Cock and Nettle Rissoles - Yumeee!

As Mistress Maggie was installing my trusty black butt plug, I allowed myself a quiet smile as she examined my arse and then commented that there were still a few visible marks across my butt cheeks. It had been two weeks since I had received punishment with her cane and I had a feeling there may be some residual memories of the twenty strokes and had kept my bum covered in the intervening fortnight. Mistress was somewhat pleased that I was still wearing her brand and I was definitely delighted to have my feelings confirmed.

The insertion of the butt plug itself presented a few humorous moments. Mistress is never economical with lubrication; today she had made the plug unusually slippery. It slipped right out from between Maggie's hands like a well oiled eel and landed fair and square on the Trample Table. Being highly polished and the base of the plug shaped like a plunger, they appeared to be mating; the table very stable, the plug wobbling slightly, pointing skywards and Mistress swaying slightly with laughter. Seizing the opportunity for more fun at slaves expense, Mistress instructed me to sit on the plug and insert it myself. More peels of laughter as the damn thing had a life of its own and kept playing tag with my bum hole. After much amusement but needing to move on, Maggie finally regained control of the plug and it was in its home in seconds.

I was wearing my black latex shorts and tee shirt as it was a rather warm day, and after some very pleasant shoe worship, Mistress had me facing her, face down on her latex clad thighs while she landed many quick blows on my back and backside with her multi-thonged whip. Mistress appeared to like the sound of her whip thwacking against rubber and spent quite some time just beating out a steady and pleasant rhythm.

Maggie knew it wasn't hurting her slave, so it must have been for her own sheer pleasure as she ordered me to bend over the latex bed in the more conventional position for receiving a thorough whipping. I could hear the whip swinging and swishing through the quiet Playroom air now that Maggie was using it at arms length and my bum began swaying in response to the kiss of the leather thongs each time they landed, leaving a warm glow.

Maggie announced that she had planned a gourmet theme for the first part of today's session . . . ‘ I will be making cock and nettle rissoles’. These consisted of tenderised meat balls, garnished and marinaded in fresh nettles then microwaved to perfection.

Oh bollocks. I should have known that nettles would appear somewhere on the menu for today. My caning two weeks ago, was due to my poor details about earlier nettle experiences. Unlike previous occasions where I surreptitiously could aim for the older and less potent nettles, Mistress was to take full control of exactly where the green garnish would be placed, and to make a real meal of the occasion her polished Trampling Platform would be used for preparing and showing off her recipe.

But first, we all know where the meat balls were to be sourced; good solid Yorkshire stock for cock and balls. A couple of bolster cushions helped raise my buttocks to the appropriate height, smart use of an old stocking wound round the base of cock and balls provided a tight seal and they were ready to be offered up to the little hole in the centre of the table. When Maggie was satisfied that her property would not escape, the two clamps were snapped shut leaving my cock and balls the centrepiece of the table, very exposed and very vulnerable.

For good measure my hands were loosely chained to the legs of the table. Maggie's caring side is never far from the surface and I gladly accepted the latex pillow to raise my head from the Playroom floor. Or was it so that I could see and kiss the high heeled tenderisers she was wearing and about to use for the meat balls?

The pair of black shoes I had been so lovingly worshipping earlier were the first to be used to trample on her meat, then a white pair with a well defined and pronounced tread pattern on their soles. 

Maggie was particularly pleased to present these for me to examine, as she described all the features and benefits of her chosen tenderising footwear. I did manage a little foot worship before Mistress put the white ‘bovver’ boots on. I am sure they had tractor tread as their soles and if not for their height, colour and weight they would make a good pair of walking boots, the sort that leave an impressive footprint on anything they come into contact with.

Grabbing the overhead ring to steady herself, Mistress made sure that both pairs came into very close contact with her cock and balls and for quite a while, her actions came into very close contact with my soul. For my part I just clung on with my tethered wrists grasping firmly onto the table top, but the table was already a very stable platform for Maggie’s trampling tenderisation process! Perhaps it was just fear or pain on my part that made me grip the table so tightly?

Once Maggie's impressive footprints had minced my cock and balls to a suitable consistency it was on to the garnish and nettle marinade. Mistress made sure it was only her slave that would benefit from the tender touch of her fresh nettles by donning another pair of disposable latex gloves. Forever unselfish and thoughtful towards her slave, she snipped the most potent leaves and put them to one side for the final garnish. I on my part was quite happy to share with Mistress the nettle delights.

The remaining young leaves were dissected into fine strips, then with her tweezers she carefully positioned the nettle pieces to any visible parts, using a little lube as glue. A thin coating of plastic wrap sealed everything nice and tightly in place followed by a thick layer sealing everything to the table and Maggie announced, 'Fifteen minutes marinading and they will be ready for cooking’. All I could do was lie back and wait for Maggie’s stinging marinade to infuse into her meatballs.

Cling film removed, the thin slivers of nettle were removed and Maggie began brushing my marinated cock and balls with cooking oil. Well, she said it was cooking oil but I could see the bottle on the table labelled ‘electrosex contact gel’. Not my job to tell a lady how to cook so I stayed quiet and hoped for the best. Two conductive electric cooking rings were slipped over my cock and wired up ready for her 'special' method of cooking. There’s nothing like a bit of seasoning and Mistress set her white 'pepperpot' electric box to a moderate level and the cooking commenced. The metal brush was also an electrode, Maggie used it to give her meat a regular basting and finished her recipe with a final sprig of nettle garnish.

I am not sure how Mary Berry would describe this method of cooking? Flash fry, seared, microwaved, but I know after being tenderised, marinated and basted, the meat balls were well cooked after ten minutes, and I was done to a twitching turn. Freshly garnished and ready to be eaten.

Mistress bent over and sank her teeth into my balls. Thank goodness for those tractor tread soles, they had done a good job at tenderising my balls and Mistress did not have to bite too hard when she finally sampled her meatball meal.

All the while I just gazed and admired the chef as she went about her cooking and eating and I was really grateful for the latex cushion and some of the views they were able to provide me with.

Ah, the remainder of the plastic scene from our last session. Just like the annual nettling, the previous plasticking wasn't going to go away. I was told to remove everything as Maggie was going to help me broaden my horizons to encompass something other than my rubber fetish. I was placed back into the plastic suit I had worn in my previous session and I felt somewhat at home with my new plasticky skin. I have often thought about Mistress using me as part of her Playroom furniture, only a short while before her cock and balls did become part of her table, well now I was to be placed in storage inside a large plastic mattress cover.

It wasn't long before I was standing under the centre ring with calves and thighs taped inside and Mistress fitting the stout supporting waist corset. My arms were arranged across my chest and I was taped inside with gaffer ready to be hung into storage. Of course effective storage involves total coverage and the inflatable hood was utilised to completely seal her property away from harm.

I think Mistress was getting a little bored just seeing her slave enjoying myself, warming nicely and swinging gently in the stout chains, so after a little dextrous rope work my pre cooked cock and balls were captured in their own tight plastic compartment; a right little handful for Mistress to have fun with. I could feel copious amounts of cold lubrication being injected in there, Mistress had prepared a lube filled hyperdermic and was syphoning its contents through a tiny hole in the plastic, before plugging in a powerful vibrator which she used to disperse it.

Her balls were given plenty of attention. The breathing tube as well received her attention, as Maggie regulated my breathing with her own exhaled breath - ah, that heavenly essence of Maggie again.

I slumped with my whole weight  against the corset and chains as Mistress Maggie leaned against her very hot, very wet and very willing slave.

Not just leaned against but Mistress said ‘I know you are loving all this plastic slave. You have permission to stay in it while you fuck my rubber clothes until you cum’. Now that command really put me in a total quandary. I had been trying very hard all session to control my urges and make sure I didn't cum, now Mistress was instructing me to do just the opposite. It is an interesting position to try any kind of fucking activity. Knees together, only balls poking proudly inside the plastic and suspended from the rafters with chain. What else could a good loyal, obedient slave do? So I followed my Mistresses instructions as best as I could and can assure you I got really hot inside my plastic cocoon and the chains were definitely necessary to hold me up in the end.

I have been nettled before; I have worn the corset before; I have been plastic wrapped before, in fact I have enjoyed nearly all the elements before, but yet again, this was a totally unique and wonderful experience with Mistress Maggie. You do sweat a lot inside a plastic bag on a warm day but I love every minute of my time with my Mistress. 

A cautionary tale though; anyone who is privileged to receive a good caning, remember that even after two weeks, your badges of honour may still be visible and your ass still sore.

Relief for Mistress?

After 97 sessions I have come to understand some of the moods and feelings of Mistress Maggie. I certainly know when I have disappointed her, but this week I got the impression from a couple of email exchanges that she was deeply perturbed by a couple of issues, neither of which were of my making. I had already responded 'I hope that you will use your slave to work off some of your anguish'. The brevity of her calling mail tended to confirm that something still concerned Mistress 'Slave required to help Mistress into new rubber catsuit . . . Pack black rubber.' I wracked my brains for what I might have done and for once nothing obvious sprang to mind.

When I arrived Mistress was in good spirits. We talked and Maggie outlined the order of events, I was going to pedicure her feet and then zip her into her brand new never worn catsuit which was hanging lifelessly on its hanger from the gantry. It wasn’t hanging up there on its own for too long, as Maggie helped me into my rubber suit, cuffed me to the overhead and brought a bucket and sponge to wash away any talc smears in COLD water! I was able to surreptitiously swing round a little in the fetters and gaze at her new suit hanging nearby, with no chance of release until I was fully drip dried.

Meanwhile, Maggie sat in her latex dressing gown and sheer stockings on her throne, teasing her slave with lewd and very suggestive gestures, whilst I just hung around getting considerably warmer. To speed up the drying cycle Maggie had me circling my hips and performing strenuous knee jumps until there were no water droplets to be seen.

Mistress thought best to have her pedicure done in the White Room, she could lie back and relax on the couch with her feet up and rely on her slave to have her feet looking and feeling fabulous and fit for a queen.

And so I was led to the White Room where I gently eased off her shoes, parking them neatly against the wall as Maggie slipped off her stockings and handed me the tools required for pedicure.

With one leg in each stirrup, Mistress gave me instructions as to which small outcrops of hard skin needed attention and I got busy with an emery board. To help ensure I did a good job I was to forego the usual rubber gloves and would need to wear my glasses. They actually stayed in place on the outside of the open faced hood; yet another first in my training.

I am a red blooded slave and required considerable self-control as the latex dressing gown Mistress was wearing gently parted, once again revealing that Mistress was naked underneath. As well as red blooded I am trained and I took the sensible way out; positioned myself facing away from her nakedness and set to work gently pedicuring each of her beautiful feet. I had come into intimate contact with them earlier but only as I licked and cleaned every inch of fabric that were her black, shiny platform shoes. Now I could hold them, smooth them and generally worship them in the raw but I had a job to do.

Glasses required!

This is one activity I know Mistress likes and one that I am becoming passable at. After a long and gentle rubbing with the emery I cleaned each foot with my tongue to check for smoothness before asking Mistress if she was satisfied with my work. This time when she spoke I didn't make the mistake of looking where I shouldn't and gazed straight at her face, as she confirmed I was doing a good job and directed me to small areas that required a little more of my attention.

The next instruction set me shaking. I was to use two long wooden cotton buds, one to clean and the second to polish her intimate diamond ring. She held the ring as I wiped and polished the little gem with the buds. I am sure the trembling of my hands was transmitted down the bud but I persevered and finally completed the special task to Maggie's satisfaction and her slaves severe frustration!

We returned to the Playroom and I was instructed to glove up. Maggie said she needed the toilet and it would be best to go before dressing in her new catsuit. I was to be her convenience and promptly marched to the bathroom where I was to position myself over the toilet pan, face up so I could act as her nice, soft, warm rubbery toilet seat. And so it was Mistress squatted, ordered ‘open mouth' and released a warm stream straight into it. Not full flow, a controlled outpouring, followed by 'swallow’. I was just pleased that Maggie might have found another method of tension release, using her slaves eager mouth to relieve herself. I needed the thirst quenching, then Mistress who insists on a spotless bathroom had the convenience of using me to clean up spillages, but that is a slaves job after all.

It was then time to pour Mistress into her new catsuit. The suit is a lot thinner than mine and because of that required more care when easing Mistress inside her second skin. Despite Maggie having chlorinated the suit we both agreed a little talc the first time wouldn't go amiss. One leg slithered home, then the second leg, a little powder and each arm slipped in, once more making Mistress take on the vision of one of my fantasies; my rubber Mistress. The final act I had to perform was to ease the long zip all the the way up past her buttocks, past her waist, and finally up her back to her slender neck. All the while, the suit tightened and Maggie and her second skin became one.

Out came the bondage chair again into the middle of the Playroom, and I was parked on it and tied rather unceremoniously by several lengths of rope to the various eyelets around its frame, my neck collar also was secured to the back of the chair minimising any forward head movement.

I sat there for five minutes or so with only the sound of rustling plastic in the next room for company, until Mistress returned and double bagged me with clear plastic which was tightened at my neck with a convenient piece of latex bandage. It was at this time I realised I wasn't 100% recovered from my recent cold. I would normally lap it up, but instead I really struggled and my begging began far too early. Maggie attentive as always to a dying slave curtailed that part and moved on to her needle point play. Eight sterile needles to be precise. Four in each nipple.

My nipple zips had been slowly opened and Maggie methodically assembled all her nipple jabbing necessaries in a silver dish, which she placed on a table to my left. Gloved up, Maggie showed me the first needle before lining it up with my nipple, saying ‘I am going to push this through now, are you ready?’. The right hand ones were a nightmare, I had forgotten how to ride the pain. Taking a deep intake of breath just as Mistress was attaching the nipple needle did not seem to be working, resulting in more intake, and by the time the fourth one went in I almost lost it. My breathing became ragged, the voices in my head were telling me I really shouldn't have breathed in at that moment and I was generally in a sorry state.

Mistress agreed a time out to allow me to settle and realising the problem said 'deep breath in, and after I count 3 you will receive the next one’. That is of course the correct way. I paused with full lungs and at the count of three, slowly exhaled as the pain subsided; easy when you know how.

I would not be escaping without a rubber hood either, a double walled white rubber hood was brought into play. I had seen the hood earlier in the week when we chlorinated the item, but at that stage I could neither visualise how it fitted or what it would feel like. I got an answer to both questions. Maggie fitted the hood whilst I sat as still as I could so as not to disturb my nipple furniture. Mistress thought I looked hilarious in the hood with the front flapping like elephant ears and thought it even more amusing as she sealed me inside the two layers. Another of those 'I will regret this moment' but the hood felt really comfortable and even with me flapped inside, I could draw in sufficient air to allow me to wear the hood for a long time without any problem. The good thing was that Maggie was starting to laugh at her slave again. Perhaps the blues were lifting?.

My tightly gripped cock was now released from the catsuit. The relief from the tight compression was immediate and Maggie smiled again and I knew things were about to become more 'playful' as another length of white Playroom rope was secured tightly round my balls and a lead snapped on but left dangling for later. I was sat breathing easily in the sealed mask, Mistress was caressing her balls and gathering them with the rope and everything was rosy and I could have stayed there for the remainder of the afternoon but in reality, release from the hood and chair came far too quickly, but we always work to Maggie's schedule not mine.

I soon discovered that what I thought was a lead to my balls was actually a piece of bungee. Maggie had stopped to admire her stunning catsuit in the Playroom mirror, I spotted a smear of talc on her left cheek and naturally grabbed a towel and was about to give her buttocks a good rub. Surprise! - my balls had been secured by bungee cord to the Playroom bed, Mistress cruelly inched away from me with instructions to go ahead and clean her buttocks, then moved further away still, saying 'kiss my lovely latex ass slave.' 

Despite the almost overwhelming urges, don't eagerly leap forward otherwise your balls get a real snap with the bungee. Best to gently ease forward so the gradual pressure stretches the cord (and balls) slowly, and ‘et viola’, a slave can kiss his Mistresses latex clad cheeks whilst balls are being pulled in the opposite direction. My biggest bungee challenge was tidying up the play space and pushing Maggie’s throne back into its rightful place in the corner, as Maggies balls just wanted to bungee over to the Playroom bed to which they were still firmly attached.

I detected that Maggie must have some residual feelings of frustration which needed working off, as she strapped me to the punishment horse and used several of her implements on my tightly latexed arse: the delrin cane, a stout yellow handled cane and a senior cane, quite a good workout with that one. Then a few strokes with a red whip, but the loudest and longest lasting sounds were made with the Amsterdam whip; very loud thudding sounds of leather firmly striking latex. Maggie didn't spare the Amsterdam but even the hardest cracks leave little impression, in contrast the canes definitely leave an impression on my buttocks even through the thick latex. Maggie shifted her stance and attacked back, balls, thighs and anywhere else the Amsterdam could reach and I think I finally tired her arm as the session drew to its natural conclusion.

I hope Maggie got some pleasure by really laying into my arse with the canes and whips, and quite frankly if Maggie got relief from whatever was concerning her, my job was done.

Was it a good session? Yes definitely. I think I might have helped Mistress Maggie get rid of some of the frustrations that may have been bugging her, and judging by the huge smile on both her and her husband Johns face, as he caressed the smoothness of his wife still wearing the tight latex catsuit as we said our good nights, reinforced how relaxed she now was and I left her in excellent spirits.

To the Woods - Home by Three

After our exciting latex walk in the woods, Mistress Maggie, John her husband/photographer and I made our way quietly back to their home, and after a welcome coffee John downloaded the photos whilst Mistress had some unfinished business with her slave.

Maggie required a toilet visit and must have decided I was dehydrated after my strenuous walk, a lead was clipped on and I was walked to the bathroom. By now Mistress had hung up her rubber trench coat to reveal the very sexy sheer outfit that she’d been hiding underneath it all afternoon. I was instructed to lay on my back with my neck resting on the toilet seat; I had never been in this position before, and Mistress made no effort to remove her sheer clothes as she moved into a straddle position, taking her place above my mouth. Her abilities never fail to amaze me, as she settled her nylon covered crotch and released just sufficient pee for me to get a nice mouthful and stopped to allow a gulp. And so it went on: pee flow, pee stop, swallow when told; pee flow, pee stop, swallow when told, for about five minutes. Occasionally, as Mistress repositioned herself I was granted a very special view, she would lean forward and I got a glimpse of her radiant smile as she prepared another gulp for her thirsty slave. I think it fair to say I was well hydrated by the time Maggie had emptied her bladder, apart from a little dribble the bathroom managed to remain a pee free zone.
Of course, Maggie’s tights were well wet, all the moisture needed sucking out and the tights made clean and comfortable, I set about the job with great gusto. First with tongue to suck away any remnants, then I was instructed to soap up a flannel and gently clean her lower abdomen.

I must confess, I allowed myself to linger a shade too long on these duties which elicited the rebuke, ’Are you trying to excite your Mistress?’. What could I say, of course I was. ‘Just get on with your cleaning’, and fortunately that was that. I now had to blow until Mistress and her tights were both dry and comfortable, and me a very happy slave. As you would expect spillages had to be licked up and the floor cleaned, until Mistress was satisfied that her premises were once again spotless.

Returning to the Playroom I was told to kneel over the low bench and present my rear for her attention. On her recent trip to Amsterdam Mistress had acquired a new suede whip and was determined to give it a good work out on her latex slave. But before that, the rubber hannibal mask was pulled over my head, it fits like a glove but rules out any chance of sticking out your tongue, probably a good thing as it is one less way for her slave to get into trouble.

ADVICE: The observant among you will note my ripped sock. That was my own stupidity and happened while I was trying to pull my wellington boots on for the walk. I put a sock on the other foot that helped get it booted without incident.

I received a sound whipping, and the sound was amazing. Swish, thwack, swish THWACK. First the right cheek then the left, harder and harder. Mistress knows that the heavyweight rubber catsuit affords my arse considerable protection. I am not certain if she was at full throttle but decided to reposition me by hanging my wrists to the central overhead ring. This allowed her much greater freedom and access, with the 'Legs apart, slave' command I was more vulnerable and crucially I was unable to stretch the protective thick latex across my cheeks.
That whipping was far more effective, the lashes playing on many parts of my anatomy: my buttocks, my back, groin left, groin right, my cock and balls from front and rear; all receiving a good whipping with the occasional swish across my exposed nipples. Am I really perverted or just devoted to a perfect Mistress? I actually stood without too many grunts and started to really like the situation.

Mistress continued until she was satisfied that her new purchase was a good buy and that her slave had received a good dose of the whip.

I was released and I thought Maggie was being kind allowing me to relax on the sheep skin rug. Mistress was quite precise that I should lie completely on the rug. How thoughtful and it was comfy.

On went the ankle and wrist cuffs securely fixing my arms uselessly beneath me. No one can say Mistress does not prepare meticulously even for 'impromptu' sessions. Two bright red flying saucers appeared before my eyes, they looked homemade and I had not encountered them before, but I was about to get a very close encounter. Before I knew it they had landed on my nipples, where Mistress attached them with some tape and proceeded to give both nipples a good waxing. Drip, drip, drip until each nipple was encased in solidifying hot candle wax. The first few drops are the worst; as the wax layers build up the nipples become more protected. But Maggie ensured every bit of exposed nipple had their own little drop of hot wax applied.

What a day. A walk in the woods with Mistress, a good whipping, a thorough waxing, and now Mistress was standing above me slowly opening my crotch zip. My erection sprang out and Maggie put her boot on it, pressing it down and steadily working my foreskin back and forth under the sole of her boot, and the ends of her swaying whip were brushing against my latex suit. It was getting all too much and I said to Maggie that I was about to cum. ‘You can. Only when I have counted to 10’, she said. 1, 2, 3 . . . 8, 9, 10 and bang on cue I couldn't hold it in any longer. This time though I think Maggie was pleased because I had managed to hold on, not relieving myself until I was instructed.

Quite a day and one really good way to celebrate four years with the only Mistress I will ever want.

Just Hanging Around

After a comment by Mistress Maggie on her Flickr profile I turned up with a small bottle of gin and two small cans of tonic. I had spent a little time wrapping the items in what I hoped was a penis and balls shaped combination. Mistress got it straight away when I gave her the present, it was clear from her laughter and positive comments that we were going to have another really good training session.

Humorous at times, relaxed at times, painful at times, a little anxious at times, a little annoyance at times but above all enjoyable all the time. Today's session had all the above and I think after my previous 69 sessions with Mistress Maggie I may be making progress in understanding how to make Mistress happy with my efforts as her devoted slave. I had a fair inkling at the start of the session what two thirds of session content might be, but as usual no idea how those thirds were to be executed. Maggie hinted in my call up that I would face high level suspension and some serious breath play and referred vaguely to "setting the scene for some fine dining". This last comment intrigued me.

I returned from the bathroom and took up my obligatory kneeling position, head touching carpet, backside up in the air, ready to pay homage to Mistresses footwear, a pair of knee high patent laced boots. Mistress had instructed me to arrive wearing a steel ballweight; It feels strange with your butt high in the air, legs spread and forehead touching the carpet, balls pulled earthwards in that void between your legs. The slightest movement of hips setting your testicles swinging like a pendulum. After a brief spell worshipping Maggie's boots, I was turned over for a trampling with them, to remind me to lose more weight. I was beginning to dislike those boots!

More boot worship followed then Maggie instructed me to kneel the other way with arse facing her, ready to receive my butt plug, a little giggle from Maggie, a truly delightful sound, as she got the full vista of my weighted balls swinging freely between my legs. I think she is pleased with her stretching progress of my sphincter and was easily able to slip in my plug. It always provides me with a shudder as the widest part slips in past the stretched rim to settle securely in place, and caring as always Maggie asks "are you alright slave?" Oh yes!

Into my suit, another sensual experience that I think pleases Mistress as well, as we powdered the inside, stretched the skin and finally zipped me and butt plug securely inside. A little cleaning, a black latex hood and I was ready for the next stage. I stood passively, arms raised clutching the overhead ring as Maggie proceeded to expertly and snugly attach two rope harnesses; one around my ample girth and the other just below armpits.

I was soon to find out that these were to be attached to the ceiling suspension ring and this was where the anxiety crept in. Not because I was anxious about the suspension, definitely not, as I trust Mistress implicitly. No, the anxiety was both mine and Maggie's because in her enthusiasm to hook me up on the suspension ring, she pulled a little hard on a loose end of rope and it caught her eye and dislodged her contact lens. To me, it happened in slow-mo. I could see the end of the rope flick up, I could see it travelling in an arc towards Maggie's eye but I couldn't react in time. Maggie didn't see it coming and I could see her pain in that instant of impact. Nothing I could do. I was mortified.

After a moment to compose herself and a look on the floor Maggie realised that she had little prospect of finding it, particularly as we were slap bang in the middle of the shaggy carpet that forms the centre piece of the floor. Undaunted but a little disappointed Maggie fetched her glasses and the moment passed. Except it didn't. Many times where I should have been concentrating on my slave duties, I found my eyes scanning the floor for any glint of lens.

Mistress completed the vertical suspension ropes and had me relax back into the suspension but still with both feet on the ground. I was really relaxed and knew I was safe and actually started humming. Maggie did not appreciate that and secured a red gas mask over my latex helmet to drown out any further humming. "Shut up and shut your eyes, slave" was her command, and with the help of some powder Mistress eased it on. I had no trouble with having first one leg and then the other tied to the overhead, leaving me flying like a bird. This was fun. I tried to pirouette like a skater bending a knee and attempting to rotate in my harness. 

And now for a little flying discipline. As I was gently rotating peering through the misted goggles of the mask, Mistress helped my spinning and then encouraged attention with the paddle. Every time a suitable target swung into range, it received a good spanking. Gentle at first but as she found her range, more regular and harder accompanied by laughter as I wriggled to avoid the next one, only enhancing my swing. I was still having fun though and occasionally Mistress would stray between my legs to get a better target and in those fleeting moments I was able to squeeze Mistress between my ankles. An extra rap with the paddle soon ended that, but I thought it was fun anyway.

After a suitable time, Maggie carefully undid all her knots and gently released my bindings. I safely landed and was able to stand without any dizziness after my swinging experience. Not over yet though. Maggie's plans were to utilise several of her major furniture items. The next to be moved centre stage was the high horse.

No bondage, ropes or gags. I am now sufficiently well trained to be told what to do, how to behave and then not let my Mistress down. When I first lent over the horse, I was in the traditional position with legs on the floor and my cock and balls 'humping' the end. Whether Maggie thought I was at the wrong angle or the impact of her blows was not sufficient, I was told to move further on to the bench with my head over the end and toes just touching the sides of the rear legs. It actually tightens your cheek muscles and I could see this would present a better target for Maggie as she set about my backside with her dressage whip and flogger. It was an incredibly relaxed and comfy position and one I had never previously achieved over the horse.

A funny thing about a good, tight latex suit is that it appears to spread and absorb the impact from both of Mistresses chosen implements. A bare bottom attack with the same intensity would have had me begging Maggie to stop quite quickly. As it was, I repeatedly heard the swish of the dressage whip, heard the resounding thwack as it struck home and felt the impact but somehow it took a lot longer for the sensations to build in my cheeks. Maggie did continue until my toes started to curl, but that too was a pleasant sensation. I had all my weight on the horse with nothing on my legs and it felt rather nice. I owned up afterwards to rather enjoying the flogging and how much the taught rubber removes the pain. Although I thought I might regret that comment in future, Maggie knew already which is why she continued until toe curling occurred. Mistress is truly remarkable with her perception about what her slaves should be comfortable with.

As I was luxuriating in the glowing warmth Maggie had managed to impart into my buttocks, Maggie was readying the next piece of equipment for use on her slave. I have experienced the low padded bench used in many ways during my training. This time, back to bench and hooded head comfortably resting on the padding, the dangly bits like legs could do their own thing trailing off the other end of the bench. When asked what colour rope I’d like for my 70th session I answered blue, but promptly changed to green when Maggie said the only blue rope she had was a short length that she uses to wrap round a slaves balls twenty times. No green rope at all so I settled on black. I was being awkward and Maggie knew it. Oh well, I know how to get myself into more trouble.

Anyway, with me secured to the bench and more importantly, arms nicely out of the way, Maggie progressed to clarify the second of the three hints in the call up mail. "Mistress will be wearing rubber that can mould itself to the shape of your face". I think it’s fairly clear what Maggie intended although I wasn't expecting the moulding to be achieved by Mistresses perfectly formed buttocks. Maggie has used me as a stool before but the seal this time was absolutely perfect. In fact so perfect that I started to panic. I couldn't breathe in or out. Blow as hard as I might all I could generate was the sound of a fart as the air sought any exit from its rubbery prison. As for breathing in. No chance. Much as I loved the sensation of the latex clad crevice descending on my nose and mouth, the survival instinct just couldn't be overridden. What a dilemma, be smothered by the perfect derriere or be a wimp and struggle for air. I think I disappointed Maggie by begging so soon, of course I was temporarily released to gulp a very welcome lungful of air. Sorry Maggie if on this occasion I let you down but your ass is a perfect fit over my face.

The final piece of equipment Maggie wanted to reacquaint me with was the trample table. A low, substantially built table with a hole for cock and balls to be presented for . . . yep, trampling on. Mistress brought a selection of playroom cushions to raise my bits to the required level, it took three or four to provide sufficient elevation. This was the only area that Maggie was unsure of. Would the steel ball weight that I was still wearing provide help or hindrance? Either eventuality was covered as I had been instructed to report to the session with the allen key to open the ball weight. It wasn't needed and for future reference, the circular steel weight provides a perfect collar to prevent cock and balls escaping downwards through the hole. Hmmm. Maybe not such a good idea after all but Maggie was happy and set about her decoration.

I had no idea what she was doing but it felt pleasant with the occasional peel of laughter, the clank of several heavy steel items, a judicious chain and short lengths of rope, Maggie seemed happy with her creation and sat back to admire her table centre piece; my cock, balls, and many ornaments! At least she didn't stick a candle in the end, that was reserved for a steel penis plug. What she did do was fetch three cooking implements and the electrics from the Clinic to help 'cook' her meal and then enjoy it. Balls had a flexible electrode attached and I was given the choice of which piece to use first. What a choice. A flat bladed knife, a metal spaghetti server and the meat fork that had been used to great effect during an early cling film session. I chose first the knife and then the spaghetti server. As it turned out it didn't really matter which. Each was capable of cooking cock and balls. But it was now clear what the third hint was on the calling mail . . . "setting the scene for some fine dining." Why can't Maggie have plastic knives and forks and a nylon spaghetti server, after all this is 2014!

For aperitif, Maggie set about wine making or at least trampling my balls after she had finished her meal. You wont be surprised that the G&T remained unopened, because Maggie never drinks while attending to her slaves as she needs 100% faculties to ensure the slaves aren't damaged. Well, not too much anyway.

And if any reader having read this is lucky enough to be granted a session with Mistress, keep one eye out for a shiny object lodged in a crack somewhere. If you find that contact lens you may be in line for 100's of Brownie points, or you may just receive a good hiding.

Football and Frolics

A lot happened today; quite a lot involving Mistress Maggies sadistic side.

Barely through the front door and even before I had time to say how stunning she looked, Mistress had me pinioned against the wall as she administered a healthy lungful or two of liquid aroma using the trusty cloth over mouth and nose method. Mistress appeared angry and hissed as she said she had had to deal with a load of bollocks this week and her slave would be used to vent her frustration. I knew it was going to be one of those days as, without further conversation, the lead was attached to my slave collar and I was dragged brusquely up to the Playroom

"Do you like my boots slave?" I was about to answer when the first well aimed kick had my balls travelling upwards to come to rest somewhere near my adams apple and real tears welling in my eyeballs. I was of course by now gagged, and tried to absorb the searing shock and pain as I hung limply from my shackled arms. I wasn't sure which was worst, the kick I could see and try and brace for, or the ones from behind through my well spread legs. They both hurt like hell. I was allowed just enough time to catch my breath before another well aimed blow took it away again. The odd crack of the whip added to the 'interest' of the moment.

Fortunately Maggie isn't totally sadistic and could see when I was really struggling to absorb the pain and just at the right time declared an end to football practise. I was to receive further instruction in using my chest when two of the nastiest nipple clamps were applied and left there to work their insidious magic.

I saw glimmers that Mistress may have vented some of that anger as she instructed me to use the knee pads for the brisk couple of laps round the Playroom. Apart from the hood with partially zipped eye holes and closed mouth, it appeared back to relative normality. Mistress gets the best performance from this slave when I am not muttering about painful or aching knee joints. Mistress didn't even feel the need to give me more kicking but I was trying hard to remember my basic heel training. Speaking of which, I finally managed my thigh boot worship that, but for the ball kicking, would have heralded the beginning of a normal session. The boots looked and tasted a little more angry than usual, probably due to the close proximity to my balls as they were being kicked and booted.

I was transferred to the low bench to experience the softer side as Mistress lubed my arse, drugged me with another couple of breaths of aroma and proceeded to mount me with the small strap on for five minutes. I knew it was five minutes as Maggie ordered her iPod to "set timer to five minutes" and received the reply "timer set" from another willing acolyte. Not only enjoyable but quite tuneful as each thrust set the bells tinkling on the nipple clamps. More sniffs from the bottle were ordered and more lube applied then I was not quite sure what was happening, but it felt like a hole borer was wriggling about in my arse. I was told later it was a Hitachi wand to further widen my orifice. I do accumulate a lot of very valuable information in my training sessions.

Not quite so amusing when I was transferred and roped to the high horse. The clamps were pinioned onto my chest adding another sensation to my already taxed nipples. Mistress squirted some de-sensitising spray on my arse-hole and I was to wait a short time for it to begin working, aromas used again to de-sensitise me further and Maggie, now wearing a much larger lubed up strap-on was positioning herself behind me.

"Set timer to five minutes", "timer set" was followed by an altogether more uncomfortable five minutes. Well, initially uncomfortable as Maggie gently introduced her larger strap on. It took a lot of stretching, a little discomfort but I was determined not to let Maggie down and gradually and incessantly the new invader reached its mark. I think I eventually took the whole length but only Maggie can confirm that. By the end of the five minutes, Mistress suggested an extra 90 seconds due to the slow start and I was to let her know when extra time was over. I managed to spin it out to at least two minutes. By that time I was starting to enjoy the sensations in my newly reamed arsehole. 

After all the drilling, stretching, boring and pushing Maggie had no difficulty with fitting my own butt plug. In fact I think my arse was relieved to say hello to an old friend as it dived back into its home ground.

Underneath that sadistic side, there is always the caring Maggie who looks after her slaves and I was reintroduced to the loose fitting red exercise suit. The transformation from ball beating to being gently guided into the suit by my Mistress was amazing. I sat and luxuriated, feeling a little guilty that I allowed Maggie to do all the work, as it slipped and slithered all the way up to my neck, topped off with the comfortable and snugly fitting waist corset that goes so well with the looseness of the suit. The three way zip allowed my cock and balls to be on the outside whilst the rest of me was protected by the latex suit, gloves, stockings and zippered hood. I told you Mistress had a softer side.

Adjourning to the White Room, Mistress planned to continue with her  pre-session e-mail of "helping me to find larger spaces to put my toys". I already had found a home for the strap-on and we were now going to explore where her rosebud sounds could be stored. I was lead through to the Clinic and made comfortable with my calves widely spread and strapped in position, then body and wrist straps secured this willing subject to the chair. Another dose of relaxant aroma was administered using the small facial mask and pad soaked in the wonder fuel. Careful as ever, Maggie donned her sterile latex gloves, flexed fingers to make sure they were positioned correctly, applied sufficient lubrication and then started the gentle insertions. The first and second sounds were in with no problems whatsoever. The third slipped in relatively easily and at that, Maggie was satisfied that her planned work was done. Apart from my cocks ability to naturally expel all sounds! Not this time. Maggie used a convenient length of playroom rope to create an effective sling.

A "well done slave" as the sounds settled at full length encouraged me to ask about a fourth one. Am I mad, was it bravado or just wanting to please my Mistress or was I adrift on a wave of euphoria brought on by the effect of the aromas? Whatever the reasons, I suggested trying the fourth and largest sound. At first Mistress was understandably reluctant but could see the potential, and after a bit more aroma gently inserted the fourth sound. It took a while, some gentle encouraging massage but the fourth sound did eventually settle in its new home, together with its three companions, as did the gold plated vibrator that Maggie applied to the ends of all four sounds. That feeling was intense. Having four sounds wriggling around their tight new home is, well, most stimulating.
Maggie is never one to be wasteful, and having removed my rubber hood she used the remnants of the good bottle of aroma to soak a cotton pad which she had taped to the inside of a plastic bag. The bag was then placed over my head and held in place until both the air and the aroma were completely depleted.

After removing the four sounds, Maggie had a novel way of cleaning out the inside of the urethra. Another pair of latex gloves, lots of lube, a gentle massage resulted in a quick eruption from within and a cleaned out tube. Simple and effective. Mistress was pleased with her spot of cleaning and was a fitting end to another excellent albeit painful at times, sixty-ninth session.

Maggie did advise that there may be some tenderness for a short while with my insistence on trying the fourth sound and the first pee afterwards was a little uncomfortable but then everything was back to normal, although my balls did feel a little tender for a while. Hardly surprising considering all the corner kicks, passes and penalty kicks they endured.

Certified Slave

What a novel use for Mistress Maggie's new plank. I had experienced the plank in its more traditional, horizontal position when I was shrink-wrapped, but on this occasion Maggie was trying it out as a whipping plank.  Bare cock, high varnish wood and a little light exercise with my backside being strapped and you can't move your cock at all. It's stuck to the plank, but it presented no problems for Maggie when inserting my butt plug. Mistress must have been in one of her more 'green' moods as she stuck my head in the leg of one of her used stockings, applied a hemp rope gag and then gave me a light flogging.

It wasn't as easy to maintain balance when Mistress turned me round with back to the plank, I was not feeling too stable resting only on my heels.

We adjourned to the Clinic as Mistress deemed it safer for the next part of my training and I received my first introduction to rubber for this session. The tight, black latex hood with pinhole eyes, topped off with a stout leather muzzle and I was firmly strapped to the gynae ouch!

Ouch indeed as Mistress applied four sterile pins per nipple and then spent some time attaching an electro-loop and cock cap before securely roping cock and balls to her bondage board and switching on the electric waves. The rigging was completed with a suitable mooring rope between board and collar.

With typical efficiency, Maggie had even used a template on each nipple to make placing the pins easier. A sort of pattern for pinning! In any event my nipples were not getting away that easily and to ensure there was no sailing away, both nipples were moored to the cock board using the pins as mooring bollards. Not as painful as it might look so long as the weather remains calm and you don't make sharp movements. Not always easy as Maggie has a habit of teasing her slaves in this type of position. The odd kiss here, a quick pat there, a gentle stroke or sharp slap, all designed to extract that extra bit of motion.

Anyway, I must have performed adequately to Mistresses satisfaction as I ended up receiving her special 'Certificate of Training'.

Continuing the nautical theme we returned to the main Playroom for watersports. I was to help Mistress protect the decks, laying down a waterproof PVC sheet and prepare myself for a good showering.





How can such a petite lady create such a monsoon?