Leather Bondage

Despite always trying to give 100% to please my Mistress, I seem to often get things wrong, and today I was really in her bad books. I had misunderstood some instructions that Mistress Maggie had given me and ended up creating unnecessary work for her, not good as Maggie already had an extremely busy week with little time to spare. I hoped that I could redeem myself, but there is always a consequence for poor work and so it emerged in my calling mail . . . Mistress is ready to administer some strict leather and discipline. It will be horizontal stripes aplenty . . . 

I was to receive a caning, cropping, tawsing or something similar to encourage better attention. I thought it might be a good idea to save Mistress some time and arrive wearing my butt plug, and wear my latex socks in an attempt to please her. The moment I entered, Maggie snapped a lead on my slave collar and marched me upstairs. Perhaps Maggie did have a heart and she appreciated my attempts to ingratiate myself.

None of it. I was slapped, hard, several times and sent to the bathroom, this time to remove the socks and butt plug and return to the playroom wearing nothing rubber at all. In the bathroom there was a note taped to the wall.

It was quite clear. 20 strokes of the cane. My heart sank because I knew there was no changing the course of my punishment. Maggie had decided twenty and twenty I would receive, but before the formalities, Mistress was going to have a bit of fun with her slave. I was ordered to demonstrate how I’d inserted my plug at home, and was pleased that I managed to contort myself in a way that I could slip it in easily. Yes, and it slipped out again just as easily as Maggie promptly pulled it out of my ass and reinserted it the way 'she likes to do it'.

I was allowed a tight latex hood, which I was to wear for worship of Mistresses high heeled leather thigh boots, then while my tongue was still out Maggie suggested I might like to put it to work making something that was perfect even more perfect. She eased down her tight black leather trousers then her briefs, leaned over the whipping horse and tugged on my leash, forcing my nose right between her bum cheeks, I licked and sucked and licked and cleaned Mistresses arse hole until it shone. It was not enough, Maggie said I should learn what it’s like to be busy and should lick her arse faster and faster. Actually when I was finally told to stop Mistresses arse hole did shine with all my saliva, and at last Maggie said I had made an adequate job with my licking.

It was now my time over the horse but I was to be tied down so I couldn't move. Maggie asked if I had worked out how many strokes I would be receiving and laughed saying that she’d given a big hint in my calling mail - ’Stripes aplenty ...' rhymes with twenty!  I just smiled and thought of Rule 13: Mistress expects her slave to read minds at all times.

At least, the routine for a caning punishment is well established. A good five minutes hand slaps as warm up then change to the cane. Tap tap tap to gauge range, a couple of swishes, maybe a couple more range finders then THWACK followed by searing pain as the cane bites. A few moments to let me catch my breath, then swish tap tap THWACK. 

At 15 strokes Maggie asked how many. Don't make the mistake of not counting. ’15 Mistress’, I said confidently and it suddenly got easier. 16, 17, 18, 19 and finally 20. Remembering my earlier punishment, I very rapidly said ‘Thank you Mistress for helping to correct my failures’. At least I didn't earn another 20!. 

20 horizontal and perfectly parallel, symmetrical wheals that are still tender after three days. You can also just see more results of my carelessness on the floor. Talcum powder from my socks formed neat highlights at each footfall. I had to clean that up as well but not until Maggie had removed my plug and replaced it with a pumped up double bardex, just in case . . .

I must admit, it must be quite amusing for Mistress to witness her slave waddling around with the bulb knocking between my knees. I was just relieved to be told to replace the flogging horse back in its position beneath the window. Then I set about attacking my footsteps with a damp towel. That bit at least pleased my Mistress as all the talc prints disappeared.

Formalities over, Maggie was now going to convert me into a leather object by incarcerating her slave inside her leather sleep sack. My tight latex hood was replaced with the even tighter pewter inflatable one; a very comfortable model with sealed plastic lenses and breathing tube. Maggie chose to keep it deflated while she helped me inch myself into the heavy leather sleep suit. There are internal arm pockets and once zipped, laced and tightly strapped in I was in danger of falling over. Mistress, as you would expect, had thought of that and strapped me securely to the bars of the cell before fitting my head into a leather head cage. 

The head cage was a bit of a struggle for Maggie due to my height, but eventually I heard the click as the two halves fastened in place and its neck strap fixed with a buckle. A bulb pump was used to inflate my hood and as the hood inflated, given the restraints of the head cage there was only one way the pressure could go, inwards, making my face feel like it was in concrete. As added security, Mistress secured a stout chain through the shoulder straps and over the top bar of the cell door. Even if I wanted to I could not collapse in a heap on the floor.

Every now and then, Maggie appeared in my very limited field of vision, I could just make out through the misted perspex eye pieces that very disarming smile as she poked her finger in the end of the breathing tube to restrict my air supply. What could I do? Absolutely nothing, so I just thought of Maggie and hoped she got her finger out before I ran out of air. She did, but this was an intense hooding and breathplay experience, the simple act of gasping for available air was exerting, as I said, my head felt like it was cast in concrete, the pressure from the inflated hood prevented any facial movement and my mouth remained closed and clamped around my mouth tube.

I only got a small taste of this unique hooding sensation as Maggie had other plans for her leather object and after a little more breath control Maggie deflated the hood. At last I could take a large welcome gasp of air and check if I was able to still move my jaw.

The discreet entrances at cock and nipples were opened and Maggie attached a cock strap and reins at the bottom end and rather severe screw on nipple clamps at the top openings. Maggie had been toying with the idea of administering an enema through the bardex, but fortunately for me the bulb had managed to move into an unreachable position, so Maggie was satisfied with sitting on her throne and pulling on the cock strap, waggling the ropes until it came off. The cock strap not the cock! Although by now I was close to my cock cumming off.

The last vestiges of rubber were removed as my hood was replaced with a padded leather isolation hood. Comfy but all enveloping and impossible to see through. I was now exactly what Mistress had set out to achieve; her leather play slave.

To make matters even more leathery, Maggie gently eased her delicious leather covered buttocks against my groin and I just made out through the heavy hood her asking me a question.

‘Do you like leather slave?’.

Of course I love leather, Mistress had already told me I love leather. My easy reply, ‘Oh yes Mistress’.

'Then you can fuck my leather clothes slave’

As I thrust my groin against her leather clad body, Maggie persisted with her teasing. Nipples were still available and received the most sensual nibbling and biting a slave could ever dream of. The warm lips first on one nipple then the other, then the biting teeth nibbling a nipple and her leather glove covering my tiny air holes.

It was now that I realised why Maggie had attached the steel chain. I just sagged with the pure sensations that Mistress had created in her leathery toy. When she finally cropped the end of my cock and instructed me to cum. I came. Maggie saw and Maggie conquered. A well satiated slave who will continue to do anything for his Mistress.

This leather sleep sack is one helluva piece of equipment, but then again Mistress Maggie is one helluva Mistress.

Pain and the Edge

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hard Session in the Playroom

Every now and then Mistress Maggie designs a session that really tests her slaves resilience and staying power. Individual exercises can look innocuous, but when you string them together, you get a real work out. Today's session was just that. I was knackered towards the end of my exercises to the extent that Maggie enquired if I was all right. Oh yes. I might have looked clapped out but emotionally and mentally I was right there, and the feeling after the ordeal was one of inner peace and adoration for the perfect Mistress.

The calling mail totally confused me '. . . I am looking forward to climbing into some rubber too and engaging in more than a spot of titillation, while I dominate your erogenous zones you have a more simpler job of keeping a lookout for Mistress. . .' I spent quite a lot of the 24 hours between mail and session trying to work out Maggie's thinking and how best I could help my Mistress have a happy session. I eventually gave up because I knew that whatever Maggie was planning would inevitably have hidden surprises and new experiences.

Mistress sat relaxed on her throne as I conducted worship of her already shining shoes, with my backside ominously in the air and well within range of Maggie’s extended crop, which she occasionally flicked at me, not enough to cause pain, just enough to tease and excite. ’On your back now slave’ I was ordered onto my back with with my head looking up at Maggie's gorgeous thighs; a position that brought my nipples in play range of the long stiletto heels that I had been worshipping, and that is just what Mistress proceeded to do. Gently placing each heel in turn on those most sensitive of nipple spots, wriggling her heel tips in and applying more and more tenderising pressure. That really started to take my breath away, but not as much as my fabulous view. I was able to gaze at the back of the most anatomically perfect pair of thighs that you could wish

for, the very tops being teasingly covered by Maggie's black latex mini dress and the sheerest pair of tan tights. The intense pain didn't seem too bad as occasionally I caught a glimpse of my smiling Mistress through that little v-shaped gap at the top of that perfect matched pair of legs. At last, Maggie once again sat cross-legged and satisfied, my nipples were already tender and I was prepared for anything Maggie wished of me.

What a magical change in sensations as Maggie now helped me into some heavy-weight latex. I get the impression that it’s not just me that gets pleasure from this activity as I am squeezed, pulled pushed and coaxed into my catsuit, then hung up by the rafter ring for latex polishing. Gag to reduce moans, blindfold to stop spray and Mistress is perfectly happy for 10 minutes or so polishing, teasing, stroking and generally fussing over her rubbered slave. And me? - I’m naturally more than happy as the soft cloth moves over my latex skin and even softer hands get to places cloths and hands don't normally polish. I love this activity, and fortunately for me it is a regular and very welcome part of my training.

So far my session seemed to involve a lot of changing sensations, and the next one included the novel application of the Playroom stocks. I have experienced this item before and it is bloody heavy! Today they were hung from the overhead gantry by four stout chains. Seated on the low punishment bench I had my legs hitched to a spreader bar, head clamped in the stocks, wrists strapped to the eyelets, and the whole lot gradually lifted until I was truly stretched with my chin firmly in the grips of the padded neck hole.

It's clear that it was intended to be a challenging bondage position, and I definitely was not comfortable. I should have mentioned it to Mistress there and then, Maggie does not compromise on mercy when it counts, and a little adjustment would have made all the difference. But I was so eager to please Mistress that I ignored my nagging discomfort. It had also dawned on me that the stocks were now in a perfect position to act as a platform for Maggie to sit on, with her stockinged covered private parts only inches, or even millimetres from my pinioned mouth if she chose, and I selfishly did not want to miss out on an experience like that. So I said nothing.

Then out came the huge roll of playroom clingfilm, not on its own, Mistress was carrying it! A roll of that heavy weight industrial type that hisses as it leaves the roll. Maggie peeled off a three foot length but the wrap was not playing. It wafted up and instead of attaching round my head, attached itself firmly to Maggie's latex gloves. Unperturbed, off came the gloves, another piece hissed off the roll and this time 'take a deep breath slave’, a single layer was pulled tightly over my features and secured at the back. I was securely head wrapped. Mistress stood back, looked at her plasticised slave and smiled, I tried to reciprocate but my lips were now rendered immobile. Mistress moved her fingertips across the squeaky plastic before poking one of her sharp finger nails through my mouth covering. I was able to sit there as Maggie started to tease me once more, standing on the bench moving her hips tantalisingly close to my freed mouth, but the wall of the stocks maintained just that right, frustrating out of bounds distance to prevent me from accessing that tights covered area that a slave can only dream about.

Then it happened and oh what a useless, stupid slave I was. The legs cramped, hip joints started creaking and I had to beg release. Bother and damn, just when this was getting extremely interesting and another new experience about to be delivered. Maggie, attuned to her slaves wellbeing removed the stocks and told me to do what I had to do to make the cramp go away. I knew that I had spoiled what could have been a great scene, disappointed Mistress and boy had I disappointed myself!

Oh well, it was back to the tried and tested method for Maggie and out came the plastic bag. I must say, as I struggle for air, I can gaze at Mistress and know that she is enjoying herself. If I'm lucky I get the occasional brush of lips through the plastic, and I always try that little bit harder to last that little bit longer before begging for air.

Not to be denied more of her own fun, Maggie fitted me into the full rubber System mask with inflatable gag included. You may recall that last time, I managed 5 minutes before asking for release. This time, Maggie had cleverly modified the zip to give an extra centimetre or so to her mask, and it fitted like a glove. Snug, comfortable and those 5 minutes could easily be extended to 5 hours, it was that comfortable. However five hours was ruled out by Maggie attaching two nipple clamps with weights suspended over the gantry, I was once more forced to sit very erect and upright and Mistress appeared happy that her slave was going to experience some serious nippling.

Mistresses imagination really has no bounds as she tormented me, floating in and out of my limited vision, giving the weights a tug, or setting the suspension frame swaying as she stood on the low bench right in front of my goggled eyes taunting her slave. Maggie also occasionally used a feather on my now very sensitive nipples. Those innocuous little clamps were making their presence felt, I almost screamed as the feather gently caressed my over sensitive nips. I didn't though, as the gag reminded me to be silent and I had already created too much disappointment today.

Mistress then began adding breathing tubes to the front of my mask, the two corrugated tubes were carefully screwed into position, at their tip a small perforated dildo. That wasn't going to be used on me as I remained seated, but Maggie had somewhere suitable to put it and sensually lubed the little invader, then lubed herself and proceeded to frequently stop me breathing. The heady mix of pain, panting and pleasure went on for a while, as the little rubber pleasurer was gently nested right in front of her goggle eyed slave. Oh I do love that system mask and the results a little black rubber attachment can achieve on Mistress, in the right hands of course.

By this time, I was warming up inside the heavy suit, and once the system mask had been stripped away Mistress insisted that I would take her for a ride round her property, so things got even hotter. Maggie, thoughtful as ever, insisted I don a pair of Playroom knee pads, jumped on my back and 'encouraged' me to walk on. She kept on referring to me as Mr Ed and singing something along the lines of  'A horse is a horse of course, of course and no one can talk to a horse of course. . .'  Mistress does have an eclectic choice of songs in her repertoire! I know with my ample girth that Maggie's legs and thighs would stick out and when we arrived at doorways I was straining every sinew to make sure I didn't damage my very valuable rider. 

Four doorways, a walk round the upper floors of the estate and by the time we returned to the Playroom, I was gasping and grunting like Delaney's Donkey. Had I been a proper horse, a trip to the knackers yard would have been called for, as it was, Maggie reminded me what a useless slave I can be at times and ordered me to ‘dip’ so she could dismount gracefully.

I was then led through to the Clinic for a little 'help' with my recovery. I was fitted with another gas mask now and the ‘help' came in the form of an electro butt plug, my trusty black plug was eased out and the electro plug pushed in, all wired up to appropriately placed cock electrodes, the whole lot attached to Maggie's little black box and an appropriate rhythm programmed. There was a smile in Maggie's voice as she stood back to admire her handy work, then instructed me to carefully dismount from the couch and return to the Playroom.

This was another new experience. I have received e-stim and thoroughly enjoyed the stationary sensations but I have never experienced walking and moving around with a bipolar e-stim throbbing away between my legs. Mistress would carry the box and guide the wires, I just had to waddle through and make sure I didn't snag anything and constantly feed back to Mistress that 'Yes I am still receiiiiiiiving the signalllllllls!’

By now I was absolutely knackered. The nipple torture had affected me more than in the past and coupled with the physical exertions of being hung up, sat on, ridden round the establishment and now my cock and balls dancing to their own tune, I knew I was approaching my physical limits. Maggie knew this but also knew I was mentally still owned and ready for anything else she wished to do so long as it was a little less physical.

And altogether gentler it was and another change in the emotional status as she tucked me up in the big latex covered Playroom bed, limbs tethered with white rope to each corner. My electrics were still working as Maggie pulled her rubber gloves on, and her matching gasmask, and looking gorgeous in her rubber dress began slithering on top of her rubbered slave. An absolute treat for a rubber fetishist. If you look through my misted gas mask goggles you may be able to detect that inner peace that is achieved by a good physical and emotional workout. Had we had the time, I could have happily gone to sleep in the sure knowledge that I was safe in the hands of a friend and totally owned by the most exceptional Mistress.

When Mistress Maggie sent me the photos to accompany my blog she asked '. . . Truly though slave, I do hope that I didn’t totally wear you out on Friday. . .' . I was physically knackered, emotionally on a high and already ready to go back for more training, although I may need a couple more days for nipples to recover. Mistress I am yours to wear out as much as you want.

With my Little Stick of Blackpool Rock

Mistress Maggie had several tasks for her slave to perform during today's session.

1. Ensure Mistresses feet were well prepared for a visit to Blackpool
2. Reminder/instruction on my behaviour whilst out with Mistress
3. Chauffeur Mistress to Blackpool
4. Visit to her favourite shop, Saints and Sinners to browse and purchase new toy
5. Picnic on the North Pier
6. Buy some sticks of Blackpool rock 
7. Buy make up and lip gloss for an upcoming photo shoot.
8. On return to chambers, address any remedial actions as a result of any infractions

Straight to the Clinic to attend to Mistresses feet. Mistress climbed rather elegantly onto the gynae couch and for the first time in my limited experience, lay back and comfortably rested her booted feet in each stirrup. Maggie certainly knows which buttons to press to gain my attention as I removed each boot. How could I fail to notice that Mistress had nothing on under her short studded leather skirt. I tried not to smile as I manicured and pampered each foot in turn and made a conscious effort when chatting to Maggie to maintain eye contact and not to gaze at forbidden territory.

With the pedicure complete, Mistress smoothly dismounted and put on a pair of tights, and finally I was allowed to replace her boots, receiving good instruction on how to seat the heel correctly within the boot.

Returning to the playroom, I was told what behaviour Mistress would expect while out with her slave; carry bags, open doors, address her as Mistress except in inappropriate, public areas when Maggie would be acceptable, reserved speech etc. When Maggie was satisfied that I had received and understood her instructions we moved on to my physical preparations. Pants down, hands against the wall, a good dollop of lube had my butt-plug inserted like a rat up a drain-pipe and then a good cropping.

I had tallied up a fair amount of indiscretions by all accounts, and as the crop repeatedly struck my ass I again received a reminder; of the instructions for the trip; to appreciate that I’m a lucky slave and not to forget to say please and thank Mistress for her attentions; as punishment for poor worship of Mistress and punishment for carrying play items into the Playroom in a crinkly plastic supermarket bag. All in all, well deserving of the good cropping.

Note to other slaves: avoid this advice at your peril. Mistress does not do cheap plastic crinkly carrier bags!

Finally a tight leather cock strap was snapped round my erection. Hmm! I think I will stick out like a sore thumb accompanying Mistress. Nothing else then apart from pulling up my casual trousers. And off we went, picking up Maggie's black PVC coat on the way, as it was hit and miss whether Blackpool would see rain today.

The drive to Blackpool was uneventful although a little unnerving at times, as Maggie tapped her riding crop on the dashboard at each minor traffic infringement, both hands on the wheel, eyes not focused on the road etc, were all picked up by Mistress.

It took a while to park near Saints and Sinners but as we made our way to the shop, I was pleased that I had heeded Maggie's advice to wear something for rainy weather. Today ended up being bright sunshine but the wind in certain parts of Blackpool can cut through you like a knife. I was wearing my black latex tee-shirt under my 'ordinary' short-sleeved shirt and it is fantastic at preventing that biting wind from getting through to my body. Naturally I wear my slave collar whenever I am with my Mistress and the ladies in Saints and Sinners are very accommodating, nice and easy to talk to and nonchalant about Mistress arriving with a slave in tow; Mistress had warned me not to be too chatty. We ended up after much searching with the only black dildo in the whole shop that Maggie was happy with and a stainless pee through wand for me.

Parking up near North Pier we ventured across to have our picnic and possibly a coffee in the Pier end cafe. I naturally was carrying the camera and sandwich box and whetted my lips as the lid was lifted, the contents looked most inviting. They were - for Maggie at least.

I had my own item to eat as Maggie produced a sealed plastic bag from her lunchbox and told me the contents were my picnic. A very moist, champagne soaked pair of Maggie's pants. Quite a mouthful and certainly effective as a gag. I didn't mind, I love essence of Mistress. Maggie tormented me further by sensually eating her rather edible looking sandwiches. The few holiday makers nearby were oblivious that I was eating a pair of Mistresses used panties, but they may have chanced to see my slave collar and may have smiled as I got a slap whenever I stopped chewing. Did they think I had perhaps said or done something to upset my beautiful companion? I didn't care.

We then had a very pleasant coffee, which might have been uneventful except I am sure I saw the waitress staring at my collar as I bought and served coffee for Mistress. Maggie and I sat and chatted. Unfortunately for me, the coffee drowned the taste of Mistress and I was very conscious that my erection flared up every time I thought of Maggie in just her tights covering her private parts.

Three little sticks of Blackpool rock were bought as we walked to a well known chemist, Maggie occasionally feeling my shirt and the latex underneath as I extolled its virtue as a windbreak. In the space between the chemists floors as I closely followed Mistress on the up escalator, Maggie quietly and almost imperceptibly stuck her leather clad buttock in my face and whispered 'kiss it slave’. I would have loved to linger longer but knew not to embarrass my Mistress.

Having spent a little longer than Mistress had expected choosing the make up, we were late returning and the journey back to the Playroom had to be made in haste. I had had a superb outing with my Mistress and I don't think I let her down.

I found out who one of those little sticks of Blackpool rock was for as I was chained over the Playroom horse, my butt-plug, that I had worn for the whole trip, removed and the rock inserted where no rock should go. Sticky rock does hold an element of resistance as it travels back and forth up your asshole, and only when Maggie had finished fucking me with the candy was I presented with the opportunity to have a lick on it, as Maggie removed the rock and stuck it straight in my mouth before plastic bagging me.

I was told that lesser mortals required less air as she tightened her grip of the plastic around my neck.

My hands were shackled beneath the bench, I was chained to the bench so there was absolutely nothing to do apart from suffocate and plead with Mistress that I was probably better off with the odd breath, but I had to give Mistress a promise before being granted release - to sterilise and insert my new piss plug, make sure I cum with it in when I got home, and deliver photo evidence to Mistress before the chime of midnight. (and I did as I was told).

My final activity? Mistress thought I had behaved reasonably well and treated her chauffeur to a strap-on arse fuck. Not with the newer, bigger dildo purchased today, that would require a deep clean by Maggie before being set loose on her slaves, but the traditional black one I had taken before and handle quite well now. It is a strange sensation to be fucked whilst the sickly sweet  remnants of my Blackpool rock was still around my back passage. I wonder if it had Blackpool through the centre?

One thing is certain, sweet Blackpool rock does get very sticky when it has been up your arse and my thighs were sticking together on the journey home. Another thing certain is that my hard work in training does gives Maggie the confidence to take her slave out occasionally without me embarrassing her. That privilege is not granted easily and requires a lot of hard graft from the slave and even then an outing is not something to expect. It’s simple really, Maggie is in charge and what she says goes.

I hope I didn't let my Mistress down.

Complete Genital Transformation

There were few session preliminaries today, as Mistress Maggie explained that she would be redesigning my genitalia, there was lots to do and she needed to get started.

I helped Maggie remove her new shiny black mac, putting it aside to reveal a stunning one piece clear plastic suit. I was putty in her hands, she knew I would be, and I was ready for anything. Mistress told me to hurry along and get into my latex t-shirt and gloves and to report at her feet for boot worship. Black shiny lace ups today, all the way to her knee. Maggie added a latex slave hood to my costume, I poked my tongue through the mouth hole and took as long as I could worshipping those boots, but didn't dare stray onto her plastic skin. When Maggie was happy with my attentions I was given a special red rubber suit to wear, a loose fitting suit made of the thinnest latex. A little talc and some very careful dressing had me snugly fitted inside it, finished off with several wraps of rubber bandage round my middle. ‘Can't use the tight leather corset as you will need to expand’. Maggie had hinted at an enema in my call up mail and that remark kind of confirmed it and I was ushered into the Clinic.

The very first thing Maggie did when we entered the Clinic was to enthusiastically show me her design for giving my genitals a complete transformation. She was obviously pleased with the simple yet elegant design, showing what used to be my cock and balls neatly sutured into one large homogeneous blob. Rather worryingly, she did say that I should take a moment to say goodbye to my cock. The interesting additions were in the detail. Wires leading from where the end of my cock once was and some 'seasonal vegetation' as adornment. I was excited, a little apprehensive, a little expectant but fully committed to whatever Mistress wished to do.

The final bit of the briefing brought home the magnitude of the operation that I had willingly consented to. I was to receive the enema because once I saw the results of Mistresses needlework I would want to crap myself and the enema might 'help'. A big smile from Maggie and 'You will receive at least two litres slave'. I had briefly easily held that before but at least two? Two and a half, three litres? Maggie would decide.

I was comfortable on the gynaecology couch when Maggie returned with one jug full of warm water, mixed in her magic powders to make it soapy and poured the contents into the enema bag. I was a little less comfortable when she returned with the second jug full and repeated the procedure.

Hmm . . . Quite a lot then! Get comfortable on my side, a little grease and tube up my backside and I was ready for Mistress to open the tap, and that was that. No discomfort, in fact it was quite pleasant as Maggie gently massaged my lower stomach to aid the flow, occasionally checking that her slave was still alright to continue.

Oh most definitely yes. I tried to sound nonchalant but Maggie knows her slave well now and knew I was enjoying the situation. Once I had received all the fluid Maggie plugged it in and the volatile contents of my bowels were trapped to work their magic, sealed by the inflatable plug that ensured my bum was well and truly bunged up. Nothing to worry about so far. In the past I've kept enemas in for 10 minutes or so with no problems at all so what could go wrong today? 'That will stay in until I'm finished'.
Maggie helped me onto my back with legs in the chairs stirrups, she removed my plain latex hood and replaced it with another of her own design. A comfortable and nice fitting zipped, black latex little number, with an array of tubes that I had to bite down on and a generous honeycomb mesh across the eyes; generous as I could, with a little adjustment, see Maggie as she moved around the Clinic. I did see and hear Mistress stick two electrodes onto my cock, secured them with many turns of a white bandage and test out the electrics. Y. . E. . S - electrics working!

Then she was off to the bathroom to wash her hands and don her operation gloves. I also saw through the honeycomb, Mistress choosing her sewing instruments and carefully placing the PVC operating sheet over my cock and balls. 'Are you ready slave to receive your complete genital transformation?’. I had promised I would do anything for my Mistress and confirmed I was ready and willing for whatever she wished to do.

That first knotted stitch is a pain, but after that Maggie settled into her routine and slowly and steadily completed the first set of sutures. 'Slave, control your cock.' I couldn't help it, despite having my genitals sewn up, I was getting hard. I really tried to concentrate, but every time the needle went in it brought me back to the fact that my Mistress was stitching up my delicate bits and I was enjoying it! A brief interlude as the second suture was threaded and on went the sewing. I could see the concentration on Maggie's face through my hood, looking quite intense and really attractive as she persisted sewing up my bits and pieces.

Every now and then my stomach would let out a low rumble to announce it was still full, and occasionally Maggie came across a really resistant piece of scrotum, strangely always on my left side, piercing these reluctant areas was the only time the stitching really took my breath away.

It took a while for the dozen or so stitches to be completed and every so often Maggie would appear next to my head and exhale a full lungful of her precious breath down my breathing tube. I loved that little touch; a little respite for Maggie from her concentration on the sewing and that sweet taste of Mistress for me to savour.

And finally a wipe with a sterile pad concluded the stitching, accompanied by that wonderful laugh that Maggie has. Relief at another successful operation or the amusing sight she had just created? A bit of both probably. Maggie stood back to admire her craft work.

What a strange feeling. After all the time trying to keep my cock flaccid Maggie turned on the electrics and added a final touch of seasonal vegetation. A sprig of new growth, fresh, green nettles. About a year ago I had commented how I tried to avoid fresh shoots as they are the most potent. No chance this time as she stroked what remained of my ball sac with the sweet young thing and then fixed the twig neatly in place between the sutures.

I wanted an erection; my body said 'get your cock up' but the stitching said otherwise. My cock and balls were so firmly stitched up I could feel a quick throb and then my cock subsided. No pain at all. Maggie had done an expert job with the sutures, but boy was I frustrated. Maggie has finally completely tamed and controlled her slaves cock. I had never felt so owned or so perfectly content in my life.

Not everything in the garden was rosy. All this time, the soapy enema had been gurgling away. It was fine when I was lying on the couch but when Maggie said it was time for the toilet, I carefully sat up and the weight of two plus litres moved downwards and I did then need the loo. I still couldn’t see the full extent of my CGT, so it wasn't the visual impact that made me want to crap myself. Maggie manoeuvred me over the toilet pan and removed the plug, and . . . for the second time in two sessions I really caused my Mistress concern. Last time I choked as I was drinking, this time I think Mistress would have choked if she hadn't moved. What a stink! I felt more anxiety that I had subjected Mistress to such farmyardy smells. I definitely think Mistress would have benefited from wearing one of her gas masks; I know I would, as a horrible lungful of pong was creeping its way up my breathing tubes. I really must change my diet!

Needless to say, I was told to clean up any mess before Maggie would even consider removing the stitches. An interesting thing about having your cock and balls 'removed’. It doesn't stop you from peeing, although you do need to be seated as aiming is somewhat difficult - and as for writing your name in the snow, forget it.

After I’d thoroughly cleaned the bathroom, Mistress relented and said she would remove the stitches. Each one was carefully snipped, removed and consigned to the bin. A thorough clean with the antiseptic wipes, a final suture check and I was pronounced fit for release. The medical suit was removed in the playroom and I must admit to a feeling of satisfaction as I had once again brought a smile to Maggie's face.

Any unpleasant after effects? None at all. I do have a huge smile writing this blog though.

Painful? A little, but only occasionally and certainly bearable.

Exciting? Oh yes. Mistress once again proved she has total control over her slave.

Would I repeat it? Of course but only if Maggie wants more practise or has the urge for a stitch-up.

Did I enjoy it? Of course. It made Maggie happy and it was another new experience under my belt!