A Slight Change of Plan

Mistress Maggie had given her clearest steer yet in the calling mail as to what was going to happen to her slave during this session.

'Your rubber Mistress has plans to escalate your training in order to harness the best performances from her slave.'

Not so much of a riddle this time and unusually I was able to interpret her words quite simply. I was to be placed in that stout body harness and hoisted off the ground to be hung like a side of beef and used by Mistress. I had had all night to imagine myself in this predicament and was quite ready for the experience as I rang the bell to the Chambers.

But first, the preliminaries. There are occasionally preliminaries and today Mistress wanted to discuss two things with me before I could engage in the obligatory worship of her footwear and the training ‘proper’.

The first needed me to have a steady hand to take a couple of photographs for Mistresses blog. Maggie wanted a photo of her modelling her satin bondage mitts and I found my hands shaking as I had to strap my Mistress inescapably into the mitts, fortunately I have had too much excellent training to even contemplate anything other than doing the job in hand, and a very good job with excellent results even though I say so myself.

The second preliminary was to recount my feelings and to let Mistress know of any side effects I had noticed following my previous session, when Mistress had performed my first bladder washout. No aches or pains; yes I could have taken more; yes it would have been interesting if the bladder was being filled from the top as well . . . er? - perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that judging by the big grin it put on Maggie’s face. Perhaps I should learn to keep quiet and not open my big mouth unless instructed!

After these two extra taskettes I was ordered onto the floor on my back to clean Maggie's boots and also for Mistress to indulge in a little nipple teasing with her long stiletto heeled boots. For those who have not had the privilege of having spiky heels driven into their nipples, it can be truly excruciating. However, I was luckily placated by being allowed to wear a pair of her used panties, carefully arranged by Mistress over the parts of my face that were snivelling the most and something I haven’t been allowed for a while.

The panties weren't the only thing Mistress wanted me to wear on my head, once she had stepped down from my chest it was time to check my lungs with a prolonged spell of bagging, that really got me breathing hard on Mistress’ scent which resulted in a happy but breathless slave and a happy Mistress, as she certainly does love her breathplay. Panties and bagging in one go, what a start!

Installation into my catsuit was swift and as for my butt plug, well that went in like the proverbial rodent up a drain pipe. A well-oiled procedure and no awkwardness whatsoever. I knew some floor work was imminent as Mistress passed me the Playroom knee pads and instructed ‘put them on slave’, swiftly followed by a rubber GP-5 mask rigged for self-medication of the attached aroma reservoir.

Today I found the mask incredibly comfortable. After a count of three, the mask was pulled tightly across my face and adjusted until we were both satisfied that it was in the right position. And yes, it was exactly right and I think I could have worn it all day. It was of course helped by the relaxing effects of the aromas, but whatever the reasons I was content with my lot; a GP-5’d slave in my own little rubber world as Mistress ceremonially locked a chain around my ankle and chained me to the Playroom. I say ceremonially because wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.

Maggie was flogging me at much less than her full power. With the medication, my head firmly on the carpet and music gently playing in the background I must admit to enjoying the experience and as Mistress proceeded, now using her dressage whip across my buttocks she stopped for a moment to say. ‘This whip always brings back fond memories of my fetish club days, because I always took it with me and it was so often needed’. A stout padded crop followed, a nine tailed whip and then a heavy leather flogger. I just relaxed and rode with the gentle stinging and thwacks that were raining down on my lower body.

With my backside and back gently warmed from the flogging Mistress moved the session along and produced the stout leather harness. I was a little surprised as I was expecting the suspension harness, but Maggie indicated that pulley system or not, she had changed her mind about lugging a huge 17 stone slave up towards the Playroom ceiling, so today she would be doing something a little lighter and I would be experiencing a little latex bed bondage.

Her chosen harness keeps the wearer quite rigid when tightly strapped, and before the wrist straps finally immobilized my arms by my side Maggie thought it would be fun if I were to dance a Highland jig and placed two dressage whips in a cross shape on the floor. I was instructed to ‘Dance slave or get the crops again’. It was actually fun and we both laughed as I commented that when my hands were finally strapped to my side I could entertain her with a Michael Flatley style of dancing. I did get my hands strapped in tight but fortunately wasn’t forced into performing an Irish jig. Maggie laughed and it was a delight to hear that sound again.

Lying immobile on the bed, Mistress started to fit me into the system mask. Last time I had difficulty accommodating the tight heavy hood, so on this occasion Maggie took much longer positioning it for the best fit, and not until I’d grunted that the mask was seated comfortably did she move onto the facial part. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable and accomplished at problem solving my Mistress is. She has made a thin extension section for the front of the hood, an optional extension which allows extra room for slaves, who like me, have been blessed with a rather big nose. I lay there, helpless, sealed inside, just the situation a true rubber slave loves to be in. By now the aromas delivery bulb was out of reach, so once again I found myself safely under the total control of Mistress.

As Mistress played with my cock she told me that she was going to fuck me with her electric sound. A simple conductive loop was used to capture my cock and balls and the urethral electro sound was inserted. The e-stim was raised to level 40, deemed by Maggie to be an 'ideal'! sensation level for her urethral wand, and I can only say that as she worked her magic I was indeed fucked with the electric sound and at last allowed to orgasm. The system mask was far more comfortable on this occasion and I think Maggie was quite pleased that I had managed so long before wimping out.

It was an unexpected journey that Mistress had guided me through today. Not strange physically but more one where Mistress manipulated the expectations of her slave, reinforcing that she can make changes at any time and altering the advertised experience. Maggie had told me exactly what was to happen, suspension, and my mind was anticipating being hung out to dry and it changed into a totally different type of bondage. It is remarkable how Mistress altered the direction that she wanted her slave to travel as the session progressed, and knowing the thoroughness of her planning I would not be at all surprised if this ‘slight change of plan’ was fully planned and scripted. At the end of the day Mistress can and does do whatever she wants with her slave and her rules also apply. Rule 9 – Mistress may change her mind at any time and Rule 15 – The slave must be ready at all times.

Maggie’s unexpected ‘change of mind’ gave an unusual twist to an already excellent training program. The session turned out to be a much gentler one than I had anticipated and that was strangely refreshing, although I suspect it won’t be too long before I am hung up and swaying from her ceiling. And a final tip for any lucky slaves who are offered the use of knee pads, I would suggest making use of them. They can be a little cumbersome when being walked on all fours, but today the pads allowed me to comfortably kneel for a long time during my flogging without my knees causing me trouble. Mistress Maggie thinks of everything.

The Twelve Ways of Mistress

🎄 Mistress Invites you to her Pantomime of Pervery 🎄

for adults only

Expect laughter, music, spectacle and lots of personal participation during this fun filled festive feast of a show.

Relive the adventures of Mistresses slave in training as she takes this traditional Christmas tune and distorts it almost beyond recognition. 

⬳⟿

The above extract from my calling mail gave me the distinct impression that Mistress Maggie was in festive mood and that I would be taking part in some Christmas entertainment. I arrived outside the Chambers with a spring in my step, a smile on my face, a bottle in hand for my Mistress and her husband, and ready for anything. Oh! I forgot, I was also carrying my perv bag complete with my red catsuit, black accessories and freshly polished black Wellington boots - just as instructed. I had a strong suspicion that once again I was to become a Christmas Santa Claus for my Owners amusement.

Mistresses thrill seeking show began as soon as I knelt at her feet to lick and worship her boots. There I was, innocently licking her red thigh high boots, up and down, long and slow and over her knee towards her glorious leather covered thighs, when I think I caught a glimpse of a naked Mistress underneath her latex skating skirt. Actually I wasn’t mistaken, but I know the rules and knew my job and so continued to concentrate on the cleaning rather than stare at my beautiful Mistress. It can be a hard and risky job being Mistress’ boot cleaner!

As expected I was soon inserted into the red catsuit and looking like Santa. Well, kind of like Santa, only I had to wear a gas mask instead of a sack. Maggie announced that her session plans would be presented to the tune of a well known carol, then retrieving her hymn sheet and singing to the tune of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ she outlined the session. I was asked to confirm understanding and acceptance of the actions in each of the verses, which was easy of course, as I have solemnly promised to willingly do whatever Mistress asks (or sings), immediately and without question. Mistress picked up her iPod and selected some easy music to get started . . .

And so to the Christmas Party.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my Mistress Planned for me:

12
Bouts of Spanking
OTK, in the lap of my Mistress. Who could ask for anything more? Plimsolls, slippers, paddles, hand slaps and hairbrushes all left their own rosy glow.





11
Pounds of Ball Weights Dangling
That is a lot of excess weight for a slave to carry between his legs but I suppose Santa should know how to handle big loads. Once acclimatised to the weight, I was led off to tour the Chambers with weight dangling merrily below. Back in the Playroom, Mistress partook in a glass of water.




10

Minutes of Dancing
With the music turned up I was swinging my ass and gas mask hose to a raunchy Madonna song. There is only one person who oozes more raw eroticism than Madge and I am owned by her. Oh yes, and Mistress took a sip of water.






9
Tails a Flogging
Amazing how tight my red catsuit can be across the buttocks when I am sticking my arse out further, inviting my Mistress to enjoy herself more with her cat o’ nine tails. After the whip, Mistress took another sip.






8
Electrodes Pulsing
Cleverly placed around my groin and stomach to produce really unusual and frustrating ripple sensations. Nothing I can do when my hands are tied up and Mistress is busy drinking more water.






7
Crooked Cane Strokes
I counted eight. Maggie said the extra one was deserved because I wriggled. No wonder I wriggled with a senior crooked cane playing on an already warmed up landscape. Mistress kept me over the whipping horse and drank a full glass of water.






6
Inch of her Strap-On
Hehe! and a vibrating one as well. Mistress must have been parched and had another sip of her water.






5
More Anal Toys
Taking advantage of my widened opening I was invaded and pumped up with an inflatable dildo. Quickly followed by the manhandler, most of a gloved hand, the powerful vibes of the Hitachi wand, finishing with the steel anal hook that Mistress so kindly attached to the overhead gantry. With me nicely hitched up out of the way Mistress began drinking, again!






4

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Horse Rides Round the Room
Not my finest event. The wonky knees restricted the horsing around to a walk round the track. Even then I fell at the start of the third furlong. Horse riding was never my strong point and I think I disappointed my Mistress. What’s that phrase? - you can lead a horse to water but Mistress drinks it all up?






3
Suffocation Bags
My Santa decorated head was captured inside three poly bags for some very noisy plastic breath control. The only thing wrong with three bags together, apart from not being able to breathe of course, was not being able to feel the Christmas kiss that Mistress gave me through the three layers. I could only watch her luscious warm lips as they approached, whilst gasping hard and dreaming of their touch. I envied Mistresses water glass as she took a few more sips.






2
Kicks up the Bum
I received quite a few more than two kicks up the rear, the important thing was that Maggie did seem to be enjoying it. ‘I didn’t put the boots on for nothing slave’. Perhaps she had a bad experience with Santa when she was younger? Or more likely she just fancied kicking the crap out of a very willing slaves backside. Anyway, who’s counting?




and



A Belly Full of Maggie’s Fine Pee
After all that water intake, quite a lot had to flow out. I was really fortunate that Maggie allowed me to be one of the first users of her new toilet box; a stunning piece of equipment. With my head nestled inside the latex toilet pan one thirst quenching stream of very fresh, warm, mulled Maggie wine was eagerly consumed by her slave. Oops! I did manage to get a little drop of wine on the beard, but hopefully I think I got away with it!

*  *  *

Today I was really privileged to be part of a well planned and well executed celebration of 133 previous sessions with my Mistress. The amount that she managed to seamlessly cram into the time available was amazing. The Christmassy session contained many of my 'favourites’, some of my owners favourites I hope, plus some new experiences like the new toilet and the 11lb ball weight. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

This blog is the 100th I have published about my slave escapades, and without the help of my owner, Mistress and friend I would not have been able to enjoy life as I do now. I will also thank Maggie's husband John for being patient, because I know I am demanding of Maggie's time, and finally;

I would like to wish everyone who has read my blogs a very Merry Christmas and a happy 2018. I hope you have been able to have as happy a 2017 as Mistress Maggie has provided for me.

Friday the 13th!

Today dispelled any antipathy towards Friday 13th by turning out, yet again, to be an excellent day for my training with Mistress Maggie. Maggie looked striking in her black latex catsuit, her heels were so high that she must have been a whole four inches taller than I am used to and she was able to look me straight in the eye as she ushered me in.

We started with the worship of those deliciously tall boots and for the first time I was blindfolded for the task. My whole body and soul concentrated on long slow licks and kisses to the right boot, where some dusting powder had been spilled and I’d been instructed to put the matter right.

After licking off all the powder I was to help Maggie change her boots for something easier to dance in. Maggie said that last week she’d had such a great time dancing and flogging me to the music that she wanted a repeat performance. Once again I was rubbered up in my black catsuit and given a gas mask with the aroma hose so I could puff vapour when required. This led to another sensuously liberating flogging accompanied by some sexy tracks on Maggie's music machine. No shackles this time, just free movement and swinging my ass to the rhythmic thwacks that Mistress delivered to my back and buttocks, the tails of her whip catching my balls and anywhere else Maggie wanted.

Today, I also experienced probably the deepest and most penetrating mounting ever. Again I was allowed to self medicate the strong aromas whilst face down over the mounting horse. Without any restraints I was in a position to glimpse my stunning owner in the Playroom mirror and I watched as Maggie strapped on a large white dildo. Being a little apprehensive about its size I did what any self respecting pervert would do; I allowed myself a few extra puffs to help relax the passage for the impending invasion. The flash of shiny black rubber completely covering my owner contrasting against her beautiful face and huge dildo did nothing to steady my erection, while Maggie parading the monster under the round glass portals of my gas mask only served to exacerbate my anxiety and. . . another puff was called for.

Mistress spent a delightful length of time stroking her lubricant onto her toy. There was no resistance as Mistress gently eased it inside me and set my arse rattling with vibrations, that was a surprise and the first of a few thrills this white monster had to offer. I was really enjoying dancing on this dildo and as I thrust back to meet my Mistress I felt the urge to either pee or cum. Strange, I just couldn't tell which. The phallus was so deeply embedded it may well have been tickling my bladder, or Maggie had just hit my special spot. Of course the only way to be certain is to wear a catheter whilst being mounted. Hmm - I suspect I shouldn't have written that!

Today, after my exceptional rear-ending, my own butt plug slid in remarkably easily and there it stayed, securely zipped inside my heavy weight rubber suit as my arms were forced into leather arm binders, secured behind and I was prepared for a series of treats and tortures. Mistress bagged her slave, literally, as the clear latex sack that Mistress calls her ‘suffo bag’ was teased over my head and tied in place. There must have been air getting in somewhere round the neckband, because although it’s a challenging hood I found that with concentrated slow breathing I didn't suffocate; that really would have been confirmation that Friday 13th should be avoided! Instead, I could just see through the golden haze as Mistress floated, ghostlike, in front, dispensing my next puff of aroma. An aroma soaked pad was introduced under the neck tie and I managed a few really good lungfuls before Mistress removed her hand and resealed my fate. She moved her fingers across my rubber face, stroking my lips and looking through the latex bag as if offering me a kiss, I know a slave should not expect such a pleasure and when I tried my best to reciprocate it was to no avail. Mistress moved backwards leaving me un-kissed and very frustrated.

My bondage predicament was tended to next, becoming more strict as ropes were fixed between my harness and the stout ceiling ring, then Maggie pulled as hard as she could to secure me to the Playroom. I was loving the restraints and I had one hell of an erection by now which had Maggie amused and even more amused when she produced the black rubber apron and tied it round my waist. I couldn’t imagine why I might need an apron, being in such a tied up position it would be hard to do any jobs, but I was quickly re-assured. Maggie patted my cock and balls, ‘to preserve your modesty slave’. Red rag to a bull. She knows I am a rubber fetishist and all that did was increase the size of my now hidden cock.

Today, no problems with the red rebreather hood, probably because my owner had removed my inner helmet. When we tried six weeks ago Maggie had been disappointed with my rebreathing performance and we had proved that using the red rebreather and inner hood is not practical and my breath control training had to be postponed. It was a big relief then, that when I took a deep breath and exhaled the hood ballooned exactly as it should. The rebreather can be rather a dilemma for a slave, especially when Mistress rather provocatively showed off her superb latex covered bottom in front of me, as you have brief limited vision only when exhaling. What a way to worship those beautiful black orbs, in very restricted view for far less then half your life and my hands secured behind to prevent them straying. Mistress knows I love to caress her buttocks; blindfolded, rebreather or any way I can manage, but that was not going to happen either.

Maggie tightened the body harness and securing ropes a little more and I wasn't going anywhere, unlike my earlier taste of freedom when I was over the horse. A cool sensation passed over my chest as Maggie opened my zips and exposed my nipples to the playroom air. She pinched and pulled them hard before deciding to get rid of the sweat that had accumulated on them by drying them off with towel and talc. ‘That will give these clamps a better grip’ she announced. I did manage a small glimpse of the clamps through my breathing holes; large black things, and I was soon taking very deep breaths through my rebreather as Maggie started to screw one of her evil clamps on my left nipple. From where I was kneeling (on knee pads by the way) the nipple was receiving a very tight grip indeed, until the clamp dropped off. ‘OK slave, lets try that again!’

Obviously I could no longer self medicate and I asked Mistress if there was any way to receive a little more dosage. Maggie produced a cotton pad again with a little more aroma and held it just in front of my half dozen rebreather holes. Ah! Worked a treat, I received a heady dose of the strong scent as the clamp was being screwed in place again. It was at this point that I realised I had probably requested one too many puffs of the potent product and, despite being held in a tight grip by one nipple and certainly most firmly by the ropes, I felt myself swaying and perhaps just a little out of control.

Today, I took one puff too many and Mistress, ever vigilant to her slaves condition, recognised the issue before I did. I had been stupid and over eager with my medication and Maggie carefully and calmly removed the red rebreather. I looked forward at my Mistresses glorious all black rear that was so tantalisingly close to my freed face, and I leaned forward in the hope of stealing a closer look at that most glorious of profiles - that's when it really hit me. As I moved forward the strength in my thighs gave way and I sagged into the rope restraints. I was never in any danger, my owner had her property secured. The spreader bar was removed which freed up my arms and legs, she administered oxygen to me from the Playroom emergency bottle before loosening the suspension ropes and gently guided me onto my side. Recovery was swift and within moments I was keen to resume my training, but Maggie insisted I take a little longer to ensure my full recovery.

As I lay there recovering, Mistress was jotting down a few notes about the electro nipple clamps she had attempted to apply on my 'useless nipples’. I suspect those clamps were not used to their full potential today and I have this uneasy feeling that the notes she made will surface for our next session.

Today was a marvellous Friday the 13th. Once the waft of oxygen had fully regenerated my senses, my ankles were bound and my wrists roped up behind me. Maggie then removed my sight once more. This time no immediate breath play, just blinded as Maggie strung me up to the ceiling ring in a noose, then began pulling on her rope to apply some constriction.

They say the concept of hanging induces orgasm, but I think that in this instance it was more to do with Mistress fondling my cock and balls through the chlorinated rubber apron while threatening to throttle me harder if I didn’t cum. As it was I couldn't see but I could certainly feel the knot tighten on a couple of occasions as Maggie encouraged relief. Then all of a sudden my hood was removed and I was presented with the wonderfully mysterious sight of my owner, but not my owner. A figure in a Pierrot mask and black rubber gown had taken her place and had been deciding my fate. Little had I known that I had been hitched to the roof and seductively massaged by a soulless executioner. I tried to gaze into those unfathomable eyes and I tried to steal a kiss. The eyes were black with so much depth and the lips were solid and lifeless. Now that is something surreal for Friday 13th.

Today, I have tried an alternate approach to my blog presentation and formatting but there is no alternative to Mistress Maggie as far as I am concerned. In the words of the song, Simply the Best and as for Friday 13th, bring on the next one. I'll be here.

Never Again

Today ended the most unhappy period in my slave existence. September ranks as one of the worst months ever as I was only able to enjoy minimal contact with my owner, Mistress Maggie. A series of one off blockers: holidays, work commitments etc, all conspired to prevent me from arranging any session time resulting in a six week break in my servitude. What's more, my six year anniversary of being accepted into Mistresses Chambers happened in September and I was not able to celebrate that momentous event. Do I hear violins playing or tugging at your heart strings perhaps, or is it that I shouldn't have been so stupid to allow this congestion to build up?

Well, I am really pleased to say that the drought is over and not just with the odd few drops of pleasure but a veritable tropical downpour. Strangely enough, all the first session nerves were there as I approached the Chambers, but as soon as the front door swung gently back to reveal that most stunning and beautiful vision of Mistress in her latex, all my angst vanished. Yes we still had two world leaders contemplating nuclear war, yes we had just experienced the worst massacre in American history, and yes, Teresa had almost lost her voice at conference and been less fortunate in not losing Boris; all that vanished and I felt safe. I nervously handed over the two dozen roses I had chosen as an 'I've really missed you' statement and all the external woes went. Mistress hadn't forgotten her loyal slave and all was right with the world.

Mistress promised she had some 'undisclosed' entertainment planned and I was sent to the Bathroom to put my latex socks and gloves on, when I returned I was asked to present the 'used' panties Mistress had kindly loaned me to help me through sad September and I placed my new ribbed butt-plug on the dresser, where it merrily wobbled awaiting insertion. I was delighted that on very close inspection, the panties passed muster for their laundering; a distinct upbeat start to a wonderful month considering my last poor laundry efforts, and I was back in heaven. Mistress was wearing her long red boots that take a lot of worshipping. Long, slow licks, foot to thigh, repeating all the way round from toe to heel. Unusually, halfway through Mistress opened her thighs and ordered me to sit between them, with my neck in the gap between those rather gorgeous nylon covered limbs.

I never imagined that such beautiful legs could exert such pressure around the neck of a slave, as firstly she clamped her thighs tightly around it, then proceeded to press her gloved hands tightly over my mouth and nose. I relaxed my head back into her lap and sat there happy, breathless and becoming quite horny. Quite a start to my reintroduction to slave discipline.

One good thing that happened in September was the delivery of my new black latex catsuit, a thinner and more stretchy one than my heavyweight suit, but also a lot tighter. We spent quite a while coaxing me into it but once on it felt so good and different than my other latex suits, and as Mistress rubbed me down I detected a smile on her beautiful lips and it felt even better!

One short-coming with the suit design is the shorter back zip opening and Mistress didn't find it as easy to fully expose her slaves backside for the butt-plug. Not too inconvenient though, Maggie did insert ‘big red’ but only after another consequence of sad September was overcome. Through lack of use, my bum required larger doses of effort and lube, plus a lot of patience on Maggie's part before we were happy that the plug had finally reseated itself in its natural environment. Another reason for 'never again'.

Ok. Snugly plugged and rubbered to Maggie's satisfaction, the Tusk Mask that had been leering from the back of the Throne was offered for fitting. The last time this wonderful creation received face time was as a prototype and Mistress has gone on to make several improvements to it, now it was ready for me to try again. Grasp the drinking tube firmly between teeth, brace your head and. . . one, two, three, Maggie has the mask snugly fitting. And there it was, a tight gas mask, two long tusks and a very happy and contented slave, complete with modifications (mask not slave!)

Maggie and her bursting bladder were desperate to thoroughly test the functionality of the masks mouth tube feature, she had slipped on her rubber piss pants and was connecting herself to my mouth with a blue control valve. Whether Mistress was teasing or it was a genuine oversight I do not know, but when Mistress instructed 'suck slave' I sucked and puffed and puffed and sucked and. . . nothing. A guttural, sexy laugh from Maggie followed by her checking both taps resulted in a steady stream being sucked through the straw and over my frustrated taste buds. It didn’t take long for me to find a successful technique for using the feeding tube and achieve a good flow by not sucking too hard, otherwise it sat nicely in the roof of my mouth when not in use.

I knelt gazing through the tusks' small, circular windows at the reservoir between Maggie's legs, first slowly emptying then filling up again as the next consignment of nectar arrived. 'Drink it all slave. Slowly!' And as I did I was allowed to snuggle against her red booted thighs and revel in my hood being gently stroked by its owner.

The next modification to the Tusker Mask Prototype 1, was the addition of removable blanking plugs for the tusks themselves, so Maggie can decide exactly how much of her air you are allowed. On this occasion, one blanking plug was left in place, but the second tusk had a gasmask hose attached to it for aroma breathing; a stunning piece of equipment designed and created by Mistresses' very talented husband, John. This special hose allows self delivery of aromas. A quick pump or two of the bulb to make sure the aromas were being delivered and Maggie was ready to move on to something she enjoys; flogging a slave.

Mistress shackled me to the cage with my wrists in iron manacles, and holding the bulb for when I needed the calming effects of the strong aroma I was told to stick my arse out for a flogging. ‘I am not going to beat you hard’ said Maggie, before picking up her whip and turning the next thirty minutes into a most sensual flogging experience.

If you are on Flickr there is some video footage of my flogging HERE but may not be available on all devices.

Whether it was the huge relief of being back with my Mistress or the upbeat Michael Jackson tracks playing in the background, the fact that I had waltzed with my Mistress after my catsuit dressing, had had my belly filled with her nectar, perhaps it was the intoxicating puffs of aromas or probably a combination of all the above, but as Maggie started with her floggers I was so deep in 'the zone' I was feeling more euphoric with each thwack. All I wanted to do was gyrate my bum and offer it up to Mistress and her whip. I was dancing with the music, or should I say moving my bum to the beat and shuffling the feet, as dancing is not something I’m famous for, while thinking how lucky I was to have such a perfect owner wanting to flog her slave. This has got to be one of the best floggings that Mistress has ever given to me in all my six years. I was slightly sad when it had to end and I was instructed to follow her to the White Room.

Any sadness was short lived as Mistress expertly fixed me to the couch and deployed a catheter. Maggie has become a real expert, competent and confident with her catheterisation and allows some of her natural humour to emerge during the operation. That is not to say she is any less careful and clinically correct, but she can now joke about the cool gel injected down my cock, the contents of her catheter kit, or even about not knowing how to store her catheter goodies now that supermarkets charge for their plastic carrier bags! When she first started doing catheters three or so years ago she concentrated on the mechanics of 'doing it right', whereas now she instinctively knows.

I was soon draining nicely, once again gazing at my stunning Mistress as she smiled at yet another 100% successful operation. We talked a while until Mistress decided I was talking far too much and needed a ball gag. That kept me quiet until most of my pee had drained into the cath bag.

Admittedly I was talking, but in my defence it had been a long and sad September without any personal contact with Mistress and I was still excited by all that had already happened in the Chambers today, but I was happy to lay back and take in all the beauties of the Clinic, well, my Mistress really, as she busied herself tidying the sterile bags and other one-off equipment that she uses.

With the catheter drain bag attached, the easiest way to prepare me for moving was to take her trusty pair of scissors and cut away the opaque plastic drape which had served as a very effective sterile operating area during the procedure. Shame really but Maggie does not reuse such items. Always the professional and the totally correct Mistress, that's another reason why I will always return. Then tightly clutching my catheter bag Maggie led me back to the Playroom. ’Careful. You're in trouble if you dislodge the tube, slave!'

The heavy leather sleep sack was brought down from its hanger and laid out under the overhead gantry, while I was confined to the corner holding my piss-bag and looking on at the industry being displayed by Maggie. The zip at the rear of the bag was eased open. Interesting I thought as my rear was currently full with my butt plug. A fact that was short lived however, as Mistress then invited me to bend over and she swapped the incumbent for an inflatable vibrating number. A quick test assured her I was vibrating nicely and I was told to squeeze myself inside the bodybag. Arms into the internal sheaths, a wriggle to get the most comfortable position, all my tubes and plumbing had been successfully brought through to the outside of the bag and Maggie zipped, tight-laced and strapped me in there. Boy was I snug and secure and definitely had no say as to where I was going.

Heavy chains were deployed to help Mistress with the daunting task of hoisting up her 17 stone slave, one pulley at a time until I was suspended at a good height. An amusing discovery fleetingly crept in as Mistress first raised one end of the frame and then the other: I could tell which end was higher by the direction the sweat was trickling up or down my calves, a bit like a spirit level and most appropriate for such a spiritual occasion.

I laid and swayed, occasionally feeling Mistress adjusting my catheter bag or playing with the butt-plug controls, Maggie’s welcome pumps of aroma had me drifting away inside the rubber tusk mask, because by now self medication was obviously a long way in the past, and I was in heaven; totally controlled by my owner.

It was time for Maggie to put her slave into total hibernation and by fitting a blindfold the last vestiges of visual contact were eliminated. I could still hear but only in a muffled way through my rubber headgear, and so I was left for a while as Mistress declared she was tired and needed a drink. I must admit that the mention of a drink gave me the urge as well, I sucked on the feeding tube, but nothing. So I simply contemplated my fate.

After an indeterminate period of long-term bondage resulting in heavenly isolation, and trying unsuccessfully to get the bum vibrator to bring me to climax, I noticed that Mistress was present again. It was my moving mouth tube that gave her away and I was finally allowed something to drink. Not quite the same vintage as my earlier drink, but it was wet and very well received.

It was only later, when we were clearing away after the session that my Mistress informed me that she had decided to have me recycle the contents of my drain bag; I knew that somehow it didn't taste quite the same. The prospect of being encouraged to recycle my own fluids was quite bizarre and I’m strangely delighted that once again I was able to fulfil my promise to my owner; obey immediately and without question. This acceptance is another step forward in my future purpose, to do whatever Mistress requires.

Once my tusk mask was removed I was treated to a final drink straight from the source. Willingly accepted of course, well how can a slave resist such fresh, warm and tasty champagne?  Mistress squatted over my eager mouth and released the remnants of her now empty bladder, and not a drop spilt. This was one helluva session and despite the old adage that absence makes the heart grow stronger - which it certainly did, I will never again willingly go through another 6 weeks of self inflicted isolation between serving sessions with Mistress Maggie.

Never again.

Big Red, Big One, Big Ride

As occasionally happens to commemorate special occasions, Mistress Maggie had planned something special, and we would enjoy a day out in Blackpool. I had finally and irreparably been declared 'old' by the state, having reached my 65th year and one of the last pensioners to receive my pension at sixty five. We were to take a thrill ride on the Big One, enjoy the spectacular views over the bay for about two seconds before plunging almost to death down that first, terrifying and very steep drop, take in some of the local attractions, perhaps another ride or two and end with a feast and perhaps, if I was lucky, a celebratory cake. It certainly sounded a wonderful way to celebrate with a day out with two friends.

It sounds idyllic so far, but those of you who know my Mistress or have followed this diary know that her slaves enjoyment could not possibly be restricted to these 'normal' pastimes. The day started almost normally. I stripped off and stood in front of my owner, as naked as the day I was born and set about some serious boot worship. Mistress said she had promised to whip me and whip me she would, meanwhile I was to continue with my boot worship while she raised and wielded her floggers' many tails. I couldn't recall having done anything to warrant such an onslaught but knew to accept a reddened arse without complaints because Maggie is in charge and owns the property rights.

It turns out that I had attempted to help others join my Mistress in slavery (part of my promise to my Mistress), by directing a gentleman into Maggie's tender care without realising he was across the North Sea and not readily able to travel. But, apparently he can e-mail and after what must have been a friendly exchange with Maggie she had promised him that I would receive a good thrashing for my stupidity. That is why I was now ass up infront of Mistress feeling her whip. I shall not dwell on the trials and tribulations of helping lost souls . . .

The last time I came along for my session, Maggie had successfully fitted my new butt plug, Big Red, but it had slipped out again very soon after. Maggie said that Big Red needed more help at becoming properly seated in my arsehole and would be taking the trip to Blackpool inside me. I was fitted with a very tight belt and crotch strap that would hopefully keep Big Red in place for the big rides later on. With the straps dangling Mistress led me to the White Room, where I was introduced to the newly acquired medical couch that Mistress had so proudly taken delivery of only a few days before.

Reclining and strapped down on the new couch I was  given a demonstration of a few of its magical abilities. Three buttons and electric motors everywhere, but despite all the bells and whistles I could detect a note of sadness in Mistresses voice towards the old couch that had served her well over the previous five years. But onwards and upwards and I had the first ride of the day. Click - tilt backwards click, forwards. Click - up and down. Click - recline. It was certainly versatile and would help my owner to position her slaves accurately for whatever activities were to happen but I must admit, I too had a tinge of nostalgia for the old faithful black and white couch, ousted by the all singing all dancing grey interloper. I thought for a moment this may be a sign of things to come for this old, well worn but faithful slave. Anyway, the leather crotch strap was tightened and Big Red held firm. We shouldn't have any trouble with its escape.

All was well during the drive to our destination. Big Red stayed under control, my outer casuals hiding the fact I had a huge plug securely strapped in place. That didn't last long. The next 'drive' was oh so very different; very hilly, the car and passengers all over the place, very tight corners, speeds that would make your hair curl, and all having the effect of giving Big Red a thrilling ride round my bum hole until I was finally able to get my feet back on firm ground.

As we disembarked our carriages I could feel movement down below and had to rush or rather waddle to the nearest toilets, before my Big Red friend made its way down my trouser leg and smiled at some innocent passer by. With all the roller coasting movement on the Big One, the centre strap had moved sufficiently to allow Big Red to escape. Well it had taken a hair raising, death defying ride to dislodge the butt plug and I was reasonably satisfied that my bum could accommodate BR in 'normal' circumstances.

Flushed with adrenalin from the Big One ride, I agreed to my owners suggestion that a sail in Valhalla was an excellent 'follow up' adventure. Mind you, I agree to everything my Mistress suggests; that is just the way of the world. Nor had she forgotten to bring along her retractable whip for punishing anyone who fails to comply. Signs do warn you that you may get wet, so not being dressed in our latex today we all invested in plastic ponchos. What a rip off, two quid for a large plastic bag. I did my best to get into mine, it makes a change from Mistress inserting me in one, although certainly not as rewarding or for that matter as water tight!

Off we sailed taking in some very hot, windy and wet moments as the ride progressed. All was almost dry until the first major waterfall. I was sat with Maggie and the deluge cascaded over both our plastic covered heads. Maggie still dry, me very wet. That didn't last long either. By the end of the ride we were all very wet indeed, although despite John being in the front seat, he came out the dryest. It was a good job it was a warm day as we all dried quickly as we spun through the air on the Space Ships ride!

Anyway, by this time, I was in need of a drink and Mistress had that covered too. I must have mentioned that Mistress is meticulous in her planning? Well, diving into her trusty handbag, which by now was rather damp having been waterlogged on Valhalla, she brought out a drinking cup. Judging by the pale golden hue of the contents, it was either diluted orange or something far more tasty. I sipped slowly and wondered what our fellow travellers would have made of three friends casually enjoying themselves with one drinking his owners pee whilst wearing my slave collar. The collar had already attracted a few surreptitious glances but I suspect the pee pot went unnoticed.

All I know was, on this very warm day, it was cool, very refreshing and tasting of my Mistress. I was at that stage very happy and very relaxed. On the way back to Chambers, we stopped at a chippy and ate a hearty plate of fish, chips mushy peas etc, chatted away and by then I was somewhat relieved that BR had escaped. I was still aware of the tight harness under my civilian clothes, the crotch strap was a little looser but nevertheless acted as a constant reminder as to who owned me.

Back in The Clinic there were two final surprises that Mistress had planned for her slave. The first was birthday candles to celebrate the special day. If I am honest, I didn't expect my balls to be the cake but there again, Mistress always has a flair for the unusual.

I received my second ride on the electric gynae chair, accompanied by a suitable amount of aromas to help ease any pain as seven or eight needles were inserted in my 'cake'. Thank goodness it wasn't one for each year! Maggie had already tightened my cock and balls to what I assumed was the bondage board, her cord ties keeping my throbbing organ securely where she wanted it. Not too tight but enough to keep it on the straight and narrow. I could feel some other strange sensations but couldn't see what was happening, but I did hear the click click of a lighter and tensed as I got a whiff of fresh candle wax, burning fresh candle wax!

I thought now might be a good time to beg for more medicine, to take more deep breaths of aroma and to try to keep very still. There is only so long that you can fend off the inevitable and eventually I was feeling the hot wax dribbling across my hot balls. Mistress kept me moaning for several minutes and was really enjoying the celebrations. Blowing out the candles she commented on how she was happy to be burning my balls, but making them burn low enough to set light to her plastic equipment was taking things a bit too far.

Laying flat and with little visibility of my burning cake other than the lashing flames, I was curious how Mistress had managed to attach the candles without me feeling any discomfort. It turns out she had specially shaped each candle base so that it would fit into the end of the medical grade needles. I told you, Mistress thinks of everything. A water bucket had also been strategically placed near the burning candles 'just in case'.

Speaking of forward planning, I see from the photos that The bondage board had been discreetly covered in surgical tape just where any wax run off may have spilled, so as to minimise damage to its surface. I wish she had done that with my cock and balls!

And so to the second surprise. A second ride of the day on another big one. Mistress donned her larger dildo and proceeded to mount her slave with the biggest thing I have ever had stuffed up my bum. The motors were put into operation; click - tilt, click up, click down went the chair, until Maggie had the right angle of attack. Finally the big one slid home providing her slave with yet another wild and thrilling pleasure trip.

Removing her large used dildo, Mistress announced that she needed the toilet and instructed me to await her return. Not difficult as I was strapped and shackled to the new chair, but not for long. On her return I was instructed onto my knees and use my tongue to make sure her arsehole was clean. More use of the electric motors as Mistress knelt on the chair to produce a no nonsense angle for her arse licking slave, and even though I say so myself, I did a really good job and enjoyed the task immensely. Perhaps there is a use for this older model slave in this new world after all?

I would like to thank both Mistress Maggie and her husband, John, for their kindness in taking me out for one helluva memorable birthday present.

Bucking Bronco

‘Your rubber clad Mistress will be teaching you many ways of using leather’, is what I had been advised in my pre-session mail.

The moment Mistress Maggie opened the Chambers’ front door, the first part of her calling notice was wonderfully evident and had me enchanted once again. Mistress had decided on the remarkable catsuit and corset combination that both accentuated her stunning figure yet rendered her completely untouchable. However, the tactile nature of the wonderful material was made available for the shortest of moments as Mistress paused at the top of the stairs to allow her slave to move my hands across her latex covered rear. I have fought this urge every time I have followed that stunning sculptured derrière and now Mistress was treating her slave to another unexpected delight.

I was happy as we entered the Chambers. I was happy when Mistress told me go to the bathroom, to strip naked and return wearing only my slave collar. I have no inhibitions in front of my owner and complied immediately. I was happy when Mistress selected an appropriate rubber hood for her slave, then took a length of red rope and bound my wrists securely in front; was happy when Mistress gagged me and instructed me to lean against the wall, legs apart, forehead on my tied arms. I was happy when Mistress softly whipped my buttocks, using one of her many floggers to begin teaching me the many ways she uses her leather.

The whipping lasted for some considerable time, Mistress changing her whip to give her slave a taste of their many different leathery sounds and sensations, the strokes getting steadily harder. But for the moment that rhythmic swish crack was gently warming my arse cheeks and an occasional flick of its tails perfectly aimed between my legs to lightly strike my testicles.

Altogether, I was learning that Maggie had quite a few leather whips that I had never encountered and could wield each one in a way that equalled its weight. My back and rump were receiving their share of her delivery in equal measure. I felt happy when Mistress put her arms around her slave and moved her rubber glove across the marks she was making. I was even moderately happy when Mistress upped the anti and had me take a severe leather whip to increase my leather experience, Mistress continued to take short blasts with the heavy flogger until I became strained with the exertion, holding my stance to please my Mistress was becoming difficult and my legs were trembling.

Then I got really concerned as, alongside my trembling leg, I saw the business end of a red leather bull whip as it snaked across the floor. Mistress had spotted that I was starting to sag but offered no respite, instead she suggested I stand facing her, back against the wall until I couldn’t retreat any further. A few light range finders with the whip and then excruciating pain as she found exactly the right swing, range and angles to land the whip first on one nipple then the other, I must have taken around a dozen of these. Be advised, that bullwhip really does sting, but even if I had somewhere to hide I was determined to take the whip because Mistress wanted me to. This slave can now humbly say that I am no virgin when it comes to taking a proper prolonged flogging.

Maggie declared that now I’d had my fun and she had invested considerable effort for her slave, she needed to be pampered with pleasurable attentions. We adjourned to the Clinic and there was no more leather for a while. I was to receive the privilege once again of giving my Mistress a pedicure. I love being allowed to perform this service and I know Mistress appreciates the feeling of softness after my ministrations. Maggie reclined and relaxed on the couch and the only leather content was me gently removing her leather footwear. I must say I was mesmerised by Mistress relaxing there, the tight latex still covering her body barely inches from my face. As I said, so beautiful yet so perfectly protected, not that Mistress needs protection from her slave. I am a red blooded male but first and foremost I am my Mistresses trained rubber slave; I may gaze lovingly but DON'T touch unless instructed otherwise. So I set about filing first one foot then the other, asking occasionally if Mistress was satisfied with the progress.

Mistress sounded like she purred when she said she enjoyed my efforts, each smoothed foot then needed to be kissed and licked just to be sure, and finally gently soothed with foot lotion, but - ‘not between the toes slave’. This slave also discovered a magical spot on one of her feet which when touched sent Maggie off into involuntary fits of laughter. Mistresses leather ankle boots were carefully replaced and our sojourn in the Clinic had come to an end. Reminder to ask Mistress for new emery boards if she allows me future pedicure privileges.

We have been considering that I should receive a guiche piercing and it was my turn to jump up on the couch where Mistress took a few measurements, drew a line where she wished the jewellery to sit and took a photo to show the exact location when we attend for the piercing. Perhaps, next time you may be treated to a viewing?

Back in the Playroom, Maggie helped me into my heavy black rubber suit. A new pair of zipped gloves had arrived for me and I had chance to try them on with my suit this time; a good plan and they fitted perfectly and zipped up easily. One tight fitting layer was not enough for Maggie and I was about to receive a second lesson in the use of leather. She brought down the very heavy leather bondage suit from its resting place on the cell door and feet first I was squeezed inside it. Once my arms were secure inside the internal arm sheaths there was little I could do to help incarcerate myself, relying on my Mistress to pull it over my shoulders and zip me in. My feet were left unrestrained, ‘so you can shuffle around when instructed slave’.

Even without the laces fully cinched in and tightened, it is heavy, hot and restrictive inside the double layers of the leather sleep-sack, and made all the more tighter by liberal use of stout leather straps, these were hoisted tight producing a very satisfactory, safe and immovable status for this slave to find myself in. I was briefly tethered in a standing position in a way I could gently sway like a skittle without toppling.

My hood was exchanged for an unusual looking gas mask and I was given instruction. I was to shuffle forward to the repositioned horse where Maggie guided me into a bending position along it. The horse rocked and creaked as it took my considerable weight along its back. My situation became clearer as Mistress said she wanted to explore features and benefits of the leather bondage sack that had not been previously explored. It seemed that something unusual and exciting was afoot as Mistress placed her hand over the gasmask filter and I received the first of many strong inhalations of aromas.

Strange I thought, as Mistress normally uses her medicine for anal relaxation in preparation for mounting her slave, but trussed up inside this secure leather seemed an odd way to access my backside. Maggie clarified exactly what she was going to do next. ‘Right slave, now I have you where I want you I wish to find out whether this rear zip serves any useful function, today I will be fucking your ass while you remain incarcerated in the bag’.

The leather bondage bag has unseen treasures and one of them is the rear zip that Maggie mentioned. It was slowly forced up exposing my severely confined arse to a cooler draft, same with my catsuit. This looked like another fun situation Maggie had engineered for her slave. I, of course had no say in the matter nor could I move inside the tight leather as Mistress thoroughly lubed up my arse, attached her strap on and moved into position. Another sight of Maggie’s hand over my filter and we were off on the ride of our lives. The aromas and lube had worked their magic as the dildo found its mark. I think Mistress was delighted and really started humping my leather covered rear, helped by encouraging slaps across my leather rear.

The horse was going well, it was rocking with the ride and making galloping sounds now. Maggie was definitely more than a little excited by her success with her new found access and her thrusting increased, I moaned and was delighted my Mistress was once more taking me this way and also appearing to be having a wonderful time.

. . . CRACK . . . The extra effort Maggie was putting into my arse was transmitted to the horse and I could literally feel the earth move for me and Maggie. Naturally Mistress stopped. ‘What was that slave?’. I mumbled through the gas mask that I thought it was a front leg or maybe this horse really was a bucking bronco! Maggie dismounted, investigated and agreed we should play safe and ease myself off the horse. At first I moved slowly as I was a little unsteady from both the knee trembling and the aroma, but when there was a further loud creak from the horse I have never moved so fast and stood upright instantly in my leather cocoon.

In went the butt plug and I was instructed to hobble to the cage where I was firmly strapped to the bars for Mistress to reveal a further secret of the leather bag. It’s nipple flaps were ripped away to be replaced with biting clamps, the clamps would not normally hurt too bad, but were being fixed in the same places where Maggie's earlier ministrations with her bullwhip had already bitten. Is there no end to the secrets of this Black Magic suit? My breathing became severely restricted by Mistresses choice of hood, having only a series of narrow tubes to take in air, and this is how I was left. My nipples hurt, but through the mask perforations, I could catch glimpses of my stunning owner as she went about making her playroom neat and tidy, giving her pathetic slave an occasional passing tweak of the pegs and a radiant, lovely smile. 

To conclude the session I was finally released from the leather and told to take a seat on the awaiting bondage chair. I was in desperate need of a drink and on queue, Mistress set up my feeding station. Nothing so simple as a nice tube attached to Mistress, I had to be more ingenious to receive my liquid refreshment.

I was secured, and with the pinwheel adjusted on my posture collar, my chin was pointing skywards. A strange glass dropper arrangement was suspended just over my head, its contents a familiar light amber colour. The idea was, that with a little effort I would be able to catch the droplets of nectar and satisfy my thirst. 'How about a little blindfold to make life more interesting slave?'

I must admit to being a little mischievous, as I’d worked out that by rocking the chair I could get my mouth in the ideal position to catch most of my drink without taking punishment from the nasty chin spike. I could hear the concern in Maggie's voice as she thought I was going to tip the chair over backwards, reminding me that ‘there aren't any supporting chains this time’. No doubt when Mistress reads my blog she may smile at my ingenuity at rocking the chair, but I will ultimately get into trouble for my mischief.

I was soaked by the time I arrived at the ideal position and it was a good job that Mistress had a full bladder, as quite a lot of pee ended up in my hair, down my back, trickling down the inside of my suit, in fact all over me and I loved every minute of every drop. The plastic bag that Mistress fastened me in for the final act, steamed up quickly with both my breath and the warm pee residues, leading to a particularly sultry and lengthy breathplay scene.

At last Mistress investigated the horse and the relief in her voice was audible when she declared that the securing nuts holding the legs had worked loose; hardly surprising after fifteen years of hard use and its most recent pummelling. A few turns of the wing nuts once more had the bucking horse less likely to give her a heart attack. We were able to laugh about the situation afterwards as we both imagined the horse collapsing, ending up in a heap and Maggie still firmly reaming my arse with her strap-on.

One thing remains certain, I will always try to endure everything and anything Mistress Maggie asks of me. After all, that is the promise I made when I vowed to be one of my Mistresses loyal followers. I was allowed a wonderfully relaxing bath after our taxing session and I know I have the most caring and thoughtful Mistress that I could ever wish for. Long may she reign.