Cooking by Candle Power

By coincidence, in the morning whilst I was waiting impatiently for the time to leave home for my afternoon session with Mistress Maggie, I was on a blog extolling the virtues of the discipline Mistress had instilled into me during my training, to always present myself in well shaved, hairless form. The original reason Mistress gave was to encourage better electrical contact for the electrodes. Today provided an equally valid but different reason for hairlessness.

The session was scheduled at a nice easy pace, giving me time to admire Maggie as she moved purposefully and gracefully fitting my butt plug and selecting and fitting a tight but comfortable latex hood. Boot worship and a little personal space cleaning got the session off to a superb start. It was going to be one of those sessions Maggie so frequently delivers; humour, improvisation when required and quite simply a Mistress in absolute top form. Right from the first moment when Mistress raised the back of her skirt and instructed me to lick and clean her behind, Mistress had a smile on her cheeks and I just knew something amazing and unusual was imminent.

I thought very briefly that it was strange that the shaggy white rug was absent, but then my attention was required to putting on a pair of ballet boots and we moved on from the missing rug. I was allowed some banter with Mistress about using the boots' side zips and just like last time I wore them, Maggie mentioned that I wouldn't be able to run away or in fact even stand in the boots. As soon as I said "I bet I could stand" I thought I had gone too far as the comment may be construed as insolent, but Maggie insisted I stay on my knees and get ready to have my endurance well tested. 

A couple of rope belts were hitched firmly but comfortably round my waist, followed by two shorter lengths either side of the waist left dangling for later use. I was instructed to lie in the space where the rug should have been, underneath the suspension unit. It felt strange with no furry rug tickling my back. The tight nipple clamps were more than tickling my nipples. Maggie tightened them to maximum and they were not coming off. A similar pair were attached to balls and both were strung over the suspension unit and something painful was starting to happen. It got more painful as the waist ropes were attached to the suspension unit and raised enough to put a little pressure on my back. I then caught the briefest of glimpses of a simple candle attached to the strings keeping my nipples tight. Mistress most helpfully said not to worry as this was part of my endurance training and smiled sweetly as she lit the candle at both ends, then did the same with a second candle that I couldn't see suspended above my cock and balls. I wish someone would remind Maggie that burning the candle at both ends is definitely not good for a slave.

Bloody hell, that hurt. When each drop of hot wax splashed home, I shook and released another flood of molten pain. Maggie thought I wasn't wobbling enough. Too flaming right. I was trying to keep as still as possible, but to encourage her slave and to generate a bit more mirth for Maggie my waist was hoisted a few more inches off the floor. That worked. I got quite a few very hot wax showers. This was the second reason why it is good to be totally hairless when visiting Maggie. The wax coated cock, balls, nipples and chest with a thick layer that would have depilated every hair it came in contact with. It also explained why the fluffy rug was absent. Wax on a thick pile carpet is a devil to remove. I am constantly amazed by the amount of planning that goes into these sessions even the simplest detail of removing the rug had been considered.

Mistress announced that she was pleased with my performance and that I had passed the endurance test. I had been determined not to disappoint Maggie by begging her to extinguish the candles and my perseverance paid off with a most radiant smile, a well done slave and the most delightful kiss for her flambé'd slave. Mistress gave me a good stiff brushing to remove the widespread wax pools from my skin, bits of wax went everywhere, exactly where the white rug would have been.

As I said, Maggie was in absolutely sparkling form and was prepared to improvise and she invited me to join her on the landing. Pointing to the bannister Mistress instructed me to stand and use it as a ballet bar, after all I was wearing ballet boots. I struggled onto my feet making a passable attempt at standing but acknowledged Mistress was right, as always, and we agreed I would need far more practise in the boots before I could even stand let alone walk. Back on my knees I was instructed to return the ballet boots to their box, then I fetched the vacuum and made short work of cleaning the Playroom floor. Even though I say so myself, I now make a passable cleaner for Maggie.

Back to the script and on with my training. Out came my own plug and in went a larger, vibrating version. Before switching on the plug Mistress retrieved the bondage cushion and the largest plastic bag I had ever seen. The intention was to seal me inside and tie me to the cushion.

All going fine until I started sweating and I kept slip sliding away inside the bag. I don't think it was helped by the cling film Mistress used to secure the vibrators batteries. We settled for Maggie strapping hands and feet to the bag.

A lot of huffing and puffing followed as Maggie alternated between sucking air out of the bag and blowing air in so I ended up like a vac-pac then a balloon.

This amused Maggie for a while. Mistress knows exactly how much air to remove from the bag and how long I could be left before I would start to gasp and plead for a little air. After all, it would have been most inappropriate after all her hard work, if I suddenly panicked and had to be cut out! I have much faith in Mistresses abilities and trust her implicitly. That was not going to happen.

When I received this picture, I just had to include it in my blog. It shows the most gentlest of gestures from Maggie. In particular, my blown up head gently cradled between my Mistresses thighs. Obviously I could not see but I knew how close my balloon was to Maggie. I felt an overwhelming sense of peace at this point. Safely wrapped in my air-tight plastic, with my head firmly yet oh so comfortably cradled.

All the pain of the hot wax now forgotten.

This gentle moment couldn't last of course. This little unscripted gem had to end, unfortunately, as Mistress referred back to her comprehensive session plan.

Plans required me to move from lying on the cushion to sitting on the low stool that Maggie moved to a convenient position close by. This almost created my first and only natural disaster of the session. I felt the most excruciating cramps starting in my calves as I stood up. Fortunately, as I flopped quickly and painfully on to the bench with a groan of agony the cramps went, just as quickly as they had started. Maggie as always was concerned with her slave experiencing any pain she had not orchestrated, relaxed as I reassured her I was now fine for the final part of training. It was touching afterwards that Mistress again showed her gentler side by e-mailing me about her concerns over my cramp as she thought I may have understated how much pain I was actually in. I had been honest with Maggie during the session. It is a lot safer that way.

The final part of the session involved a topic dear to most English people. The weather. I was advised that I needed a little climactic conditioning in an environment more suited to England following my recent holiday abroad. Ah, the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

With me comfortably seated, the sweat coated plastic slid easily round my torso to provide a huge ruff of plastic round my neck that Maggie used to good advantage to save spillage of the predicted heavy shower. I could  make out through the already misting plastic that Mistress was preparing a jug or two of nice warm liquid and I looked forward to a good drink as I was already sweating.

Maggie had no plans for her slave to drink as she produced and filled a pink, yes fixated with pink, watering can bought just for her slave. Once again, she can be a real softy towards her slaves and did I see the funny side as Maggie spread the top of the plastic and would insist on saying things like "hows the rain, petal" and "you all right in there flower?" as she watered away. Sometimes Maggie's sense of humour goes over my head but in this case it was the warm pee that trickled from the can that went over my head. I did catch a few welcome drops but the intention was to increase the humidity inside the bag.

Maggie created a low pressure weather system by pumping out some of the air and then sealed me inside, with instructions that I was to last 10 minutes without embarrassing myself. The conditions were decidedly warm and humid inside and as the plastic misted up, helped by the warm wine, I began to be once again acclimatised to the Season of Mists . . .

Did I last those 10 minutes? Maggie thrust the room vibrator in my slippery hands and alternated between helping me press it into my groin and then into her groin; the air was getting thin, breathing was increasingly difficult and it was like peering through a thick mist. I could only see Maggie when really close as she gave me a gentle kiss through my steamy weather bag. Yes 10 minutes of endurance training was passed; just!

Third Annual Nettling Event

Ushered over the threshold by Mistress Maggie in a simple yet stunning latex skirt and top, I could just see the shape of her perfect breasts straining against the tight olive green of her top; quite secure and totally out of bounds but incredibly sexy and frustrating. Maggie let out a knowing laugh as I followed her up the stairs to the playroom. Knowing that her slave would be looking at her finely shaped and perfectly formed rear as the movement of her legs and hips set the rear zip of the skirt undulating in the most provocative snake-like manner; knowing that her sheer black tights and high-heeled court shoes would soon be the objects of worship by her slave and knowing that her slave knew that all that I viewed was off limits, unless Mistress decreed otherwise.

Being a slave of little brain but general good powers of observation, I guessed that today would be my annual introduction to the nettle crop because before I had composed myself after following Maggie's rear, there was a neat line of three plant pots containing good, healthy nettle plants lined up neatly on top of the low punishment bench.

With wrists cuffed to the headboard of the rubber bed, Mistress indulged in a little preliminary breath play to get the juices flowing with a convenient plastic bag. I know Maggie gets enjoyment from my gasps and I try on each occasion to go a little further before I beg for air. The opening was held in a long tight grip under my chin as Mistress outlined the session, demanding confirmation that I understood her instruction. I confirmed with a grunted gasp. "Yes! Air please"

As I said the nettles looked healthy enough to me but Mistress said she was disappointed with the quantity of good nettles this year, not enough bees visiting her nettle patch, but with my pollination expertise a bigger and better crop could be expected in 2015.

On went the small spreader bar securely strapped between the thighs and my wrists attached to the bar. I was now unable to stand upright and could only manage to waddle. Mistress was quite clear with the instruction; "Land the bee on each nettle plant to complete the pollination"; to be repeated until Mistress was satisfied her plants were successfully fertilised. Before I went off half-cocked, Maggie reminded me she had to attach the insect, same spiky painful clamp as last year, then the short length of bungee cord conveniently anchored to the playroom bed.  The bungee was sufficiently slack so as not to stretch the tackle too much more. “I think you know what to do don’t you slave? Now off you go.”

I am pleased to say I managed the task and by the end I was showing Mistress that I could do it both ways. Straddle the nettle bench with my back to Mistress and then with a little more huffing and puffing and bungee stretching, straddle the bench facing Mistress. It solicited some great laughter and presented Maggie with an alternate angle for viewing her hapless slave. I certainly wasn't going to complain about having to spring from plant to plant, having cock, balls, lower abdomen and worst of all the inside of my knees stung to billy-o by what turned out to be a most virulent strain of nettles. I was determined to show Maggie that I had progressed since last years event.

After the nettling, Mistress led me into the clinic where the couch was laid flat. I had not seen this configuration before so, once again something new and exciting was on the cards. I was not wrong. When instructed to carefully get on the couch I slid on from the side and laid there waiting for my next instruction. With a little exasperation in her voice Maggie said I was to kneel on the couch rather than lie on it - stupid slave. Three or four cracks with the leather slapper reminded me of that fact and of course Rule 13. Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times!

Out came my trusty plug and with the help of a mask and aromas placed over my nose in went 'something' with an inflatable plug attached. Mistress has used the black latex pump up before so nothing new there then. Well yes there was something new. It was in reality a Bardex style inflatable double bulb catheter that Maggie was inserting into my very willing and accommodating arsehole. The unit remained flaccid but Maggie was careful to bring both bulbs through my legs as I finally was instructed to gently turn and lie on my back. I laid there unsecured whilst she fitted a cock cage to help keep me under control and prevent recurrence of previous premature accidents. At which point on went the gas mask over the top of my latex mask that I was still wearing. Maggie, as usual, was concerned about her slaves safety and insisted that I confirmed that I was able to breathe with both mask and hood. In fact, if anything, it was easier because the hood tightened as the gas mask went on and made for a good airflow. I grunted "Fine. No problems”. Mistress screwed on a corrugated hose and had me relax with more aroma, this time dispensed through the gas station.

Maggie then proceeded to fold me inside the heavyweight plastic sheet so carefully laid on the couch prior to the session. Once again, an illustration of the planning and attention to detail Maggie deploys when arranging sessions for her slaves. The sheet was gradually folded round me and as a bit more was covered, on went body straps at strategic parts; ankles thighs legs, torso etc. but always leaving access to cock and balls. Very thoughtful of Maggie as next in my dressing instructions were a pair of flexible electrodes around balls and base of cock. The electrics were set to a slow regular rhythm. Enough to harden but not enough to cause embarrassment.

Throughout the rest of my time strapped to the couch the gentle pulsing motion of the electrics was maintained. Maggie occasionally varied the power but the rhythm never varied. It was like experiencing a slow wank that was never going to get me where I needed to go. Maggie was back twiddling the gas station valves and my gas mask pipe transferred to the bubble system, Maggie joined me in the gas station thrills by donning and connecting her own smaller gas mask to the machine. I sucked and bubbled through the bubble bottle. Maggie sucked and bubbled through the bottle and all in all we had a delightfully bubbly time. No aromas at this stage as Maggie keeps a clear head and authority at all times. I did suspect that the airflow was biased in Maggie's favour as it seemed I needed more puff per bubble.

Maggie removed our masks and replaced mine with the rather nice clear plastic re-breather hood. At last I could see a little more of the Clinic and more importantly, of Maggie still in black skirt and tight olive semi see-through top. A little more aromas via the small breather holes, a few adjustments to the power, the straps were tightened and we were off on another adventure. And then time for something new as I was introduced to the Bardex when both bulbs were inflated and Maggie said I was to take and hold 750 mls. "Hayley Mills, Boundary Mill, Black Dyke Mills . . ." I quipped and fortunately Maggie found that amusing and not insolent. I have comfortably taken larger enemas but Maggie wanted her slave to retain the bellyful of liquid she was busy mixing and would be plugging the outlet pipe to stop any leakage. Strapped inside the green plastic cocoon I was in no position to hop off the couch and run to the bathroom anyway. She did offer 2 litres when I queried the volume but I thought it sensible to exercise slave discretion at this point. Mistress said best not to be too ambitious and that 750 mls was duly sufficient and safe to get me started with my new plugged and inflated Bardex experience.

It was really strange and on reflection perhaps I could have accepted the larger volume. At first the liquid seemed to be making very slow progress down the enema pipe, neither of us could be really sure that the soapy solution was actually entering my colon until the bag gurgled and spluttered and was finally empty. That was it. 750 mls in and sealed. Clean soapy solution was all captured, together with her slave inside one very nice plasticky bundle. Every now and then Maggie would stroke my captive cock, or add an extra pump to the Bardex inflatables, tighten the restraining straps a little more, mischievously stroke my abdomen to flirt with the enema. All part of the service of course.

On with a different black gas mask and on to the next delights, an extended period of controlled breathing, Maggie screwed a rubber rebreather bag on to the top of her gas station, a quick check that I was OK with the reduced air supply then everything went black, my heavy breaths masked out any other sound in the clinic and once again Mistress had her slave firmly in her clutches awaiting her next attentions.

After the period of dark solitude wearing the bug eyes, Maggie finally released the cock cage. I was given strict instructions to hold any natural reactions to the added freedom as Mistress pulled on a pair of wrist gloves, then oiled and massaged me. “Yes” I said. I was trying not to embarrass myself, again, and we agreed I had controlled myself far better than earlier sessions. Mistress told me to hold for 30 seconds until relieved and started to count backwards as she continued to titillate. 30, 29, 28, 27, 26 . . . Bollocks failed again! However I am getting nearer being totally controlled by Maggie.

I have to confess, I was embarrassed when Mistress removed the Bardex with me sat on the loo and I was told to go expel the contents. 750 mls came out like an express train and the cacophony of sound must have been heard next door and I am sure sounded more like 75 litres. On the positive side I did receive a nice compliment from Maggie about how smooth I had managed to get my bum cheeks for an easy insertion of the plug. I felt really pleased with that one small compliment. I had tried hard to be smooth for Maggie and the extra effort had not gone unnoticed.

I know. I am a really lucky slave.

Intense New Experiences

I have just taken part in what ranks as one of the best, if not the best training session with Mistress Maggie in all my career as a trainee slave. The experience has left me really excited about what Maggie may expect of me in the future; it has allowed me to experience two totally new sensual experiences and has left me with a smile to rival the Cheshire Cat. I am, in short, one really happy slave and I make no apology for singing the praises of one very exceptional Mistress.

As frequently happens, the call-up mail that Maggie sent me was tantalisingly vague about the delights that were to unravel between the time she answered the door in her incredibly sensual Haute Couture plastic mac, to the very final actions of clearing away after the session. "Expect a plastic Mistress decorated in rubber. A session focused on dressing for pleasure, allowing new ways to worship and serve your Aquarian Goddess." A few hints, perhaps new clothes to wear, and possibly some watersports and certainly something exciting and new in how I can serve my Mistress. The brief synopsis is such an understatement of the session I was about to experience.

I followed Maggie up the stairs, tempted to get up close to that mesmeric vision of Mistresses wonderful stern as it ascended towards the playroom. Only tempted though because I knew anything else would overstep the mark. Just using my imagination and trying very hard to see through the semi opaque material of the mac. It is definitely not just a plastic mac. I have briefly mentioned it before as a very well cut voluminous and incredibly sexy piece of art from Rubber Eva, and Mistress Maggie wears it with the extreme confidence and grace of someone who knows just how sexy and good it looks on her.

In the Playroom, I caught the briefest glimpse of the red rubber suit that Maggie had recently completed, hanging innocently next to the cell. Maggie explained that I would have the privilege of christening the garment but because it was made of thin rubber I needed to be VERY careful. Returning in rubber gloves and socks, Maggie made quick work of fitting a heavyweight hood and gently eased me into the red medical suit. I can't begin to describe the incredible feeling as it settled loosely all over and it felt silky smooth after the chlorination. Maggie adjusted and smiled and adjusted a bit more and smiled a bit more until finally she was satisfied that I was doing her creation justice. Once happy, on went a tightly applied piece of rope round the base of my balls, just to keep them in order, and the stout waist corset tightened to a very snug fit. I was in love with this outfit and already it was sending shivers down my spine.

Then another mind bomb. Mistress describing how the session was planned to progress made the subtlest hint that I would be trained to serve food and other ancillaries and, if the training went well Maggie may consider allowing me to serve some of her friends if the occasion ever arose. I don't know if Maggie was testing my reaction to publicly serving her but my mind went into overdrive. Mistress might actually be satisfied with the progress in my training and feels confident that I would not embarrass her, but it set my own personal aims for the whole session; do my absolute best. Prove to Maggie that I could be trusted and then see what happens later on. First the new suit then the hint of proper servitude, already this was proving to be one hell of a session.

I may well have fallen flat on my face at the first hurdle as Maggie instructed me to go to the Clinic, locate the box on the steps, put on whatever I found inside and return to the Playroom. A new hood or a new collar perhaps? The box was a plain, medium sized ordinary looking box, but inside the contents revealed an exquisite pair of black leather ballet boots with the highest heels you could ever imagine and clearly big enough to fit my size eleven plates of meat. I set about unlacing one boot and managed, after a struggle to place it on my left leg.

I was just starting to try and do up the laces when a perplexed head appeared round the clinic door asking why I was taking so long. I explained that I was unable to clearly see the eyelets and was struggling to lace up the boot. Maggie cracked out laughing with that 'how absolutely, amazingly stupid can a slave get' laugh and explained that there was a zip down each boot. What a pillock! I never saw them and Maggie then spent the next 10 minutes re-lacing the boots. It was light hearted and the banter was both ways as I sat and watched Maggie's progress. Once re-laced I had no problems with the zips. On in thirty seconds and both legs looked stunning. I did manage to stand, much to Maggie's alarm, and was told in no uncertain terms not to try and walk as she didn't want her slave damaged.

With the boots on, I was about 10cm above the top of the door and was pleased at Maggie's intervention. I didn't want to damage her property either. Maggie meant to slow me down a little when serving her. I was to crawl.

Back to the playroom on all fours to have the rear part of the zip tested. Down went the three way to expose my ass hole and with almost no effort, a little lubrication and no discomfort, in went the curved stainless steel anal hook to be attached to a short rope through my collar. By pulling on the rope my head was pulled backwards and a rudimentary form of control introduced to Maggie's four legged friend.

Walkies to the bathroom for Maggie to refill her glass and return to the Playroom. Crawling in the Medical suit must be done with care, especially on the metal strips between rooms. The last thing I wanted was to damage this incredible creation. Once satisfied with her slaves slow but steady progress through the rooms, it was time for a little more instruction about how I was to serve Mistress and once again that real mind fuck, perhaps how to serve others. Ears pricked up again as I very quickly said 'yes please Mistress' I will keep that thought if I am lucky enough for Maggie to use me in such a way. It may all be in my mind as fantasy, we shall see.

Aware of her slaves foibles and shortcomings, Maggie allowed me to kneel to attention on a cushion. Mistress is incredibly thoughtful to her slaves well being and knows that after a while crawling and walking to heel, my wonky knees can become a problem. Mistress indulged in a little more orthodox fuck and had me suck the giant strap-on that crept out from underneath the mac, the resultant gap in the soft folds of the mac giving a marvellous vision of the transparent PVC pants Maggie was wearing. Once again totally and permanently isolated and denied from her frustrated slave, but if Maggie had not wanted me to look at least I would have been blindfolded!

For a more traditional approach to a good fuck Maggie helped me to remove the ballet boots and bent me over the bench for the privilege of a good arse fuck. It had been a while since my last one and Maggie took it slowly. By the time Mistress said we were moving on to the next phase of training, I really didn't want her to stop. It did make it a lot easier for Maggie to insert my own butt plug for the remainder of the training.

Ah, the next phase! We were to move on to my formal server training showing me how I would be expected to behave if Maggie was, in the most unlikely event, to use me with her friends. Perhaps I wasn't dreaming after all! By now the heat of the heavy hood coupled with the build up inside the suit was making me sweat profusely, the heavy hood needed to be removed as my ears were starting to fill with water. The heat inside the suit was a different matter. The loose material was moist and started sticking to every part of the body it came in contact with. Maggie thought it was causing me discomfort and started easing the stuck bits away from my body. On the contrary. It is an incredible feeling and one that I would like to repeat many times. Because of its loose fit, I really cannot describe the feelings I was experiencing as it teased an arm or leg or wherever and then released itself as I moved. I have worn a few rubber garments now and the feeling of this one is probably the best experience yet.

On to my server training; for the uninitiated I am definitely not referring to those electrical thingies that whir away in corners of offices but serving on in a catering situation. I sat patiently with my hands secured behind and the gag firmly but comfortably in place as Maggie attached the posture collar and began attaching a tray with strategically placed straps and a neck chain. The structure was surprisingly secure and remained in place when I stood, turned or moved round the playroom. Now the acid test, could I be trusted with Mistresses lunch. Through to the next room where Maggie placed a plate of sandwiches and bowl of strawberries and cream on the tray then to the bathroom for a refill of Maggie's drink. It bode well for any water sports as Mistress was taking on a lot of fuel that had to be expelled later.

With a little more practice I think I will make at least a passable server slave. A little water spillage at first until Maggie advised me that by taking smaller steps, I would make a more stable table and even negotiated the doors without too much further spillage. I was given guidance on how to watch the hypothetical guests, deliver the tray to them and practised these newly acquired skills round the Playroom as Maggie consumed her lunch and laughed at how I overcame each hurdle. Even Ted was offered something from the tray but, rather rudely made no effort to reply or even acknowledge my existence. I didn't mind though, it was all good training. Once again I was only able to stand at a suitable distance and admire how sexy a woman can look just consuming her sandwich and strawberries. A wonderful but frustrating sight.

With the serving complete it was time for slave to have my drink. Out came the swing and attached to the overhead gantry. Maggie and her incredible sense of humour demonstrated how to sit comfortable in the swing and even had me gently swing her back and forth. It was really good to hear her laughter as she swung gently, kicking my balls as she swung forward and making lewd gestures towards her see through pants as she swung backwards, knowing full well that my training has reached a stage where I am not allowed to react to such provocative actions.

Last time I was acquainted with the swing, I had hot candle wax dripped on my cock and balls. This time was much more relaxing with wrists lightly strapped to the swing only to be rudely interrupted by Maggie attaching the pair of nipple clamps. "When I pull, you open your mouth and receive a drink. OK?" This session just continued to get better and better.

As a precaution for spillage Maggie covered the surrounding floor with a PVC sheet making sure it would catch any overflow from my very willing but limited capacity mouth. Once satisfied Maggie indulged in a little more fun before my refreshment. This time, I did get up close and really personal with that pair of see-through pants Mistress was still wearing. A wonderful feeling to be sat on in both directions by your Mistress. She has a wonderful ass and I was busy trying to clean the PVC as fast as my tongue would allow. The view up to Mistresses face as she settled on my mouth and nose was something that I will not forget. It was impossible to capture that vision on camera but this blog will act as my memories into what was an incredibly beautiful scene.

Time for refreshment. Off came the pants, on went Maggie and I was told to drink the lot. I think I managed most of the wine as I appeared to be at a much better angle to allow it to flow freely into my mouth and in between spurts, comfortably swallowed what was a very good brew. There was inevitable spillage but I tried desperately hard to catch every last drop. I finally had my drink.

I did say at the start that my enthusiasm for the whole session rated it as the best or one of the best ever. You have probably gathered from my lengthy blog why I consider it to be so exciting. The new suit, ballet boots, a good arse fuck, serving training and the possibility of more to come, and the very relaxing and gentle way Maggie introduced my liquid refreshment. Of course the main reason it was so exciting was being with a very radiant Maggie in excellent form; her sense of humour always on display, her mischievous side rarely below the surface and just her general way of making one of her slaves feel wanted. Thank you Mistress Maggie.

Water Sports

As happens, being a humble and frequently stupid slave, I had disappointed Mistress Maggie with a rather unfortunate web posting. I had posted her special website update under the wrong thread. Her annoyance was obvious from the e-mails that Mistress fired at me in rather quick succession. “ . . . I was so annoyed that I couldn’t type fast enough . . . " I tried to rectify my mistake but the damage had been done. I had been really stupid and careless and I was told in no uncertain terms “ . . . I am still annoyed slave, the whole thing is so embarrassing. You will suffer for it." Oh well the die was cast and it came as no surprise when my calling e-mail contained the following: “ . . . Your punishment for stupidity will be carried out on arrival, very quickly with no warm up." That to me meant a good caning for my indiscretion. Straight in, pants down, whack whack whack . . .

Maggie looked fantastic as always, dressed in black and red rubber leotard, stockings and long gloves, she clipped on the lead and led me to my caning. First I was asked to present myself for my punishment wearing my smallest pair of shorts. So far no surprises as I was fixed by wrist shackles to the wooden bondage chair in a suitable position with legs apart, head down, heavy iron collar padlocked round my neck, a metal hook inserted in my bum which in turn was attached by rope to the collar that Maggie fitted. A yank on the rope and my head was forced backwards, in fact just right for a few thwacks of my deserving punishment.

But Maggie did not come up behind me with a cane, she appeared with a half full bucket of water and parked it on the seat in front of me, and topped it up from another container and finally, generous amounts of ice cubes added for good measure. Even for a punishment, that was far too much for me to drink and certainly represented a HUGE enema! Then it hit me. I had fallen hook (up my arse), line (from collar to anal plug and sinker (me sunk in the bucket). No warm up - of course! Mistress verified this declaring that “ . . . Stupidness wont be tolerated and you will learn your lesson with a bout of medieval punishment. You will be ducked, head held fully submersed three times”. Mistress pushed my head into the bucket, using the rope to raise my dripping head out of the water between dunks for a total of three times. I was relieved to avoid the cane but shocked and totally surprised by the cold alternative. After completing the punishment, Maggie, true to her word as always, then returned to normal service for the remaining part of the session.

I was given a towel and stood in front of the room fan to dry off before having a snug black hood zipped in place, there to stay for the rest of the session. Time for devotion and my attention was directed to the black rubber boots Mistress was wearing. I was also secretly pleased with the cooling water as the remnants trickled down my back and I did confess to Maggie afterwards that, but for the water ingress up my nose, I quite enjoyed my punishment on such a hot day.

Dried and hooded, I was led through to the Clinic where Mistress was going to use ‘experimental therapy’ to assist with preventing my premature climaxes that I had experienced in the previous sessions. No need to watch my language, Maggie attached the very effective penis shaped rubber gag. Effective but capable of being worn for extended periods once you have adjusted it inside your mouth. I wasn't complaining anyway. Mistress has a plan and I am always happy just to go with the flow of a good plan. Maggie suggested I should be circumcised and was about to mark a cutting line, a series of clamps were attached to retract my foreskin, my good luck that the clamps and my foreskin were not compatible, the clamps were quick to fall off and I managed to escape with my foreskin bitten but still intact. Maggie proceeded to apply her newly acquired ball clamps, essential in getting a really good grip on my unruly balls and squeezing everything out. Two squeezing ball clamps, one to each ball. I didn't say anything, and thank goodness for the gag but the clue as to why two of the clamps insisted on heading floor-wards may be in the name; nipple clamps not foreskin or cock clamps. I probably shouldn't write that!

To help the operation, Mistress applied a little e-stim. Electrode round cock and balls and one down the centre; set at program 7 level 17 to give a nice wash and tumble dry. Forever thoughtful of her slaves needs, Maggie enclosed my head in the opaque feeder hood and provided some frozen pee cubes in the funnel to help keep me hydrated. It takes a while for the cubes to melt even in the heat of the clinic and every now and then I got a delicious gulp of chilled wine whilst the wash and dry program worked down below. Mistress appeared happy but did say that I was to control myself for another half hour to confirm the therapy had worked.

And that was that. White hood removed, ball clamps removed (anti-clockwise to undo clamps, it’s wise to remember that otherwise Maggie will give a few mischievous clockwise tightening turns), electrics removed, gag removed whilst retaining the original black hood. I eased myself gently off the couch and Mistress led the way back to the Playroom.

OK now to check if the operation has been successful. Ten minutes and Mistress had me lightly tied to the rubber bed and draped the black rubber sheet from toes to chin, tucking me in quite snugly and proceeded to tease and gently taunt me with her evocative rubber ensemble. OK so far.

Twenty minutes and Maggie upped the anti by slithering and sliding all over me whilst I was getting a little warmer under the sheet. Still OK but I was beginning to wonder if I could restrain myself.

Thirty minutes and Maggie was letting her red panties get intimately acquainted with my nose whilst checking my cocks progress through two thick rubber layers. I think the operation may prove to be less than 100% effective because Maggie is very persuasive when in that mood.

Thirty one minutes and seven seconds (approximately) . . .  oh shit. The operation appears to have been only partially successful. I did resist for thirty minutes, but only just.

Camp Fire Capers

4th July and Mistress Maggie was determined to celebrate in good ol' fashioned ye ha style. I was greeted with Mistress in black rubber chaps, top and most prominently, what looked like a genuine, leather rimmed cowboy hat. At first glance in the dim light of the porch I would have sworn Mistress had nothing on under the chaps; a thought that momentarily took my breath away. Climbing the steps allowed a much closer examination with my face only inches from Mistresses excellent rear and was rather disappointed that Maggie had on an almost skin coloured pair of pants. I have made that climb on 62 previous occasions and the sight of Maggie's superbly formed buttocks clad in the many sensual outfits I have seen, continues to raise the biggest of smiles. My stainless steel ball weight was raising parts that other smiles couldn't reach.

Safely in the Playroom, it was obvious the bondage bed was to play a central part in the proceedings and had been moved to the centre of the arena. Now wearing my red latex stockings and gloves Maggie made first use of the bed, casually perched on the foot board as I undertook the ritual worship of her gold boots. Anyway, Maggie appears to have established a new precedent for the position used to insert my butt plug. On knees, forehead on the white rug and Maggie sitting astride my upturned rump as if she was in the saddle, albeit the wrong way round. A good dollop of lube, a little gentle massage and the butt plug was in. I'd better not have the fireside baked beans then.

I allowed myself a moments reflection of how far Maggie has brought me in my training from the early days where Maggie deemed it always appropriate to have me roped to the punishment bench and it took a lot of massage, huge dollops of lube and quite a lot of time before even the smallest of butt plugs was comfortably installed in my then reluctant arse.

Next, a sensual experience as Maggie helped me into my catsuit and then cleaned and polished to remove any remnants of talc. Some western accessories for the captured cowboy; a leather harness buckled on and studded leather strap snapped on to keep Mistresses pistol cocked properly. Less orthodox bed use as I was sat on the floor, back against the bed, cuffs on ankles and wrists and all attached to a spreader-bar with my cock, weighted balls and recently applied leather cock strap pointing ominously towards its central spigot. At least, that was one thing not to worry about as it wasn't in Maggie's plans to attach cock to spreader bar, more into a little extended breath play, clambering onto the bed and very effectively applying a plastic bag. Rather more air supplied than often for an effective gradual suffocation. Maggie had adjusted the full length mirror so I could appreciate the full effect of breath play with a stunning cow-girl.

A spell with the black helmet with slit-zipped eyes and mouth followed by a bit more bagging then onto the rather pleasant PVC breath control hood. A little tricky to install as, by this time I was moist to say the least, but once Maggie had worked her magic, it was really comfortable. Mistress likes her nipple play and today was no exception, a couple of nasty little buggers attached nipples to the spreaders’ spigot with strips of cow-hide. With my chin drawn up on a rope, I was then given the opportunity to examine Mistresses hot pants at a closer range. Tight spandex and very effective in blocking the two breathing holes, as the cow-girl rested her delightful bum cheeks on my clear plastic face.

I am in constant training, with shackles and hoods removed I was back on my knees improving my tongue work, lucky me having Maggie’s latex gloves and chaps to practice on, a real smooth licking experience.

More use of the bondage bed, at least this time it was a little more conventional. Maggie roped my arms, lassoed my legs and hitched them onto the conveniently located ceiling ring. I've said it before but Maggie does meticulously plan each session down to the positioning of the bed to utilise her lifting equipment. I think Maggie was a little disappointed with my bulk as she was hoping to get my legs up to my chest but had to make do with nearly vertical. It was, however rather comfortable and I could maintain that position until released.

What followed can only be described as a succession of slow, warm, vibrating and positively freezing sensations exciting my recently freed arse, all the while Maggie adjusting my ball weight, even with legs restrained at 90 degrees I could not help my hips rhythmically swaying, my loaded pistol brushing against Maggie’s gold spandex hotpants with the motion, she had jumped aboard and was clinging to my face with her rubber gloves, pinning my top half down as she tested her slaves resolve. I failed again and couldn't control myself.

Maggie did warn that it will be back to the Clinic for more control training and possible operation to 'help' me control her equipment.

Not once did Maggie take off her cowboy hat. Strange fetish that!