Lassos Everywhere

Mistress Maggie has certainly been interested in dealing with bottoms these last few weeks, two weeks ago when I visited her my bum received an almighty beating for my misconduct. Today when Mistress opened the door to her Chambers it immediately looked like my bum would be receiving more of her attentions, the big clue came in the form of the strap-on dildo that heaved and smiled as I entered the Chambers.

Mistress did continue to concentrate on my bum area but without the painful consequences. I was restrained on the Clinic couch with my bum raised to the perfect height and inclination for Mistress to lube up my private space without any fuss. Her rather large dildo which had done nothing but wave at me since I arrived was then slipped inside me as Mistress proceeded to mount her slave achieving a flawless entry.

The dildo had looked pretty big when I’d been worshipping Maggie's shoes, but I must have had an equally big lust for being mounted, because the huge rod slid in with ease and kept sliding in further; gently but firmly until our bodies met. I really enjoyed being taken this way and in fact I almost enjoyed it too much as Maggie gently massaged my cock as the dildo thrust in and out.

Satisfied that my bum had been reacquainted with her sizeable toy, out came the dildo to be replaced by an inflatable one. Mistress threatened 10 pumps, but if I'm being honest I could have taken quite a few more bulb squeezes, I was feeling so good at the time. (Another comment that no doubt will come home to roost!).

I think Mistress has been watching too many John Wayne movies judging by the number of lassos she deployed on my cock and balls. One round each ball and attached to the couch extension. One round the base of my cock pulling in one direction then another and another, all stretched tightly and pulling in every way Maggie could manage. Count them. Eight are visible!

Of course from where I was sitting I couldn’t see the results of Mistress’ lassoing, but I did feel like a steer at a rodeo as I lay rock still knowing that any movement in any direction could have 'surprising' consequences.

Now that I have had chance to view my predicament, Maggie's attention to detail is clear. There is a symmetry about the cock and ball bonds that only a true expert can achieve. Even the alignment of the picture was perfect; red butt plug, red jewels of my lovely guiche and the taught diagonals of my confining ropes make a striking picture of a slave pleasing his Mistress, and I of course was very happy with the situation. What self respecting slave wouldn't be?

Maggie had completed her planned cock and ball tethering, but in one of those spontaneous moments her voice lit up and she asked. 'Do you fancy a sound slave?' A question that didn’t need any thought and I almost shouted my approval.

Maggie disappeared and returned after a short while with a freshly sterilised sound. 'It's a larger sized one that you've worn before slave'. Before I knew it and for the second time today, her desired object was greased up and without any resistance began sliding deep inside me. It felt so good and I do love it when my Mistress invades yet another of my private areas. Well, in reality, all areas are her private areas and she is free to invade wherever she wants.

The picture does provide an enlightening view of the detachable 'goal posts' that Maggie was using to hang, draw and quarter my most sensitive of areas.

And this, of course, is a picture of my perfect Mistress complete with dildo. By this time the lassos had been removed and we had returned to the Playroom ready for the final scenario of today's session. She was demonstrating how comfortable her Playroom chair was before a completely rubber covered and very appreciative slave took up semi-permanent residence on it.

The chair was repositioned underneath the central Playroom gantry and I replaced Mistress as incumbent of the chair. Maggie enclosed my head in one of her a soft nylon stockings, then beginning with my head and working downwards my total bondage encounter commenced, involving copious quantities of cling film, several stout leather straps to suspend my legs and feet, some bright yellow gaffer tape to add a little colour, a most effective and comfortable rubber gag and as a very nice finishing touch, a posture collar was secured round my neck at maximum tightness.

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

Mistress spent some time simply putting on her long latex gloves whilst sitting on my lap. The background mood music was eerie yet strangely sensual and my Mistress continued to move like a slithery serpent all round and over her slave. That most erotic of movements could only be reciprocated by the slightest of movement and the faintest of grunts from her very keen slave, such was the designs of her bondage, the restrictions of the cling film meant I couldn't even stroke my cock and balls as Mistress Maggie had ensured my hands were firmly secured to prevent movement. An altogether surreal bondage event that I would never have dreamt being part of when I rose out of bed that morning.

I know, I am a really lucky slave.

Dear Blog, My Bum Hurts!

January was such a benign, some may say surreal start to the New Year, what with all the heavy rubber and the huge dose of DFP that I’d had, so it came as somewhat of a reality check when February's first session arrived.

As you probably guess if you have been following my training schedule with Mistress Maggie, I am not yet capable of maintaining the high standards expected from one of Mistresses slaves and one consequence of these lapses is remonstration and retribution for my wrongdoings, another consequence is that we must continue my training in order to strive for the perfection expected from my Mistress.

However, before the reckoning, normal training had to be accommodated by fitting my butt plug and performing the obligatory worship of Mistresses footwear. A good entry method for the butt plug was achieved as Maggie had me kneel down, forehead on floor and then sat on my back so she could lube and insert the plug in a relaxed manner. Then on with my ordeal, it certainly was an ordeal to start with but as our session progressed I found myself with the brightest smile possible.

Maggie said I was not allowed any rubber until I had recognised and been reprimanded for my mistakes. Three infringements were to be counted before the slate could once more be wiped clean. Coming up with a mad idea for Mistresses website; forgetting my slave collar after our last DFP session; and probably the worst indiscretion, I got the dates mixed up for Mistresses birthday and sent her husband John the Happy Birthday message, what an absolute numpty!

Ode to Mistress Maggie

(With no apologies to Don Maclean but if you wish to sing along to the tune of  'American Pie' feel free. I certainly was singing!)


But February made me shiver

  with every blow Maggie did deliver

Bad news on the flogging horse
  I couldn't take one more step of course.



I can remember that I cried

  when I felt the cane on my backside

Something touched me deep inside

  the day my buttocks fried.


With the different infringements, Maggie thought different methods of reparation would be appropriate and if a slave forgets to pick up his slave collar then of course his hands deserve a good slapping. Mistress refused to return my collar until she had demonstrated how unimpressed she was that I’d forgotten it and punishment started with a hand tawsing; 3 strokes to each hand with the two fingered tawse. I have not had any kind of hand slapping since I was at school and this punishment really hurt, yet my training obviously kicked in as I obediently stood there after the first instruction to hold my hands out flat, one palm on top of the other and to reverse the hands after each blow. My hands really began to sting yet I had no doubt they would be in place for the next blow, just as Mistress had decreed. At least I got my collar returned from behind the curtain, I felt a lot better being reunited with it, but I had to buckle it on with my red raw chastised hands.

I was then introduced to Maggie’s new flogging horse. Oh the joys of such an introduction and perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned it in the DFP blog! For the most serious crime of mixing up birthdays I would be going over that very same horse, I received a hand spanking followed by a paddling with a short leather strap which had the word ‘pig’ emblazoned along it. After a short interlude Maggie continued my warm up with a beating from her double leather strap before using her cane to land six of the best on my now throbbing ass.

As it happened the long cane that Maggie intended to use proved too long for the space available, my fault for poor positioning of the flogging horse, and because of the restricted arc it made wonky marks that were not to her liking, so Maggie started again with a shorter crooked model and I got six straighter cuts as well. OUCH!

Maggie must have thought I was suitably contrite and I finally got to wear my red latex catsuit, but she had not forgotten my crazy suggestion of publishing the story from my DFP session on her website. My mentioning this had irritated Maggie as she has much better things to do with her valuable time, like seriously redesigning her site in order to comply with the pending UK porn laws. I was going to have my mouth washed out in the slave toilet for speaking such foolish words.

It is really quite eerie in the box with the toilet lid down. You get a glow through the tight latex but nothing else. A slave is very vulnerable in that position and before I knew it the lid was lifted, I was re-introduced to the view of Maggie’s very well proportioned and most beautiful derrière as it descended over me and delivered the most welcome ‘punishment’ you could imagine. It turned out this wasn’t the real punishment for pissing Maggie off.

After I had received her offerings and the soaked latex hood had been removed I was led to the bathroom to have my hair rinsed. Bent over the bath I received a wonderfully warm hair wash and then . . . the bloody shower was turned to freezing cold. Maggie laughed as my oohs and aah’s turned to OOHS and AARGS!

When I was marched back from the bathroom, instead of turning left back to the Playroom, Mistress turned right into the Clinic. At least I wasn’t scheduled for more cane, well not in the Clinic anyway. Instead Maggie decided it was time for a spot of dentistry, to check out my mouth for clues as to why I talk so much rubbish. The rubber smell from the anaesthetic mask she placed over my nose soon turned into wafts of aroma, that had me laying back quite relaxed and ready for my dental examination from Maggie the rubber Nurse.

Of course, as with all operations and examinations in the White Room, the environment is scrupulously clean and I received a rubber gown to make sure my working suit was out of the way.

A Jennings gag was fully deployed allowing Mistress to dive in and have a real root around with her dental instruments, keeping my tongue under control with her wooden spatula. Once satisfied that my teeth were my own and not likely to pop out during the operation, Maggie momentarily went out of vision saying she was off to mix some amalgam. Another dose of anaesthesia and Maggie started working the preparation she had just mixed into my teeth and gums. It turned out the amalgam was actually a strong tasting pasty peppermint type of mixture. Anyway, Maggie thoroughly worked the paste into each quadrant of my mouth and I must admit that despite the thorough cleaning I always give them before seeing my Mistress, my teeth felt sparklingly clean and fresh.

When the gag was removed, I was manoeuvred into an almost bolt upright position and encouraged to thoroughly rinse my mouth out with depressingly plain tap water, I had hoped for Maggie’s glorious champagne but had to suffice with the simple plain stuff. Maggie amused herself by inserting cotton pads behind top and bottom cheeks, probably to prevent any more of the ‘tongue in cheek’ comments that have a tendency to land her slave in trouble. She burst out laughing as I said ‘ffank yuuu’, sounding and looking a lot like Marlon Brando. It was nice to hear the natural laugh from my Mistress.

After all the investigative work was complete, Mistress used her optical mirror for a final look round; molars ok, incisors ok, all wadding removed, you are good to go until your next examination. Maggie, however hadn’t finished her investigating, my gown was lifted and she started concentrating on the other end. No teeth down there although my cock and balls have received the bites of clamps and clips on other occasions, for now though it was a seductive lube and tease. After a goodly dollop of lube, Mistress massaged it in methodically around my cock and balls until I had a rod like the proverbial ‘greasy pole’. Standing back with a very provocative wink and smile Maggie glided the excess lube across her beautiful bust, superb stomach and all around her breathtaking buttocks. It was fascinating to watch as her latex uniform took on that sheen of a high gloss liquid. I now knew how it was possible to achieve such a high gloss sheen.

However, achieving such a shine has major detrimental effects on the slide-ability of latex. By now Mistress had released my right hand and I reached out to stroke her super shiny bottom, an activity we both enjoy, and to my disappointment and surprise my latex glove just stuck to her lubed up dress, not literally stuck but I just couldn’t get that gentle, sliding caress that I try and achieve. I wonder if it would have been slippier with an application of lube to my glove? It is definitely strange that dry latex does not slide on water based lubrication. You learn something every day and despite the fact it made Mistress Maggie look super shiny, I think I prefer the more tactile and sensuous movement of dry glove on a lube-free derrière. Now that is something to suffer the punishment horse for.

The Art of DFP

Mistress Maggie had declared today as a relaxing day that we were both to enjoy; a temporary amnesty from the normal rigours of my training; a day without pain or punishment; no electrical ‘encouragements’; no trips to Maggie's new whipping horse; a day where her slave would be allowed to touch her latex clad figure, in fact a day for Dressing For Pleasure. I even avoided a kick up the bum that Mistress had threatened me with for a cheeky remark in one of my mails, but I suspect that particular comment will act as a reminder to my owner for next time. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned that?

Had I died and gone to heaven? It sounded too good to be true and as the session progressed there were the odd discretionary diversions orchestrated by Maggie, but overall I was one ecstatically happy, albeit rather warm at times, rubber plaything for the most wonderful Mistress a slave could imagine.

It was a cold dank day when I arrived and Mistress had thoughtfully deployed two room heaters in her Playroom. On this one occasion I was invited to strip off my clothes and change into my socks, gloves and leather slave collar in the presence of Mistress and in the Playroom warmth. I have absolutely no inhibitions at anything Mistress requires me to do, and why would I? I felt relaxed and warm as I changed as instructed, although somewhat embarrassed as my cock stood quickly to attention the moment I glimpsed my owner, she appeared so serene in her black hooded latex robe and long leather boots, relaxing on her throne in the corner. I know her slave should be able to control that reaction, but short of chopping off my balls, which is perhaps another comment I should not make, Mistress will always generate that response, as she is the most sensual person I have ever met.

Back to the DFP. I was sent to the Bathroom to deposit my outer clothes out of the way. I didn't linger as it was just a tad chilly as I quickly checked my collar, made sure everything was OK and returned to knock on the door and wait, as I have been trained to do when entering any room containing my Mistress.

Ah, those long leather boots again. Mistress pointed to the tops and said the boots were very dirty after my last pitiful attempt and how I must do a better job of cleaning by generating much more saliva this time to lift off the dirt. That was divine torture, because as my licks approached the top of the boots I discovered that Mistress was once again naked under her latex gown. The rules dictate that I must restrict my licking to the footwear, but if I remember rightly, the Chambers rules do not mention that a slave cannot gaze in wonderment at Mistresses nakedness. So restricting my pleasure to the odd furtive glance I continued to work my tongue on the dirtiest patches near the tops of the boots. I am sure Mistress knew and teased her slave more by stretching the top of the boots to allow a proper clean and show off more of her bare flesh.

After the very long task of boot cleaning Maggie was happier with my performance today, and that’s when my dilemmas really started. I am not sure why because I have been a big rubber fan for a very long time, but when Mistress asked how I would like to dress for pleasure today I was totally flummoxed. I mean, expecting a slave to think about how a DFP session should progress was torture. The only item Maggie said I was to wear was a pair of tight latex pants with an anal sheath that I had never been introduced to before and the rest was my choice.

Amazing, the pants were actually plugged into the wall socket. Heated latex pants eh? Now that's a novelty. It turned out that Maggie had inserted a vibrating butt plug into the anal sheath and was making sure it was fully charged before allowing her slave to feel their delights. Dilemma one. 'Would you like something tight round your cock and balls slave?' If I said yes, would it show Mistress that I love that type of restraint? Was I being drawn into a spiders web for future sessions? Of course I said 'Yes please’, it means I get my Mistress playing with her property as she tightly attaches the leather cock and ball straps. A definite 'Yes please!'

Greased up, the anal invader was turned on and slipped easily home. A moment of amusement for Mistress when she needed a couple of probes to find the entry point and with each attempt, the pressure sensitive switch in the vibrator moved it to another program. Laughing, she giggled ‘OK, too bad. You'll have to put up with a random buzz program today slave.' It turned out to be three short bursts, one long one, then a momentary quiet time, a rather pleasant sensation that would gradually build the longer it remained in place.

More torturous questions about how I wanted to DFP. ’How about a catsuit, there are a few to choose from, one suit or two for you slave?' I have never experienced wearing both my lightweight and heavyweight suits together and thinking about it caused a delay. ‘Come on slave, call yourself a rubberist?’. Mistress knows I love rubber so the answer 'both please' was probably a fair certainty. 'Do you want a nice hood, slave?' Decisions decisions. Oh the torture. 'Yes please’, and so after this mental anguish I ended up in tight latex buzzing pants, two catsuits and a nice hood.

Unlike me, Mistress had already decided how she would like to be dressed and produced a shiny latex garment for herself. ‘Help me into my catsuit slave’. This request required absolutely no thought at all and was definitely a 'yes please' before Maggie had even finished asking. But before we got started Mistress had another thought. ‘Would you like that nice corset or a harness to keep you secure in all that latex slave?’ And then I realised, Mistress really does know me well and everything she ‘asked’ about was a foregone conclusion. I didn’t say no and so the corset was fitted round my midriff, nice and tight. I felt a little happier knowing I wasn’t really having to make decisions after all.

It was about now that the consequences of the very tight latex coverings were making themselves felt. As I helped Mistress into her catsuit, gently easing it up her smooth white back, and very carefully easing the zip from her derrière to the nape of her neck, I naturally felt a stirring lower down and that was it, only stirrings. The rubber coverings were so tight, I could have passed for a woman I had such a wonderfully tightly covered abdomen and groin, but an erection? - no chance whatsoever, there was definitely not enough space for one of those! In the past I have helped Mistress remove her suit at the end of a session but helping her dress for pleasure in her latex was on a totally different plane. Mistresses freshly licked thigh boots were zipped on top and I was allowed to polish her all over and enhance her shine.

With the application of the gas mask over my working hood and the aroma tube screwed in place, the last vestiges of communicating directly with my Mistress were removed, nor could I see my Mistress directly. Now inside my rubber world I had to rely on the lenses to provide my link to the real world outside. Maggie allowed a few puffs as a reward, I don’t think I had experienced this brand of aroma before but it was giving a nice relaxing feel to a surreal situation. Every now and then Maggie held her hand over the tube and smiled as the gas mask drew tightly against my air deprived face. Could our DFP get any better?

Well yes actually. Mistress decided that a few chains would be an appropriate addition to my DFP experience. And so it was. I was loosely chained to the bed and my hands chained to my corset, preventing me from reaching out to touch my wonderful latex Mistress. Try as might I could not reach her as she moved sensually around the bed. Then suddenly I couldn't even see the outside world through my goggles, as a blindfold was carefully placed over them and all contact was curtailed as Mistress left the room.

A short while later Mistress returned and she began releasing my right hand from its temporary chain, she sat down next to me and announced that she would be reading me a story from a 1980's ‘Dressing For Pleasure’ magazine. I wasn't really able to concentrate on the story being totally mesmerised by the very sound of Mistresses voice. I lay there TOTALLY enclosed in rubber and getting warmer and warmer inside my many layers of that wonderful material. I should have asked for the heaters to be turned down, but I didn't want to interrupt my Mistress and made the wrong choice by squirting another sniff of aroma to help me feel cooler, of course that did nothing other than making me more mesmerised. As the story continued I became hotter and hotter until I had to request Mistress to remove the mask to cool down.

Every cloud has a silver lining as they say, as unwittingly my request revealed a wonderful surprise. During my period of solitude Mistress had quietly changed into her hood with attached braided hair.

I was overwhelmed with how stunning she looked. If I had not asked for the mask off how long a delay would I have had before being allowed to see my exquisite Mistress?. Yet another fine DFP dilemma presented to her slave, and the silly thing was that once Maggie was aware I was hot she had absolutely no qualms about turning down the heaters.

It didn’t take long for me to once again feel comfortable in my latex layers, and although my need for cooling air had changed the ambiance of the session Mistress still had two final pleasures for her loyal slave. Maggie put on her long rubber mack and belted it tightly, then guided me into the latex bondage sack. I was strapped into the sack and laid back on the bed where Mistress gently cuddled her rubber slave and wrapped me tightly into bed. Unfortunately such hot pleasures cannot last forever and eventually the session had to end. As I stood to attention ready to have all the suits removed, Mistress allowed me to put my rubber covered arms round her and gently stroke her latex covered body. This delightful privilege would normally solicit a bulging growth down below but any reaction was suppressed totally by the multiple layers of tight latex. Perhaps, just perhaps, Mistress has found a way of controlling my unruly cock in her presence.

I always adore being in the presence of my rubber Goddess but today was a very happy and special one, having finally been permitted a lengthy touch of her latex clad figure. I received exactly what my owner had promised; Dressing in rubber for Pleasure. When I was younger, story times had never been this good and I hope we get to finish another episode of the magazine story Mistress Maggie was reading in the not too distant future.

Pumped Up and Raring to Go

If I had been tasked with concocting the perfect way to start 2018, I could not have surpassed what Mistress Maggie had planned for our first session of the new year. I knew it was going to be rubbery, very rubbery, I had gleaned that much from Maggie’s call up mail. I knew also that my Mistress would be in a very rubbery costume for the session so I arrived at the Chambers with a hop, skip and very happy jump as my finger jauntily pinged the front door bell. I had that feeling that this was going to be my best year ever.

True to her promise Maggie was very rubbery indeed; a long flowing black latex skirt, a tight basque covering her black latex covered torso, topped off with the wonderful halo of jet black hair that highlights her beautiful face. A song from Tommy briefly came to mind ‘Got a feeling 2018 is going to be a good year’. Apologies to The Who for slightly plagiarizing their title, but the sentiments fit well with the circumstances.

Maggie asked me to sit down on the latex bed and we talked about my training so far in a manner which epitomises how kind my owner really is. She guided the conversation towards asking for my thoughts on how my training was progressing? Was I happy with the direction we took in sessions? Was there anything I wished to be included in my training? . . . All questions asking her slave for feedback on my owners performance. As I gazed across the Playroom where Mistress was seated elegantly on her throne, I couldn’t think of anything constructive to say apart from, ‘Yes I am very happy with no concerns as to where 2018 and beyond may take us, and no I cannot think how to improve the already perfect sessions you create for your slave’, before making a stammered apology for abdicating responsibility which I know must place a huge burden on my owner. But I really don’t want anything to change. ‘More of the same please,’ I rather lamely quipped.

Our chat was drawn to a close and it was back to a new year of renewed training. I was dispatched to the bathroom to divest all my clothes and return wearing my black latex socks and gloves and of course my slave collar. Mistress was wearing long, very long leather boots under her skirt and it was heaven starting at the tip of her toes and licking all the way up past her superb calves, upwards over her knees and slowly upwards over those stunning thighs. Were these boots ever going to stop? Of course and I am well trained not to stray past the footwear so I restarted on the other boot, offering it the same amount of devotion.

Mistress let me know that she planned to have me in three layers of latex and without any ado I was ordered into my black heavyweight catsuit which had been nicely warming on the bed. With Maggie’s help I was soon covered in the first layer, but I had been given no hint of the form the other two rubber layers would take. Mistress always likes me to be well groomed, and the same applies when I am in my latex and once dressed I am to be polished or dusted. As soon as Mistress had finished with her duster a second catsuit was brought down from a hanger, its chlorinated surface was so slippery that I could just slide it on without much assistance. Well I had been promised rubbery, and was now enclosed in two glorious layers and anxiously waiting for the third one to appear, but when it did not come I suspected I must have misheard my Mistress.

Perhaps the third layer was the EO19 gas mask that I was then secured inside, with its heavy rubber smell filling my nostrils I was led through to the Clinic and securely strapped down on the couch. Maggie disappeared returning a little later with one of her catheter kits. The gloves went on and a large plastic drape unwrapped ready to be secured to my rubber suit. My cock felt quite cool being exposed through the centre hole of the drape and even cooler when Maggie started to clean it with her swabs of meths. At this point she would normally apply lubricant to my opening, but not today. Instead, Maggie then used her hands to gather up my genitals and after a period of rattling noises came the distinct sound of a ratchet device being attached behind them.

That’s when my first embarrassment of 2018 occurred, I just couldn’t control my cock. Mistress clearly made it known that she wanted a flaccid cock and with a couple of slaps told me to concentrate on making that happen, but try as I might I could not stop the pesky blighter waking up and waving at my Mistress. I tried to think of nothing; I tried counting sheep but in the end Maggie resorted to the tried and tested method of plonking a bag of frozen ice cubes on the area. Even that was only partially successful and Maggie still struggled to attach the second part of her chastity cage, until finally its lock closed around my cock and balls.

With a sigh of relief and triumph it was on to the next part of her plan, installation of the catheter. Bearing in mind I could not see the extent of my cock confinement, I wondered why it took my owner longer than normal to insert the catheter, but at last I could feel it passing painlessly down my urethra and its internal balloon pumped up. Maggie is now a real expert in this little operation and always maintains her very high hygiene standards with a proper sterile field.

Once the capture and catheterisation of my cock was completed, a pair of kegel balls were dangled in front of my gas mask lenses. ‘These will be inserted down below’ , said Mistress. My red butt plug was brought out and the kegels inserted in to my vacated backdoor hole.

My training has taught me that wherever there are kegels there will always be electric sensations, so no surprise that Mistress was soon making her slaves hips move to her
chosen pulsing rhythm, or ‘dance music’ as Mistress called it. A pleasurable predicament as well, because the more you move the more the balls jiggle and just add to the stimulation, or just until Maggie decides to add a sadistic twist to her actions.

It was at this point I made what I thought was an innocent reference to my total acceptance of Mistresses actions. The lead in conversation explains.

Mistress - 'Do you want to pee slave?’
slave -  ‘No thank you Mistress’
Mistress - ‘No thank you. Ah, you can still be polite even when I am punishing you can’t you?
slave - ‘Are you punishing me Mistress?...

I was trying to convey I accept anything and everything she wishes, so how could it be punishment?

That was the most stupid response I could have made, because the electrics were quickly ramped up from 24 to 48 and THEN I was in no doubt at all that I was being punished. Mistress laughed. My ass was on fire, my hips dancing wildly and I was singing out in pain, vowing once more not to make stupid quips when being trained. If Mistress says she is punishing you, just accept it! The raised electrics had played havoc with the caged cock, I could feel the tight restraints of the steel holding in what was trying to be a growing erection. How come a high voltage experience results in a raging erection?

Mistress warned me that the clinic was about to get very noisy as she plugged something into the shoulder of my catsuit. Ah! I was wearing her new inflatable suit and that was soon confirmed as a very noisy pump leapt into life right next to my left ear. It then dawned on me that I had been enclosed in three layers of latex all along and not just two as I had believed, and thank goodness for the E019 gas mask, the thick rubber of the mask toned down the buzz to a pleasant hum. As my shoulders gradually began to bulk out, Maggie eased the tight restraining bands to allow more air to circulate and before long I was able to feel a swelling round my stomach; not tight but sufficient for me to run my rubber covered hands over a larger than normal gut.

It was time to move back to the Playroom, the restraints had been unbuckled I was to carefully alight from the White Room couch. Reaching just a little too far with my leg to make contact with the floor, I suffered the most agonising cramps in my left leg. It made level 48 feel like being tickled. Fortunately, Mistress took immediate remedial action and massaged the calf gently until the cramps subsided, insistent that she would not proceed until I promised that I was fit to continue. Maggie is sadistic at times but definitely not a complete sadist; thoughtful and kind spring to mind and it certainly reinforces why I am devoted to my owner.

Maggie’s orders determined that the electrics, which were now thankfully reduced to a more normal level 21, would remain pulsing and the plugged catheter and cock cage were there ‘permanently’ as we traversed the short distance between the White Room and Playroom.

Not content that my lower appendage was now rendered useless and incapable of being pumped up any further, more inflation was required by Mistress. The pump was plugged in again and the catsuit inflated to a much larger size, applying pressure to all parts of her rubber slave. The matching inflatable hood and mittens followed rendering me a balloon man, I was left to acclimatise myself to my new inflated predicament, unable to touch anything with my round ball hands, unable to move freely with my round ball body and my senses deprived by my round ball head.

I have experienced this rather pleasant latex hood previously, at lower pressures it has stayed in place without too much fuss, Maggie's plans today necessitated fixing my slave collar tightly over the hoods neck band to keep it securely in place, even so, with the great pressure applied, the hood eyes were eventually pointing skywards and the breathing tube required a very firm grip between my teeth. It is possible that an attachment similar to a divers mouthpiece may prove beneficial and I will mention this to my owner.

I was lightly strapped to the cell bars and Mistress amused herself with her little game of ‘inflate and frustrate’. Armed with her hitachi vibrator my imprisoned cock was at her mercy. Talk about frustrated. My sausage literally took on the shape of a sausage in a far too tight skin and the catheter just hung there. I have come to the conclusion that Mistress Maggie is an expert in frustrating her slaves. Another of her endearing qualities.

Once we had deflated all the inflatables, removed all the rubber and … well, that was it. As an act of obedience and submission I was sent home with instructions to keep the catheter and cage on until Monday. Now that was a thrill to leave the Chambers in this state, I loved the concept and was resolved to do exactly as asked. Unfortunately, after a fitful nights sleep I awoke in the early hours of Saturday, having dreamed the most deliciously erotic dreams about my Mistress, with what would have been a super hard and large cock, wanting a pee and desperate for relief from the continuous compression. I succumbed, and at about 06:30 used the keys to free the cage and the syringe that Mistress had loaned me for emergencies to deflate the catheter.

I have already informed Mistress Maggie of my failure and we agree long term caging is probably not our scene and after the excruciating agony of a really compressed cock I take my hat off to those who report that they spend weeks stuck in chastity. The cage was one I had not worn before and unlike the other devices I have tried, its ratchet tightly round my balls made it immovable without the keys. I must admit to regretting having to remove both items as it provided a real sense of long-term ownership. I know, I am a really lucky slave and a Happy New Year to everyone.

The Twelve Ways of Mistress

🎄 Mistress Invites you to her Pantomime of Pervery 🎄

for adults only

Expect laughter, music, spectacle and lots of personal participation during this fun filled festive feast of a show.

Relive the adventures of Mistresses slave in training as she takes this traditional Christmas tune and distorts it almost beyond recognition. 

⬳⟿

The above extract from my calling mail gave me the distinct impression that Mistress Maggie was in festive mood and that I would be taking part in some Christmas entertainment. I arrived outside the Chambers with a spring in my step, a smile on my face, a bottle in hand for my Mistress and her husband, and ready for anything. Oh! I forgot, I was also carrying my perv bag complete with my red catsuit, black accessories and freshly polished black Wellington boots - just as instructed. I had a strong suspicion that once again I was to become a Christmas Santa Claus for my Owners amusement.

Mistresses thrill seeking show began as soon as I knelt at her feet to lick and worship her boots. There I was, innocently licking her red thigh high boots, up and down, long and slow and over her knee towards her glorious leather covered thighs, when I think I caught a glimpse of a naked Mistress underneath her latex skating skirt. Actually I wasn’t mistaken, but I know the rules and knew my job and so continued to concentrate on the cleaning rather than stare at my beautiful Mistress. It can be a hard and risky job being Mistress’ boot cleaner!

As expected I was soon inserted into the red catsuit and looking like Santa. Well, kind of like Santa, only I had to wear a gas mask instead of a sack. Maggie announced that her session plans would be presented to the tune of a well known carol, then retrieving her hymn sheet and singing to the tune of ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’ she outlined the session. I was asked to confirm understanding and acceptance of the actions in each of the verses, which was easy of course, as I have solemnly promised to willingly do whatever Mistress asks (or sings), immediately and without question. Mistress picked up her iPod and selected some easy music to get started . . .

And so to the Christmas Party.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas my Mistress Planned for me:

12
Bouts of Spanking
OTK, in the lap of my Mistress. Who could ask for anything more? Plimsolls, slippers, paddles, hand slaps and hairbrushes all left their own rosy glow.





11
Pounds of Ball Weights Dangling
That is a lot of excess weight for a slave to carry between his legs but I suppose Santa should know how to handle big loads. Once acclimatised to the weight, I was led off to tour the Chambers with weight dangling merrily below. Back in the Playroom, Mistress partook in a glass of water.




10

Minutes of Dancing
With the music turned up I was swinging my ass and gas mask hose to a raunchy Madonna song. There is only one person who oozes more raw eroticism than Madge and I am owned by her. Oh yes, and Mistress took a sip of water.






9
Tails a Flogging
Amazing how tight my red catsuit can be across the buttocks when I am sticking my arse out further, inviting my Mistress to enjoy herself more with her cat o’ nine tails. After the whip, Mistress took another sip.






8
Electrodes Pulsing
Cleverly placed around my groin and stomach to produce really unusual and frustrating ripple sensations. Nothing I can do when my hands are tied up and Mistress is busy drinking more water.






7
Crooked Cane Strokes
I counted eight. Maggie said the extra one was deserved because I wriggled. No wonder I wriggled with a senior crooked cane playing on an already warmed up landscape. Mistress kept me over the whipping horse and drank a full glass of water.






6
Inch of her Strap-On
Hehe! and a vibrating one as well. Mistress must have been parched and had another sip of her water.






5
More Anal Toys
Taking advantage of my widened opening I was invaded and pumped up with an inflatable dildo. Quickly followed by the manhandler, most of a gloved hand, the powerful vibes of the Hitachi wand, finishing with the steel anal hook that Mistress so kindly attached to the overhead gantry. With me nicely hitched up out of the way Mistress began drinking, again!






4

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Horse Rides Round the Room
Not my finest event. The wonky knees restricted the horsing around to a walk round the track. Even then I fell at the start of the third furlong. Horse riding was never my strong point and I think I disappointed my Mistress. What’s that phrase? - you can lead a horse to water but Mistress drinks it all up?






3
Suffocation Bags
My Santa decorated head was captured inside three poly bags for some very noisy plastic breath control. The only thing wrong with three bags together, apart from not being able to breathe of course, was not being able to feel the Christmas kiss that Mistress gave me through the three layers. I could only watch her luscious warm lips as they approached, whilst gasping hard and dreaming of their touch. I envied Mistresses water glass as she took a few more sips.






2
Kicks up the Bum
I received quite a few more than two kicks up the rear, the important thing was that Maggie did seem to be enjoying it. ‘I didn’t put the boots on for nothing slave’. Perhaps she had a bad experience with Santa when she was younger? Or more likely she just fancied kicking the crap out of a very willing slaves backside. Anyway, who’s counting?




and



A Belly Full of Maggie’s Fine Pee
After all that water intake, quite a lot had to flow out. I was really fortunate that Maggie allowed me to be one of the first users of her new toilet box; a stunning piece of equipment. With my head nestled inside the latex toilet pan one thirst quenching stream of very fresh, warm, mulled Maggie wine was eagerly consumed by her slave. Oops! I did manage to get a little drop of wine on the beard, but hopefully I think I got away with it!

*  *  *

Today I was really privileged to be part of a well planned and well executed celebration of 133 previous sessions with my Mistress. The amount that she managed to seamlessly cram into the time available was amazing. The Christmassy session contained many of my 'favourites’, some of my owners favourites I hope, plus some new experiences like the new toilet and the 11lb ball weight. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

This blog is the 100th I have published about my slave escapades, and without the help of my owner, Mistress and friend I would not have been able to enjoy life as I do now. I will also thank Maggie's husband John for being patient, because I know I am demanding of Maggie's time, and finally;

I would like to wish everyone who has read my blogs a very Merry Christmas and a happy 2018. I hope you have been able to have as happy a 2017 as Mistress Maggie has provided for me.