What a Wanker!

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Leather Bondage

Despite always trying to give 100% to please my Mistress, I seem to often get things wrong, and today I was really in her bad books. I had misunderstood some instructions that Mistress Maggie had given me and ended up creating unnecessary work for her, not good as Maggie already had an extremely busy week with little time to spare. I hoped that I could redeem myself, but there is always a consequence for poor work and so it emerged in my calling mail . . . Mistress is ready to administer some strict leather and discipline. It will be horizontal stripes aplenty . . . 

I was to receive a caning, cropping, tawsing or something similar to encourage better attention. I thought it might be a good idea to save Mistress some time and arrive wearing my butt plug, and wear my latex socks in an attempt to please her. The moment I entered, Maggie snapped a lead on my slave collar and marched me upstairs. Perhaps Maggie did have a heart and she appreciated my attempts to ingratiate myself.

None of it. I was slapped, hard, several times and sent to the bathroom, this time to remove the socks and butt plug and return to the playroom wearing nothing rubber at all. In the bathroom there was a note taped to the wall.

It was quite clear. 20 strokes of the cane. My heart sank because I knew there was no changing the course of my punishment. Maggie had decided twenty and twenty I would receive, but before the formalities, Mistress was going to have a bit of fun with her slave. I was ordered to demonstrate how I’d inserted my plug at home, and was pleased that I managed to contort myself in a way that I could slip it in easily. Yes, and it slipped out again just as easily as Maggie promptly pulled it out of my ass and reinserted it the way 'she likes to do it'.

I was allowed a tight latex hood, which I was to wear for worship of Mistresses high heeled leather thigh boots, then while my tongue was still out Maggie suggested I might like to put it to work making something that was perfect even more perfect. She eased down her tight black leather trousers then her briefs, leaned over the whipping horse and tugged on my leash, forcing my nose right between her bum cheeks, I licked and sucked and licked and cleaned Mistresses arse hole until it shone. It was not enough, Maggie said I should learn what it’s like to be busy and should lick her arse faster and faster. Actually when I was finally told to stop Mistresses arse hole did shine with all my saliva, and at last Maggie said I had made an adequate job with my licking.

It was now my time over the horse but I was to be tied down so I couldn't move. Maggie asked if I had worked out how many strokes I would be receiving and laughed saying that she’d given a big hint in my calling mail - ’Stripes aplenty ...' rhymes with twenty!  I just smiled and thought of Rule 13: Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times.

At least, the routine for a caning punishment is well established. A good five minutes hand slaps as warm up then change to the cane. Tap tap tap to gauge range, a couple of swishes, maybe a couple more range finders then THWACK followed by searing pain as the cane bites. A few moments to let me catch my breath, then swish tap tap THWACK. 

At 15 strokes Maggie asked how many. Don't make the mistake of not counting. ’15 Mistress’, I said confidently and it suddenly got easier. 16, 17, 18, 19 and finally 20. Remembering my earlier punishment, I very rapidly said ‘Thank you Mistress for helping to correct my failures’. At least I didn't earn another 20!. 

20 horizontal and perfectly parallel, symmetrical wheals that are still tender after three days. You can also just see more results of my carelessness on the floor. Talcum powder from my socks formed neat highlights at each footfall. I had to clean that up as well but not until Maggie had removed my plug and replaced it with a pumped up double bardex, just in case . . .

I must admit, it must be quite amusing for Mistress to witness her slave waddling around with the bulb knocking between my knees. I was just relieved to be told to replace the flogging horse back in its position beneath the window. Then I set about attacking my footsteps with a damp towel. That bit at least pleased my Mistress as all the talc prints disappeared.

Formalities over, Maggie was now going to convert me into a leather object by incarcerating her slave inside her leather sleep sack. My tight latex hood was replaced with the even tighter pewter inflatable one; a very comfortable model with sealed plastic lenses and breathing tube. Maggie chose to keep it deflated while she helped me inch myself into the heavy leather sleep suit. There are internal arm pockets and once zipped, laced and tightly strapped in I was in danger of falling over. Mistress, as you would expect, had thought of that and strapped me securely to the bars of the cell before fitting my head into a leather head cage. 

The head cage was a bit of a struggle for Maggie due to my height, but eventually I heard the click as the two halves fastened in place and its neck strap fixed with a buckle. A bulb pump was used to inflate my hood and as the hood inflated, given the restraints of the head cage there was only one way the pressure could go, inwards, making my face feel like it was in concrete. As added security, Mistress secured a stout chain through the shoulder straps and over the top bar of the cell door. Even if I wanted to I could not collapse in a heap on the floor.

Every now and then, Maggie appeared in my very limited field of vision, I could just make out through the misted perspex eye pieces that very disarming smile as she poked her finger in the end of the breathing tube to restrict my air supply. What could I do? Absolutely nothing, so I just thought of Maggie and hoped she got her finger out before I ran out of air. She did, but this was an intense hooding and breathplay experience, the simple act of gasping for available air was exerting, as I said, my head felt like it was cast in concrete, the pressure from the inflated hood prevented any facial movement and my mouth remained closed and clamped around my mouth tube.

I only got a small taste of this unique hooding sensation as Maggie had other plans for her leather object and after a little more breath control Maggie deflated the hood. At last I could take a large welcome gasp of air and check if I was able to still move my jaw.

The discreet entrances at cock and nipples were opened and Maggie attached a cock strap and reins at the bottom end and rather severe screw on nipple clamps at the top openings. Maggie had been toying with the idea of administering an enema through the bardex, but fortunately for me the bulb had managed to move into an unreachable position, so Maggie was satisfied with sitting on her throne and pulling on the cock strap, waggling the ropes until it came off. The cock strap not the cock! Although by now I was close to my cock cumming off.

The last vestiges of rubber were removed as my hood was replaced with a padded leather isolation hood. Comfy but all enveloping and impossible to see through. I was now exactly what Mistress had set out to achieve; her leather play slave.

To make matters even more leathery, Maggie gently eased her delicious leather covered buttocks against my groin and I just made out through the heavy hood her asking me a question.

‘Do you like leather slave?’.

Of course I love leather, Mistress had already told me I love leather. My easy reply, ‘Oh yes Mistress’.

'Then you can fuck my leather clothes slave’

As I thrust my groin against her leather clad body, Maggie persisted with her teasing. Nipples were still available and received the most sensual nibbling and biting a slave could ever dream of. The warm lips first on one nipple then the other, then the biting teeth nibbling a nipple and her leather glove covering my tiny air holes.

It was now that I realised why Maggie had attached the steel chain. I just sagged with the pure sensations that Mistress had created in her leathery toy. When she finally cropped the end of my cock and instructed me to cum. I came. Maggie saw and Maggie conquered. A well satiated slave who will continue to do anything for his Mistress.

This leather sleep sack is one helluva piece of equipment, but then again Mistress Maggie is one helluva Mistress.

Pain and the Edge

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Hard Session in the Playroom

Every now and then Mistress Maggie designs a session that really tests her slaves resilience and staying power. Individual exercises can look innocuous, but when you string them together, you get a real work out. Today's session was just that. I was knackered towards the end of my exercises to the extent that Maggie enquired if I was all right. Oh yes. I might have looked clapped out but emotionally and mentally I was right there, and the feeling after the ordeal was one of inner peace and adoration for the perfect Mistress.

The calling mail totally confused me '. . . I am looking forward to climbing into some rubber too and engaging in more than a spot of titillation, while I dominate your erogenous zones you have a more simpler job of keeping a lookout for Mistress. . .' I spent quite a lot of the 24 hours between mail and session trying to work out Maggie's thinking and how best I could help my Mistress have a happy session. I eventually gave up because I knew that whatever Maggie was planning would inevitably have hidden surprises and new experiences.

Mistress sat relaxed on her throne as I conducted worship of her already shining shoes, with my backside ominously in the air and well within range of Maggie’s extended crop, which she occasionally flicked at me, not enough to cause pain, just enough to tease and excite. ’On your back now slave’ I was ordered onto my back with with my head looking up at Maggie's gorgeous thighs; a position that brought my nipples in play range of the long stiletto heels that I had been worshipping, and that is just what Mistress proceeded to do. Gently placing each heel in turn on those most sensitive of nipple spots, wriggling her heel tips in and applying more and more tenderising pressure. That really started to take my breath away, but not as much as my fabulous view. I was able to gaze at the back of the most anatomically perfect pair of thighs that you could wish

for, the very tops being teasingly covered by Maggie's black latex mini dress and the sheerest pair of tan tights. The intense pain didn't seem too bad as occasionally I caught a glimpse of my smiling Mistress through that little v-shaped gap at the top of that perfect matched pair of legs. At last, Maggie once again sat cross-legged and satisfied, my nipples were already tender and I was prepared for anything Maggie wished of me.

What a magical change in sensations as Maggie now helped me into some heavy-weight latex. I get the impression that it’s not just me that gets pleasure from this activity as I am squeezed, pulled pushed and coaxed into my catsuit, then hung up by the rafter ring for latex polishing. Gag to reduce moans, blindfold to stop spray and Mistress is perfectly happy for 10 minutes or so polishing, teasing, stroking and generally fussing over her rubbered slave. And me? - I’m naturally more than happy as the soft cloth moves over my latex skin and even softer hands get to places cloths and hands don't normally polish. I love this activity, and fortunately for me it is a regular and very welcome part of my training.

So far my session seemed to involve a lot of changing sensations, and the next one included the novel application of the Playroom stocks. I have experienced this item before and it is bloody heavy! Today they were hung from the overhead gantry by four stout chains. Seated on the low punishment bench I had my legs hitched to a spreader bar, head clamped in the stocks, wrists strapped to the eyelets, and the whole lot gradually lifted until I was truly stretched with my chin firmly in the grips of the padded neck hole.

It's clear that it was intended to be a challenging bondage position, and I definitely was not comfortable. I should have mentioned it to Mistress there and then, Maggie does not compromise on mercy when it counts, and a little adjustment would have made all the difference. But I was so eager to please Mistress that I ignored my nagging discomfort. It had also dawned on me that the stocks were now in a perfect position to act as a platform for Maggie to sit on, with her stockinged covered private parts only inches, or even millimetres from my pinioned mouth if she chose, and I selfishly did not want to miss out on an experience like that. So I said nothing.

Then out came the huge roll of playroom clingfilm, not on its own, Mistress was carrying it! A roll of that heavy weight industrial type that hisses as it leaves the roll. Maggie peeled off a three foot length but the wrap was not playing. It wafted up and instead of attaching round my head, attached itself firmly to Maggie's latex gloves. Unperturbed, off came the gloves, another piece hissed off the roll and this time 'take a deep breath slave’, a single layer was pulled tightly over my features and secured at the back. I was securely head wrapped. Mistress stood back, looked at her plasticised slave and smiled, I tried to reciprocate but my lips were now rendered immobile. Mistress moved her fingertips across the squeaky plastic before poking one of her sharp finger nails through my mouth covering. I was able to sit there as Maggie started to tease me once more, standing on the bench moving her hips tantalisingly close to my freed mouth, but the wall of the stocks maintained just that right, frustrating out of bounds distance to prevent me from accessing that tights covered area that a slave can only dream about.

Then it happened and oh what a useless, stupid slave I was. The legs cramped, hip joints started creaking and I had to beg release. Bother and damn, just when this was getting extremely interesting and another new experience about to be delivered. Maggie, attuned to her slaves wellbeing removed the stocks and told me to do what I had to do to make the cramp go away. I knew that I had spoiled what could have been a great scene, disappointed Mistress and boy had I disappointed myself!

Oh well, it was back to the tried and tested method for Maggie and out came the plastic bag. I must say, as I struggle for air, I can gaze at Mistress and know that she is enjoying herself. If I'm lucky I get the occasional brush of lips through the plastic, and I always try that little bit harder to last that little bit longer before begging for air.

Not to be denied more of her own fun, Maggie fitted me into the full rubber System mask with inflatable gag included. You may recall that last time, I managed 5 minutes before asking for release. This time, Maggie had cleverly modified the zip to give an extra centimetre or so to her mask, and it fitted like a glove. Snug, comfortable and those 5 minutes could easily be extended to 5 hours, it was that comfortable. However five hours was ruled out by Maggie attaching two nipple clamps with weights suspended over the gantry, I was once more forced to sit very erect and upright and Mistress appeared happy that her slave was going to experience some serious nippling.

Mistresses imagination really has no bounds as she tormented me, floating in and out of my limited vision, giving the weights a tug, or setting the suspension frame swaying as she stood on the low bench right in front of my goggled eyes taunting her slave. Maggie also occasionally used a feather on my now very sensitive nipples. Those innocuous little clamps were making their presence felt, I almost screamed as the feather gently caressed my over sensitive nips. I didn't though, as the gag reminded me to be silent and I had already created too much disappointment today.

Mistress then began adding breathing tubes to the front of my mask, the two corrugated tubes were carefully screwed into position, at their tip a small perforated dildo. That wasn't going to be used on me as I remained seated, but Maggie had somewhere suitable to put it and sensually lubed the little invader, then lubed herself and proceeded to frequently stop me breathing. The heady mix of pain, panting and pleasure went on for a while, as the little rubber pleasurer was gently nested right in front of her goggle eyed slave. Oh I do love that system mask and the results a little black rubber attachment can achieve on Mistress, in the right hands of course.

By this time, I was warming up inside the heavy suit, and once the system mask had been stripped away Mistress insisted that I would take her for a ride round her property, so things got even hotter. Maggie, thoughtful as ever, insisted I don a pair of Playroom knee pads, jumped on my back and 'encouraged' me to walk on. She kept on referring to me as Mr Ed and singing something along the lines of  'A horse is a horse of course, of course and no one can talk to a horse of course. . .'  Mistress does have an eclectic choice of songs in her repertoire! I know with my ample girth that Maggie's legs and thighs would stick out and when we arrived at doorways I was straining every sinew to make sure I didn't damage my very valuable rider. 

Four doorways, a walk round the upper floors of the estate and by the time we returned to the Playroom, I was gasping and grunting like Delaney's Donkey. Had I been a proper horse, a trip to the knackers yard would have been called for, as it was, Maggie reminded me what a useless slave I can be at times and ordered me to ‘dip’ so she could dismount gracefully.

I was then led through to the Clinic for a little 'help' with my recovery. I was fitted with another gas mask now and the ‘help' came in the form of an electro butt plug, my trusty black plug was eased out and the electro plug pushed in, all wired up to appropriately placed cock electrodes, the whole lot attached to Maggie's little black box and an appropriate rhythm programmed. There was a smile in Maggie's voice as she stood back to admire her handy work, then instructed me to carefully dismount from the couch and return to the Playroom.

This was another new experience. I have received e-stim and thoroughly enjoyed the stationary sensations but I have never experienced walking and moving around with a bipolar e-stim throbbing away between my legs. Mistress would carry the box and guide the wires, I just had to waddle through and make sure I didn't snag anything and constantly feed back to Mistress that 'Yes I am still receiiiiiiiving the signalllllllls!’

By now I was absolutely knackered. The nipple torture had affected me more than in the past and coupled with the physical exertions of being hung up, sat on, ridden round the establishment and now my cock and balls dancing to their own tune, I knew I was approaching my physical limits. Maggie knew this but also knew I was mentally still owned and ready for anything else she wished to do so long as it was a little less physical.

And altogether gentler it was and another change in the emotional status as she tucked me up in the big latex covered Playroom bed, limbs tethered with white rope to each corner. My electrics were still working as Maggie pulled her rubber gloves on, and her matching gasmask, and looking gorgeous in her rubber dress began slithering on top of her rubbered slave. An absolute treat for a rubber fetishist. If you look through my misted gas mask goggles you may be able to detect that inner peace that is achieved by a good physical and emotional workout. Had we had the time, I could have happily gone to sleep in the sure knowledge that I was safe in the hands of a friend and totally owned by the most exceptional Mistress.

When Mistress Maggie sent me the photos to accompany my blog she asked '. . . Truly though slave, I do hope that I didn’t totally wear you out on Friday. . .' . I was physically knackered, emotionally on a high and already ready to go back for more training, although I may need a couple more days for nipples to recover. Mistress I am yours to wear out as much as you want.

With my Little Stick of Blackpool Rock

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