves would eventually be required; no shorts, no butt plug.

From the moment Mistress opened the door to The Chambers, it only took a few seconds before I felt I where I needed to be; in the zone. Maggie, with her hair in a bun, was wearing her black latex nurse’s dress adorned with red accents, and of course, red medical crosses complementing her nurse cap. Around her waist, a corset belt, not that it’s needed as she has a stunning body. I did notice, rather unusually that Mistress was wearing brown latex gloves normally associated with some form of medical procedure. Once more, from that moment I knew I wanted to do anything and everything to please my Mistress. My promise briefly flashed into my mind as a reminder, but it is already etched into my mind so I didn't dwell there.

That familiar urge to plant a loving kiss on her rounded orbs was suppressed as we mounted the staircase. I know one of these days my urge might overcome my training and heaven knows what reaction I’d receive from Maggie if I do 'accidentally' brush my lips against her cheeks.

In The Playroom, in a near naked state of just latex gloves and socks, I set about my first task of worshipping Mistresses shoes. Yes, flat black functional footwear without the same lickable, worshipable expanse as a pair of boots. Mistress knew I would have to move frequently to lick every part and took advantage by keeping her riding crop moving; giving the exposed parts of my back and bum a good thwacking with her crop, with little mercy shown in her blows.

It was at this point I glanced Maggie’s session notes for today, they looked voluminous and typed, Maggie must have put a lot of work and time into her session planning and referred to her notes frequently for confirmation that she’d not missed any part of them out. The first was offering her slave the choice of large or small anal beads as I knelt on the latex bed. A choice! Maggie was already playing a very devious game as she knows me well enough that I always go with whatever she desires so... I bottled out and said nothing. I anticipated that would result in the large string being inserted but no, one by one the four smaller beads passed my sphincter, each one accompanied by a very satisfying 'plop' as it entered the black hole.

Led by my collar through to The Clinic, I sat on the side of The Couch as instructed and was fitted with a nasal cannula. (The cannula pump system is one of Maggie's husband, John's, wonderful inventions). A couple of pieces of medical tape were used to prevent it from shifting while I had a red latex hood put on. Mistress spent a little time ensuring all holes were lined up then I was zipped in. It felt like I was once more becoming an anonymous rubber plaything, moreso when I was given a black rubber operating gown to put on, covering me down to my knees.

All the while, Maggie had adopted a very authoritarian stance with concise instructions, all delivered in a manner associated with a nurse or sister, sympathetic yet severe. A distinct smell of antiseptic filled the room, even the lighting was staged like a surgery, the main lights were dimmed low and the bright white light of an adjustable lamp was aimed directly at my face. It certainly appeared that Maggie meant business, in an unusual and disturbing way.

Mistress displayed a cold, clinical detachment to her patient as she laid out a tray with an assortment of needles, syringes and various other items that she would need for my treatment, along with bandages that were soon to render my hands useless.

Left hand first, I had to clench my hand into a fist whilst holding the end of the stretchy bandage and Maggie proceeded to wrap my hand, quite tight but very comfortable. By the time she had finished I was left with a stump where my hand used to be and to ensure the bandage remained secure, a wrap of cling film was applied. This was one of the most effective hand restraints that Mistress had ever applied and my right hand went on to receive exactly the same incarceration. I did start to worry a little because there was NO WAY I could get myself out of this pickle, but there again Maggie appeared happy and that was all I needed.

The next choreographed part involved Mistress quietly taking my blood pressure and using her cold stethoscope on various parts of my trunk and, regularly recording something, presumably the results, on a clipboard. Still recording on her clipboard I was asked questions about my physical health, which were either ignored or ridiculed, and that was before we even began discussing my small penis. My nurse certainly knew how to demean her patient! In all honesty, I was LOVING the humiliation by my beautiful nurse.

After a further consultation with her notes, I was informed that because I had failed to respond well to conventional treatment for my ailments, Protocol 17 would have to be used. Hmmm! Once again I was starting to become a little more concerned, particularly when Protocol 17 was explained to me as being a series of corrective injections. Their purpose was not to heal me, but provide re-education through discomfort.

Up went the gown to be tucked out of the way under my chin, allowing for body straps to secure me to the couch. Large amounts of surgical spirit, probably far more than necessary, were poured all over my stomach, cock, balls and thighs and spread about the area with an oversized, saturated medical swab. The application to my chest was tolerable, but bloody hell, the dousing of spirit on my cock and balls didn’t half sting. There was nothing to do but grin and bear it until the stinging subsided. It’s not like a needle that can be removed to alleviate the issues and I lay there waiting for the itch to stop!

Whilst I was mastering the lower stinging, Mistress retrieved several ice blocks. ‘These will help with preventing bleeding’, she announced. I was convinced by this, but in hindsight I think my nurse may have been bamboozling her patient. In any case, Maggie applied each ice pack to an area she wanted to work on next and they were COLD! Exactly what you'd expect from an ice pack.

Just how to say please

  And get down on my knees

Yeah, that's how it begins

  I'll feel those needles and pins

Hurtin' me, hurtin' me

By now Mistress was starting to refer to my body as just a slab of meat to play with and things began to get more alarming, one by one Maggie presented the syringes and needles before my eyes, so I got a real close up view of each one whilst she contemplated which to use first. Syringes were the first to be selected and Maggie carefully filled one with saline from a plastic vial and proceeded to stick it somewhere in my trunk, inject some of the saline then jab me in another location to empty it of the remaining contents, and there it was left, just dangling. This was repeated with several more syringes, each one left where it was after the contents were emptied. Although I couldn't see I had visions of Mistress suddenly call, 'One Hundred and Eighty', as each dart stuck in the dartboard.

Having skewered her meat with syringes Mistress moved on to the needles. At first their deployment was somewhat random, the shorter needles were inserted wherever Maggie fancied stabbing her piece of meat. The longer needles, once again paraded right in front of my eyes were going to be placed in a more structured manner. There were to be two patches of needles in specific patterns and others used for weaving. Bearing in mind that Mistress was constantly moving the ice block to the next area of embroidery, my cock and balls were now quite cold so that was the first point to receive clustered needles. At least Mistress was gracious enough to allow me some aromas now to reduce the pain of needles being inserted round my bell end, about eight of them I think.

Whilst this was going on, a large patch on the right side of my stomach was being super cooled and that would be the next sticking point! Not to put too fine a point on it, I was starting to feel like a pin cushion. Not only were the large needles deployed, Mistress appeared very happy whilst deploying six cannula needles at random, with one being pierced through my left nipple. That one was by far the worst of all my injections and I had to beg for more aromas, fortunately I was allowed a long puff.

Mistress reminded me that I was just a treatment site now, and that I would continue to receive the treatment that my nurse wanted until I chose to show more gratitude. At this point I started saying a lot of thank you’s, because, despite what nurse might think, I am always grateful for any and all the time she is prepared to allocate to her subject.

The gratitude was stretched even further when Nurse started attaching electrodes to the various pins and needles that now adorned the meat, enhanced with an electro pinwheel just to provide a little 'mobile' treatment. Then more of my nurse’s correctional saline injections, oh the joy! The things I willingly do for my Mistress/Nurse! And the final part of my treatment was introduction of the violet wand. This is definitely not something to be scoffed at, although I am full of gratitude on learning that there’s a limit to the power you can safely use with Mistress’s modified vintage machine.

Mistress removed 42+ needles and took care of the few bleeding spots that had occurred about my person. Because of the cold water run off from the ice packs, the couch had become messy and needed a good clean. It is remarkable how much mess can be created by a lot of water and a little amount of the red stuff. By comparison I had got off scot-free, at least I wasn’t leaking all over the place.

I will finish off with the lyrics of a song I discovered recently and wish to dedicate the sentiments to my wonderful Mistress Maggie. I would also add that this was one of the most relaxing sessions that I have experienced in terms of going exactly to plan, due to Maggie's mindset, comprehensive notes, instructions and guidance, a plan B was never required and I think she had a good time sticking pins and needles in her slab of meat.

With one wave of your hand

  I'm your slave to command

But I'm glad it's okay

  Oh, anything you say I'm like a hunk of clay

And that describes exactly what it felt like to be treated by the best of the best!

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.