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.

To the Woods

Ode to my Mistress; Mistress Maggie.

If you go down in the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise.

If you go down in the woods today, you'd better go in disguise;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day that Mistress has her picnic.

Every Yorkie dog who's been good is sure of a treat today.

There's lots of marvellous things to eat and wonderful games to play.

Beneath the trees where nobody sees they'll hide and seek as long as they please

For that's the way latex bears have their picnic.

Picnic time for rubber dogs

The rubber dogs are having a lovely time today

Watch them, catch them unawares and see them picnic on their holiday.

See him gaily gad about.

They love to play and shout.

They never have any cares.

At three o'clock their mummies and daddies will take them back home to bed

Because I'm a tired little doggy bear.

If you go down in the woods today, you better not go alone.

It's lovely down in the woods today, but safer to stay at home;

For every dog that ever there was will gather there for certain because

Today's the day the rubber dogs have their picnic.

It had been far too long since my previous session, when Mistress Maggie mailed me to remind me that the four year anniversary of my fortunate entry into her slave training program was upon us. As you would expect from a caring Mistress, she thoughtfully asked how I would like to celebrate. There was only ever one answer that I could make, and I e-mailed back saying I would like her to choose from her 'bucket' one of the activities she wanted to perform before it was too late.

Four days before our next scheduled session I received this rather exciting e-mail:

" . . . Fridays training time has been amended to 1pm.

I recommend that you do some private reading in preparation for Friday. Be a good dog and recap on your obedience and discipline training as practised in session 75, 16 Jan 2015. . ."

I had four whole days to bone up on the aforementioned session, and the night before Mistress reminded me with:

". . . You are required to assist your Mistress with an outdoor fantasy adventure, your job to drive me to a secret location where dogs are allowed to walk. The temperature may be a little cool but the forecast is for fine weather. You will be required to take on the characteristics of a dog, albeit a rubber one, and with further instruction partake in exercise and disciplines as suits a well behaved canine. . ."



My Playroom training in the following disciplines were thoroughly tested on our walk and I was expected to complete -

 Walk smartly to heel

 Stay on command

 Run and retrieve a thrown object
 Jump for an object

 Come when called

 Rest quietly at Mistresses feet

The pictures speak for themselves and can only give a limited impression of what a fantastic afternoon we were able to enjoy. There were one or two special moments. I really delighted Maggie and photographer husband John when I returned the yellow 'fetch' ring cradled in a paw; they both thought that I wouldn't be able to retrieve the ring but I was determined to make it happen, and when I was sitting next to my Mistress with my snout gently cradled in the lap of her rather gorgeous rubber coat.

We were fortunate that the location is VERY secluded, but what would anyone have thought who came across the three of us? Quite frankly, I didn't care. We were out enjoying the autumnal weather, everything decent (apart from maybe when Mistress Maggie was fixing my butt plug tail), and it was a Mistress/friend and her dog out to play taking a few excellent photos.

We returned to the Chambers, a cup of coffee later we finished an excellent anniversary bash with some impromptu action. That in itself is worth a read but I will be reporting on that shortly.

Finally, I would like to thank Maggie's husband John for turning out on a coolish but dry autumn afternoon and taking the excellent photographs despite the remnants of a cold. Thanks John.

What a Wanker!

What a wanker. When I said I was home alone for the week, and Mistress Maggie replied with  'I’m not sure you should be allowed that much freedom',  I thought she was hinting at sending me home in a chastity device. That is not how the session had been planned and I deeply regret having masturbated twice in the 24 hours before our session. It is certainly not an activity I normally do and my only aim was to provide a less unruly cock for Maggie's chastity cage. I don't think Mistress was at all pleased that I had been playing with her property without her consent and I shan't be doing that again in a hurry!

What a fabulous start. I was beckoned inside by a stunning Mistress in a very tight black and red latex leotard, shiny black leggings and flame red ankle boots, and given a very heart warming hug and welcome kiss. As I followed Maggie up the stairs I was fixated, as I often am, by her perfectly formed, latex covered orbs undulating right in front of my bulging eyes. So much so that it was only when I paid homage to Maggie's red boots that I noticed the stunning red ribbon lacing up the rear of her shiny pants. Mistress laughed as she confirmed that those very same red ribbon laces were there when I climbed the stairs. Fortunately she knows I worship her bottom and that would excuse my poor peripheral vision. 

With the formal program briefing delivered and agreed, I was eased into the tight, heavy black rubber catsuit and Maggie strapped me tightly into a leather waist corset. Perhaps Mistress was going to strap me into the latex sheeted Playroom bed and leave me to sleep: For a fleeting moment, that sounded so inviting. However, reality kicked in and I realised it was a definite non starter as Maggie does not entertain overnight slaves. Instead Maggie hooked her finger through my collar ring and guided me towards the door saying we would be visiting the Clinic. I thought I would be helpful by opening the Playroom door. Wrong again. I really wasn't doing too well in the anticipation stakes. Instead Mistress placed my nose against the red Playroom door and barked ‘Stay’. And stay I did for as long as Maggie needed to ready herself. I heard that familiar rustle as a plastic bag was eased over my head, tightened at the neck and used to lead this bagged slave to the Clinic.

Target for strap-on

I had no air whatsoever as Maggie pinioned me against the wall, she told me rather unconvincingly that I had plenty of air and should let her know when it had ALL run out. I might have, but that damned plastic had sealed firmly across mouth and nose and couldn't breath in or out. Fortunately it was obvious that I had no air at all. 

With the system mask fitted I was to lie on the couch with my legs wide open. Mistress really does know her slave, and how, despite 89 sessions, I still cannot fully control my hands from trying to caress those tempting latex covered orbs. Maggie used the leather mitts and wrist cuffs to help her slave, my hands were quickly locked well out of the way of any temptation and my treatment was underway.

An anal examination first. A single finger was inserted, and some lube, then a long whiff of aroma to ease the passage and Mistress eased her strap-on dildo inside. A steady, very nice fuck being the outcome.

The void as Mistresses strap-on was withdrawn was filled with an inflatable vibrating butt plug, pumped up, not too tight, and set to 'On’, and I lay there buzzing while Maggie busily moved around me, adding numerous leather straps and making sure I was securely strapped down on the gynae table.

A small operation followed to assess the size of my cock passage. I couldn’t see, but I certainly could feel a series of cold instruments being inserted down my cock, as Maggie tested my size with chilled pyrex sounds, each one being slightly larger than the previous. I could actually feel the butt-plug vibrations going outwards from the fully inserted sound. Yet another sensation Mistress has introduced to her property.

Clamped catheter

I am one of the luckiest slaves alive being lavished with all this luxury treatment, although I could only manage to moan my appreciation on this occasion, as the system gag had been fitted and inflated.

The goodies just keep on flowing as did my pee when Maggie followed the sounding with a new type of catheter. I do love it when Mistress introduces me to her new equipment and I will always be truthful in my responses as to its effectiveness and comfort.

Rule 1 – The slave must always be honest . . . 

It was then that the stupidity and thoughtlessness of my earlier hand-job reliefs hit home. Mistress carefully teased the catheter home saying ‘Don't you dare cum’. But for the pumped up gag filling my mouth, I would have confessed there and then that I thought the tanks were empty. I just grunted agreement not to disgrace myself. And what to do with the excess saline solution from the catheterisation? Easy. Maggie put a long needle on her saline syringe and injected the liquid leftovers directly into my ball sack. Ah bliss, yet another fantasy realized.

Long deep breaths

Maggie promised to indulge both herself and me with a little more serious breath play. The outer part of the system hood was attached and hooked up to a single re-breather bag.

I was left to try and fill my drain bag while getting used to the feel of the breathing set-up and taking regulated breaths. You have to be disciplined, no matter what Mistress is doing to you elsewhere. There is a technique: Long breath out, long slow breath in, in, out maintaining that steady rhythm.

When Maggie was happy with my trials the mask was finally reconfigured, with the help of a t-piece joint, the system mask was transformed into an indulgently serious re-breathing unit. Through the small lenses I could just see the tubes as they snaked towards my only source of air, and Mistress standing by monitoring her slave.

Reconfigured system mask

Eventually Mistress thought I’d had enough and removed the mask, but I think she sensed my disappointment, because without further ado I was once again subdued with aroma and the trusty plastic bag was back over my face. I wasn't at all concerned as Maggie gave me a gentle kiss through the plastic and began reciting her eulogy for a slave, or to be more precise, her eulogy for an expired breathplay slave. ’He was a good slave, but all slaves must eventually take their final breath . . . ‘.

It sounded a little terminal and I can only remember parts of it, but what the heck, I was prepared to ease away as the restricted air first produced unconsciousness then . . . I didn't care, I was perfectly relaxed and happy with whichever direction Maggie wanted to take her slave. It could never get that far as Maggie is too professional and experienced, but a slave can dream and I do know Maggie enjoys her slaves more when they are gasping for air.

All good things come to an end and I was really disappointed as Mistress whispered that it was getting close to my bedtime, and again realized she was referring to the lateness and not any possible latex covered incarceration. Just after 22:00 and Mistress had completed her planned activities, albeit a few moments late. That’s always the case as Maggie is never a clock watcher when it comes to her slaves and I was still alive and a very happy slave.

A few final thoughts to other slaves who are fortunate or sensible enough to be contemplating asking Mistress Maggie to help liberate your inner desires:

Leave three or four days before a session as wank/sex free days. Mistress does enjoy tormenting a firm cock.

Don't touch her property without her say so.

If you need to leave at a specific time, tell Maggie beforehand.

I know I will do anything that my Mistress asks of me. Perhaps I am a little closer to becoming an acceptable slave to an exceptional Mistress?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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