North West Crop Failure

Mistress Maggie had sent me a note making it absolutely clear what joys would greet her slave during this session. ‘Your bewitching Mistress will have you bound within a bag of gold and feeling the touches of her brand new crop’.

I knew Mistress had been working on a major latex production and that it was a gold coloured rubber bondage sack, but we hadn't yet been introduced. I was really looking forward to being allowed to wear her latest creation and today would be my lucky day. The brand new crop? Obvious. I always love being guinea pig for any of Mistresses new toys, even a simple crop. If wielding a new implement on her slaves flesh gives Maggie pleasure, then I am certain I could derive pleasure from receiving her gift. I got that part quite wrong!

I don't know what went wrong with my timing, I was probably too keen to see my Mistress, but the five minute walk from the car park was managed in just a shade over three and I arrived at the chambers early. Maggie greeted me in her long red PVC boots, a black and red latex leotard, a smack across my face and a stern telling off. ‘You're two minutes early slave. I was in the middle of a cup of coffee and have barely had time to read my e-mails’.

I hoped that would be the end of the repercussions for my my poor time keeping but I really should have known better. Despite my ears still ringing from their recent boxing I could just manage to focus on the superbly formed derrière undulating just in front of my eager eyes as I followed my Mistress upstairs to the Playroom. The territory in front of my eyes is forbidden but I can still dream.

Today I returned a pair of Maggie’s used pants, a very sexy lacy pair that she had loaned to me to give me comfort at home. I felt quite proud of how I had managed to launder them; non-biological washing liquid to avoid a reaction round Mistresses delicate bits and a gentle softener to give them that fragrant scent, though nothing quite as fragrant as the ‘eau de Maggie’ that had drifted in my direction each time I held them. Pride comes before a fall and once more I had been unable to iron the little pink bow at their front, it’s not something I have practised in the past but I have a feeling, 24 feelings to be precise, that I MUST learn to iron it if Maggie is to continue allowing me the panty privilege.

After an all too short spell of boot worship, Maggie adhered to her session guidance and picked up her crop. The die was cast. 12 strokes for being early and 24 strokes for my laundry failure. Stripped down to my latex shorts I was ordered over the spanking stool and this time I wished Maggie had strapped me down. Even through my latex shorts the cropping started to hurt like hell. Concurrent sentences might have been more manageable for me, but no, I received consecutive punishments; 36 strokes in total and all predominantly to my right cheek. I was dancing around on the bench and begging for clemency by the time the final blow landed.

Things got a little less painful for a while. I was to be Maggie's pet pooch and this role I gladly sank my whole heart and soul into. Dressed in my thick latex suit complete with my doggy harness, butt plug and tail to wag, Maggie transformed me into her pet hound. This really was fun and, as I said, I got fully into the mindset of a big, black, boisterous retriever. For those of you who are fortunate to receive similar treatment, the leather muzzle is very comfortable to wear but it does somewhat restrict the air supply, so if you are bounding around like a puppy then expect a little breathlessness.

As an added part of the transformation, Maggie had the foresight to tape and splint two fingers on each hand together to make digging in her flower garden that little bit more taxing. I reiterate, Maggie plans the sessions meticulously. I scampered around the room fetching the ring that my owner tossed in various directions. I played with it. I hid it temporarily from my owner and even tossed it in the air as I padded round on all fours, then to reinforce my pet training I was taken for a walk on a lead. It was then that I momentarily returned to normality as I passed the crop that I’d been beaten with lying on the landing floor. Maggie had enjoyed herself so much cropping her slaves backside that the crop had broken. Poetic justice I thought before being brought to heel on the leash and returning once more to the obedient pet dog.

When we finished our walk I was rewarded for being a good dog by being sent to the garden area to find and dig up my bone. Not easy with the taped up paws but I set about digging up the soil like a good dog, and in my joy at being Maggie's pet pooch and finding my orange bone I completely missed what the plants were that I was disturbing in my haste. Oh the joys of being a happy pet.

I could easily have laid down at my Mistresses feet for the remainder of the afternoon, but Maggie had other plans and true to her promise she brought out the gold latex body bag. It’s amazing how quickly a slave can be transformed from a boisterous black retriever into the King of Maggieland, but I did look rather like royalty after she had finished with me. Firstly I was fitted into the anatomically correct and most comfortable of masks. My head became an accurate latex head complete with sticky out ears. I got the impression that Mistress also likes the mask as she spent a while making sure it was smooth and all the right bits inserted into the correct mouldings before I was gently inserted into the most luxurious gold latex body bag. Maggie went on to reinforce who the boss was by securely chaining me inside the bag, out of harms way. So I did end up laid down at her feet after all.
Not just one or two but almost the whole of Maggie's chain store was deployed in her bondage. Chains round middle, legs arms, feet, in fact anywhere Maggie wanted to see a chain, and a series of padlocks held me inescapably secure. At least Houdini might have escaped their caress but I certainly couldn't. I actually feel really secure in this totally helpless state. I know I am totally dependant on my Mistress and that is exactly how I like it. I probably shouldn't say this but I was really comfortable inside this most luxurious of sacks and was quite relaxed when Mistress left me in this position for a while. I had time to admire the excellent workmanship that Maggie had put into this bodybag and thought of all the other very fortunate slaves who would benefit from its pleasant embrace.

I also had time to better admire some of the new decorations that adorned the refurbished Playroom; the stunning ceiling rose that has also received the gold treatment, the new window drapes, and ...  My thoughts were interrupted when Mistress returned and removed my rather nice hood, a pillow with a plastic covering was slid behind my head and standing above me with legs apart she aimed a stream of fine wine into my open mouth. I didn't do too well with my pee catching making Maggie warn me that unless I improve my performance she would water her plants with her golden fluid instead. I was made to watch as a plant was placed alongside me and Maggie commenced watering it with my drink. I had not realised earlier but I recognised the species now; urtica dioica. The crop being watered by Mistress was a nice, young and very potent nettle plant and I never spotted that coming as I dug up my bone!. What a waste of a good brew just to water a damn nettle plant.

The ‘touches of a brand new crop’ as mentioned in Maggie’s calling mail was about to make more sense. Ah nettling time. I had totally forgotten about the annual nettle ceremonies over the past few years and yet another decidedly devious plan had been developed by Mistress to help me enjoy the pleasures of those nasty little blighters.

Now dressed in my more typical slave attire of my black rubber catsuit, a chain was passed around my waist and attached to the overhead gantry. As the gantry was raised so my back was arched off the floor I was free to wobble in my semi-suspended state. Worse was to come. The intention was to attach nipple clamps and then sprigs of nettles to the other end of the securing rope, just at the height that the young plants would caress my nipples.

Oh I do wish my nipples were more compliant. They were powerful clamps but still kept slipping off as I swung there. Several times Maggie reattached the clamps, each time a bit tighter intensifying the pain in my nipples. In the end Maggie devised a simpler solution, lashing the nettle sprigs from a dangling cord and letting them sway back and forth, stinging my pained buds as I writhed on the supporting chain. An unforgiving predicament indeed!

However strange it may sound, the pain of the recently departed nipple clamps, the stinging of the recently watered nettles and the sprig that Maggie removed from the plant to start caressing my cock and balls with had an alarming effect. It was not long before Mistress used her Hitachi wand, making me writhe even more and forcing me to ejaculate. I had no control and this time there was no embarrassment. Maggie wanted this outcome and what Maggie wants Maggie gets; always.

I had both very painful and very pleasurable outcomes from the two types of crops I received from Mistress Maggie today, and the amusement when the new crop lost its head helped ameliorate a bit of the pain it had inflicted. I loved almost every minute and even my right buttock appeared to be smiling when I last looked in the mirror!

Next Time . . .

Next time Mistress Maggie presents such an exciting and scary opportunity I hope I am able to grasp it with both hands; metaphorically grasp it, as will become apparent later in my report. But to start with I was greeted by my Mistress in a fantastic diaphanous latex outfit, teamed with a most prominent glass dildo which was twinkling in my direction. Beneath the clear invader were the long, very long white boots that climb all the way up those statuesque legs, almost, but not quite, to the base of her glass sparkler.

It was my birthday so I had decided to bring a surprise to the party; finally plucking up the courage to wear my latex clothes with no covering coat this time, I made my way to the Chambers. The day was warm, and despite very heavy traffic and one or two passing pedestrians no one appeared interested in a happy chappy with a slave collar sauntering down the road like a rubber pervert, carrying my session bag and a big smile. I really needn’t have been worried, though I probably won’t repeat such a show as I think Maggie may have been a little concerned about attracting attention on her doorstep. Even so my surprise made her smile and she had a good feel at my warm latex.

I always get that familiar buzz as I follow the most beautiful derrière up the stairs to The Playroom. Today Maggie’s bottom was framed by the neat rows of ruffles that embellished her skimpy rubber shorts. Once upstairs I was told to remove my latex, the only item of rubber I was allowed were my knee length stockings, nothing else. Not the catsuit or even the gloves, although I was temporarily allowed to keep my shirt. Why? - because Maggie declared that today was going to be plastic fantastic.

I used to be drawn primarily to latex until Mistress helped me realise that it is her that is the aphrodisiac and not the material, though I must admit to still having a preference for Mistress in all her various latex garments.

Maggie attempted a new method of footwear worship, seated down in front of her throne I was instructed to shuffle backwards into the V of her legs. What a start! With the warmth of my Mistress in the nape of my neck, stroking my hair in a wonderful manner, I could have relaxed there all day. The only drawback was that with Maggie's thighs clamped round her slave I was unable to turn my head far enough to do justice to my position. Unfortunately the delight had to end all too quickly and I was instructed to move to the more conventional position and to proceed with the boot worship, which I duly attended to as my Mistress wished.

Kneeling upright again, I barely had time to lick my lips before the sound of crinkling plastic came from a freshly opened bag and my head was soon enclosed inside. There is nothing like a good bagging to make you feel glad to be alive, and I had the added bonus of being able to gaze adoringly at my captor with her sparkling glass dildo, which seemed to have forgotten which bit of anatomy it was intended for and took the liberty of poking me in the eye!

More plastic, this time containing a small celebratory birthday tipple poured from a rather nice bottle of red. We then relaxed with a toast and enjoyed the wine. I have had 6 birthdays now in the company of my Mistress; that is 6 years where I have really felt alive and I wished for the next 6 years in heaven and the next 6 . . .

Maggie roped me to the horse very lightly and mounted me with the glass dildo, gently inserted and accompanied with a soft whisper of ‘happy birthday slave’ I was being ridden to heaven. There was no necessity for the ropes, I would willingly have remained prone, but I do feel more owned by Mistress when I am wearing restraints, particularly whilst being mounted. Most enjoyable.

Feeling a little underdressed in only my birthday suit and latex stockings we adjourned to the White Room, where the room had already been prepared for the plastic fantastic. Spread out on the couch was the thick plastic body bag that I have lovingly occupied in the past, and that very nice clear plastic hood with the two breathing holes.

Once comfortably fitted and secured inside the hood I climbed aboard and was sealed and strapped into my new home for the rest of the afternoon. I love that hood. It restricts breathing but allows sufficient air supply, every breath is worth it if only for its distinctive plastic bouquet, more importantly I get a very clear vision of my Mistress as she moves around the Clinic preparing my next pleasurable experience.

Mistress set up a breathing circuit for her patient and held an anaesthetic mask over my mouth, the aroma accompanied by sweet verbal encouragement from Maggie sent me into a deep relaxed state. She removed my butt plug replacing it with a Bardex enema pump . . . Ah, an enema was coming my way. ‘Are you allergic to peppermint slave?’ she asked and I confirmed that I wasn’t. Mistress then mixed up a solution and filled up a huge syringe making sure that its contents were infused right where the sun don’t shine.

I was feeling quite warm and grateful of the peppermint’s cooling properties, a little of the cordial had trickled down my cheeks and collected in a cool pool at the base of my spine. It certainly wasn’t going anywhere in the watertight plastic body bag and the liquid soon warmed as my treatments progressed.

I could have stayed all afternoon like that; breathing in and out carefully and gazing at my beautiful Mistress as she liberally applied cocoa butter on all of her slaves available body parts, rubbing it in with her warm hands. Maggie zipped up the bodybag to seal everything in, flicked the room heater up to high and started playing her industrial strength hair dryer all over my plastic covered torso. Today had just climbed quite a few degrees warmer.

Encouraged by the results of the warming on her subject, Maggie began to stir the mix with her violet wand, making sparks jump from my saturated skin. I think other forms of electrical 'enjoyment' for her simmering pot were considered but she opted for the wand as a simple, safe, sensible and sane way of bringing her slave closer to the boil.

Unfortunately, I had to lose the plastic hood because the aroma mask and breathing holes just wouldn't play together, so staying with the plastic theme Maggie simply bound my head with clear plastic bondage tape with a loose flap across the mouth. Now that worked a treat and it allowed comfortable use of the anaesthetic mask while administering gradual doses of aroma. The mask was obviously attached to a rebreather bag because when Maggie told me to ‘take deep breaths slave’ I could hear the breathy noises as I breathed deeply.

So long as you breath in and out quite slowly, the rebreather allows sufficient air to keep you going indefinitely, yet it is torture of the most delicious kind. You have to concentrate on breathing while Mistress goes about her other tasks that certainly do not aid concentration. Maggie has trained her slave well and I had no problem maintaining a steady rhythm despite more heat, more massaging and more peppermint.

Mistress covered me up in an extra layer of green plastic now and began heating it up with her hairdryer. By now I’d had another two huge syringe fulls of the peppermint enema and the aromas were having a wonderfully calming and relaxing effect. I realised then what Mistress meant in her somewhat ambiguous calling email - 'I thought I might take you for a swim for your birthday. Your rubber Mistress will be keeping an eye on you as you float away and manage the extra water at the deep end.' 

Despite the continuous efforts to really heat me up, with a combination of the cooling peppermint, soothing body butter and relaxing aromas, I felt absolutely wonderful. Too lazy to actually swim anywhere, but more than happy to float in all the juices.

Operation time, and I really didn't feel the staples being punched into my groin area. I wont say cock and balls because by the time my Mistress had finished with them they had ceased to exist.

Picking up another syringe she injected a good dose of lubricating jelly behind the staples and into the operation area. Mistress was dissatisfied with her stapler, it had only dispensed a few staples before it went faulty, she was genuinely disappointed and threatened to send it back. I know that when they work properly she finds a stapler far more user friendly than the sutures she previously used.

Oh well, that's progress and Maggie likes to keep abreast of all new methods of entertaining her slaves. Speaking of which, Maggie did stand very close and began stroking my pinioned cock, baring those wonderful breasts to taunt me with their beauty. That really was torture. How do you normally react when such a wonderful vista is presented? I am a hot blooded male and I would normally start to get an erection. Erection with what and where was it going? So I tried my hardest to look, admire and stay comfortable within the staples.

As we were coming to a close Maggie asked if I wanted to remove the staples myself. Imagine, making my way home wearing my nice tight pair of latex briefs covering what used to be my manhood. That thought is so exciting yet so disconcerting. Would it hurt once the aroma had worn off? What would happen when I received the photos with the staples still in situ? How do I pee? Would I be able to walk and drive home because I didn't fancy having to remove the staple half way home! I opted for the cowards way out and asked Mistress to remove them. At the time, that was a good move with no pain or discomfort, but I am seriously contemplating a different decision next time Mistress Maggie staples up her cock and balls. Next time. . . .

Re-defining Excruciating!

It can never be said that Mistress Maggie only offers a limited curriculum to the students training in her Chambers. Sessions are definitely not only about gratuitous violence, in fact there can be real educational content to some of the training.

Just as Shakespeare invented and redefined many words in the English language, so Maggie assists her students in a deeper and fuller understanding of those fine words that the bard writ.

Today I was instructed to bring my red latex kit bag, which contains all of the red latex items that I have purchased over the years and Maggie then chooses which items I should wear whilst I am in her presence. At the Chambers front door Maggie greeted me in her tight and shiny black latex catsuit, the door was barely closed before a leash was hooked onto my slave collar and I was led upstairs with my kitbag in tow.

I had expected to be cat-suited for whatever lesson Mistress had planned for today, however, on this occasion Mistress specifically asked about my red shorts. At that point I should have known something unusual was planned, as her eyes lit up at the mention that I was already wearing them and I was instructed to strip down to them there and then. Mistress continued, her smile getting bigger and more attractive as she examined her rather portly student. I was then sent off to the bathroom still wearing the shorts, with orders to don stockings and gloves and there would be no red catsuit required today.

In the last session I recorded that Mistresses stiletto heels were 'excruciating' when sunk into my nipples, and Maggie wanted to help me get a fuller and more accurate understanding of the meaning of the word, allowing me to better express more of my feelings. Leather wrist straps were buckled on so I could be hung from the overhead gantry and my legs eased apart on a robust spreader bar and, strangely, I had a broom handle tightly roped across my mouth, producing a most effective gag and as was about to be revealed, something good and hard to bite down on when needed.

Mistress smiled that deliciously sweet smile, often a precursor that something bad was about to happen. She retrieved her red leather bull-whip and began to swirl it, setting it in motion before systematically setting about my nipples and chest with its stinging, cracking, accuracy. Only now did I start to understand what the deeper meaning of excruciating was.

I have never felt so much pain as when she wielded that whip and could not help myself writhing in my shackles with every stroke. In fact, Maggie had to order me to ‘stand still slave’ as with all my jiggling she feared that my restraints might become detached from the gantry. I suffered dozens of excruciating strikes across both of my nipples, while many more fell slightly wide of their intended target due to my consistent writhing.

My mind was screaming and I think I knew exactly what lessons Mistress was trying to teach: Honesty, accuracy and perhaps that Mistress always knows whats best for her subjects. Accuracy because Mistress needs to know exactly what pain she is generating at or near that 'threshold' and thus how much further she can push her student in the quest for perfection, and honesty because it is pointless trying to overplay the effect that elements of my training are having in the hope of a slave gaining some sympathy from Mistress. That is not how it works; how it should work, how I need it to work and certainly against Chambers Rule  1 - The slave must always be honest. . . On a much more basic level I knew I couldn't take much more of this pain and I just wished it could stop!

Then quite deliberately Mistress prepared her aim and I got the whip right across my cock and balls, to remind me to stay still, quickly followed by a kick from her high heeled boots. Luckily the stroke didn’t carry quite the same venom as those that had kissed my nipples, but enough warning to have me attempt to ‘stick that chest out’  for my Mistress and her next excruciating delivery. Mistress obviously had no need to have her slave in his red catsuit when she had a bullwhip to paint me red. As always, Mistress knows me well and Maggie knew I was now surely aware of the meaning of excruciating, at least for the next ten to twenty minutes anyway, where the meaning was to be reinforced. A classic teaching method of 'Tell, Show, Do, Repeat if necessary' and importantly, that I was genuinely approaching my limits.

Not content with a snivelling slave attempting to take bites from her broom stick because my chest was on fire, Mistress smiled and indicated it was time for a bit of fun with my balls. She handed me a rather large, extravagant looking electric device with a hole in it, and I was told that pushing my cock and balls through the hole would help take my mind off my nipples. What a choice. Burning balls as well as burning nipples and I have to admit feeling a little sorry for myself. On the other side of the coin, it was what Mistress wanted and that thought did make life easier to tolerate. I tried to attach the electro board but was unsuccessful, probably because I was still shaking, so plan B became the plan of the day.

We adjourned to the clinic where I was tightly strapped to the chair. There is just sufficient stretch in the straps to ensure that the one across my mouth stopped my lips from moving and kept my head absolutely still. I couldn't move my head at all and all I could do was stare at the ceiling as Mistress proceeded to rope my bits to her special bondage board, weave a few electrodes about my cock and start playing tunes on her electric organ.

Variety is the spice of life, or so Maggie encourages me to believe. In this instance the variety came in the form of a few different combinations of electrodes on her property, including cock confining metal ones and a bumper sized one stuck on my perineum, they all provided their own different sensations, but none that could remotely be described as excruciating.

Mistress normally tolerates me trying to stroke her bottom as she goes about her business but today. . . no chance. I think for the first time, my arms and hands were so securely strapped to the couch that they were rendered totally useless. However she did come in close, bending over me to seal my head in a thick, well-fitting gas mask that enables easy aroma delivery, and with the electro throbbing nicely in my groin I was soon feeling much much calmer.

Maggie indicated that she also had a natural source of medicine that needed to be inserted inside me. She lubricated her dildo invader with a large dollop of her spit and slowly introduced the medicine deeply into my bum as far as it would comfortably go. I feel so privileged to be able to receive the gift of any of her offerings in any orifices she chooses. To ensure I received the full benefits of the medicine, the dildo’s iron handle was placed between my thighs and tied there with rope. Maggie now had the joy of penetrating her slave at her pleasure with very little effort; hard, deep, fast or gentle, slow but still deep. It must have amused Maggie, what with my mouth strapped shut, cock and balls on-line and bum being lubricated by Mistresses juices . . . the things I do to keep Maggie happy . . . in reality that is anything and everything that she asks of me and I must admit I do love all the experiences.

My lesson in word meanings was not quite over yet though, my understanding of the word ’excruciating’ was about to be reinforced. Out came two very shiny instruments; two double pin-wheels, each attached to its own electric circuit. The tube they were brought out from had DANGER marked on it in red letters, a good sign that the contents could be frightful when used.

Fortunately, I still had the thick mask on, but even so I am sure quite a lot of noise emerged into the Clinic when Maggie rolled both pairs of pinwheels across my whipped nipples. After that, my nipples had received more than enough attention for one day and even the gentle touch of Maggie stroking them had me writhing and gasping for mercy.

And so with me finally educated in the meaning of excruciating the grand session finale arrived, and this time a real treat for her slave. Maggie connected her corrugated dildo hose to my gas mask, the dildo with the holes to allow some breaths, or at least until it is fully inserted inside your Mistress. As I gasped for breath I could hear Maggie gasping as well. I think that was quite a turn on for her, because each time my gas mask sucked onto my face because I had no air, Maggie arched her back and sighed. I can think of no better way to go than pleasuring my Mistress as I suck heavily inside her in a vain attempt to get air.

One of the objectives today was to help me better articulate the meaning of the word excruciating. I certainly need to change the comment from last times blog as in hindsight my nipples were only a little painful then. Today Mistress Maggie has provided me with a better understanding of the meaning of excruciating and I won’t be so reckless with its use in future.

A Slight Change of Plan

Mistress Maggie had given her clearest steer yet in the calling mail as to what was going to happen to her slave during this session.

'Your rubber Mistress has plans to escalate your training in order to harness the best performances from her slave.'

Not so much of a riddle this time and unusually I was able to interpret her words quite simply. I was to be placed in that stout body harness and hoisted off the ground to be hung like a side of beef and used by Mistress. I had had all night to imagine myself in this predicament and was quite ready for the experience as I rang the bell to the Chambers.

But first, the preliminaries. There are occasionally preliminaries and today Mistress wanted to discuss two things with me before I could engage in the obligatory worship of her footwear and the training ‘proper’.

The first needed me to have a steady hand to take a couple of photographs for Mistresses blog. Maggie wanted a photo of her modelling her satin bondage mitts and I found my hands shaking as I had to strap my Mistress inescapably into the mitts, fortunately I have had too much excellent training to even contemplate anything other than doing the job in hand, and a very good job with excellent results even though I say so myself.

The second preliminary was to recount my feelings and to let Mistress know of any side effects I had noticed following my previous session, when Mistress had performed my first bladder washout. No aches or pains; yes I could have taken more; yes it would have been interesting if the bladder was being filled from the top as well . . . er? - perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned that judging by the big grin it put on Maggie’s face. Perhaps I should learn to keep quiet and not open my big mouth unless instructed!

After these two extra taskettes I was ordered onto the floor on my back to clean Maggie's boots and also for Mistress to indulge in a little nipple teasing with her long stiletto heeled boots. For those who have not had the privilege of having spiky heels driven into their nipples, it can be truly excruciating. However, I was luckily placated by being allowed to wear a pair of her used panties, carefully arranged by Mistress over the parts of my face that were snivelling the most and something I haven’t been allowed for a while.

The panties weren't the only thing Mistress wanted me to wear on my head, once she had stepped down from my chest it was time to check my lungs with a prolonged spell of bagging, that really got me breathing hard on Mistress’ scent which resulted in a happy but breathless slave and a happy Mistress, as she certainly does love her breathplay. Panties and bagging in one go, what a start!

Installation into my catsuit was swift and as for my butt plug, well that went in like the proverbial rodent up a drain pipe. A well-oiled procedure and no awkwardness whatsoever. I knew some floor work was imminent as Mistress passed me the Playroom knee pads and instructed ‘put them on slave’, swiftly followed by a rubber GP-5 mask rigged for self-medication of the attached aroma reservoir.

Today I found the mask incredibly comfortable. After a count of three, the mask was pulled tightly across my face and adjusted until we were both satisfied that it was in the right position. And yes, it was exactly right and I think I could have worn it all day. It was of course helped by the relaxing effects of the aromas, but whatever the reasons I was content with my lot; a GP-5’d slave in my own little rubber world as Mistress ceremonially locked a chain around my ankle and chained me to the Playroom. I say ceremonially because wild, wild horses couldn't drag me away.

Maggie was flogging me at much less than her full power. With the medication, my head firmly on the carpet and music gently playing in the background I must admit to enjoying the experience and as Mistress proceeded, now using her dressage whip across my buttocks she stopped for a moment to say. ‘This whip always brings back fond memories of my fetish club days, because I always took it with me and it was so often needed’. A stout padded crop followed, a nine tailed whip and then a heavy leather flogger. I just relaxed and rode with the gentle stinging and thwacks that were raining down on my lower body.

With my backside and back gently warmed from the flogging Mistress moved the session along and produced the stout leather harness. I was a little surprised as I was expecting the suspension harness, but Maggie indicated that pulley system or not, she had changed her mind about lugging a huge 17 stone slave up towards the Playroom ceiling, so today she would be doing something a little lighter and I would be experiencing a little latex bed bondage.

Her chosen harness keeps the wearer quite rigid when tightly strapped, and before the wrist straps finally immobilized my arms by my side Maggie thought it would be fun if I were to dance a Highland jig and placed two dressage whips in a cross shape on the floor. I was instructed to ‘Dance slave or get the crops again’. It was actually fun and we both laughed as I commented that when my hands were finally strapped to my side I could entertain her with a Michael Flatley style of dancing. I did get my hands strapped in tight but fortunately wasn’t forced into performing an Irish jig. Maggie laughed and it was a delight to hear that sound again.

Lying immobile on the bed, Mistress started to fit me into the system mask. Last time I had difficulty accommodating the tight heavy hood, so on this occasion Maggie took much longer positioning it for the best fit, and not until I’d grunted that the mask was seated comfortably did she move onto the facial part. It never ceases to amaze me how adaptable and accomplished at problem solving my Mistress is. She has made a thin extension section for the front of the hood, an optional extension which allows extra room for slaves, who like me, have been blessed with a rather big nose. I lay there, helpless, sealed inside, just the situation a true rubber slave loves to be in. By now the aromas delivery bulb was out of reach, so once again I found myself safely under the total control of Mistress.

As Mistress played with my cock she told me that she was going to fuck me with her electric sound. A simple conductive loop was used to capture my cock and balls and the urethral electro sound was inserted. The e-stim was raised to level 40, deemed by Maggie to be an 'ideal'! sensation level for her urethral wand, and I can only say that as she worked her magic I was indeed fucked with the electric sound and at last allowed to orgasm. The system mask was far more comfortable on this occasion and I think Maggie was quite pleased that I had managed so long before wimping out.

It was an unexpected journey that Mistress had guided me through today. Not strange physically but more one where Mistress manipulated the expectations of her slave, reinforcing that she can make changes at any time and altering the advertised experience. Maggie had told me exactly what was to happen, suspension, and my mind was anticipating being hung out to dry and it changed into a totally different type of bondage. It is remarkable how Mistress altered the direction that she wanted her slave to travel as the session progressed, and knowing the thoroughness of her planning I would not be at all surprised if this ‘slight change of plan’ was fully planned and scripted. At the end of the day Mistress can and does do whatever she wants with her slave and her rules also apply. Rule 9 – Mistress may change her mind at any time and Rule 15 – The slave must be ready at all times.

Maggie’s unexpected ‘change of mind’ gave an unusual twist to an already excellent training program. The session turned out to be a much gentler one than I had anticipated and that was strangely refreshing, although I suspect it won’t be too long before I am hung up and swaying from her ceiling. And a final tip for any lucky slaves who are offered the use of knee pads, I would suggest making use of them. They can be a little cumbersome when being walked on all fours, but today the pads allowed me to comfortably kneel for a long time during my flogging without my knees causing me trouble. Mistress Maggie thinks of everything.

Bladder Wash

Not to be confused with Fucus Vesiculosus, or to give it its more normal title, bladder wrack. That is a seaweed with considerable health benefit, whereas Bladder Wash refers to the reverse engineering that Mistress Maggie was keen to try and which I had naturally volunteered for. It may sound a little perverse, but as Maggie's slave I get a real buzz from being able to assist with Maggie’s projects and do something in return for all the hard work that she puts into my training, while offering myself as Maggie's guinea pig always results in wonderful new experiences.

On this occasion, my first task was to attend to Mistresses red ankle boots, with their red cross medical insignia they are a perfect match for her red latex stockings, and a pretty sure sign that I would be venturing into her clinic today. Mistress said that it had been a while since she had worn her nurse boots and being a little neglected they were in need of some TLC.

As I lay on the carpet lovingly and eagerly cleaning the boots Maggie asked if I was prepared to receive another saline infusion. Not into my balls this time but direct into my catheterised bladder. She had undertaken all the research, established it is a routine medical procedure but couldn't find any accounts of how the patient was feeling. This aspect was what Maggie was particularly interested in and wanted a commentary of how the infusion was affecting her subject.

However, before adjourning to the clinic to have my catheter inserted, I had asked Maggie to help measure me for a new garment I am hoping to buy. For an all too short a while I stood to attention, stark naked and happy for my Mistress to put a tape round here, there and everywhere until all twenty-two measurements were accurately recorded. I was then helped into my plum coloured latex suit and led off down the corridor.

Mistress is an expert in catheterisation and quickly had one inserted and attached to the 500ml bag of saline hanging on her drip stand. Despite the number of successful inserts, Maggie meticulously follows her routine of creating a clean, sterile environment for all similar operations. I just lay there, tightly strapped to the couch watching the drip of the saline gradually finding its way down the catheter and into the receptacle that was my bladder. All the while I was reporting back that there was no discomfort, and only towards the end of the 500ml did I detect any change. Although I had visited the loo before the session had started, after half a litre I was beginning to feel like I had a full bladder again.

While the last few drips were bladder bound Mistress filled her time by lacing up a leather cock corset around my cock, then pulling those laces tight. Electrodes were added next around my exposed balls and the e-stim set at Program 7, level 20; a very acceptable setting that I am sure most slaves will find stimulating and not torturous. With a little laugh I detected some amusement from Mistress, brought on by the tightness of her clever corsetry. 'There slave, that will help retain the fluids already dammed by your catheter and the electrodes will provide a little stirring for the extra liquid I've just infused'. 

I couldn’t work out if Maggie was pleased with the results so far but she went on to massage my filled bladder quite extensively to see if that elicited any further reaction. Oh and I nearly forgot. Mistress had opened my nipple zips and paid a lot of attention to playing with my buds and boy did I get some attention. So much so I had to self administer several hefty doses of aroma that Maggie had thoughtfully rigged up to anaesthetise her patient.

By this time, the combination of nipple tweaking, electrics and full bladder were definitely having an effect and I had to report a sharp increase in libido, the fact that Maggie kept admiring and stroking her corseted cock only added to the sensation. It was all that I could manage to prevent an embarrassing leak round the tight catheter tube!

Clamped and satisfied that my full bladder wasn’t going to be emptied until Maggie was ready, we made our way back to the Playroom where Mistress fetched the PVC sheet and unfolded it in the centre of the floor. That generally means one thing: I am to receive a generous helping of Mistresses nectar. Ah the sheer pleasure at the thought of her gift… I was instructed to kneel head down and wait whilst Maggie undid my back zip and started the next scene.

I heard gaffer tape being stripped from the roll and the first piece was strategically taped to my bum, then the second and a third. It then dawned on me that I had seen a picture recently and Maggie must be trying to recreate the very artistic taping. Judging by the photo, Mistress created an anal masterpiece. I think the use of white tape was a brilliant decision as my stretched opening was highlighted to perfection.

Obviously she was still not finished with my fluid infusion. Mistress fetched her Shenis and used my asterisk shaped asshole as the target for its aim, promptly scoring bullseye with the whole contents of her bladder. I think I couldn’t achieve a high enough bum position for complete Shenis entry as I did spill quite a bit on the PVC, but that is what it was there for after all. An inflatable bung was duly stuffed up my part-filled bottom, sealing it against unauthorised discharge.

Well, I can’t say that I hadn’t been forewarned, Maggie had briefly mentioned water in the calling mail she had sent to me.

 ‘As fit for an Aquarian Mistress, it will be water water everywhere, but will there be any to drink?'

Indeed, there was water everywhere and I was now being instructed to drink it. As I eagerly sucked it up, filling my bladder in a more typical perverse method, Maggie allowed me to consume all the spillage.

Feedback after acting as guinea pig for Maggie’s reverse engineered catheter? - I loved the whole experience. I always relieve myself pre-session to avoid moaning about needing the loo, so 500ml was easily accommodated in my empty bladder. The extra fluid consumption from the sheet was starting to make its presence felt as the session drew to a close and a few more minutes for it to percolate through and I would have had a slightly uncomfortable bladder. The Shenis was a nice touch for enema delivery but due to its angle, not a lot ended up as enema. And I must say that it is a good job I try and keep my body hair-free, because when Mistress Maggie removed the white tape it certainly got rid of any hairs I’d missed. OUCH!

And finally, with the inflated plug up my arse, it does make my rear look a little like a daffodil. Most appropriate as spring is coming.