Over the Hills and Far Away

Not a lot of people will have heard of the small Yorkshire settlement of Liversedge. I am from Yorkshire, yet knew nothing of the town and certainly not its valuable role in latex manufacturing. Mentioned in the Domesday book, by the 19th century the town was busy in the manufacture of woollen garments and the long tradition of clothing manufacture still continues in the 21st century, albeit in a much smaller scale, at Cathouse Clothing on a local business park in the town. That is where Mistress Maggie wanted to go, to look at some rather nice leopard print and textured latex garments that she had seen on the website.

I had been summoned to chauffeur Mistress to Liversedge, my first duty was to drop my pants and bend over the playroom horse so a Kegel electric communication device could be installed in my asshole, its associated receiver strapped on a leather belt around my waist. And with a big grin Maggie announced that the batteries had a full charge and that is what I would be receiving. Naturally, Mistress retained the remote control and gradually increased the dial until I confirmed the signal was being received and my bum starting to tingle from the inside. Maggie noted level ten and announced that would be a good level to start, if and when she wanted a little amusement at my expense.

As a Tyke, the journey back over the Pennines was short and sweet at just over an hour and 10 minutes, the time flew by with idle chatter between Mistress and slave and adhering to the strict instructions from Maggie's husband that I drive very carefully. After all, I did have a VIM on board (Very Important Mistress). Fortunately, the only sensation from the Kegel's was the top weighted ball that made its presence felt at every bend and pothole. I do wish they would fill those damn potholes on the M62.

Maggie was acquainted with the owner at Cathouse and spent a little time on pleasantries. I just stood and rode with the Kegel balls that Mistress had kindly activated by remote control when entering the shop. But it was soon down to the serious business of browsing. You can imagine we were both in heaven with the range of latex textures and coloured samples waiting to be made into hundreds of sensational garments. We spotted a latex corset that suited Maggie down to the ground (well not quite that long). A quick flick of the remote button and her slave was jumping high enough to reach it off the highest rail, and the garment was quickly purchased. After further browsing and a chance conversation with the owner, a textured black latex skirt emerged. I could tell Maggie liked it, and I thought it absolutely amazing or maybe it was how Maggie sensationally showed it off as she tried it on. It was a no brainer; a beautiful garment on a beautiful Mistress that fitted her so well.

The second purchase was in the bag, and that unfortunately was that. We had spent just an hour shopping and it was time for the trip home to Lancashire, but a coffee stop was necessary before too long.

Nothing interesting about a coffee stop you say. Well no and yes. Maggie had been persuaded to wear the new latex skirt for her journey home, she looked so glamorous seated on the high stool waiting for her coffee to be delivered. It was difficult to take my eyes off her, but then it always is. The skirt was the icing on the cake or rather on her now tightly enclosed legs and thighs.

Then a little surprise. As we got back in the car, Maggie pointed me to a secluded spot in the corner of the car park and told me to park there. She told me how happy she was with my driving and the lovely gift I had bought for her, and had a little reward that she knew I would like.

A hanky was produced from her handbag, before I knew it I was subdued with aroma and captured in a plastic bag. Slowly and calmly she started to suffocate her slave. My pleas for air fell on stony ground, Maggie just said no and twisted the plastic a bit more.

I just gazed at Maggie through the misting plastic and felt totally relaxed, completely devoted and very happy at that moment. Maggie wanted this and so did I. By the time she’d finished the plastic was as tight against my face as Mistresses new latex skirt was across her thighs.

After a few minutes to catch my breath chauffeuring duties were resumed. The rest of the journey was uneventful but incredibly slow due to it being rush hour. We arrived back at Chambers just after six, Maggie had a Clinic session planned for me and I was soon strapped down naked, legs up wide on the clinic couch. The nice white latex hood was fitted and she proceeded to flash fry my nipples, cock, balls and anywhere else that made her laugh with the glowing sparks from her violet wand.

The Kegel balls were removed and, judging by this photo, Maggie used a cut down Samurai sword to impale my bum. This has got to be the biggest thing I have ever had up there, helped on its way by Mistress holding her medicated hanky over my nose again.

Imagine the opposing sensations; I was being wonderfully mounted and stretched with a hand held dildo, whilst at the same time having bits of me punished with intense shocks from the wand. I didn't know whether I was coming or going.

The afternoon had reached a natural end and Maggie made sure I didn't come, but I did go home with another huge smile and a huge bulge after another hugely enjoyable session chauffeuring my Mistress on our expedition home to Yorkshire.

And a note to John. I drove very carefully and apologise if Mistress Maggie now has two more exceptional items to find space for in her ‘overcrowded’ latex wardrobe. The batteries in the Kegel are now flat and in serious need of a major re-charge!

Cock and Nettle Rissoles - Yumeee!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Right Pain in the Bum

Mistress Maggie allowed her sadistic, cruel side to surface once again, to elicit a little concern and a lot of dismay from her very loyal slave. Not because of the punishment I was about to receive, that was fully deserved and expected as I had been pre-warned twice, firstly when the incident happened, 'A dose of discipline from your displeased Mistress will remind you to double check facts before broadcasting’. And secondly in the calling e-mail, 'Your punishment for embarrassing me has been determined and will be carried out ahead of a steamy ordeal'. Mistress NEVER forgets or changes a punishment; no matter what you do or say you will receive the ordained amount.

No, Maggie's cruel sadistic side materialised when I was sent to the bathroom with instructions to put on my black rubber gloves, socks and shorts, and to bring the item I found there back to the Chambers for my chastisement. What I found was a cane, about two feet long and the thickness of a little finger; a veritable mean bum breaking machine. I knew it was going to hurt!

Mistress had already positioned the Horse exactly where she wanted it for maximum purchase and accuracy in her swing. I duly presented the cane to her and without thought or argument positioned myself along the bench ready to receive it. 'I have decided, twenty strokes’, she announced. Depending on the severity of the punishment Mistress may expect me to bend and take it, but on this occasion my hands were roped securely forward and my ample girth confined tightly to the punishment Horse. With the ease of the exceptional Mistress that she is, my head was swiftly inserted into a rather nice rubber hood 'to catch some of the screams and crying'. I was advised to thank Mistress after each stroke and repeat ‘Less haste more attention’, or something very similar, to remind me not to repeat the mistake in future.

I was really glad of the strong ropes, as by halfway I was turning the horse into a bucking bronco at each stroke. It was starting to place a real strain on my resolve; the only thing keeping me from screaming was the knowledge that Mistress deemed my punishment as deserved and necessary. Those of you who have played the children's game Buckaroo will understand exactly how I was feeling.

18 Thank You Mistress, more haste. . . 19 Thank you. . . 20.  OH the relief, but I did remember a final Thank you. . .  I must say Maggie is not a complete sadist, because every four or five strokes she would stop, come into my limited field of vision, and through the perforated latex hood gently stroke my head. Each time I got a perforated reminder of how stunning Mistress looks in her leather skirt and corset, topped with a stunning blouse and bottomed with the most precisely placed seams on the sheerest black nylons you could imagine; dead straight up those perfect legs. That vision also helped sustain my poor arse through its ordeal.

At the end of my punishment it was really strange. My arse, which had been on fire for twenty strokes just felt numb. I might have quipped about having a numb bum - but I didn't. I just lay there assimilating and absorbing the pain. Mistress deposited a string of anal beads right under my nose, in my post-punishment haze and with my restricted vision I thought it was a ball gag and tried to be helpful by opening my mouth wide. Wrong end fool. Those beads were destined for another orifice. With a large dollop of lube, accompanied by the kind of farting sounds you can only get when the last dredges are being squeezed from a bottle. . . 'Remind me to get some more lube, slave,’ each of the four balls were easily lodged up my numb bum hole.

Maggie cleaned away a spot of cane induced blood from my backside, before spending considerably more time cleaning that damn cane which had created 20 quite livid weals across it. The punishment I had taken today illustrates how your own personal limits can be gradually extended through suitable training. Four years ago I would have died at the thought of six strokes with a springy cane, yet here I was accepting 20 strokes with something more resembling a telegraph pole.

Punishment over Mistress relaxed back to her training persona and divested all her garments, to be replaced with a clear pair of plastic dungarees. Now, even through the perforations, that wonderful vision helped divert my attention away from my arse, which by now was just starting to warm and become less numb. Her perfect figure was clearly on display yet totally protected by the plastic and it was other areas of my anatomy that were now reacting to the charged situation.

Mistress is used to her slaves reaction, ignored the growing erection and helped me into a thick smoky black plastic catsuit. I have worn this suit before and it has been carefully modified by Maggie; she made a reinforced opening in it for her cock and balls. The latex hood that I had worn throughout my punishment ordeal was now removed, revealing a very wet and bedraggled slave. After a few hilarious jibes about the way I looked Mistress handed me a towel, with instruction to dry my hair and smarten up for some more plastic. She wanted to try out a new breathplay combination in the form of a close fitting hood and a new latex muzzle.

Even after drying, a little talc was necessary to ease my chins inside the soft clingy plastic without damaging the hood. Mistress liked the look of the combination but the practicalities for long-term use soon looked less hopeful, unfortunately the nose holes did not line up as well as she would like. At least I had the pleasure of testing it out and quietly suffocating in it for a while, before alerting her that it couldn’t be worn for longer, as the airflow was simply too restricted. A lovely item the muzzle though, with adjustable head straps and rubber neck corset. So when Maggie was ready to move us into the White Room, off it came, but no doubt we will be re-introduced again in the not too distant future.

The clinic had been prepared with a definite plastic theme; a thick plastic bodybag spread out on the gynae couch being the centrepiece. Mistress interviewed me first, asking me questions about my recent cock health and performance. She said that she’d be taking care of her slaves routine piss hole maintenance today, and that it could be a messy business. Better lie on some protective plastic then. Maggie opened the bodybag’s zip all the way, I gingerly sat in the offered position which did start my caned arse stinging, and finally relaxed inside. I was strapped in and zipped up ready for Mistresses next exercise.

I was informed that my external temperature must be monitored through two little pads attached at either side of my balls. To tell the truth it felt like the tens unit, especially when Maggie turned it on to Program E, but I assume new technology can take a slaves temperature in this manner? And now for internal measurements and stretching exercises. More lube, a few choice decisions regarding the sound size and Mistress was carefully inserting ever increasing sized sounds from her Pratt kit down the inside of her cock. I took Pratt sound size 27 relatively easily but the next size up refused to slide in. With my highest sound size limit noted Maggie was satisfied with the stretching progress she had made with her slave, she indicated that in a future session we would be returning to the clinic for continued stretching of the urethra.

Yet another strange use of new technology was introduced now, by way of what was reported to be an internal thermometer. You can guess where that ended up along with its associated electrode; stuck inside my penis shaft. Oh yes, Mistress really does need to know how hot it is in there, how else does she know whether to switch her electric up or down? The electrastim sensation was set to a very unnerving level, and to add to the steamy atmosphere the zip was finally closed over my face and I started to use up the air inside the body bag. No sympathy from Mistress as she pointed out there was a suitable sized hole at cock level to let in plenty of air.

It is a strange feeling gradually consuming all the air inside the bodybag, unlike the other breath play methods that I have enjoyed with Maggie the effects are much slower to show themselves. The plastic is thick and doesn't mould itself to your face, in fact the lack of oxygen creeps up slowly and insidiously. Perhaps I should suggest Mistress installs carbon dioxide monitors inside the body bags, but then again they are not required as I trust Mistress implicitly and have agreed to go wherever she wants to take her slave.

As Maggie unhitched her plastic slave from the clinic couch she revealed that a lot more plastification awaited me, but I will have to tell you about that in a future episode, because for the first time in all my 4+ years in training Mistress changed her mind ‘ . . or maybe not’, she said. Instead we spent quiet time lounging on the latex bed, where we just chilled out in our plastic suits, talking and enjoying each others company. It is an amazing thing lying there talking and just gazing at Maggie’s smiling profile in the subdued lighting of the Playroom. I didn't change my mind though about being the luckiest slave alive; a perfect Mistress, with a laugh and smile to die for and once more, in the presence of my Mistress, I felt really alive.

Needless to say Mistress made sure her cock was kept under strict control during this time, however a lot more willpower was required when Mistress decided a little plastic face-sitting would bring the session to a suitable finale, and I was told in no uncertain terms not to embarrass myself. Slurp went the last few drops of lube inside her dungarees and Mistress mounted my face with her lubed up plastic protected rear. I get the distinct impression Mistress Maggie enjoys slipping around on the nose of her suffocating slave and the severe ache I left the Chambers with on that very lucky Friday 13th had nothing to do with a sore arse.

Mistress, if you read this, I have to remind you to get some more lube!

PPI

No, nothing to do with Payment Protection Insurance, but a title that came to mind following something Mistress Maggie said to me; she had called me a Pee Powered Individual. But before we flow into that area I was really concerned that Mistress Maggie may be tired of her faithful but ageing slave and may cast me aside into that abyss which is Room 101, never again to worship my Mistress. All I could do to prevent this catastrophe was to promise to willingly do whatever Mistress asked, immediately and without question.

Today, I was to bring all my red rubber fetish clothes. I had even taken the liberty of arriving in my nice pair of red shorts. I’m getting more bold with wearing rubber, it is now quite common for me to wear either my red, black or smoky black shorts under my everyday clothes - apologies, I digress. Divested of my outer garments and naked except for latex gloves and socks I was reminded of my submissive position, I returned to the Playroom where I lay prostrate on the floor and proceeded to clean, tongue polish and generally worship Mistresses slingback patent shoes.

Maggie was guiding my efforts with the tip of her riding crop and I knew any infractions would earn an immediate crack, but her crop did not need to be deployed in anger as Maggie has trained me well, her slave must attend to her shoes until she is satisfied, which can be quite a feat when Maggie is in her figure hugging black latex catsuit which always drives me to distraction.

With the help of a little powder I was slipping into the red catsuit. Once on, I was to stand and bend over the Playroom throne with my legs apart. Mistress opened my crotch zip, donned yet another pair of safety gloves and slipped her finger into my bum. More lubrication and the same again, her finger moving slowly in and out and round about, my excited passage feeling quite relaxed and very willing to take my little anal friend and the butt-plug was soon pushed into place and zipped snugly out of sight.

Mistress seated herself on the black rubber bed, beckoned me over and described how she would like me to worship her latex curves, a privilege that would keep me busy for some length of time, and she said I would clearly benefit from a lesson in managing without air. Out came a large plastic bag, pulled over my face and gathered tightly round my neck until I had had my lesson and was gasping for breaths, pleading with Mistress for air.

Mistress discarded the bag and relaxed on the bed, first on her back then on her front, and I was instructed to lick, kiss and caress every part of her black latex second skin. With my earlier reservations about remaining a useful slave still in the back of my mind I set about doing exactly what Maggie wished. My licks and kisses started at the top, making their way over Maggie’s latex covered breasts and down to her stomach, she used her arms and legs to draw me in as I continued to massage her latex with my tongue. Up and down and back up each of her superbly formed legs as Mistress gracefully positioned them for my best attention.

I think I was making a little progress easing Mistresses tensions, as every now and then Maggie would give an involuntary twitch, or an almost imperceptible sigh could be heard amongst the noisy sounds of rubber rubbing on rubber. Then suddenly Mistress told me to move aside so she could stand up. At times like this I am to freeze, remaining exactly where I am until told otherwise, although I was sorely tempted to turn towards the sounds of my Mistress in her latex, who had made her way through the door and was now returning with an item from the Clinic. ‘Hold this for me slave’, she said handing me the yellow enema bag. Maggie carefully unzipped her crotch zip and used the bag to catch the contents of her full bladder. I watched and listened to the music of the softly tinkling fluid as it was guided into the receptacle, and I could just sense essence of Mistress with a hint of rubber as I smiled inwardly thinking I may get a taste of the bags contents later.

There was a temporary adjournment as Maggie returned to the Clinic taking the bag and its contents with her, then back on the bed and back to the rubbery delight of licking, cleaning and caressing those oh so perfect thighs. Maggie turned over and I was finally able to make intimate contact with those glorious black globes that I so eagerly follow but daren't touch, up the stairs to the Playroom. Boy, was I in heaven for quite a while there. I did get the impression Maggie was enjoying herself; I knew I was, but of course we run to Maggie's time and it was time for a change and a little suspension.

The suspension frame was lowered from the ceiling and the heavy harness attached to the frame with stout chains. Mistress had her strapon pointing right at me, ‘OK, I will be making sure you are well stretched today, get ready to be raised to a good height for some anal abuse’. With a thoughtful touch she allowed me to wear a head harness, I was all strapped in and I was off flying with ankles chained to the other side of the frame. I just lay back and enjoyed being lifted to whatever height Mistress wanted me at. Note for the next time Mistress wants me in red latex; she did remark that it appears that whenever I am flying from her rafters I am always wearing my red catsuit. Perhaps it’s a red rubber flying suit? but I will check the blogs to see if that is the case.

What is the case is that Mistress was in a mood for giving her slave a good dildoing, and boy was it good. Long deep and powerful thrusts interspersed with short bursts of cock stimulation had me knee bending in the chain suspension to allow Mistress to penetrate even more deeply. I am sure I could feel the retaining ring of the dildo against my ass cheeks as it went all the way in. Mistress had me in a most vulnerable position, and over the course of the next hour or so she must have repeated this action about half a dozen times; fucking my ass each time she passed, whilst teasing my cock with occasional strokes and vibrations with a silver vibrator. Maggie gave her slave the best and longest riding that I have experienced and use of the frame and leather harness in this context is definitely one to recommend.

At one point I could feel Mistress inserting something into my cock. It had been a long time since Mistress had treated me to this pleasurable sensation and I wasn't sure if it was an electrode or one of her many sounds. Whatever it was, it was a most pleasant sensation. When Maggie next left the room I couldn’t help but have a little feel and discovered it was a sound, but as I was gently massaging my swollen member it dropped out. I pleaded ignorance when Maggie returned and mumbled, 'It just dropped out’. I suspect if Maggie reads this it might just drop right back in there but held a little more securely!. Fortunately it was tethered and the red rope stopped it from clattering to the floor. Maggie just stuck it back in my cock hole and started fucking me again, as the suspension moved to and fro with her thrusts, the metal sound slid up and down my urethral passage.

Once Maggie was satisfied with her reaming, she set about soothing, cooling and filling my overheating arsehole. I received the second dose of PPI as the contents of the previously filled enema bag were wheeled into the Playroom on a drip stand and promptly fed into a very willing and receptive orifice. My ass must have been wide open as Mistress was pleasantly surprised at the speed the enema was infused. 'It's gone in already’, she said and an inflatable bung was deployed to keep it there. I wasn't surprised at all as in the past I have taken 2 litres from Mistress with little or no discomfort. As good as Mistress Maggie's pee reservoir is, I am sure it doesn't run to two litres. What I didn’t know is that I had more PPI surprises to come and there was more pee in reserve.

After all my hard work (lol) Mistress lowered the frame. I, however was feeling very happy with everything I had received and  somewhat mischievous. As Maggie lowered the frame with her back to me I noisily closed my legs, deliberately making the chains clink and rattle and the metal suspension frame reverberate with the sudden noise. Maggie, startled by all the sudden unexpected grating noises instantly turned to check, as an exceptional Mistress would, that nothing untoward had happened to her slave. I suspect I shouldn't have teased my Mistress like that as I was quite safe, but I was feeling so good by that stage that a little fun never does anyone any harm. Hmmm! No doubt that will come back to haunt me.

Mistress donned her rubber piss pants and allowed me a long slow warm drink. The nectar itself is a wonderful privilege granted by Mistress, but I was at the perfect angle to watch my drink being naturally dispensed into the 'holding tank' and then willingly gulp down my treat as the tap was slowly opened, to allow a little through at a time. Like a good PPI slave I relished every drop and am delighted to report that there were no spillages at all. I think Mistress was pleased with her delivery mechanism.

So pleased that she raised the frame again and changed her focus to the other end of her slave where she played with her cock. It felt engorged, very sensitive and the steel sound was still installed. Mistress manipulated the sound, playfully rubbing handfuls of lube along my cock, and you can guess the rest. Mistress certainly knows how to milk a slave when she chooses. My best efforts to restrain myself were to no avail because once Mistress has decided something, it happens. I am helpless and unable to resist anything my Mistress wants or does and I am definitely NOT complaining.

I am more relaxed about my future servitude and Mistress Maggie not wanting to immediately discard her property. I have achieved my wish not to be cast into room 101 and have been granted session 102. I know, I am a fortunate PPI slave.

Centenary Celebrations

In September 2011 I was fortunate enough to be taken under the wing of a lady who has turned out to be a fantastic Mistress and really good friend. And there started a fantastic journey that has reached its centenary, and that hopefully, with the agreement of Mistress Maggie, will continue for as long as I am of use to her. Today, the Centenary celebration wasn't about training, more bringing together all the hard work, repetitive exercises and in Maggie's words ‘servitude and mistreatment’. From my perspective Maggie has never mistreated her slave, more 'guided' me in the right directions with the occasional shock, crop, belt and reinforcement to mould me in the direction that she wished her slave to go.
 
Maggie had meticulously planned all the activities, as she always does, but with a little extra to commemorate the century. What I knew beforehand was . . . You will be having a day to remember, a celebration worthy of my very loyal slave. None of the planned activities are on the usual Mistress Maggie menu but likely to have you surprised, even a little scared or nervous, all designed by me for maximum enjoyment. . . ,  and that I would receive one litre of saline into my scrotal sack, meaning I would have huge balls for the remainder of the session. What I thought may happen was acting as Mistresses slave and being permitted to serve her real friends, then of course there was the totally unexpected that is ever present in Maggie's sessions. The one thing I wasn't, was a little scared. There was absolutely no reason to be as I trust Maggie and would do whatever she wished.

We started early to make sure the saline had time to infuse, as Maggie had planned activities for specific times. The session set off at an unhurried pace with me inserted into the black rubber uniform, which included my butt plug. Maggie then asked me to quote my slaves oath. No problems. Word perfect and delivered with true sincerity and honesty, a little boot worship followed and the final dressing was the leather harness. Mistress smiled as the large cock ring was secured behind my balls, we both know it can be an impossible thing to remove with inflated balls.

On time, we moved to the clinic where I was secured ready for my scrotal operation. Maggie zipped me into the white latex hood, that I must admit is rapidly becoming my favourite, comfortable to wear and a symbol of my Mistresses ownership. The two cannulas went in so easily I barely felt anything; a pin prick and they were in. A little adjustment to the valves and both were delivering a steady drip-drip-drip that I was able to monitor through my perforated eye covers.

This photo shows how strangely transformed Mistress appeared when she answered the door; the transparent hood masked her stunning good looks and raven black hair. Underneath was definitely my Mistress, but on the surface she was an anonymous temptress who after cocoa buttering my balls allowed and encouraged 1 litre of saline to expand her scrotum. She appears to derive great pleasure from gently feeling the weight and tautness of her globes and whispering. ‘You have got big balls now slave’.

Not content with fondling her balls, she wanted a spark in the life of her slave to celebrate our centenary, and out came the electrics. There was still space along my cock for the two electrodes, as Maggie had tied a tight tourniquet around the base to prevent the saline leeching along the shaft. The unit was set to program 8 level 20, its repeating crescendo just sufficient to keep me really frustrated for some time or, more precisely, a frustrated, happy slave and I could still watch the regular drips feeding the saline into my balls.

That was until Maggie zipped up the white hood; nice, no vision and very stimulating with the restricted breathing and at the same time she increased the program to level 22. I tried to utter a warning, but the culmination of these two simple actions was too much, I lost control and exploded.

I asked myself whether I erupted because I am a useless slave with poor self control, or whether Mistress planned it to save embarrassment later. Either way, I can unequivocally confirm that 1litre of saline in the ball sack does not prevent normal cock functions!

The next vision I saw was when my white hood was removed and replaced with my 'normal' working one, it was that of my stunning Mistress. I hadn't expected that she had removed her own transparent hood, she stood there helping me down from the couch looking stunning; hair beautifully back to normal, a twinkle in her eyes and that radiant smile accompanied by the occasional mischievous feel of her balls. As she led me quietly through to the Playroom she gently reassured me that I mustn't be worried about what was going to happen. I wasn't at all worried. I know and trust Mistresses judgement explicitly.

So, as the door to the Playroom opened at precisely three o'clock, I was ready for anything; even one of Maggie's friends, who was sat relaxing on the latex bed awaiting our arrival, poised with easel and sketch pad ready. We were introduced, ‘slave, meet K. K this is slave’. I also noticed the Throne was place diagonally opposite K and the Playroom rug had been folded to create a soft kneeling pad.

I will repeat, Mistress is very thorough in her planning and knows that although my spirit is always very willing my knees can occasionally be weak. I managed a quick glance towards K, but is was not my place to look. In any case, I suspect she was far more intrigued at seeing a pair of 1 litre balls attached to her still life subject. Maggie repositioned my slave lead through the slave collar, and snapped it to my balls giving them an upwards tug, whilst I knelt and just gazed at Mistress.

It felt really good as K and Maggie decided the pose and K started sketching. In the background, Maggie's husband John took photos as a permanent record of the event, which would also remind K of our position and colours for when she starts adding tints to her sketches. She concentrated on sketching Maggie first, then me, which gave Maggie a little time to relax from her strenuous pose. I, of course remained rock solid still as any obedient slave should.

The Completed Portrait

Once complete and after Maggie and K had time to review the sketches, I was invited for a quick peek. Another nice gesture and I must say K must have worn out a pencil judging by the size of the balls she had to capture. They were very good though and I look forward to seeing the finished article if Mistress will allow that.

John and K adjourned downstairs but Maggie had a few last minute preparations for her slave. I was to wear the wooden serving tray, secured with chains to my slave collar, then Maggie produced a black rubber apron that she’d created, I was to wear it in order to avoid embarrassment while I was undertaking my final actions for today's celebrations. I was to serve her friends with drinks and home made buns, and it would have been most inappropriate for the guests to be confronted with a huge set of slave balls at eye level.

One guest had specific dietary requirements and I was to remember not to mix them up; first serve each guest with a hot drink, then serve them with cakes, keep the kitchen tidy between visits, and any spare time stand to attention looking to service her guests' requirements. Not a lot to remember then for this slave, who was for the first time being trusted to serve Maggie's friends.

Maggie's second lady guest 'S' arrived at four and I busied myself serving, cleaning and standing to attention. Listening to these three delightful friends talking about some of the many pictures Mistress had gathered together in her Centenary Memorial Photo book. Maggie offered me the book to take home but I chose to decline, I thought discretion was the better path, and in any event, Maggie may get far more pleasure from bringing out that little black photo book for more of her friends. The ladies laughed and giggled and occasionally needed replenishment or another bun. I generally had the biggest smile on my face, watching Mistress relax and not having to worry about the behaviour of her slave.

There were three occasions where I was a little flustered. The first was when I got a slight telling off from John for not having the kitchen spick and span; that was soon rectified. The second when I almost dropped a glass that K had been drinking from; wet rubber gloves and glasses don't mix well. The third was when I blushed scarlet when Maggie and her lady friends congratulated me on 100 sessions of loyal service, singularly unexpected but greatly appreciated by a loyal and faithful slave.

And yes I did get one of Maggie's superb cup cakes that I had been serving to the guests. I was instructed to kneel in front of Mistress and her friends as she broke off pieces and fed them to her slave. Mistress told me to return the tray contents to the kitchen and return to collect a cup and paper plate that were sitting on the coffee table, but when I returned they had miraculously levitated down onto the floor. There were giggles from the ladies about this awkward task that Maggie had deliberately set. Undaunted, I was able to bend and pick both up without the anticipated contortions. The ladies laughed and Maggie smiled saying, ‘I will have to sort him out for being such a smart arse’.

I really enjoyed the fact that Maggie actually trusts me not to show her up in front of her friends. I would also like to thank K and S for being so easy going and enjoyable people to serve. If I am fortunate to be allowed to serve them again, I answer to slave or whatever Maggie says.

A final comment to slaves dreaming of a 1litre infusion. My balls were like taught balloons, not at all uncomfortable. However, there is a tendency for the saline to leak out through the vacated cannula incisions, thus creating a moist scrotum and wet pants. Luckily, I have a pair of rather nice, loose latex pants that I could wear to contain the seepage and you may wish to contemplate something suitably watertight or you may end up looking like you have pee'd yourself.

Roll on the next 100 and thank you Mistress Maggie, K, S and John for a memorable celebration.