(I) Like Watching Paint Dry

I had almost completed the cleaning and worshipping duties of Mistress Maggie's black court shoes, the slender ones where, with a surreptitious movement of the tongue I can just tickle her instep, when she announced that we must move on due to a tight timetable today. This in itself was unusual because Mistress is normally incredibly generous with her session time, in fact if British Rail ran to similar relaxed timetables, it would be in a right pickle. But I always obey my owner, so putting my tongue away I quickly knelt to attention at her feet, bare naked apart from my red socks and gloves.

I could only imagine what Maggie had in store for me, as usual she had kept me in a puzzled state of suspense. Other than instructing me to bring my red latex kit bag to session and warning me that it may be necessary to open a window today, I’d been given no real clues in her calling mail. Maggie asked me to lean forward so she could hood me, and once again on went the easy to wear, black, full rubber hood that I had spent so much happy time in during the previous session. The contents of my red kit bag were laid out and lightly talced for ease of dressing, my bum was stuffed with a big red butt plug and Maggie zipped me into my tight fitting red catsuit. Why red? All will become clear.

We relocated into the White room where Maggie strapped me to the couch; secure but not tight. For a moment I thought my cock and balls would be subjected to some of Mistress’ devious punishments, because she was unzipping my genital area making sure I was fully exposed, but to my surprise she announced I would be receiving a shave. Before I knew it Maggie had assembled her stainless steel operators tray at the foot of the couch, donned a plastic apron and was wielding her razor.

Strange I thought, as I had already paid a lot of attention to my depilation, because I have learned that missing a few stray pubes can result in one helluva justified chastisement. It is a most sensual experience, lying there with your owner expertly lathering up your cock and balls with soap and water, then gently working her disposable razor round both shaft and balls.

I was pleased that Mistress hadn’t detected any omissions in my shaving, but she did reaffirm that I needed to be absolutely hair free, and finishing with the razor she continued to rub me dry with a towel and gave my cock and balls a liberal dosing with talcum powder. The area was then deemed as prepared, apart from a little light lotion which Maggie carefully smoothed over the dried, shaved, talc'd area.

Now it all started to fit; why the red suit, why the thorough shave, dry and oil, and even why in the calling mail Mistress indicated she may need to open the window. That bit had me really mystified, until Maggie brought out a plastic bottle and started mixing liquid latex; red liquid latex, although sitting there in the bottle it did definitely look pink!

Liquid latex technology appears to have improved since I tried latexing the inside of a pair of old jeans many, many years ago and long before I was privileged to meet my Mistress. At that time it did smell quite pungent but now, as Maggie mixed the chemicals we could not detect any notably bad odours so the window in the Clinic remained shut. Now it was my turn to wear a plastic apron, but unlike Maggie’s mine had a hole in the middle for my shaved area to poke through, rather appropriate really, as my cock looked like a poker after all the attention it had received.

Maggie decided to paint the underside of my balls first and in order to get a good hands-free view a little cock support was needed. A clamp and a length of rope held my cock to my collar, which did a fine job of keeping everything in place while she painted on the latex and used her hair-dryer to help it set, you get an odd feeling as the liquid latex begins shrinking and adhering to your skin. Maggie mentioned she had tried the liquid latex on her arm, hence why the thorough shave. ‘You will appreciate the shave I’ve done for you when we come to rip the latex off you later’.

This was why the tight timetable. Not to finish earlier, but to apply and dry many thin layers of the latex on and around my cock and balls. After each application came a blow with the Playroom hair dryer until the sticky substance had dried, changing from the pink to a final red colour. As a safety precaution Maggie fitted a condom over the tip of my cock to avoid any bad reactions. The painting continued; a thin coat followed by a good warm blow, working all the time around and over the condom until Maggie was satisfied with her artistry and her latex paint was used up. She performed a touch test on her finely painted masterpiece and said that it required a good blowing to dry it completely. Yes, Mistress then finished me off, well almost literally, with a prolonged blow job. . . from the hair dryer!

After that the liquid latex was allowed some natural drying time. Ahh - I was just happy laying there watching my Mistress float about in her latex, nicely snug and secure, latex covered and waiting for the paint to dry. I liked the quiet. However, Mistress wasn't too happy about waiting with nothing to entertain her and had devised a few interesting distractions for her slave. For instance, I could use the time to improve my breath control and out came the red rebreather helmet that I have easily worn on a few occasions, in fact Maggie commented that due to the masks limited air holes I would only be able to see her as I breathed out and the hood was in its expanded state.

That was a comment I had made myself a long time ago in another blog, it shows that my owner does know her slave, but what hadn't been anticipated was the interaction between the latex hood that was now becoming a permanent and welcome accessory and the red latex of the rebreather. Try as I might I couldn't get the bag to inflate, when it did the two hoods clung together and I was really struggling.

Whizzing the hood off quickly Mistress abandoned the experiment and went off muttering something about incompetent slaves, but she soon returned again waving a small item for my attention, and sounding unfazed she placed it on my face. 'A nice, used pair of my panties for you slave'. That in itself was fine; essence of Maggie is always a turn on, but not content with a little gusset sniffing Mistress produced a large plastic bag, eased it over my head and making sure the panties were appropriately placed she pulled the bag down over my shoulders. Because of my position on the couch, it produced a very effective seal around my shoulders and I was left thinking about fragrant panties, gazing at my wonderful owner through the bag and slowly starting to gasp for air. Well! That certainly took my mind off the drying latex.

A close glance at the photo shows the excellent results of a red sheathed latex cock and balls. A brilliant result for the inaugural painting and I do like acting as my owners Guinea Pig. You can see the only bit of my skin that was left exposed to the Clinic air. The photo gives an excellent study of my guiche and the red jewels that keep it securely in place. Yes red jewels.

Maggie hadn’t quite finished with my cock and balls yet and when she fetched her scissors I became quite concerned. 'I need to chop off the end', she announced. After all her hard and patient work, would it all end with Mistress chopping off my end?

I gulped. My thoughts rolled back to the castration I narrowly avoided recently and I wondered if the red latex was to camouflage any blood. . . I really shouldn't worry about Mistresses cock and balls so much. Maggie’s plans for my latex covered member only involved chopping the end off the condom. Once snipped, Mistress delighted in producing a couple of Rosebud sounds and gently inserting them deeply down my cock.

I am fairly certain Mistress would have fitted several more, I have easily accommodated 4 or 5 in the past, however, I had to be honest with my owner and announced that I was close to cumming. Not yet. After a couple of flicks to really rattle my libido the sounds were just as gently removed, leaving me frustrated yet relieved that I had managed to control myself. Only just though.

I still have a long way to go with controlling my natural urges, or perhaps I am exactly at the stage my Mistress wants. She controls my breathing, my hearing, all my bodily functions are in her hands including the ability to make me ejaculate. I think she was happy with what we had achieved and we adjourned back to the Playroom. As I mentioned, Mistress was on a tight schedule watching the paint dry and some things she had wished for today would need to wait until another day. In the meantime, me and my by now very red hot poker were sent to bed in the Playroom for a little more ‘watching paint dry time’.

Mistress chose to double hood me, a red rubber gas mask was added to augment my breathing, then spread-eagled on the bed I was left to contemplate how fortunate I am to have my Mistress as my owner. You can see the results of my contemplations. I have a huge red erection and no relief.

As I lay there, frustrated and rasping through the gas mask Mistress added a further layer to my frustrations by tucking me under the black latex bed sheet. Maggie teased me for a few moments and moved her hands over the latex layers and I spontaneously combusted. ‘Way too premature slave’, said Mistress, but I simply couldn't help it. Without direct stimulation Mistress had manipulated my senses to such a degree that I just came.

Lost in that post-orgasm euphoria, listening to the gentle music playing in the background, I lay there in the dark, until Maggie pulled back the top of the sheet. I could see her swaying seductively to the music and I do believe she too was enjoying the moment.

All good sessions must come to an end and as usual I offered to stay around and help with the tidying up. Quite a lot of sweaty latex had accumulated during the session that all needed washing and hanging to dry.

In the midst of all the cleaning Maggie said she desperately needed the toilet and quickly dashed to the loo, but as is her excellent bladder control she stopped mid flow, realising that she need not use the toilet when her eager slave is on hand to drink it, she called me over and ordered me on to my back on the bathroom floor, where she carefully squatted just above my mouth and told me not to spill any. ‘Absolutely Ma’am, instruction understood Ma’am’. Quite a finale to watching the paint dry and I know Mistress Maggie was well pleased with her slave, consuming her urine and not spilling one drop.

Podiatry, Pegging and Prototyping

Dressed in my casual latex t shirt and proudly wearing my leather slave collar once again I was making my way to the Chambers of Mistress Maggie, and giving thought as to what may be in store for me today. Maggie was a little excited about a new hood she had designed and I suspected it would be down to me to act as her test pilot; a role I love doing for my Mistress. She had e-mailed me and one or two comments suggested that her design was almost ready and would 'leave me breathless'. What I hadn't anticipated was an up close and personal encounter with the new dildo harness Mistress had ordered on our recent trip to Cathouse.

I checked my watch three times just to be on the safe side and at exactly 14:30 I rang the Chambers bell. That familiar thrill was still there, in fact a more intense thrill after all my training, also that familiar fear of where my learning might take me today were both present as I pressed the doorbell. I saw Maggie's features through the semi opaque glass panel and as the front door slowly opened I got an eyeful of the new harness, complete with a large glass dildo pointing towards me in a somewhat threatening manner. I didn't know where I should look. I love looking at my beautiful Mistress but this little blighter looked as though it was beckoning me to come in. In reality it was Maggie who was doing the beckoning and I was soon following her undulating red latex tights up towards the Playroom, while the forward facing glass monster disappeared from view.

As I was licking and kissing Mistresses red boots I did literally get an eyeful of the crystal monster. Maggie’s boots were long ones; way beyond her knees, and at the end of one of my very long licks towards the top of the boots, what should poke me in the eye but the clear dildo. It didn't hurt, but unfortunately for me, I’d made the mistake of nuzzling against the invader a little too lovingly for Mistresses liking and was soon hearing the crinkling sound of a plastic bag being unfurled. Quickly I attempted to redouble my efforts down at the foot end of the boots, but Mistress reminded me of the rules 'No contact above the footwear!’, and had me kneel between her latex thighs to have the plastic bag placed over my head.

Not a punishment as such. Mistress knows her slave loves to surrender my very breathing into her care and so the bag was tightened and held until I was pleading, converting the last vestiges of oxygen into carbon dioxide. Maggie pulled me closer and gazed into my eyes and asked ‘What do you need slave, my kiss or my air?’ Without hesitation 'Kiss please’, I gasped and I felt the warmth of her wonderful kiss through the plastic. Of course my owner didn't want to loose her slave, well not this early in the proceedings, so after a few last gasps of useless air I was allowed freedom and huge gulps of fresh Playroom air.

After that I received assistance getting into my black catsuit and a very comfortable black latex hood, which, although I didn't realise at the time, was to remain my friend for the whole of the session. Mistress was transforming me, as sometimes pleases her, into her total rubber plaything.

Completely rubberised I was now given another honour, that with her guidance Mistress allows me to perform; treatment for her feet. Mistress eased her lithe form onto the couch in her Clinic, then lounging back with her legs in the stirrups presented the foot manicure case to me. I have learnt that this can be a relaxing, sensual experience for Mistress as well as a very stimulating service for her slave! I needed to constantly remind myself that I was there to make Maggie’s feet feel beautiful and not to gaze at her radiance, or for that matter, dwell on what she might do with the monumental crystal dildo that was once again pointing at me from centre front.

The long red boots that I had just worshipped were carefully removed and put to one side. Fine emery boards had been supplied so I could work away on Maggie’s feet, smoothing away any rough skin I detected. Mistress is after all a very active lady, it’s hardly surprising her feet take a hammering, and I love being able to use my increasing podiatry skills to return them to their delicate tip top condition. Once smooth, Mistress likes her special foot lotion massaged into her feet to finish the process, 'not between the toes, slave’. A comment which I had remembered from my previous pedicure duties.

Mistress insisted I should not get foot lotion on my latex gloves and instructed me to don a pair of the Clinic's black disposable ones before applying the cream. I've never used these gloves before and struggled to stretch them sufficiently to fit my hands, but what a pleasant sensation. Once I snapped them into place they actually sealed not only my latex covered hands but also part way up the sleeve of the suit. More latex, I was loving these new gloves, but of course as soon as the foot massage was done I had to discard them, to prevent covering everything else in cream while Mistress was continuing her planned session in comfort.

With the foot treatment successfully concluded it was my turn on the couch, with my legs wide apart. I knew we were about to test not only the new dildo harness but the stretchiness and openness of my bottom, because Maggie was wearing the black Clinic gloves now and already doing a good job of making sure my opening was well lubricated. I was strapped down, not that I wanted to get away, but more of a symbolic reminder of Mistress’ authority and grandeur, before receiving the most thorough pegging I have ever received.

On at least two occasions I thought Mistress was going to allow her slave some relief, but as I have been taught, I advised my owner that . . . I think I am going to cum! . . and on both occasions an immediate stop and a plaintive frustrated voice from her frustrated slave . . . No, I am not cumming Mistress. Maggie adjusted the couch slightly to alter the angle of attack and slid her glass rod inside my eager bottom for a second pegging; fast and furious and face to face with my Mistress. Unfortunately, or perhaps very fortunate in view of how close I was to involuntary melt down, Mistress stopped, stood back admiring her handiwork and commented with a grin. ‘What a massive hole you have now slave’ and promptly sealed the opening with my butt plug and we moved back to the Playroom.

Things quickly began hotting up and I became a lot more rubbery. I was guided into a second rubber skin, by way of the all enclosing rubber bondage sack and strapped in place. Mistress helped me on to the Throne which she had carefully positioned under the overhead gantry, a roll of rubber bandages emerged from behind the Playroom blinds and she used them with very good effect to bind me to the chair.

Now to that illusive prototype that I had been so looking forward to trialling. I must admit to looking a little strange for about ten minutes as Maggie proudly fitted her mask on me for its initial testing. A helmet with two giant tusks and a drinking tube that I was told to grab between my teeth. Maggie braced herself, presumably for what she anticipated to be a tricky fitting, however, on the count of three it was pulled over the top of my existing hood and successfully went on at first attempt, completely sealing my face inside. What an incredible feeling to have the tight mask completely engulf me in yet more rubber.

I now knew why Mistress had permanently attached my zip on hood at the start and didn't remove it; no unruly moist hair to deal with, just a splash of talc, a little tug and it was on.

Satisfied with the tight fit and ease of putting it on Mistress explained how she planned to develop the masks potential; full breath control, ability to drink, and from that I assumed prolonged wearing of the mask. Mistress does enjoy being in full control of the minions in her charge, especially rubber ones, and I could see why she was excited with the prototype. Naturally there remained work to do, but I was lucky enough to be allowed to inhale a blast of aroma through one of the tusks before I saw the hood removed and consigned out of harms way for further development.

I was already quite hot in my two layers of rubber, moreso with the headrushing aromas, they made me feel intensely warm all over and I was truly relaxed as I sat there wobbling on my rubber stuffed ass watching Mistress set up her enema equipment on the overhead gantry. Well, she isn't really going to give me an enema, I thought. Two layers of latex and me plugged securely would make that rather difficult even for my very inventive owner. Instead, Mistress casually dropped her trousers, stood right in front of me and filled a waiting jug with her nectar. Not a drop spilt (thank goodness) and a big smile behind my mask. Ahh - that's what the enema bag is for, and in my haze I could already imagine having my mouth filled with the warm golden nectar.

Sometimes slaves do get what they desire. Maggie strapped a breathe through gag into my mouth before pouring her fluids into the enema bag above me, the contents were soon running down the tube directly into my waiting mouth. In future, the drinking tube in the tusker may be used, but in the meantime the traditional gag would suffice for alternating my little drinks of nectar with little sniffs of the aroma. I got the impression that Mistress thought I was enjoying the process far too much, she opted to add a rebreather bag to make life more entertaining for herself and stressful for her slave.

I am no longer a novice to rebreathing and knew from previous experience to take long, slow breaths to get a very limited intake of fresh air through the base of the rebreather. Exhaling as much as you can forces a small amount of stale air from the bag and when you inhale a small amount of clean air is drawn in.

Mistress didn't help my concentration by adjusting the aromas, opening the drinking tube and just generally teasing her latex plaything. I managed to breath well though and more importantly I managed to finish my drink. All in all I reflected on another wonderful experience in rubber with my rubber Mistress.

With the addition of a blindfold Maggie maintained the rebreather for a little while longer. I sat and concentrated on the deep breath in, deep breath out routine until Maggie finally decided that I had received enough controlled breathing for the day, I was released from the rubber bandages, blindfold removed and eased carefully onto the latex bed to be covered in one of those very nice, very thick and totally opaque black rubber sheets for a little quiet reflection time.

I hadn't had this little luxury for a while and as I lay there in my own quiet rubber world I thought about the prospect of wearing the tusk helmet for extended periods and how exciting that might be. I thought about the rubber helmet that I had been wearing almost from the start of the session and how nice it felt to be permanently fully rubbered. I tried to wiggle my butt plug but it wouldn't budge, so I thought about watching my Mistress ramming the glass dildo rapidly in and out, but mainly I thought of Mistress Maggie and how fortunate I had been to be accepted for training almost six years ago.

I suspect I will see a lot more of the Tusk helmet once the improvements are complete, and I suspect that the comfortable latex hood and my head may become inseparable during many future training sessions, as nicely demonstrated today it made applying and removing hoods and helmets far easier for my Mistress.

Castration - Reality or Roleplay?

A year ago I would never have imagined that I’d have reason to write about the relief, thrill and delight I’m feeling at still being able to look forward to Mistress Maggie’s testicle torments; the delights of having my ball sac sewn together, having them stapled into one homogenous blob, or stretched beyond endurance in that over engineered wooden stretcher. Even the thought of powerful electro sensations round my balls, having them stung with potent nettles, or any number of other ball torturing activities that I might have shuddered at in the past will now bring a smile to my face, after so nearly becoming detached from my little spheres.

My sleek latex Mistress.

Mistress had given me a vague glimmer of what I could expect in my calling mail . . . your sleek latex Mistress expects her operations will have you simmering with delight as you are moved from one tight situation to another. . . Well, this slave does appreciate more than a little tightness, especially where latex is concerned, but no doubt Maggie’s reference to a tight situation would likely end up being something far more sinister.

True to her word Mistress greeted me in her sleek outfit of matching teal blue top and hot-pants, her nyloned legs had a light sheen and were on full display making her look as stunning as ever. I was a little breathless when I arrived, early as it turned out, but Mistress was keen to proceed and was half way up the stairs before I’d had time to remove my coat and shoes. Forever thoughtful, she stopped and waited for me to join her, in very close visual contact with her delightful derrière. I tried to explain that the clock in the car was slow and I thought I may be late so had needed to rush to the door of the Chambers. I needn't have bothered, Mistress is never very interested in excuses as her slaves should ensure mistakes never happen.

In the Playroom the normal routines were performed; latex gloves and socks on, everything else off and bend down at the feet of my Mistress ready to perform worship to her black, high heeled shoes. The insertion of my new ribbed butt plug was achieved with relative ease, I must admit that though the plug is a good tight fit, it could not compare with the tighter and potential life changing event which took place later in the session.

I had been entrusted to launder a pair of Maggie’s lace panties and bring them to my session, there was a slight hiccup in the pleasant flow in proceedings when I was asked to hand them over for examination. I have already had one very poor attempt at cleaning Mistresses panties and had suffered the consequences, so I had spent a lot of time carefully hand washing them in non-bio, I’d rinsed them in nice floral scented conditioner and hung them out to dry. I was pleased with the results; not so Mistress. Out came her examination light and after close scrutiny and fiddling with the stuck up corners of a tiny ribbon embellishment, she pronounced that the delicate pink bow on the front had not been ironed! Marks of seven out of ten was all I received, apart from the marks left imprinted across my backside, made by the hairbrush which Maggie admonished her slave with for his poor laundry-ship. I was disappointed with the low marks but of course there is no appeal system as Rule 6 applies: Mistress is never wrong.

With a deep breath and the pull of a zip both myself and my spanked ass were soon snugly fitted in my plum catsuit. Could this be one of the tight situations mentioned in the mail? It certainly felt nice and comfortable and tight to me, but once again my tight suit could not compare with what came later. I think I’ve lost a little weight and while Mistress gave her rubber slave a dust and polish to remove the inevitable excess of dressing talc, she said how delighted she was with how the suit now fitted.

Training was going well so far, I stood and waited for Mistress to rifle through her hood drawer in search of a latex pull on hood with perforation at eyes, and there was a little natural humour as Maggie tried to get the tight hood over my big head. Out came the cleaning towel to dry off my moist hair, and finally after the fourth attempt, a little huffing and the odd puffing the hood was on. A few minor facial adjustments and I could see adequately through the perforated eye holes, which would be the most vision I was allowed until we returned from the Clinic.

What followed marked a distinct step forward in my complete submission and acceptance of Mistresses total authority over her slave. As per the proverb: as you sow, so shall you reap, the consequences of the next part of my training were issues that I had 'wished' upon myself. The first involved my suggestion to use the facial aperture in Maggie’s new Clinic couch as a securing point for a slaves head, not in a conventional face down massage position, but allowing the rear of the slaves head to rest in the opening and be securely strapped down to make any head movement impossible. And boy, did I get the rewards for my suggestion!

The strong clear plastic straps that Mistress has made for the couch are very effective at confining the torso, while the two tan leather straps buckled tight across my forehead and mouth held my head like a vice. For want of a better word, my second ‘reaping’ came as somewhat of a surprise to say the least. A shiny medical instrument in the form of a pair of steel pliers was positioned in front of my perforated eyeholes for me to see.

‘Do you know what these are slave?’ A long time ago I had inadvertently marked a photo of an elastrator as a Flickr favourite. I really am unsure why and quickly decided it best to delete it, knowing how such an instrument could give life changing results in the hands of a sadistic Flickr viewer. Too late, the seeds were sown. Maggie must have spotted my favoured picture and thought about making the idea a reality. ’It’s an elastrator Mistress’, I suggested and her gleeful response was quite a bombshell for me. ‘Yes slave and I am going to use it to castrate you.’ You may find it hard to believe, but in that instant I really had no thoughts other than the promise I had made to Mistress. . . I promise that I will do my best to . . . willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question.

De-nutting in progress - Do not Disturb!

Mistress wheeled her steel trolley a little nearer to the operating area and raised the couch to her comfortable working height. She kept referring to my operation, explaining what would be done, how multiple bands would be used to help speed up the process of detaching my balls, warning me that it might hurt and how I’d be gagged if I made a fuss, or screamed with the pain, before announcing that she was ready to begin and the first band was going on now.

It actually didn't hurt but felt quite snug. As extra rings were gradually added, the compression in my ball sac increased, while the area where the castration rings were being deployed gained a tighter feeling. The only bit that was even slightly uncomfortable was when one of Mistresses bands came off the elastrator prematurely, pinged across my balls and ended up somewhere on the Clinic floor, probably where my balls would end up once they dropped off. Oh well, should make for easier tidying up after the op. My cock was kept out of harms way by the clever use of a leather strap, until, one after the other, ten bands had been gently elastrated on to my ball sac. Maggie then patted my balls and indicated that all we had to do was wait. Strangely, as I lay there about to lose my balls, I could still manage a raging erection each time Mistress patted the tight sac and asked me 'Can you still feel that sensation slave?'. It’s clear that the operations Mistress had referred to in her calling mail were tight enough to have my excess body fat bulging out around her restraining straps and provided an even worse tight situation for her slaves manhood.

Maggie praised me for being brave and caressed her rubber patient, then with an air of disappointment in her voice she said that she’d changed her mind and decided not to castrate her slave, for today at least, as she gets far too much enjoyment with putting my nuts into various predicaments and laughing at the results. Hence my opening remarks about welcoming their stitching, electrocuting, nettling etc. I was to be left with a pair of fully functioning balls and each of the ten bands were teased off and consigned to the waste bucket.

If you are on Flickr there is some video footage of my castration HERE but may not be available on all devices.

Mistress may have been performing a very professional role play scenario, but from the moment I was strapped down the whole event seemed very real to me. I thought Maggie really wanted my balls as a trophy and quite frankly, I was in a mind set whereby I was ready to say farewell to them by the time she removed the bands, and desperately hoping that Maggie would still get enjoyment from playing with a de-balled slave.

Simmering with delight.

After the relief of retaining my balls, we moved back to the Playroom where the Throne, the Gas Station and the folding chair were all set out neatly by the window. What I didn't see but definitely noticed was the feeling of my butt plug being removed to be replaced with an inflating, vibrating one. Another of Mistresses little quirks had me witness what 16 pumps looked like before I was bent over the throne to have it stuffed up my royal ass and promptly pumped up to the desired proportions. The vibrator was turned on and set quaking at a magnitude which would cause fracking protestors to palpitate, I was strapped into a tight and heavy leather corset and securely bound to the bondage chair. Unusually my arms were kept free, but Mistress had made sure her restraints were buckled behind me, way out of reach with no quick chance of escape.

My full vision returned when Mistress began attending to my headgear, the Israeli gas mask she fitted on me had nice big eyes and I could watch my owner as she checked the controls on her Gas Station and brought out the breath-play hoses. A familiar noise exploded when Mistress adjusted a tap and I started to bubble my breathing through the liquid filled bottle. I was a little disappointed when the bubble bottle provided essence of tap water and not essence of Mistress; that very heady, exciting, sexy smell that I have grown to love over 5 years exposure to Mistress’ nectar. However, slaves cannot be choosers and the potion Maggie had me breathing through carried the latex smell of the tubes, mixed with the merest hint of clinical chlorine.

To a slave who had so recently thought I was to become Maggie's eunuch, I was absolutely delighted when Mistress said that she'd be joining me in the bubble bottle experience and seated herself on the folding Playroom chair. She donned her own gas mask, an identical model to mine, and attached her breathing hose to the Gas Station. At the turn of a tap, my regular bubbling was joined by the softer, gentler, quieter bubbling of my Mistress. Relaxing now on the carefully positioned chair she casually rested her feet across my lap and we sat there in our latex drinking in the bubbly atmosphere, or ‘simmering with delight’ as Mistress had so accurately put it.

And I realised why the chair and Throne had been so precisely placed. I was able to gently caress and stroke Maggie’s beautiful feet and legs in their shimmering sheer tights for a long time, but the prospect of having my hands surreptitiously stray above her rather nice knees had been removed by Mistress and her cunning bondage. I could only look on and dream about caressing her beautiful thighs. I stayed stroking and caressing her legs and looking adoringly at her superb but definitely out of bounds body for as long as my owner wished, complete with a full set of balls and happy in the knowledge my Mistress might still find an amusing use for her little sphericals. I was a happy and content slave.

I experienced quite a few extremely tight situations today and am so thankful that I left with my balls intact, ready to be toyed or sadistically manipulated by their owner on hopefully many more occasions, and that nagging question of whether it was reality or role play when Mistress Maggie was 'castrating' her slave? Either way, I moved that bit closer to total ownership and acceptance of anything my Mistress wishes to do to her slave.

A very professional role play or a change of heart? That is the nagging question that only time will resolve.

Pampering for Mistress

I have just experienced an excellent and relaxing session with Mistress Maggie. Today was all about pampering my owner after a long and arduous couple of weeks for her, and what a surprise was in store for her slave. It had been a while since Maggie had been shopping at Cathouse and she decided it could be her treat for the day, while for me it meant a trip back to Yorkshire and a session that was virtually pain free! Yes, I know I shouldn't say something that can so easily be reversed, but today turned out to be two friends enjoying a drive across the Pennines and enjoying each others company.

There was never any doubt about who was in charge; Maggie is always that, but of course, I wouldn't be one of Mistress Maggie's slaves if I didn’t expect some of the unexpected and Maggie wanted to gently remind me that I would still be under training and close scrutiny all the time we were out. ’Trousers down. Bend over the horse slave’ and I was duly fitted with the pair of Kegel balls and wired to the remote receiver that Maggie carefully attached to my belt, in full blinking view to those in the know. Mistress carried out a few tests to ensure the Kegels were working and to established what remote control levels she could safely deploy, and I detected a note of pleasant surprise as she gradually ramped up the volume into the red zone of her control box before I began wincing and twitching.

The second surprise was a leather cock and ball collar to which Maggie attached one of her playroom leads. I was given a thorough walking workout on it to make sure that it was on tight enough, before she announced that a new lead would be more of an adventure and that we could pick one up just round the corner. ‘Looks like I will have to fiddle inside your Y-fronts to attach the new lead’ she laughed. I smiled in anticipation of my Mistress with her hand on her cock and balls attempting to attach a lead in public. Wow that will be a buzz!

We left, to all appearances two good friends going for a day shopping, but I quickly received my first training reminder. ‘In here slave’, as Maggie directed me into the local pet shop. We navigated to the section containing retractable dog leads, all displayed inside a lock up security cabinet, and were quickly joined by a charming and very professional salesman. We were discussing the retractable leads; small, medium or large dog size when the salesman innocently looked round for the pooch and asked ‘What size dog do you have?’ Without batting an eyelid, Mistress nonchalantly motioned at me and said ‘It’s for him. I'll need a discreet model, something small, and black please’. The gentleman barely flinched and I thought I had better go along with this and asked about the amount of lead that was left dangling when fully retracted. For those in the know it’s about 12", but I had to say something. We paid and on request, the gentleman kindly took it from its plastic carton so we could use it immediately. I must admit, much to my relief, Mistress made no attempt to attach the lead to either my slave collar or cock collar as we headed back to the car. Once again, I say thank you to that salesman for being a true professional, although I bet he had a tale to tell at tea time.

The journey across the Pennines to Liversedge was pleasant, talk and laughter interspersed with an incredibly sexy crackle from Mistresses black PVC mac. If you have never experienced that crackle and creak of a sexy woman gently moving in a PVC mac, be warned, it can be most distracting and I had promised Maggie's husband that I would take extra special care of my VIP. I concentrated hard on my driving, managing a sideways admiring glance at my shiny stunning owner whenever it was safe to do so. Thank goodness for red traffic lights. I am certain Mistress knows the pronounced effect she always has on me!

Outside Cathouse I half expected to have our new lead attached and be led into the shop, but no. I think my Mistress was far too excited about examining the superb range of leather and latex hoods, dresses, corsets, stocking etc to be bothered with dragging a slave dog around on a lead. Happy enough to turn on my power pack though and have it blinking away on my belt, clicking her remote control rather obviously every now and then.

I pottered around the shop whilst Mistress was occupied with the merchandise and then trying on a dildo harness that had caught her eye to ensure comfort and fit. As I continued to potter around and chat to Caroline the owner, an induced stiffness began happening in my trousers. It was obvious that Mistress was up to mischief behind the dressing room curtain, because the signal to my Kegel balls was slowly creeping up into the very active red zone. Caroline is easy to talk to, but not wanting to make her concerned I had to try really hard to control my wincing.

Maggie had decided that she liked the harness but I could see she was a little perplexed about the ring size as it would only take a smaller size dildo. As I listened intently, I had one of those very rare lightbulb moments and suggested my idea to both Caroline and Mistress. After a little more discussion the craftsman was called, and yes, it was feasible to have detachable rings. I felt pleased to have helped but quickly reminded that my Mistress is in charge with another burst in the red zone.

Maggie ordered the latex strap-on harness with the interchangeable rings and a pair of custom made stockings. Some fingerless latex gloves were spotted and their purchase eagerly made. I was delighted that Mistress was able to wear them immediately as a memento of yet another excellent trip to an excellent fetish manufacturer.

On our return journey a hiccup with my monitoring the satnav had me taking a slight deviation which meant we missed our quiet coffee stop where last time Maggie had expertly bagged me in the car park. M62 Westbound at 16:00 on a Friday is a nightmare and the journey took far longer than either of us hoped. Conscious that Mistress would appreciate a light snack and a coffee, we stopped at Birch Services and out popped the retractable dog lead from Maggie’s handbag. I was denied the pleasure of having Mistress fiddling in my pants to attach my lead and was told to clip it on myself. The leather cock and ball strap had remained firmly in place, allowing Mistress to walk me confidently to our destination along the grassy verge around the perimeter of the car park, then towards the entrance to the services with me led by a lead emerging from the flies of my pants. I admit I was a little relieved when Maggie handed me the lead at the entrance and said to stick the handle in my pocket.

We sat, had a coffee and shared a hot sausage sandwich, Maggie in that very sexy coat, me trying my hardest not to get an obvious erection at the sight and sound of my beautiful owner and talked and laughed a lot more. Because of the congestion, Mistress realised there would be no time for Playroom activities when we returned to Preston. Quietly she leant forward and reminded me that she controls if and when I can cum and now might be a nice time to do so. She instructed me to walk to the toilets and I had ten minutes to bring myself off before the Kegels, which were currently feeding my ass with some particularly nice sensations, would be once again pushed into the red zone. As it happened it only took a few minutes, what with the accumulated stimulus of that crinkly mac, the earlier Kegel red zoning, the excellent time round Cathouse, being led to the services by my cock collar, but above all being in the wonderfully relaxed company of my owner and good friend. Then the embarrassing realisation that I had picked the cubicle with no toilet paper!

Once more, Mistress Maggie had introduced new, unimagined experiences for me to serve her with. I have never had a dog lead attached to my cock before and I certainly have never been sent to public toilets to masturbate before. Of course there was never any chance of my refusing. Mistress and I both knew that. The outcome was inevitable. And yes of course I thoroughly washed my hands as Mistress is a stickler for good hygiene.

One interesting fact as we returned to the Playroom to de-Kegel, Maggie commented on how sensible my Y-fronts were if I were to have the collar and lead attached again. I got the impression from the gleam in her eyes that if I am told to wear Y-fronts I’m in for some very interesting walkies. I am a really fortunate slave that after 125 sessions I believe my Mistress can trust me not to disgrace myself or more importantly, embarrass my owner, and that is partly what my extensive training has been about. Most importantly, I think Mistress Maggie enjoyed being pampered on our shopping trip.

Damn those Beautiful Eyes

It was oppressively hot; the summer solstice; the hottest day of the year so far. I hadn't seen my owner for three weeks and five days and flowers were the order of the day. And so I arrived, shirt sleeves and no coat despite the slight threat of thunder, but I knew there was definitely going to be a thunder storm in the Chambers because of my previously identified poor shaving. The door was opened by a vision in gold. Mistress appears a young 38, or at a pinch 40, yet on one of her profiles I thought I had read she was 50+. I know Mistress Maggie is always right because Rule 6 says Mistress is never wrong, so it is quite obvious that I had made a mistake or somehow misread the literature. She can't be over 50. Along with not making mistakes, Mistress doesn't forget anything either!

I didn't have long enough to admire her immaculately coiffured jet black hair and her radiant beauty, because I was drawn to her gold latex rear as she leashed my slave collar, keeping me on a very short rein as we ascended to the Playroom. Her face wasn't alone in radiating warmth. Try as I know I should, I couldn't prevent my nose occasionally brushing those wonderfully smooth, golden orbs, feeling her warmth and smelling that perfume that only latex can generate.

Red guiche, red plug and red arse!

A quick-change visit to the bathroom had me hooded and worshipping her black high heels just as Mistress likes; long, slow, wet licks along both shoes. I was trying to make my worship last as long as I could, hoping to distract Mistress from what I knew was coming! As I said, Mistress doesn't forget and true to her word my shaving infraction was next on her agenda.

I was taken on a walk on my lead, several times round the playroom while Mistress explained what I should expect. At least I remembered how to 'walk' to heel, close to Mistresses thigh so she can control her pet, interspersed with the odd crack from her butterfly shaped crop. Maggie explained that I wouldn't be getting a set number of lashes, nor would I receive my beating with a set implement, but instead I would receive a good lathering applied in a random fashion - just like my shaving!

And so it was that I was secured over the high horse and received the most severe beating that I have ever experienced. On quite a few occasions Mistress paused saying 'straighten up slave' and beating me some more. I lost count of how many strokes and with what implement, it did draw tears as I bucked and jerked on the horse and have to admit that I virtually lost it with the amount of pain radiating from my bottom. Mistress explained I had received random strokes with; studded paddle, beach shoe, a two finger tawse, a thick double leather strap finishing with the Delrin cane. I survived - just, but I need to apologise to Maggie for being such a wimp during my chastisement.

Who's a bright spark now?

Did I mention that it was the hottest day so far? Well my backside ended up considerably hotter and I was sweating like the proverbial oink. Whether it was the profuse sweating, the lube up my bumhole or just its wonderful flexibility, but I was soon feeling my new, ribbed, red, flexible butt plug being easily inserted where the sun don’t shine.

After a few moments to recover and with the help of a little talc, Maggie had me easily inserted in my heavyweight black rubber catsuit as well, and I was soon on the latex sheets with wrists chained to the bed ready for Mistress to continue her plan.

I was exhausted after my beating and could barely raise my head from the soft latex pillow, but I could just see Maggie doing this and that, retrieving equipment from here or there then I got a clear vision of her standing level with my exposed cock and balls and drizzling some delightfully cool liquid from a small bottle. What a wonderful Mistress I thought, on the hottest day she is cooling her slave and massaging that coolant all around the base of my shaft and balls. I have said I am owned by the perfect Mistress.

After a little firmer manipulation I realised Mistress was doing a little more than just cooling her property, and although I couldn't see the results this picture never lies. The cooling lubricant was obviously electro-conducting gel to ensure I was a good conductor for the electro chastity cage. Yes - YESSSS Mistress I am definitely getting a response!

Hot and happy.

'Today slave you are going to be my rubber play toy’. . . off came my working mask and on went the heavier, tighter system mask, which certainly helped with my transformation. I lay there manacled and enjoying the situation immensely, apart from when Mistress used her remote control to vary the electronics, that made me enjoy the situation far too much and I groaned a request to Maggie, may I cum?

‘Of course not, you are my play toy’, and off went the electrics for a while leaving a most frustrated slave. I lay there perspiring but very happy. I could hear and get occasional glances of Mistress preparing the bondage Plank and placing the heavy leather sleep sack on top of it. Once ready I was instructed to ease myself onto the Plank, distribute my vast bulk evenly along it and shuffle until I was comfortably inside the sack.

Quiet, you fool!

To say it was warm inside was somewhat of an understatement, but I think I could still manage to drop off to sleep if allowed. No chance. A quick, heavy burst of the electrics every now and then accompanied by whiffs of aromas, applied using the feeding cup up one nostril method, guaranteed I remained wide awake.

You may have gathered that I have a tendency to talk too much and dare I say, waffle a little. I can't help it when I am in my owners company. Mistress knows that I waffle and shortly after I suggested that she cannot possibly be 50, Mistress used another of the system masks’ components to shut me up, but only after she had laughingly asked if I would like to accompany her when she goes to have her birth certificate altered. I love her sense of humour.

I gazed up at Maggie, who by now had brought her high stool to the head of the plank, she sat with her headphones on enjoying some music on her iPod, she swayed rhythmically and very evocatively, letting out a big smile each time she sent another electric blast into my cock cage and up my cock shaft.

This went on for some time before she casually slid down her crotch zip and started caressing herself, inches from my eyes. I looked longingly at my Mistress knowing that was definitely forbidden territory for a simple slave and then gazed into her eyes that were dreamily half closed as she continued to finger her pussy. Those eyes have helped captivate this slave and countless other lucky men. You could just drown in their unfathomable depths.

Enough! At last Mistress stepped down from her stool, re-zipped and seated herself comfortably on a very eager face. By now I was acutely aware that I was swimming inside the sleep sack but Maggie was also aware of the situation and had been plying me with regular sips of water through a rubber straw, not as good as the real McCoy but very welcome all the same. I needn't have fretted, Mistress was to treat me to some proper fluid intake and donned her piss-pants.

Another pillow to assist with my drinking position, another inflatable system gag but this time with a drinking tube attached, and I was about to receive my much sought after infusion from a very full piss reservoir. Not all at once. Mistress knows my limitations and turns her flow tap on and off to provide me with a couple of gulps at a time, as I suck to receive the most welcome drink you could imagine. A little warm if I am honest, but wow, a superb vintage. I have to admit that there was so much available and although in a reasonable drinking position, I could not consume all my wine and Mistress ended up having to waste part of her outpouring. ‘Pity, as I have a particularly full bladder today’ she said. She certainly did and I am certain that when I am in a more upright position, I would not waste even one drop.

Mistress had said I was to be her rubber play toy, however, when she removed the electric chastity device from me I detected a note of disdain, obviously brought on by the sight of the horrible shrunken thing that fell out of it. Maggie said that a vac pump would be an appropriate thing to use on it, an 'encourager' to draw a little size back into her pathetic cock. Mmm, perhaps I might finally be allowed some relief from all my pent up tension?

No chance. Mistress was not going to permit any orgasms. She lubed the area to get a good airtight seal and pumped up the cock and kept pumping ‘. . . even if it’s going hurt, because big cocks are more fun to play with.’ Five minutes later, still pump, pump, pump. . .

It didn't hurt but I was still throbbing with pent up frustration. I know I should not think of my owner Mistress Maggie in such terms but I cannot help myself even after years of training, that I find her stunningly attractive. At least I can withhold an orgasm now. . .

Er. Until I got home of course!