A Normal Day for a Latex Slave

Another 'normal' day attending the Mistress Maggie slave training school here in the North West.

Normal in the sense that Mistress heard me ring her bell and answered the door to the Chambers, looking stunningly attractive as usual; today wearing a black and white nurses outfit. That tight sexy corset may be disapproved of in Holby City, but it certainly gained my attention and approval.

Normal in the sense that despite 106 training sessions with my Mistress, I still get incredibly excited as I follow closely behind those latex clad buttocks as we make our way upstairs to the Playroom.

Normal as I am instructed to change from my outdoor clothes into the latex gloves and socks that Mistress likes.

Normal as I am proudly wearing my leather slave collar, and finally, normal because as usual I have no idea where Mistress wants to take her slave today. That normal familiar thrill of having promised to - Willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question, sets my heart racing. And knowing I will do everything I can to keep that promise.

Bending low before my Mistress I showed my normal devotions with long slow worship of the tall platform shoes she was wearing. Standing splendid, Maggie played her cat o' nine tails across my bare back and side, across my buttocks and occasionally down the cleft between my cheeks; tantalisingly tickling my balls through my open legs with the gentlest of flicks. Nothing painful, but sufficiently irregular to maintain my utmost attention to the cleaning job in hand, or I should say mouth, as I was eagerly licking those shoes in an attempt to further perfect my cleaning technique.

In response to her enquiry, I delved in my 'perv bag’ to retrieve a pair of panties that Mistress had asked me to return to her; the very same pair of soiled panties that Mistress had presented to me on my 100th session way back in April. I had to enjoy the scent and flavours at home, placing them back into their zip seal bag each time I’d worshipped them, then return the beautiful item when Mistress demanded. As normal, her panties must be freshly laundered, and this time preferably with a fresh laundry aroma. Previously I had not laundered them properly and I wouldn’t make that mistake twice; I had cleaned them and double cleaned them so they smelled 'as new’. I was relieved when Maggie inspected them, this time appearing happy with my laundering and not needing to pick up her cane.

As normal, with very little ceremony and lots of lube, Mistress took the opportunity to install my butt plug in its rightful place and helped me into my black latex catsuit. I followed her into the Clinic where I was to become her rubber patient. I received Mistresses ‘bandage hood’, a hood I remember Mistress making specially for silencing her White Room patients; a latex hood with long neck, tied in place with the attached long, white latex bandages that create a very effective seal across the small mouth hole. As normal, Mistress then made sure her slave was comfortable with the judicial placing of the Clinic pillow.

Now, I would normally expect Mistress to securely strap me to the gynae couch, but on this occasion she was even more mischievous than normal. Knowing how much I like to stroke her latex clad buttocks whenever they are in range, she whispered that she would very much like it if I could perform that little luxurious task and my right hand would be left unrestrained and free to caress her glorious globes whenever they swayed my way.

What an absolute tease Mistress can be. There I was with a big smile under the bandage, my right arm free of all fetters and ready to stroke the bum of my rubberised catheter nurse.

As you might guess, ALL the while Maggie was inserting the catheter, her bum and my arm were swinging on opposite sides of the operating table. I might as well have had my right arm lopped off for all the good it was doing caressing those latex buttocks. Hmm! maybe it's best not to suggest that, it being my wanking arm and knowing how well equipped and devious she is!

However, despite its stout securing strap, I did get my left hand into a position to manage an occasional stroke, and my efforts kept me sufficiently sidetracked, to prevent me noticing that the catheter had been clinically and cleanly installed. Maggie really is good at that operation.

Normally, Mistress would immediately attach the drainage bag and my bladder would begin releasing its contents, giving a little relief from that growing urge to pee. Nope, the outlet was firmly bunged with a catheter plug, me and my bladder were to be kept waiting for the growing necessity to relieve myself. Mistress continued with her operations, the butt plug needed to come out to be quickly replaced by the electrified Kegel balls, and once Maggie was satisfied that I was receiving my stimulation in the form of a good belt of northern electricity, we returned to the Playroom for my insertion into the vacuum bag. Politicians make much about the Northern Power House, let me tell them Mistress has been operating it successfully for years!

It was obvious right from the start of the session that the vacbed would be used, as it was already assembled on the floor when I arrived and even this stupid slave can discern an object so black and so large. But it was still a real thrill to hear Maggie giving me an explanation of what was to come.

A quick check that I understood both her intentions and her safety rules, a simple mask providing cover for my mouth and nose and I was ready. A big dollop of lube was spread along the opening to assist with sealing the vacuum, then I was instructed to carefully climb inside my rubber womb.

Mistress made sure the small breather tube attached to the mask was secure in the vacbed’s breathing hole, my mouth remained unobstructed and I was still able to communicate with Mistress. The electric levels were turned up to set my bum balls throbbing, and with the catch bag attached my inflated bladder finally got relief from the nagging urge to urinate. Not much but oh what a relief. As normal, Mistress forever considerate for her slave's well-being, placed a comfortable cushion under the nape of my neck. The whirr of the vacuum pump completed incarceration. It is an incredible feeling to feel the gradual removal of the air and then it comes all of a rush as the last vestiges are sucked out and you become immobile.

Mistress then told me that she was to advance my breath training whilst in the vacbed, I would have to rely on a re-breather bag as a lifeline for a while, but I managed on the three litre bag quite nicely. Long slow breaths now and I was really starting to enjoy being immobile, totally enclosed in tight rubber and I know Mistress likes the rhythmic breathing sound as it indicates that I am alive and untroubled. With my latest training, I think I could have maintained that steady rhythm for hours. I wonder if you can actually sleep in that situation? The downside is that my visibility was restricted to a very dull dark grey haze of the rest of the world, and worse that I could only see shadows of my Mistress as she floated around, occasionally checking that her slave was OK and doing Mistress things to her encapsulated plaything.

My other senses compensated and I knew there was going to be a change to my breathing, as Maggie announced that she would enjoy replacing the re-breather bag with her personal dildo toy, and I could share her enjoyment via a hosepipe attached to my incarcerated face. I could almost taste Mistress as she pleasured herself.

I could also see the little points of light, created by Mistress when she let her nectar flow around my mouth and eyes, giving strange sparkles of twinkling light, as her fluids refracted the Playroom light through the otherwise dull grey of the vacuum bag. For a fleeting moment I thought of the night sky and millions of twinkling stars. Funny where your mind drifts when you are in heaven.

And that was that. I couldn't do anything inside the bag, but I gain huge enjoyment knowing that I have played even a small passive part in my Mistress enjoying her slave.

Was this a 'normal session'? Yes, but only to the extent that normality means that nothing is taken for granted; Normal that Mistress Maggie always surprises me with the variety of her training, and normal that I leave another session knowing I am even more under the control of a superb Mistress.

Another normal day in Mistress Maggie's Training School.

Plain Stupidity

Oh what depths of stupidity can a simple slave sink to? It was only two months ago when I reported in this blog that I had received 20 hard strokes of the cane from Mistress Maggie for carelessness in web addressing. I promised at the time to learn ‘Less haste more attention’, yet here I am having to report exactly the same issues again. A week ago, I received the following from Maggie. ’I’m a bit pissed off, your web addressing is so clumsy slave.’ That was an understatement and in Harry Potter terms, I received a Howler!

Maggie knows that the simple mention of nipple clamps will set her slave wincing. To compound anxiety at being such a stupid slave, at the start of this week, Mistress allowed me a choice:

'  I am not adverse to a little bartering and propose a couple of options. How do we make you learn ‘less haste more attention?' -

a. nipple torture
b. reduced nipple torture plus 40 cane strokes

Make a choice slave, a or b . . .  '

A - I replied by email! The feeling of those 20 intense cane strokes I had taken came flooding back to me, never mind 40. I thought that ‘A’ may be the easier option to manage. Oh how wrong could I be?

I was greeted by Mistress at the door to the Chambers, as always she was a complete picture of power, grace and beauty. Dressed in a stunning black, underwired latex leotard she ushered me in, her legs were adorned with shiny black patent boots complemented by transparent seamed latex stockings, she wore long transparent gloves that gestured me to follow her undulating bottom to the Playroom. Mistress Maggie had me stand before her and chided me for my poor performance, saying ‘your nipples will be badly punished for this’, before explaining, albeit somewhat briefly, the running order for the session. In a change to normal routine, Mistress chose to perform the punishment at the end of our session, and why that decision was the best choice will unfold in the blog.

Mistress said she would like me in full black rubber and to lay my catsuit on the bed. I was then sent to the bathroom to undress and put on my latex stockings and gloves, returning in no time at all to find Mistress reclining on the padded bench awaiting some good boot licking from her slave. So I busied my tongue and set about shining her already shiny knee boots, before Mistress stood up and indicated that I should occupy the padded bench instead. I knelt there, bum raised for my butt plug to be slid home very easily.

Mistress must have liked her slave in this position, as going off at a tangent she allowed herself one of those rare off-script moments; selecting one of her many leather whips and landing fast rotating strokes on my proffered backside with it. The laughing tone in her voice suggested she was much amused. ‘I just couldn’t resist, your ass looked like it needed beating’. Maggie was happy, I was happy and the world was. . . quite a mess actually with Brexit, Nice etc, but at that point I didn't care, I was in my own little world with my owner.

Mistress helped me into my rubber catsuit and I was ready for my next adventure. We adjourned to the Clinic, and there I was tied to a chair; a small length of rope was all that was required to secure my wrists. Maggie produced a roll of standard cling film, suffice is to say that my vision of Mistress was soon transformed from crystal clear to shiny and hazy, the layers were being stretched tight round my head and smoothed into position. I was grateful to feel her finger being forced through the plastic into my mouth, allowing me a necessary breath.

Carefully onto the couch, I was strapped down with legs suspended from the ‘goalpost’ frame and a rigid posture collar strapped round my neck to ensure I was only looking forward. I love watching Maggie move around and this, together with the cling-film, curtailed that visual enjoyment, but Mistress was happy and I could still hear what was going on.

Out came the butt plug and after a couple of long drags from the aroma dispenser to help me relax Mistress vanished, returning a couple of moments later with items that she started feeding into my vacant orifice. ‘Piss ice cubes’, she proudly announced and fed them one by one into my eager cave, pushing them deep inside with a medical instrument. It was a strange feeling or rather a lack of a strange feeling. I could tell the four ice cubes were up there but there was very little discomfort normally associated with the application of ice to the human body.

As I lay there relishing the thought that Mistress had allowed some of her juices to actually be inside me, I received more excellent news in the form of that soft tinkling sound, as Mistress stood beside my left ear and emptied the contents of her bladder into a jug. The pee was quickly decanted into the large enema bag and I was informed that some very warm fluids would be joining the four piss cubes.

More relaxation from the aromas and the Bardex double balloon enema tube was in place. No discomfort whatsoever, in fact I really love how Mistress handles insertions into my bum; sufficient lubrication, gentle insertion, judicious application of relaxing aromas, she has trained me well. Not satisfied that I was receiving my fill, (big smile from me as I realised my bum capacity exceeded that of Mistresses considerable bladder), so a quick trip to the bathroom for a jug full of warm water to supplement her juices in the enema bag and. . . . just lay there and enjoy the liquid infusion. It is a very pleasant sensation to receive the warm water and pee mixture, I smiled once more because I knew I had quite a lot of my Mistress actually inside me this time. Melting piss cubes coming into contact with the warm piss and colon walls had now added to the considerable amount of liquid gurgling around inside my distended stomach.

Once emptied, the enema tube was securely clamped and plugged, and I was full of Mistresses very special golden juice, very comfortable and mentally such a turn on. I might well have had an accompanying erection, but Mistress was now fitting some very heavy equipment around cock and balls that turned out to be a metal chastity cage. More of that later.

Then things started to take a turn for the worse. Up until now there had been no attention to nipples, despite their zips being wide open and free range for Maggie. I think my nipples had retracted as far as they could in an attempt to escape their imminent punishment, but to no avail. The suction cups came out and Maggie started winding them up to create a vacuum around my freshly lubricated buds. Every few minutes, Mistress applied a few more turns of the screws and kept pulling the cups to make sure they were firmly attached and doing their job of stretching my nipples. I would have willingly told her if only she’d asked and if I didn't have a breathing tube stuck in my mouth. I could have also told her that the nipples didn't need the extra weight suspended from the ’goalpost’ frame, and that is perhaps the reason why I needed the breathing tube, to keep me quiet!

OK quick resume: bowels full of Mistresses piss, head covered in cling film, cock locked up, strapped to a gynae couch, nipples being distended and sucked out of hibernation - next came the bombshell. ‘Right. Back to the Playroom to start your nipple punishment now slave’.

Start the punishment! My nipples were already standing out like the new door chime I had rung much earlier. As Mistress was making final preparations for the move, I could vaguely see her fondling the roll of cling film and off came another length and straight across my face and importantly my aghast mouth hole. Unconcerned that I was now struggling for breaths, Mistress continued with her removal preparations. It was then I discovered why Mistress had bought standard cling film to incarcerate her slaves' head. With a single film over my mouth I sucked really hard to let Mistress know I was about to expire, this resulted in a loud pop like a balloon bursting and I had sucked an air hole for myself. Maggie just carried on untying my straps and cutting off the head shroud as if nothing had happened. I am the property of an amazing woman and true expert in getting the best out of her slaves.

Waddling back to the Playroom with the two Bardex pumps swinging between my legs the punishment part of my session was about to start. I was given some latex head gear instead: the open latex hood and the special face muzzle. Lying flat on the low punishment bench my hands were 'mitted' and strapped out of the way and my head placed inside the Stocks that were in turn hung from the overhead ring. If punishing my nipples hadn't been the order of the day, I was in the perfect position to have my Mistress sink her latex covered rump over a very eager slaves mouth. As it was, with my now extended and available nipples, Maggie set about torturing them. I use the word torture because that is exactly what she did. I knew I fully deserved whatever punishment Maggie thought was necessary and was resolved to accept it in the best way I could.

With light pinches it started off OK, but as Maggie sat on my piss extended abdomen she started work on both nipples with her sharp nails. Unlike a clamp which is a short sharp pain followed by a growing ache, Maggie's nails were relentless. Left scratch right scratch, left, right, left, left, right, right, gripping my nipples with her nails and squeezing and pulling them hard in all directions. All the time I was getting closer to that edge. I could tell I had arrived at the pain threshold because my breathing starts to go really ragged with the pain, I had to really beg ‘Mistress. No more. PLEASE no more. . . ‘. I am fortunate Mistress knows when I am 'there’, she released me and allowed a few minutes of calmness before moving me to the Throne, where a chain was used round my chest and my hands securely cuffed, my Bardex balloons dangling nicely through the central hole in the Throne. I used the brief respite to regulate my breathing and retreat as far as I could from that pain edge.

Maggie took a dog brush and dragged the horrible nylon bristles back and forth across my chest. Occasionally she wiped away a few spots of blood. My ordeal wasn't over, nor should it have been. I had really disappointed my Mistress and it was up to her to decide the punishment. The box of nipple clamps was put on the table. ‘Oh look, do you remember these nice custardy yellow ones for cowards? You've worn these before’. Yes and they had bloody well hurt, that was before my nipples were battered and ripped to shreds and very sore, yet strangely after a few moments recovery Mistress applied the yellow perils and I was able to absorb the pain; I deserved it and would cope with the discomfort. It didn't stop me from really pleading with Mistress as the pain grew intense, I had been granted permission to shout and cry, this punishment was justified and I had no complaints.

After two more styles of nipple clamps, I was once again approaching that edge. This time Mistress determined that enough pain had been inflicted and I was well and truly punished for my misdemeanours, perhaps now I will remember ‘Less haste more attention’. I think that’s why my owner decided to undertake punishment at the end of the session. If I was that close to my pain threshold after an early punishment I would have been of little use in the Clinic, more of a wimp and Mistress would miss out on some of her hard earned enjoyment.

Brilliant strategist is Mistress Maggie.

Two things worthy of mention occurred after the formal end of my punishment, beginning with some sumptuous recovery time on the Playroom latex bed. Maggie innocently said I would have to go home wearing the chastity device fitted in the Clinic, but when she went under cover to check it, it had disappeared; the device not her cock and balls I hasten to add. I must have a cock and balls tutored by Houdini, either that or I had relaxed and recovered so much that it had just dropped off. Then later as we were having a 'wind down' coffee, Mistress sat herself down on the sofa, gave me a cloth and Mr Sheen and I was re-acquainted with her patent boots and told to polish them. I found that action so natural and just enjoyed the act of continuing to serve my owner.

Did I have another good session? Yes another excellent one. I deserved the punishment and will really try harder to consistently please my Mistress.

Are your nipples still sore? Bloody well yes. The following morning I could barely touch the buds; not helped by Mistress stamping each nipple with the ‘I’ve been punished by Mistress Maggie’ stamp. I do love these extra bits of attention that I am granted.

Is Mistress really sadistic? Yes but only when you deserve it, or when she feels like it! 

Window of Opportunity

It is not often that I get the unexpected privilege of being able to receive training with Mistress Maggie twice within four days. But that particular window was well and truly opened, and I jumped. In our last session we had been shopping to Cathouse Clothing in Yorkshire and normally I would be a little depressed at the end of the session, waiting for my next opportunity to serve. I certainly would have been on this occasion as my next scheduled training was not for another four weeks. However, at the last moment, I was able to book an evening session the following Tuesday. Yet again Mistress was able to bring another new experience to her slave and I arrived at 20:00 for my first ever evening session.

Maggie had warned me when I requested the extra training that I would be the ideal play thing for further testing of her newly acquired humbler, but first I was to deep clean her black shiny over the knee boots. And by deep clean, she meant deep clean. Mistress was quite clear that a lot of my saliva would be required before she considered them washed. I generated as much as I could, moving my tongue with long, slow, very wet licks in my attempt to saturate every part of both boots. Mistress inspected them with a single finger, if she touched her boots with her finger and it came away dry, then her boots were not wet enough and I had to repeat the cleaning process again.

That amount of saliva took a lot of generating and kind as always, Mistress assisted with three full mouthfuls of her own spit deposited fairly and squarely in my eager open mouth, the first mouthful accompanied by a stern warning from Maggie. ‘Don't swallow fool, it’s meant to help with the cleaning’. And so I continued long and wet, up and down, all the while managing sly glances at Mistress in her superb rubber riding gear. Another final inspection of her boots and Mistress appeared satisfied with my efforts, I was then instructed to fetch a cloth from her bottom drawer and put it to use, giving the newly washed boots a good buffing and polish.

Meanwhile my personal butt plug was sitting looking harmless on the corner of the wooden cabinet, and I suspected that it would not be too long before it was disappearing up my arse. However, Mistress reminded me that in our last encounter when we had been shopping in Yorkshire my butt plug had been neglected; I’d had electric anal beads stuffed up my arse for the shopping trip instead, then when we returned Maggie had so effectively filled my arse with her Manhandler dildo. Anyway, today I ended up on my knees, face up tight to my own butt plug and offering my humblest apologies to the plug for 'deserting it in favour of bigger toys’. Not even a thank you from the plug as Mistress finally took it and slid it into its usual backdoor location, but I am just a simple slave, who should know my place and learn not to take my butt plug for granted.

Mistress is always thinking of her slaves well-being, and when I was instructed to put the knee pads on it did mean I would be on my knees for a considerable time!

OK, down to the humbler testing. Head down arse up in the centre of the rug and zip lowered on my latex shorts, balls gathered up with an old nylon stocking and the humbler locked in place relatively easily. I now had a very robust steel humbler securely locked in place round the top of my balls. The next part, fitting the ball stretcher did not go well and I fully understood why Mistress needed more testing. It was one of those occasions where Mistress declares ‘I could do with an extra arm!’. As much as she grasped and stretched my balls the stretcher refused to line up properly and snap into position. After a bit of cursing and silent thinking time Maggie realised that it would be better to construct the humbler in a different order. I got the uneasy but delightful feeling that Mistress hadn't given up with her attempt at attaching my balls to the stretcher mechanism and next time. . .

In contrast to the stretcher, the ball crusher went on too easily and Maggie was soon enjoying applying that part of the apparatus with more than a little release of her frustration at the ball stretcher, as she tightened the crusher. Yes the damn thing has spikes on one side and a flat face on the other and yes you can guess which way the crusher was applied; the spiky side ended up against my balls and yes the spikes are sharp enough to hurt and leave visible marks on my poor, crushed balls and yes I enjoyed being guinea pig again for my Mistress.

Testing wasn't complete however, Mistress wanted to test how her slave coped with the grip and the weight of the humbler and whether it was painful to wear whilst moving. It was secured exactly where Maggie wanted it with a length of rope, and I was taken on a lead and instructed to walk at heel; a steady walk around all the upstairs carpeted areas, round the floor, out the landing, up the hall, round and about and back to the Playroom. All the while my balls in tight check and rattling against my buttocks as I crawled forward on hands and knees. In my humble opinion it is a real mean controlling machine, and that’s before having the stretcher part locked on my bollocks! It would be impossible for me to contort myself into a position to remove it myself, even if Mistress was gracious enough to hand me the keys.

Back in the Playroom, Maggie sat on her throne and employed me with even more humbler testing tasks. 'Crawl towards the cage and then crawl backwards slave, more times, I need to check how tough my new humbler is’. This also gave her the chance to gauge how effective the humbler was at close quarters. It worked, it stayed on and my balls were cruelly and permanently pushed out behind me.

The temptation was obviously too much for my Mistress as she was soon picking up her riding crop, telling me how much she had been looking forward to using it. She gave my balls several very sharp blows that echoed round the Chambers, enough to really make me wince. But what could I do, as in between the ball beating strokes Mistress allowed me to bury my latex covered face inbetween her latex buttocks or her latex thighs, along with the most gentlest of strokes to those tormented balls and whispered, ‘You did well with the testing. You will be rewarded later’.

When later came I was spread-eagled in bondage on the latex bed. With my wrists and ankles strapped firmly out of the way Mistress set about me with the vibrator and her soft rubber gloved hands. To add little more spice to my life, Maggie manacled the base of my shaft with a stout cock strap and chained it to the top of the bed post; strong chain and very tight, with the chain passing right in front of my eyes on its way to the ringbolt in the centre of the bed head. I remembered her recent article on her website, 'Can you cum’, and I was determined that I wasn't going to embarrass myself yet again. I maintained a stiff upper lip as I asked Maggie whether she wanted me to cum or not to cum - that was the question. The answer, ‘You have no choice slave’. As the Hitachi wand vibrations played on my balls they had no option but empty themselves. Mistress is clearly in charge of everything when you are worshipping her, and so it should be.

The final act. Mistress Maggie tweaked a nipple quite hard and purred. ‘These need attending to next time’.

Over the Hills and Far Away

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cock and Nettle Rissoles - Yumeee!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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