EO 19

No, not an Edinburgh postcode, and maybe a rather strange title for a blog, but it refers to the new Russian Gas mask that we were trying out during the session. For the techies, it is a Russian EO 19, NATO size three with integral filters that makes the wearer look like a Star Wars storm trooper. Anyway, more of that later in what was a most uplifting session.

Through the small semi-opaque portal in Mistress Maggie's front door I was able to glimpse a statuesque lady in what looked like an all black cape, curiosity would be satisfied in the twinkling of an eye or more precisely, the appearance of a latex covered finger round the semi opened door, beckoning me into The Chambers. There, I was greeted by my Mistress in her stunning long black latex coat and once the door had been closed behind me, and still within the confines of the small front porch, I was ordered onto my knees to worship Mistresses boots.

Mistress in EO 19

I followed Mistress upstairs and the view was just as stunning as if she had been wearing her tight latex. Her coat undulating and swishing with her every movement and I know it is not the material that mesmerises this slave, but the person inside. It is a magnificent vision all the same.

In the Playroom, Maggie insisted on trying on the new gas mask; she frequently self-demonstrates her liking for all her equipment, although this mask was a little too large for her delicate features and didn’t provide an airtight seal. Nevertheless, the contrast between the black latex of the coat and the grey of the mask does provide a striking picture. Definitely a storm trooper in this guise. After a number of deep breaths and a positive response to me asking if I could take this photo, I was dispatched to the bathroom to don my latex gloves, stockings and nothing else.

On my return, once again I was on my knees ready to perform my duties at my Mistresses feet, but this time I was instructed under the folds of that gorgeous coat and given authority to worship my Mistresses legs, way beyond the tops of her knee high glossy black boots. The contrast between the cool smoothness of the boots and her warm yet slightly abrasive fishnet tights was amazing and I would have spent hours under these folds, kissing, licking and worshipping Maggie's legs. It is strange the thoughts that enter a slaves head when so close to heaven, but my predicament had me recalling a cartoon I saw many years ago, of a lady idly talking with her friends, whilst out of sight and invisible, her slave looked to be performing similar worship. . .  as I say, strange what springs to mind.

Hooked

I would have loved to have spent longer under Maggie’s rubber coat, but Mistress allows pleasure and pain in pretty equal measures and decided it was time for me to climb into my catsuit and position myself over the the spanking bench, where I was shackled using leather cuffs and chains.

Naturally I couldn't see what was going on at the business end, although I could feel something cold, tight and probably potentially very punishing being attached round my balls. I could also feel something cold and rigid being inserted up my bottom.

I think that perhaps Mistress must secretly be a keen fisherwoman, by the easiness she managed to hook her slave with the giant, stainless steel gaff. Once more, the meticulous planning that Mistress applies to all her sessions was very evident. The line from the hook to the ceiling ring was perfectly vertical; the positioning of the bench obviously comes with years of experience. I could just touch the floor with my shackled hands but effectively all of my 17 stone was evenly distributed through my chest and through the ceiling hook.

My stretched balls are booted

A few turns of the screws had my balls once again heading away for a fishing holiday, whilst a few adjustments to the fishing line had my knees almost off the ground and my whole backside weight bearing down on the hook. Strange as it may seem, I even encouraged that by trying to lift my knees to apply more pressure on the hook. If you've ever thought what a tuna feels like when caught on line, you should try this. Not unpleasant at all. Well it is for the tuna but not for a captivated slave!

There were more terrible things happening in my other vulnerable areas though. Maggie had now caught my balls in her metal device and appeared to be enjoying playing with her catch; the constant tightening of the screws, the occasional twist of the balls as Maggie lovingly remarked how firm her balls had become and rather less lovingly, kicking the poor little blighters, just because she could.

Mistress was satisfied that she had stretched her balls by over 2 inches and allowed them to 'rest' for a while. If you call hanging there, hooked to the ceiling via your backside whilst your balls are heading towards the floor as resting! - Maggie has such a sweet, disarming turn of phrase at the most appropriate times.

Mistress does however have a big heart, and whilst I was 'resting' she unzipped her boots and put them to one side, she sat and relaxed for a while, allowing me to caress and kiss her beautiful toes in their fishnet enclosure. Though I have never been a fisherman, I cannot imagine a better netted catch than those feet and toes. The shackles restricted what I could caress, but after a lot of kissing the foot worship graduated to mouth filling, until I had all five toes dominating the inside of my eager mouth. As the fish hook was eased out of my bum I thank goodness there were no barbs, Mistress then quickly and quietly inserted my butt plug in the vacated hole.

Fishnet devotion

As only occasionally happens, a moment of truly unplanned amusement had spontaneous laughter ringing out in the bathroom. Mistress had clipped a stout neck chain onto my collar and was leading me to the bathroom, to prepare me for wearing the EO 19. As frequently happens, my wonky knees were giving me gyp and Maggie told me to sit down on the toilet seat. The black latex mask I’d been wearing had gathered a lot of sweat, off it came, then my head and neck cleaned, dried and talced.

Once satisfied, a quick yank on the chain indicated me to follow her back to the Playroom. Well, I would have if I could have. Instead, the plug had attached itself to the toilet seat and the suction between seat and plug was greater than the suction between bum and plug. 'Mistress’ I stammered, and as she turned to see what the problem was, there was my black butt plug on the white toilet seat, looking like a swaying tree trunk. Surely Mistress couldn't have planned for me to sit on the closed seat, could she?

Back in the Playroom, I was fitted into the very heavy leather body harness that immobilises your hands and arms down by your sides. I think this has to be the best, most inconspicuous and secure bondage yet. To the unobservant it may look like I am just standing, or lying in a relaxed position, arms to my sides. Nothing could be further from the truth, my arms were tightly strapped and there is no escaping their unyielding, unforgiving clutches.

A blind storm-trooper slave

The EO 19 gas mask came into view and was stretched over my head. It is a really comfortable fit and completely airtight, which is good news for the Russians who had to wear this model. One of Maggie's big rubber blindfolds removed any vision and I was left chained to the bed, with arms strapped to my sides and listening only to my own breathing. Another delightful situation I found myself in, with Maggie again in total charge of my functioning.

Maggie experimented a little to find out the possibilities with her EO19 mask and how best to block the air intakes; those little black vents on the storm-troopers cheeks. As it is a new mask, that sweet, suffocating spot took a while to find, but once she had it right Maggie was like a child with a new toy. What could be used to block the air now then? Firstly, there are two vents requiring  two hands to block the intakes. The mask being totally airtight allowed me to breathe out but no chance of breathing in, the inner mask became clamped tighter and tighter to my face until no air was left, then my Mistress kindly sets me free.

With no air I briefly start to panic, no need of course because what use is a dead slave to the perfect Mistress? I think my next objective is to follow the advice of Lance Corporal Jones and ‘Don’t Panic!', no matter what Mistress does to her slave.

Even so, this breathtaking method with the EO 19 does have some advantages, after all, if Mistress has both hands occupied with my air supply she has no hands left to menace my bollocks! Hmm! I am starting to appreciate this mask.

Inflatable mask and Tower of Pain

Enough enjoyment. Off came the EO 19 to be replaced by the inflatable black rubber hood. I was still pinioned with the body harness and now Mistress only had one breathing hole to contend with. 'I wonder if I can use one of my nice round firm nipples to cover your breath hole?' The answer is a definite yes. Not that I could see anything but my thoughts ran to 'Ahh. Smothered by one of Mistress’ nipples. Way to go!'

Speaking of nipples, I do sometimes regret the perfect design of my heavy latex suit. It makes my own nipples far too accessible and the three way zip makes other body area far too accessible as well. All three zips were opened and all used to 'assist' with my ongoing training. Electrics up bum and round cock, stout sheath attached over cock, a rubber ball stretcher attached and Mistress having more fun playing with my balls again, which by now were tightly displayed and quite sensitive. To cap it all, the Tower Of Pain made another appearance. Funnily enough I hadn’t realised why my nipples were having an out-of-body episode until I saw this photo with the T.O.P bridging my chest, as I was still very pumped up and Maggie to my unending delight, appeared to be having more fun with her slave than many a slave could cope with.

With a tweek tweek here

And a ball crush there.

Here a tweek, there a crush,

Everywhere a pain pain.

Old slave Jo he had some balls, e-ow e-ow oh!

The EO 19 is now a friend and I like how it shows up nicely in the photographs. Mistress Maggie is a good friend and always has shown up very well in all photographs. I liked this session and if you have read this far, I hope you have enjoyed my blog.

Lisa - An Unassuming, Quiet Individual

After five and a bit years training, Mistress Maggie decided it was high time to introduce me to her female sub slave Lisa. Lisa is the only permanent, live in slave that Maggie keeps and has impeccable manners and a very quiet persona. I have already been introduced to Mistresses other pet, Ted but he can be a little spiky at times but Lisa is, well Lisa; totally pliable, devoted, quiet as the proverbial church mouse and prepared to do anything her owner instructs her to do. She can be a little cool, her skin can feel a little plasticky with the occasional sag here and there, age and over use has perhaps contributed to her appearance, but Lisa never ever complains. You may discern the faintest hiss as Lisa gets a little excited or perhaps a little deflated if she is frustrated, but other than that, no sounds. I will return to Lisa shortly.

Mistress greeted me in an olive latex uniform that looked alarmingly like a picture of a Russian officer topped off with a rather sinister peaked cap: One star of a field general but without the gold braid. Perhaps it should be Mistress General Maggie? That would be most suitable for this slave as, like any loyal and faithful soldier, I do exactly as ordered, immediately and without question.

Oh well, on my knees as instructed I think I provided a comfortable dais for my General to sit on whilst commanding her small Playroom army of three. In descending order of rank, Ted, Lisa and me.

When I first saw this picture, it took a long while to see past the image of my stunning General; her stylish court shoes, long nylon covered legs, gorgeous latex covered body, that absolutely wonderful bust line and of course her stunning good looks. But after that 'long while' I noticed the caricature that Mistress had commissioned for our centenary celebrations hanging on the wall just over her left shoulder, I had to break off to revisit my diary for that memorable session; the last time Mistress trusted me to serve her friends. . .  I digress. Back to Lisa who you can see quietly lying on the bed behind Mistress Maggie.

Mistress had been gradually increasing the size of my back passage and gently presenting aromas for my relaxation. She had just finished with an aroma soaked cloth when she told me I would be engaging in a military threesome this afternoon; I was required to fuck Lisa and Mistress was going to fuck me. A threesome with me as the meat in the sandwich! This had me confused; a relatively easy state for this simple slave to be in. I know that any thoughts of this type of activity on my part would have me severely chastised, yet here I was being ordered to mount Mistresses live-in love doll slave.

But first I was instructed to become more intimately acquainted with Lisa and introduce myself by cleaning and sniffing her private parts. Ah! that is where the aroma soaked pad had been deposited. It gave a slightly musty aroma to Lisa's genitalia, not unpleasant, so I set to work licking, kissing and generally introducing myself to my newly acquired friend. I could have sworn that her lady bits were located where her navel should be? It is strange the effects that a good dose of aromas can have on your senses.

Anyway, after these preliminaries, Mistress turned me over and expertly rolled a condom down my cock and told me to slide it  inside Lisa’s hole. As I mentioned, with the target somewhere around her midriff it was a strange angle of attack, but I eventually managed full penetration to be rapidly followed by Mistress and her strap-on achieving full penetration of her chosen target and that really got me thrusting. It must have been a bizarre sight; the gasmasked Lisa underneath with her privates lined up, myself and my fully loaded weapon in the middle fulfilling my temporary role as ‘naval orificer’, and my Mistress General Maggie bringing up the rear giving me orders not to shoot anything. ‘You do not cum. This is for the girls enjoyment!’

So I didn't. It was difficult to control, but I was relieved when both Mistress and Lisa appeared to have had their fill without any embarrassment on my part. I was surprised that Mistress then ordered me to strip naked and, after quickly tying my hands to the overhead ring, set about oiling up her slave. Now that was exciting! Her gloved hands rubbing the Playroom lube all over my body before inserting me into the grey plastic suit. I have happily worn this suit before, it has a short opening at the crotch which was used to access the wires to the inflated anal vibrator that Mistress had just inserted. The vibrator was set quite high and then I was sealed inside the green hazmat suit as well. Quite a lot of plastic then but no way to adjust the magnitude of the tremors that were now seismically affecting my back passage.

I was marched to the Clinic by General Maggie and ordered to mount the couch, not mount in the biblical sense of course; I had done all the mounting with Lisa, but as I lay there, Mistress attached a breathing mask to my face and zipped the whole lot inside the hazmat suit. The only way I could take in air was by drawing it down a length of plastic hose that emerged from behind my head. Maggie had once again excelled in her planning and every now and then, allowed whiffs of aroma to travel into my sealed environment.

Lisa wasn't the only one to be pumped up today. Just like Lisa I was about to become an inflatable plastic play toy for Maggie’s amusement. Mistress returned to the clinic in her lovely green hazmat suit and as I lay there I wondered what she was attaching to my legs. I soon found out when she switched on her electric pump and they blew up like balloons. Now I was rigid in more ways than one, as I could not bend my legs with the fully inflated leg splints.

Just when I thought I was pumped up quite enough Maggie unzipped my hazmat hood and removed my breathing mask, giving me a clear vision of my plastic Mistress. Something else was about to be pumped when she slipped my head into the inflatable plastic hood. We had a little discussion concerning the length of the breathing tube and a little adjustment was made to perfect it, and once I acknowledged that I was comfortable, Maggie huffed and puffed and completely blew my head up.

I lay there with a fat head, fat legs, the vibrator still pulsing away in my bum and the final straw, Maggie rested her Hitachi wand in my navel with its powerful vibrations set on maximum to really torment her slave. This time I really couldn't stop myself. As Maggie soothed my swollen head safely clothed inside her own hazmat suit, I gazed back at my stunning owner, so near yet so totally untouchable I just had to let myself go.

I wasn't on my own in letting my fluids flow. Back in the Playroom I took my place on the plastic covered bed and Mistress secured me down in a spread-eagle fashion. I was to be rehydrated after my taxing assignment in the hazmat suit and Mistress had plans to thoroughly quench my thirst. I then got a somewhat filtered view of what a real woman's anatomy looks like, Mistress stood in control above me pressing her used panties into my face, then fitted them across my eyes and nose and let out a stream of her juices for me to drink.

Although I am partial to a cup of filter coffee at times, I don't think I have ever had the pleasure of filtered champagne. Not that Maggie’s champagne needs any filtering, it is always perfect no matter how it is served, but I did have the benefit of being able to take the very wet panties home for future consumption and laundering.

And where was Lisa having been evicted from her bed? - Oh, just drying and hanging around. I did feel a little sorry for her as she had taken on a somewhat deflated, dejected look, which probably wasn't helped by the lengthy gas mask exercise she'd had to endure. However, it seems that it wasn't the aroma affecting my sense of direction, have a look where I was mounting Lisa for yourself.

Lisa - hanging around after having been thoroughly cleaned

I am pleased Mistress Maggie has introduced me to Lisa and I know my place in the Playroom pecking order.

Unfinished Business

Due to frailties and failings on my part in recent sessions, Mistress Maggie was unable to complete some of her planned activities. Only two weeks ago much needed advanced nipple play was halted due to a pain in the butt-plug, six months prior to that a prolonged bondage chair confinement was curtailed due to a pain in the neck, as a result my ass escaped a meeting with Maggie’s electric dildo. Mistress said she does not like me falling behind with my slave education and was determined to take measures to get my training back on track. We would be revisiting those abandoned scenarios today and taking the lessons again.

Anyway, before the unfinished business commenced, I had already blotted my copy-book by not having thoroughly cleaned my slave collar. Mistress made sure the collar was fastened on one notch tighter than usual to torment me for my laziness, then over the punishment stool, face down with Mistress astride my back for a good beating with the Playroom hairbrush. Who would think that an innocent item like a hairbrush could cause such carnage to a slaves resolve. The answer to that of course, is the way the brush was wielded by an expert in slave beatings. However, it was made a lot easier to bear, because in the mirror I could see the reflection of Mistress in her gold latex catsuit and feel her warmth on my bare back. An undeserved pleasure mixed with such thorough punishment, plus a promise that my collar will be so polished next time.

After warming my cheeks, preparatory widening of my asshole was to be addressed. I was instructed to retrieve the low bench and ready myself in the kneeling position with head touching the bench. The strap-on was sheathed just in front of my eyes so I knew exactly what was coming and Mistress took her place behind me, my reddened ass cheeks were separated and she mounted her slave from the rear. Nothing violent or brutal or painful. Maggie eased the tip of her rubber cock gently into my hole and within seconds of gentle inching in and out, I was thrusting backwards onto her well oiled shaft. After that my butt-plug slipped in almost inconspicuously and nestled there nicely; little chance of me complaining of pains in my butt plug today!

Earlier in the week Mistress had asked me how I was going on with my larger guiche jewellery. I had to explain the little matter of how my guiche had come out because one of my balls dropped off in the shower. No, not one of my bollocks, I mean the small silver ball that keeps my piercing in place! The piercing had not yet stretched to accommodate the thicker bar when the ball came unscrewed, and I rather stupidly removed the bar rather than re-fixing the errant ball. Try as I might I still had not managed to get the fiddly thing back in. Three days had gone by since it came out and Maggie insisted it needed putting back very soon. ‘Bring your piercing to session slave and I will reinstall it, failing that, I will have to cart you back to the piercing salon’.

Mistress will never admit defeat to a technical challenge, although it was evident that returning my guiche to its correct location was one of the more trickier challenges she had undertaken recently. However, to every problem there is always more than one solution and my Mistress, after a bout of head scratching and expletives, disappeared from the clinic to return with a much smaller bar, worked that through quite easily and the bigger bar followed without a hitch. The exercise had taken far longer than Maggie had expected but I knew from her voice that this bit of unfinished business had now been completed to her satisfaction and I felt really pleased to have my guiche back in. Note to self: keep your balls screwed tightly on!

Returning to the Playroom I donned my black latex catsuit, Mistress then set about another bit of unfinished business and the nipple clamps came out, to complete rather a sadistic part of Maggie’s curriculum that remained unlearned due to my frailties.

First the suction cups were planted on my chest to get my nipples standing proud, and once the nipples were big enough, Maggie could get a good grip on my buds. Talc was used to dry off the areola and get an even better grip and those square screw clamps were brutally attached. I became the subject of lots of security tests as Maggie yanked on the nipple clamps’ chain to check whether they were tight enough. Lots more grunts and even the odd sharp intake of breath from me as those screws kept turning, Mistress forever proving that one good turn deserves another!

Time to stand up and let those nasty clamps dangle, along with some playful 'encouragement' in the form of the Playroom vibrator. I was ordered with my back against the Cell bars where Maggie pressed on my chest to hold me there, whilst using the vibrator on my cock and balls. Her actions left me with a raging, frustrating erection and with that disarming little giggle Maggie fitted a latex apron round my waist to cover my rampant cock. In contrast, the heavyweight latex half mask that I had buckled on me was a whole lot more strict, with its long snug neck and small nostril holes it did a wonderful job of restricting my breathing.

Mistress sat on her throne and tucked into her packed lunch. The substandard polishing of my slave collar was raised again and Mistress said there was no time like the present to improve my polishing skills. ‘You can do some cleaning up while I’m having a rest slave, there’s a duster and polish on the cabinet for you.’ A lengthy period of slave cleaning was to be completed, I was supposed to work my way round the Playroom using the Mister Sheen and cloth, clean and polish all the equipment and clean the picture rail where everything was neatly hung. And there’s nothing as practical as killing two birds with one stone; Mistress receives help with her cleaning and I am rudely reminded of the high standards expected when attending to my slave collar.

My cleaning job was not as easy as it may sound. Firstly the traditional hooks used over the rail are little bastards to get back once disturbed and it was very easy to disturb them whilst removing the heavy items. Secondly, with my weight, standing on the bed, I sink and bounce and also sweat a lot with the exertions.

If you have ever tried to fix a clip wearing nipple clamps, tight mask and latex gloves whilst bouncing on a rubber bed, it is very easy to drop the hooks and of course the only place they choose to fall is down the side of the bed. I retrieve them, pulling the bed away from the wall, fumbling down the side of the bed, trying to live with the excruciating pain as I catch the nipple chain which makes me sweat even more, push the bed back and start again. The sweat becomes a distraction in itself as the salty water trickles down inside the half mask into your eyes and blurs vision even more. . . another hook chooses to fall. . . and so it goes on. Who would believe that a simple cleaning task could send a slave into such a state of rubber submission.

Mistress sighed saying that what had taken me half an hour normally takes her two minutes. My response? 'I can never be as good as my Mistress'. Hmmm. I suspect this may end up as more unfinished business.

The last bits of unfinished business were about to be addressed, as Mistress carefully manoeuvred the high backed bondage chair under the overhead gantry and one of her heavy leather waist corsets was strapped around my waist. She pulled and pulled on the straps until it could be tightened no further which gave me that wonderful feeling of being very secure. From their various locations on those miserable little picture frame clamps, Mistress collected the leather restraints suitable for strapping and buckling me to the bondage chair. Why is it that not one of the clamps came off when Maggie unloaded them? Wrist straps and diagonal chest straps, which occasionally disturbed my re-tightened nipple clamps, a wrap round each arm, straps round each ankle and I was securely fixed. My nipples, cock and balls all on display and easily accessible to their owner.

A final touch to my restriction was the addition of the Lithuanian gas mask. With a little practice you can actually play a little tune through the outlet valve as it produces it rich low pitched rumble on breathing out. Mistress appeared nonplussed with some of the tunes I was trying to trumpet, although I know Mistress occasionally appreciates a bit of music while working and has often been known to burst into song herself.

Mistress had constructed a back brace for the chair, made specifically to address the problem of neck ache whilst reclining. It is beautifully made, attached by rope to the back of the chair and absolutely perfect for preventing your head lolling backwards. The playroom was filled with the sound of rattling metal as Mistress collected the chains she would use to hold the chair and Maggie attached two stout chains and gently reclined me and the chair backwards, past 45 degrees. I got a feeling of deja-vu; a previous session had been halted at this point because of my aching neck. This time, I relaxed with my head against the new back rest and immediately knew I wouldn't have neck problems, in fact more chance of suffering too much comfort. I have oft said I have the perfect, most versatile and caring owner a slave could ever wish for.

And the finale of all Mistresses hard work was completion of the electric dildo play. One of the hidden gems of the Bondage Chair is the hole in the seat, ideally located for Mistress to access a slaves back passage and this is exactly what Maggie had in store for me. She could reach underneath to remove the butt plug and replace it with something a little more shocking. Through the misting eyepieces of the Lithuanian mask I could see a long silver object being readied for deployment, in fact Maggie made a point of showing me the invader. ‘This is the big shocking toy you missed last time slave’, and I felt something big being squeezed onto my cock then, moments later felt something even bigger being eased up my backside. I was already well stretched for this and the electrode slid in very easily.

As the electro circuits were brought online I approached that state where I knew I would embarrass myself, but I was determined to hold on because Mistress makes the decision on when or if I am allowed any orgasms. Mistress put her gas mask on and joined in with the breathing games, finally taking me over the edge as she slowly eased the giant electrode dildo in and out, then gradually increasing the frequency I could hear her words through our gas masks. ‘OK slave, all unfinished business completed, you can cum now’ and I did. No embarrassment this time, Mistress Maggie had allowed me the release that she had been building throughout our unfinished business, and I had very successfully received all the delights that I had denied myself in previous sessions.

Another perfect day in the life of a very happy and contented slave.

A Black Tape Day

I had been dying to show Mistress Maggie my new plum coloured latex catsuit, so I asked if on this occasion it was acceptable to arrive with my catsuit on. Imagine my surprise when she agreed, but not without throwing in a curved ball. ‘Yes that’s fine. Permission granted. Actually, a blindfold might look good with it, if you have one’. Maggie wanted me to arrive at The Chambers wearing a blindfold; I could see several problems with that instruction! Where would I get a blindfold within 20 minutes of leaving home? How would I drive or even walk to the Chambers in a blindfold? It certainly would attract unwanted attention from the locals. Then I had a light bulb moment. Finding an old pair of glasses I set to work with my trusty black electricians tape and scissors, and in no time I had a very effective blindfold that looked just like a pair of sunglasses. I couldn't see anything in front and had only limited vision around the edges of the frame.

Perfect. I would wait until I could see the inner door being opened and then quickly don my blacked out glasses. I felt a bit daft and I felt a bit nervous, but only until I heard that delightful giggle from Mistress and the laughter as she said, ‘come in slave’. My peripheral vision touched on a pair of golden boots and just a hint of a gold latex covered leg.

Still largely blind, I took off my coat and shoes and stood to attention awaiting my instruction. Mistress, with a smile in her voice relented, suggesting it might be safer to go upstairs without the taped up glasses. As I removed my blindfold and put it in my pocket, I had no idea that my black electricians tape was just a pre-curser to bigger things ahead, and that I’d be challenged by a lot more black tape before the day was out. Oh boy was I pleased to have my sight restored, as there in front of me stood Mistress, an absolute vision in striking gold, shortly followed by the sight of those shining golden bum cheeks ascending the stairs, which has to rank as the eighth wonder of the world.

My first duty of the day was to display my devotion with boot worship. In contrast to the smooth feeling latex that covered the rest of my Mistress, her boots were a rough textured material and I could not do my usual long licks. I wondered if Mistress knew how rough and scaly her boots were, obviously the answer to that was yes and as usual Mistress had thought of everything. ’Stick out your tongue and place it on the point of my boot slave’ and she proceeded to drag my tethered head up the length of her golden boots, again . . . again . . . and again . . . and again . . .   Cleaning those scaly lizard like boots was more like licking sandpaper, my tongue was left feeling quite sensitive after so many energetic passes up the boots. Still, I did have the lovely smell of the gold and plum latex to keep me going, I am totally useless with colour matching but I do think the plum and gold look well together, a colourful change to strict black latex as well.

Mistress likes to dress her slaves, however on this occasion I was instructed to keep my catsuit on and Mistress told me to catwalk around her Playroom so that I could show her the full potential of her tightly clad rubber plum toy. The time saved by being pre-dressed dovetailed nicely with a very tight schedule that Mistress had planned. As soon as I had pulled on my black socks and gloves I was ready to assist my Mistress and she required that her cat-suited figure be polished to a high shine. A delightful task enthusiastically undertaken with the help of Mr Sheen and a lot of gentle rubbing. In return, I was greased up and plugged up the ass with a trusty rubber butt plug.

Enough of this enjoyment, time was passing and we had to return to Maggie's plan. My wrists were tied and I was roped to the wooden chair; that simple yet so effective bondage that has held me captive on more than one occasion. Layers of wide plastic wrap were wound loosely around my head, making it fully encapsulated yet still able to breathe, for now. A specially shaped plastic cape was added and left draping over my shoulders while Maggie disappeared to retrieve a third item. The rope binding may have been simple, but I was soon to discover how incredibly effective it was when Mistress tightly wound her thin plastic wrap twice around my head, nose and mouth.

I have never felt so under Mistresses influence and ownership as in those few brief moments before a suitable breathing hole was formed in my tight wrapping. There was nothing I could do. The ropes held very firm and as I struggled all I could see was the hazy vision of my golden goddess in her 'Heart of Gold' catsuit; Maggie's description not mine, but a name which accurately reflects my Owner.

Now to the business end of why all the careful plastic wrapping. I was to receive a full body mummification complete with a black gaffer tape topping. Ah, that was the reason for the plastic shoulder guard; to protect my latex suit from the sticky tape. Starting with my chin and winding downwards, all of the cape was being covered and I was slowly being turned into something resembling a Rodin sculpture.

After that Maggie used the same method to tape up my feet and my legs as high as my knees; clingfilm first then the duct tape winding. We have experienced session shortening cramps on a previous tape mummification when I couldn't move my feet, but todays wrapping was a very different and comfortable type of bondage. Maggie asked me if it was too tight as she was taping and there were no complaints from her slave. With this change to my feet wrap I had the feeling this could be a very long incarceration indeed.

The Plank was now being assembled. Unfortunately, due to me being partially immobilised I had to be parked to one side and act as a bystander while Maggie did all the hard work, I could then bunny hop across to the Plank and lie down, or so I thought. Maggie said the thundering sound of my bunny hops on her floorboards might concern her husband, so we reverted to a sedate slave shuffle instead. As it happens the slave shuffle turned out to be a bonus for me, as I managed to sneak my arms round Mistress on the pretext that I was unstable with my feet bound up, once more getting my hands on her polished gold, which felt even more gorgeous through my latex gloves.

My mummy moment had finally arrived and I sat down on the centre of the bondage plank. ’Down onto the plank . . . Move down a bit . . . bit more’, until Maggie was finally satisfied her charge was in my final resting place and a soft pillow placed beneath my head. It took a while for Mistress to totally mummify her toy, occasionally needing to stretch across me to retrieve her roll of tape from the other side of the plank. I may have been totally immobile but I could still feel the warmth of her beautiful body through the layers of tape, layers of cling-film and layers of latex. For once I was pleased with my girth, as it meant Mistress had further to stretch to get her black gaffer back.

A few magic moments captured on video - WITH SOUND

Meticulous as ever, Maggie made sure every inch was covered and every bit neat and smooth until finally, I was happy just to catch glimpses of my golden goddess as she floated in and out of vision. Vision was the last to go as Maggie gently applied the final tape bindings across my eyes. I lay there approaching that serene state where I was at one with the Plank, at one with the world and happy in the knowledge that my Mistress cared enough for her slave to leave me in this position. And there I stayed for a substantial time.

I may not have been able to see my Mistress, but I could see her in my minds eye. Every now and then, I would fantasise about Mistress doing this and that and odd things to me with her toys and equipment. Totally safe inside my shroud yet totally vulnerable to whatever Mistress wished to do. She had already promised a few incisions and checks to make sure I was still working OK. All I could do was grind my hips in a totally unsatisfying, circular dance, dream of my Mistress and think of my oath to do anything Mistress wanted, immediately and without question.

I have travelled a long way along my road to understanding why I have become so devoted to and dependant on my Mistress and this session certainly provided me with more startling, amazing yet in a way disturbing enlightenment.

Mistress took her scissors and began chopping at my layers and peeling back the outer surface until all my sensitive areas were exposed. Something began happening with my once dangly bits; Mistress was emasculating my cock and balls by stapling them neatly out of harms way, which set off a spontaneous slow, prolonged release of sexual tension. I had no way of preventing the orgasm even if I wanted to, all I know is that I couldn’t help it, and it is not the first time I have reacted this way to her staples and I have been asking myself why.

Perhaps it was the way everything was compressed behind my stapled smooth abdomen, or that my manhood had been made totally useless and ineffective by their owner. Whatever the reason, I know each time I think about this issue, it really excites, thrills and amazes me how far along this road of true ownership we have come.

Mistress did suggest I could take the staples out at home if I wished. An exciting proposition, but I was not yet ready for that major step forward. Not because of potential discovery as I knew I could manage to keep our secret. No, it was the prospect of not being able to get the staples out of my balls; what would it feel like with Mistresses property safely stapled behind what must be the most effective chastity device known to a slave; how would it feel moving 'normally' with my Mistresses jewels ineffective; the feeling of my tight latex pants no longer having a rampant cock and swinging balls to fill them out but a smooth stapled area to casually stroke; the simple requirement of going to the loo; knowing just how much under the power of this magnificent lady I had become and what would it feel like, as frequently happens when I think of this incredibly sexy and sultry Mistress.

These are the reasons why I was reluctant to remove my staples at home. At this time, it was just too mind blowing to contemplate. For the moment I must concentrate hard on preventing future inevitable orgasms.

In any event, Mistress had far more stimulation to keep me entertained until the end of our session. The nipple zips in the new plum suit proved to be in exactly the right place for a pair of little nipple suckers. Maggie explained how she would use them to draw out my nipples into a more accessible size as they had become lazy and introverted. Further stimulations for an already well stimulated slave were provided in the form of eight electrodes. Yes, that is EIGHT electrodes, attached to the tens unit, which were evenly deployed across my lower body where Maggie's cock and balls once stood proud. When deployed in this configuration a previously unexplored range of stimulation was released, creating a  flowing, rippling sensation over a wide area. An unusual and exciting feeling and yet another new and amazing experience.

Apart from a growing pain in the butt plug, I could have remained in the dark, attached to the plank and totally happy to be my Mistresses property, but time marches on and the experience had to end some time. Reluctantly, for me anyway, Maggie decreed that I should be cut free from my amazing home. Mistress removed the staples and I must admit, (another of those might regret comments), I was a little disappointed at the freedom but elated by another step along my path of becoming a better slave to Mistress Maggie.

I'm Not Convinced You're Hot Enough

It was Friday and my first session of the new year was only one hour away and I knew that Mistress Maggie would be awaiting my confirmation. In an effort to reaffirm that I was her property and how my attendance was solely dependent on my Mistresses agreement and nothing else, I began typing my text message . . .   ‘May I still attend at 1430 please?’

First mistake of 2017. Mistress clearly was not in the mood for my grovelling approach, especially as she had taken time to write to me yesterday with a firm reminder to present myself for further training. Mistress deemed that some discipline was needed for my stupidity and careless choice of words and I was immediately confronted with my just desserts. I took my place over Maggie’s knee to receive a warm up hand spanking followed by a right roasting with a series of implements, those slapping slippers and leather slappers came raining down until my backside felt red hot, but not hot enough by all accounts.

Maggie continued with her interrogations. ‘What's all this may I attend rubbish? . . . I was expecting a confirmation, not a question that’s been answered . . . Are you trying to tell me something slave? . . . Don’t you want to continue your training slave? . . .’  a half inch thick wooden bum blisterer was put to work to assist with  generating some sensible replies. I must confess that I got a thrill from being prone across Mistresses latex covered thighs, a comment I will no doubt pay for in the future. I then received a little plastic bagging whilst my Mistress outlined the rest of the session to me through the misting plastic. ‘Your red scorching bum is only the start, I have even more hot ways coming, enough to give you a thirst’.

After that I was fitted into my black catsuit and the session was moved to the White Room. The heating had been set at a cozy level, so the latex hospital gown I was given to wear and the large latex drape that was covering the couch were already nice and warm. I was told to lay down with my legs raised up and Maggie brought in some white ropes and did a good job of securing me down, neatly roping up my balls out the way of my backside, she then set up her Gas Station to administer therapeutic aromas.

Mistress has so many gas masks at her disposal, but decided the large lenses of an S10 would give me the best view of the proceedings, and with my head raised up it was fitted on over the top of my latex mask to create an excellent seal. A corrugated hose connected slave to Gas Station and I was sent on a high, as Mistress took charge of the pump and started squeezing the aroma through the pipework to subdue me. I smiled because this configuration is generally the precursor to some anal play with my Mistress.

My hands which had been left hanging were now to be prevented from wandering as they were inserted into leather fist mittens and the sound of metal snap fasteners indicated the end of my freedom. I checked, and yes, I was securely attached to the couch, a cruel fate because Mistress knows I dream of stroking her superb latex clad buttocks whenever I can.

The pumped aromas were starting to take effect on my arsehole. I had already been fitted with my regular butt plug earlier, but now my muscles were nice and relaxed it was time for it to be removed and a pair of electric Kegel balls installed instead; there was a sensation of cold metal being tightened around cock and balls which also turned out to be electrodes. When Mistress was satisfied I was wired up correctly she squeezed the aroma pump a few times, ‘a little more medicine for you'  and the electric pulses were turned on. ‘Slave, are you feeling hot yet in all that rubber?’.

What could I say? I was starting to warm up; not at the boiling stage but sufficient to feel pleasantly warm. I grunted a 'No Mistress' through the S10. Mistress gave me and my rubber layers a stroke to feel my temperature for herself. ’Well, I’m not quite convinced that is hot enough for you. You need more rubber, and also, I am now going to switch up your electrodes to make things a little more steamy!'

And up the electrodes went. Not high enough to force an explosive eruption, more a gradual build up of seismic pressure that would eventually violently erupt. A bit like Vesuvius and on went a another layer of latex in the form of the Clinics clear rubber sheet. Yep, I was definitely starting to warm up by now but I was loving the situation even more.

It was then that I started to think about Christmas and how the turkey might have felt. No, I hadn't completely lost the plot, it was Maggie’s liberal use of the hairdryer that caused me to think that way! She was now seriously raising my temperature levels with her high power hair dryer all over my exposed bits and rubber covered bits. It got me thinking what it must feel like being in a fan oven and naturally, being early January, I could still visualise the turkey cooking and browning away in . . . the fan oven. I said I hadn't lost it! Anyway, what could I do? My orifice was stuffed with fancy pulse stuffing and all I could do was lie back and roast.

The electrodes were continuing to deliver their thrill building pulses when Mistress decreed some larger ass play would amuse her; off she went to put on a strap-on. Of course, the Kegel balls needed to be removed to make way for the invader, but I hardly had chance to take a breath before her strap-on was inserted. Maggie kindly described which dildo she was wearing and how she intended to use it. Due to my prone position I was unable see as the strap-on found its way into my hole, but I could certainly feel it as the first inch or so was eased in then the whole of the rest sank deep inside me and gave me a good long fucking. I certainly know my place when Maggie mounts me and we both know who is the leader of this pack and it ain’t me!

The aromas had worked, the butt plug had worked, the Kegels had worked in loosening my arsehole and the dildo slid in and out effortlessly as Maggie pounded my insides. Slow slow, quick quick slow. I was really disappointed when the dildo was finally pulled all the way out and the electric Kegels were re-instated. It is hard to believe that when Mistress first took my cherry, it was a one finger job and quite tight. Now I can take big toys and still hunger for more.

In fact, thinking back to when I was fortunate to be taken in hand by my owner, there were many challenges I would never have believed possible. For instance, who would have thought that one day I would willingly accept needles through my nipples without anything more than a murmur. Yet, without any warning my Mistress wished to insert needles in my nipples right now.

The warm rubber sheet and my gown were rolled up and tucked under my chin, my nipple zips were opened and my nipples revealed then subsequently pulled and extended. On the count of three a needle was pushed through each one in an operation that took less than two minutes. Mistress said she was pleased that I hadn't flinched with the needles, or even good enough to have earned some rewards. A deep breath when instructed helps to absorb the pain and this happy slave once more was fulfilling my promise to willingly do whatever my Mistress asks, immediately and without question.

The nipple needles were there to stay, I was covered up in the gown and rubber sheet again and Maggie did another temperature check by fondling her latex covered slave, declaring ‘I am still not convinced you are hot enough’.

I guessed I may experience another encounter with her hot hairdryer, and so I did, but not before Mistress had cleared away all her electrodes and smothered all my exposed bits with cocoa butter, gently massaging the butter into my skin. Now that did nearly embarrass me. Imagine, the soft massaging motion of a beautiful woman working on and around your groin; massaging gently and even easing the zips a little higher to expose even more of my excited quivering flesh. And then back to the Christmas theme of basting the turkey, Mistress once more turned on the hair dryer, fanning and directed its heat over the recently buttered areas and my rubber covering. By now I was getting genuinely hot!
 
Ah! At last Mistress declared that I may have been sufficiently warmed up, pricked, poked, gassed, basted, stuffed and even hot enough to have developed a thirst. I was kindly asked if I would like a drink ‘oh, yes please Mistress’. First though and because of all the various items that had found their way up my arse, Mistress said I should be cleaned internally and at the same time be rehydrated by absorption. After that if there was any liquid left I could have my drink.

I am not convinced that filling my back passage with fluid actually helps hydration, but as always, Maggie knows best and there is no better and easier way but for her to produce the warm, fresh fluids needed to clean out that orifice.

Once again I could hear the feint splash as a jug was being filled. I tried to look but the bondage inhibited my line of sight, so I had to be content with a description of what was happening. At least Mistress did bring the inflatable butt plug into my vision to ask if six pumps would keep the plug in? Yep, six pumps looked quite satisfactory through the round windows of the S10. Thank you for that Mistress! In went the nectar enema. Not particularly taxing because Mistress reserved some of her piss as a thirst quencher, but enough for me to once more relish that feeling that Mistresses fluids were now safely plugged inside her slave.

Finally I got to quench my thirst with what was left over from my enema as I took a sip on the presented tube. By this time my champagne had cooled and it turned out to be the most refreshing drink I had received for a long time. 2017 was actually turning out a lot better than my initial mistake with the text would have suggested. I think Maggie was moderately pleased with our progress in this first session after the break, and I was allowed down off the couch ready to learn about my rewards.

‘Slave, I am pleased with your progress, you have been very well behaved today and have earned yourself the privilege of licking my heels’. The enema was still gurgling about in my stomach as I took my place at her booted feet.

Naturally and as always, I had shown my devotions at the start of the session, when I had thrown myself at those thigh boots had given them considerable tonguing attention, right down to the open toes and Mistresses clearly visible red varnished toenails. Now I was allowed the delight of cleaning and consuming her high heels.

In each heel went and I actually smiled to myself that I was able to accommodate the whole length of Maggie's heels without gagging. I also had an added bonus; that I could gaze up those superbly crafted legs, past the tops of those boots, past those sacred and superbly latex enclosed thighs, past Mistresses tightly latex covered bottom, past her superb latex covered breasts with their nipple zips still, unfortunately, firmly closed, lingering a little on the striking three pronged necklace that provided the only colour to the severe black, and finally coming to rest on the most beautiful Mistress I could ever imagine.

I think I had almost pleased my Mistress during the session because as a final reward, I was allowed to pay homage to my Mistresses latex covered thighs. An area that is normally out of bounds and subject to punishment if I were to stray past the tops of her boots. It was a hard decision but what could an obedient slave do. Dive straight in. I gently caressed and licked her thighs with long slow movements. I must say her latex covered thighs are stunning, smooth and warm. Heat was radiating from my Mistresses abdomen and my own temperature was certainly starting to rise again. I loved every short moment that I was allowed in such proximity to that permanently excluded area.

Then it was all over. I had received my rewards for being a passable slave and it was off to the bathroom to deflate the enema bung and let the liquid flow. This is the only time I feel embarrassed in my Mistresses company. Next time I think I will suggest Mistress Maggie wears her newly completed Steampunk mask. As for the signs for 2017, if the rest of the year flows like this first session, this slave will continue to be in heaven and I will be able to serve my owner in whatever way she sees fit.

I will also revert to 14:30 arrival confirmed. Trying too hard to say how my slave existence depends wholly on my Mistress sometimes lands me in trouble!