Just Hanging Around

After a comment by Mistress Maggie on her Flickr profile I turned up with a small bottle of gin and two small cans of tonic. I had spent a little time wrapping the items in what I hoped was a penis and balls shaped combination. Mistress got it straight away when I gave her the present, it was clear from her laughter and positive comments that we were going to have another really good training session.

Humorous at times, relaxed at times, painful at times, a little anxious at times, a little annoyance at times but above all enjoyable all the time. Today's session had all the above and I think after my previous 69 sessions with Mistress Maggie I may be making progress in understanding how to make Mistress happy with my efforts as her devoted slave. I had a fair inkling at the start of the session what two thirds of session content might be, but as usual no idea how those thirds were to be executed. Maggie hinted in my call up that I would face high level suspension and some serious breath play and referred vaguely to "setting the scene for some fine dining". This last comment intrigued me.

I returned from the bathroom and took up my obligatory kneeling position, head touching carpet, backside up in the air, ready to pay homage to Mistresses footwear, a pair of knee high patent laced boots. Mistress had instructed me to arrive wearing a steel ballweight; It feels strange with your butt high in the air, legs spread and forehead touching the carpet, balls pulled earthwards in that void between your legs. The slightest movement of hips setting your testicles swinging like a pendulum. After a brief spell worshipping Maggie's boots, I was turned over for a trampling with them, to remind me to lose more weight. I was beginning to dislike those boots!

More boot worship followed then Maggie instructed me to kneel the other way with arse facing her, ready to receive my butt plug, a little giggle from Maggie, a truly delightful sound, as she got the full vista of my weighted balls swinging freely between my legs. I think she is pleased with her stretching progress of my sphincter and was easily able to slip in my plug. It always provides me with a shudder as the widest part slips in past the stretched rim to settle securely in place, and caring as always Maggie asks "are you alright slave?" Oh yes!

Into my suit, another sensual experience that I think pleases Mistress as well, as we powdered the inside, stretched the skin and finally zipped me and butt plug securely inside. A little cleaning, a black latex hood and I was ready for the next stage. I stood passively, arms raised clutching the overhead ring as Maggie proceeded to expertly and snugly attach two rope harnesses; one around my ample girth and the other just below armpits.

I was soon to find out that these were to be attached to the ceiling suspension ring and this was where the anxiety crept in. Not because I was anxious about the suspension, definitely not, as I trust Mistress implicitly. No, the anxiety was both mine and Maggie's because in her enthusiasm to hook me up on the suspension ring, she pulled a little hard on a loose end of rope and it caught her eye and dislodged her contact lens. To me, it happened in slow-mo. I could see the end of the rope flick up, I could see it travelling in an arc towards Maggie's eye but I couldn't react in time. Maggie didn't see it coming and I could see her pain in that instant of impact. Nothing I could do. I was mortified.

After a moment to compose herself and a look on the floor Maggie realised that she had little prospect of finding it, particularly as we were slap bang in the middle of the shaggy carpet that forms the centre piece of the floor. Undaunted but a little disappointed Maggie fetched her glasses and the moment passed. Except it didn't. Many times where I should have been concentrating on my slave duties, I found my eyes scanning the floor for any glint of lens.

Mistress completed the vertical suspension ropes and had me relax back into the suspension but still with both feet on the ground. I was really relaxed and knew I was safe and actually started humming. Maggie did not appreciate that and secured a red gas mask over my latex helmet to drown out any further humming. "Shut up and shut your eyes, slave" was her command, and with the help of some powder Mistress eased it on. I had no trouble with having first one leg and then the other tied to the overhead, leaving me flying like a bird. This was fun. I tried to pirouette like a skater bending a knee and attempting to rotate in my harness. 

And now for a little flying discipline. As I was gently rotating peering through the misted goggles of the mask, Mistress helped my spinning and then encouraged attention with the paddle. Every time a suitable target swung into range, it received a good spanking. Gentle at first but as she found her range, more regular and harder accompanied by laughter as I wriggled to avoid the next one, only enhancing my swing. I was still having fun though and occasionally Mistress would stray between my legs to get a better target and in those fleeting moments I was able to squeeze Mistress between my ankles. An extra rap with the paddle soon ended that, but I thought it was fun anyway.

After a suitable time, Maggie carefully undid all her knots and gently released my bindings. I safely landed and was able to stand without any dizziness after my swinging experience. Not over yet though. Maggie's plans were to utilise several of her major furniture items. The next to be moved centre stage was the high horse.

No bondage, ropes or gags. I am now sufficiently well trained to be told what to do, how to behave and then not let my Mistress down. When I first lent over the horse, I was in the traditional position with legs on the floor and my cock and balls 'humping' the end. Whether Maggie thought I was at the wrong angle or the impact of her blows was not sufficient, I was told to move further on to the bench with my head over the end and toes just touching the sides of the rear legs. It actually tightens your cheek muscles and I could see this would present a better target for Maggie as she set about my backside with her dressage whip and flogger. It was an incredibly relaxed and comfy position and one I had never previously achieved over the horse.

A funny thing about a good, tight latex suit is that it appears to spread and absorb the impact from both of Mistresses chosen implements. A bare bottom attack with the same intensity would have had me begging Maggie to stop quite quickly. As it was, I repeatedly heard the swish of the dressage whip, heard the resounding thwack as it struck home and felt the impact but somehow it took a lot longer for the sensations to build in my cheeks. Maggie did continue until my toes started to curl, but that too was a pleasant sensation. I had all my weight on the horse with nothing on my legs and it felt rather nice. I owned up afterwards to rather enjoying the flogging and how much the taught rubber removes the pain. Although I thought I might regret that comment in future, Maggie knew already which is why she continued until toe curling occurred. Mistress is truly remarkable with her perception about what her slaves should be comfortable with.

As I was luxuriating in the glowing warmth Maggie had managed to impart into my buttocks, Maggie was readying the next piece of equipment for use on her slave. I have experienced the low padded bench used in many ways during my training. This time, back to bench and hooded head comfortably resting on the padding, the dangly bits like legs could do their own thing trailing off the other end of the bench. When asked what colour rope I’d like for my 70th session I answered blue, but promptly changed to green when Maggie said the only blue rope she had was a short length that she uses to wrap round a slaves balls twenty times. No green rope at all so I settled on black. I was being awkward and Maggie knew it. Oh well, I know how to get myself into more trouble.

Anyway, with me secured to the bench and more importantly, arms nicely out of the way, Maggie progressed to clarify the second of the three hints in the call up mail. "Mistress will be wearing rubber that can mould itself to the shape of your face". I think it’s fairly clear what Maggie intended although I wasn't expecting the moulding to be achieved by Mistresses perfectly formed buttocks. Maggie has used me as a stool before but the seal this time was absolutely perfect. In fact so perfect that I started to panic. I couldn't breathe in or out. Blow as hard as I might all I could generate was the sound of a fart as the air sought any exit from its rubbery prison. As for breathing in. No chance. Much as I loved the sensation of the latex clad crevice descending on my nose and mouth, the survival instinct just couldn't be overridden. What a dilemma, be smothered by the perfect derriere or be a wimp and struggle for air. I think I disappointed Maggie by begging so soon, of course I was temporarily released to gulp a very welcome lungful of air. Sorry Maggie if on this occasion I let you down but your ass is a perfect fit over my face.

The final piece of equipment Maggie wanted to reacquaint me with was the trample table. A low, substantially built table with a hole for cock and balls to be presented for . . . yep, trampling on. Mistress brought a selection of playroom cushions to raise my bits to the required level, it took three or four to provide sufficient elevation. This was the only area that Maggie was unsure of. Would the steel ball weight that I was still wearing provide help or hindrance? Either eventuality was covered as I had been instructed to report to the session with the allen key to open the ball weight. It wasn't needed and for future reference, the circular steel weight provides a perfect collar to prevent cock and balls escaping downwards through the hole. Hmmm. Maybe not such a good idea after all but Maggie was happy and set about her decoration.

I had no idea what she was doing but it felt pleasant with the occasional peel of laughter, the clank of several heavy steel items, a judicious chain and short lengths of rope, Maggie seemed happy with her creation and sat back to admire her table centre piece; my cock, balls, and many ornaments! At least she didn't stick a candle in the end, that was reserved for a steel penis plug. What she did do was fetch three cooking implements and the electrics from the Clinic to help 'cook' her meal and then enjoy it. Balls had a flexible electrode attached and I was given the choice of which piece to use first. What a choice. A flat bladed knife, a metal spaghetti server and the meat fork that had been used to great effect during an early cling film session. I chose first the knife and then the spaghetti server. As it turned out it didn't really matter which. Each was capable of cooking cock and balls. But it was now clear what the third hint was on the calling mail . . . "setting the scene for some fine dining." Why can't Maggie have plastic knives and forks and a nylon spaghetti server, after all this is 2014!

For aperitif, Maggie set about wine making or at least trampling my balls after she had finished her meal. You wont be surprised that the G&T remained unopened, because Maggie never drinks while attending to her slaves as she needs 100% faculties to ensure the slaves aren't damaged. Well, not too much anyway.

And if any reader having read this is lucky enough to be granted a session with Mistress, keep one eye out for a shiny object lodged in a crack somewhere. If you find that contact lens you may be in line for 100's of Brownie points, or you may just receive a good hiding.

Football and Frolics

A lot happened today; quite a lot involving Mistress Maggies sadistic side.

Barely through the front door and even before I had time to say how stunning she looked, Mistress had me pinioned against the wall as she administered a healthy lungful or two of liquid aroma using the trusty cloth over mouth and nose method. Mistress appeared angry and hissed as she said she had had to deal with a load of bollocks this week and her slave would be used to vent her frustration. I knew it was going to be one of those days as, without further conversation, the lead was attached to my slave collar and I was dragged brusquely up to the Playroom

"Do you like my boots slave?" I was about to answer when the first well aimed kick had my balls travelling upwards to come to rest somewhere near my adams apple and real tears welling in my eyeballs. I was of course by now gagged, and tried to absorb the searing shock and pain as I hung limply from my shackled arms. I wasn't sure which was worst, the kick I could see and try and brace for, or the ones from behind through my well spread legs. They both hurt like hell. I was allowed just enough time to catch my breath before another well aimed blow took it away again. The odd crack of the whip added to the 'interest' of the moment.

Fortunately Maggie isn't totally sadistic and could see when I was really struggling to absorb the pain and just at the right time declared an end to football practise. I was to receive further instruction in using my chest when two of the nastiest nipple clamps were applied and left there to work their insidious magic.

I saw glimmers that Mistress may have vented some of that anger as she instructed me to use the knee pads for the brisk couple of laps round the Playroom. Apart from the hood with partially zipped eye holes and closed mouth, it appeared back to relative normality. Mistress gets the best performance from this slave when I am not muttering about painful or aching knee joints. Mistress didn't even feel the need to give me more kicking but I was trying hard to remember my basic heel training. Speaking of which, I finally managed my thigh boot worship that, but for the ball kicking, would have heralded the beginning of a normal session. The boots looked and tasted a little more angry than usual, probably due to the close proximity to my balls as they were being kicked and booted.

I was transferred to the low bench to experience the softer side as Mistress lubed my arse, drugged me with another couple of breaths of aroma and proceeded to mount me with the small strap on for five minutes. I knew it was five minutes as Maggie ordered her iPod to "set timer to five minutes" and received the reply "timer set" from another willing acolyte. Not only enjoyable but quite tuneful as each thrust set the bells tinkling on the nipple clamps. More sniffs from the bottle were ordered and more lube applied then I was not quite sure what was happening, but it felt like a hole borer was wriggling about in my arse. I was told later it was a Hitachi wand to further widen my orifice. I do accumulate a lot of very valuable information in my training sessions.

Not quite so amusing when I was transferred and roped to the high horse. The clamps were pinioned onto my chest adding another sensation to my already taxed nipples. Mistress squirted some de-sensitising spray on my arse-hole and I was to wait a short time for it to begin working, aromas used again to de-sensitise me further and Maggie, now wearing a much larger lubed up strap-on was positioning herself behind me.

"Set timer to five minutes", "timer set" was followed by an altogether more uncomfortable five minutes. Well, initially uncomfortable as Maggie gently introduced her larger strap on. It took a lot of stretching, a little discomfort but I was determined not to let Maggie down and gradually and incessantly the new invader reached its mark. I think I eventually took the whole length but only Maggie can confirm that. By the end of the five minutes, Mistress suggested an extra 90 seconds due to the slow start and I was to let her know when extra time was over. I managed to spin it out to at least two minutes. By that time I was starting to enjoy the sensations in my newly reamed arsehole. 

After all the drilling, stretching, boring and pushing Maggie had no difficulty with fitting my own butt plug. In fact I think my arse was relieved to say hello to an old friend as it dived back into its home ground.

Underneath that sadistic side, there is always the caring Maggie who looks after her slaves and I was reintroduced to the loose fitting red exercise suit. The transformation from ball beating to being gently guided into the suit by my Mistress was amazing. I sat and luxuriated, feeling a little guilty that I allowed Maggie to do all the work, as it slipped and slithered all the way up to my neck, topped off with the comfortable and snugly fitting waist corset that goes so well with the looseness of the suit. The three way zip allowed my cock and balls to be on the outside whilst the rest of me was protected by the latex suit, gloves, stockings and zippered hood. I told you Mistress had a softer side.

Adjourning to the White Room, Mistress planned to continue with her  pre-session e-mail of "helping me to find larger spaces to put my toys". I already had found a home for the strap-on and we were now going to explore where her rosebud sounds could be stored. I was lead through to the Clinic and made comfortable with my calves widely spread and strapped in position, then body and wrist straps secured this willing subject to the chair. Another dose of relaxant aroma was administered using the small facial mask and pad soaked in the wonder fuel. Careful as ever, Maggie donned her sterile latex gloves, flexed fingers to make sure they were positioned correctly, applied sufficient lubrication and then started the gentle insertions. The first and second sounds were in with no problems whatsoever. The third slipped in relatively easily and at that, Maggie was satisfied that her planned work was done. Apart from my cocks ability to naturally expel all sounds! Not this time. Maggie used a convenient length of playroom rope to create an effective sling.

A "well done slave" as the sounds settled at full length encouraged me to ask about a fourth one. Am I mad, was it bravado or just wanting to please my Mistress or was I adrift on a wave of euphoria brought on by the effect of the aromas? Whatever the reasons, I suggested trying the fourth and largest sound. At first Mistress was understandably reluctant but could see the potential, and after a bit more aroma gently inserted the fourth sound. It took a while, some gentle encouraging massage but the fourth sound did eventually settle in its new home, together with its three companions, as did the gold plated vibrator that Maggie applied to the ends of all four sounds. That feeling was intense. Having four sounds wriggling around their tight new home is, well, most stimulating.
Maggie is never one to be wasteful, and having removed my rubber hood she used the remnants of the good bottle of aroma to soak a cotton pad which she had taped to the inside of a plastic bag. The bag was then placed over my head and held in place until both the air and the aroma were completely depleted.

After removing the four sounds, Maggie had a novel way of cleaning out the inside of the urethra. Another pair of latex gloves, lots of lube, a gentle massage resulted in a quick eruption from within and a cleaned out tube. Simple and effective. Mistress was pleased with her spot of cleaning and was a fitting end to another excellent albeit painful at times, sixty-ninth session.

Maggie did advise that there may be some tenderness for a short while with my insistence on trying the fourth sound and the first pee afterwards was a little uncomfortable but then everything was back to normal, although my balls did feel a little tender for a while. Hardly surprising considering all the corner kicks, passes and penalty kicks they endured.

Leisurely in Latex

Today was an altogether more relaxed and gentler session than the severe waxing, breath play and endurance of the previous lesson. It was a fitting celebration of three years of training under an excellent and exceptional Mistress Maggie and as any caring slave would, I brought a bunch of flowers for my Mistress. Her radiant smile suggested it may have been the correct response to 67 previous sessions over three years.

What a wonderful vision greeted me. Mistress with her raven black hair complementing the oh so tight black shiny rubber catsuit of her own design and creation. Two flashes of red at gloves and boots created a spectacular vision. Following Mistress up stairs with her wonderfully shaped buttocks tightly encased, every move like liquid black gold, undulating, swaying and catching every shimmer of light in the hall, was the start of a wonderful anniversary session.

It wasn't long before Mistress had me head to tail in my own latex catsuit, but not before letting me get up close and personal with the red boots and Mistress getting up close and very personal with a strap on dildo "just to loosen you up a bit for your own plug”. I drifted back to that first session and remembered how green I was then, yet today without hesitation I was kneeling on the low bench eagerly offering my ass hole to Mistress and with a little lube she was in. I think Mistress was satisfied with the progress her slave has made, certainly in that area. Maggie and her lubed up strap-on had done a thorough job and my butt plug was easily fitted.

It is a really wonderful experience to be dressed by your Mistress. This isn't laziness on my part, just that I simply can't squeeze into my suit without assistance. To be pulled, pushed, squeezed and finally zipped inside then to be polished by Mistress is heavenly. The chill as the polish is sprayed, the firm but gentle polishing of my suit and then it was my turn for polishing duty, I got the opportunity to give Mistress in her latex catsuit a high shine. At the end of the polish, we had a very shiny rubber clad Mistress and slave.

Over the bench again, this time to have electrodes stuck between my arse and scrotum, my cock and balls pulled prominently through the three way zip. The 'normal' dressing was adorned with the stout leather harness and a couple of buckled cock straps that Mistress fitted securing my imprisoned cock to the main harness. I did wonder why but wasn't going to question this joining because Maggie is in charge and her plans are always exciting for her slave.

I do like a nice snug harness, it reinforces ownership and feels secure; a bit like a car seat belt. Today a quick twitch of the main harness resulted in a quick twitch of the attached cock harness. This wasn't the only method used to twitch cock and balls. Maggie had ensured that the e-stim had brand new batteries and set the program to 'throb' for the rest of the session. Rather nice but when Maggie reads this blog I suspect my comments will prompt more intricate harnesses and certainly more severe 'throbbing'.

More arm binding restraint for my arms, some pulling and lacing plus a couple of straps made my arms totally obsolete and useless appendages secured behind my back and me perched on the edge of the low stool.

And that was the last I saw for a while. Mistress covered my eyes with a very effective blindfold. No chance of any light leaking through any cracks but to be doubly sure Maggie pulled hard, supporting my back with her knee to get my head suitably installed into her padded leather helmet but once secured and laced up tight it was wonderful to wear, easy to breathe in and almost soundproof. This quiet solitude was reinforced by Mistress applying a pair of ear muffs and saying rather loudly "Are your ears comfortable and are they covered?”, I barely heard but grunted an affirmative response. I chuckled as I realised they weren’t ear muffs at all, but a pair of headphones positioned over my ears, softly playing the clanking sound of railway waggons. Once again, exemplary planning by Maggie. She knows one of my hobbies is steam trains and I thought how wonderfully relaxing. I did have a major dilemma. Should I be getting a raging erection whilst listening to railway sounds and would Mistress think me a head case or a real pervert for doing so?

Maggie then expertly had my feet zipped into the ballet boots. If I'm honest, I am starting to like the feel of the boots, which is why I could identify them even though I had nil visibility and in the pictures they do produce smooth leg lines. I got a perverse pleasure knowing that Mistress had fitted them so quickly and they were starting to be really comfortable. Seated on the low bench with knees raised and shoulders forced back was a challenging position to maintain, thankfully not one I needed to endure for too long as Maggie moved me and my bondage to the rubber bed to prepare me for a spot of urethral stretching. In our post session analysis we both concluded that the bondage chair would be a better place to seat tall slaves wearing bondage boots. No doubt Mistress will be trying that out in the near future.

Relocated to the bed it was time for sounds at the other end. I was still wearing the arm harness and audio mask so could neither see nor hear much and my arms were still useless. I had taken delivery of a new piss through plug and asked Maggie to try and fit it for me, some steady dilation was required and I could feel the normal sounds going in fairly easily, each one filling my penis a little more, but when it came to the new ribbed sound it was a struggle to get it comfortably past the first bauble. Maggie never forces sounds into that delicate little tract and said it was something to work towards in the future. The sounds do appear to have a mind of their own because whenever Maggie leant back to take a photo, the little blighters bolted for freedom and slithered onto my rubber stomach, causing a moment of natural humour in our session. Another being that one of the sticky electrodes previously secured next to my butt plug, next appeared half way down the outside left leg of my cat suit. Strange happenings at the Playroom me thinks. Perhaps the Force is strong with Jedi Mistress Maggie?
Maggie released me, my arms freed, harness unbuckled and my head removed from the padded hood, I was then restrained in a simpler spreadeagled position. Of course, she couldn’t resist a little breath play with her slave and a large latex bed sheet was laid over me. First the sheet was drawn up over my face and stretched tight over mouth and nose, then that wonderfully formed latex clad derriere came down on my face sealing my airways, then a bit of both provided a climax to the session.

It was really nice when Maggie joined me for a wonderful rubber cuddle between the rubber bed sheets, but before freeing my hands I had to promise that I would only use them to stroke her buttocks. Once I receive an instruction I obey Maggie implicitly, although I do understand why Mistress wanted to reinforce my training with me making that promise. I am, after all only human despite my slave status and Maggie is an incredibly attractive Mistress. I do and did always keep my promises to Maggie; the consequences of disobeying are unthinkable and intolerable to me. I reiterate that Maggie has got the best latex clad bottom that a slave could ever wish for and is a real joy to stroke my latex gloved hands gently over those fine, tight latex clad orbs.

As the anniversary session came to a close we stripped off our latex suits. We had both been perspiring fairly heavily and I was invited and very eagerly accepted Maggie's instruction to lick clean the inside of her discarded suit. Essence of Mistress is an incredible stimulant.

Another of the endearing memories of a wonderful anniversary session was Maggie again allowing me to pedicure her feet. It may be odd but I just like doing something caring and gentle for my Mistress.

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.