A Few More Steps . . .

Mistress Maggie had given no hint as to the content of the exciting and truly remarkable session I was about to experience. Perhaps Mistress was purposely creating tension for her slave, if so, her plan had worked. I was left pondering what might be in store and examining a few of the ‘off the cuff’ remarks I may have made to her, which often become reality thanks to Maggie’s remarkable insight into her slaves personality. One thing was absolutely certain though, after last time when I was a couple of minutes early and had accrued an additional 24 crop circles across my right buttock, I was going to be exactly on time.

I set my clock alarm to 14:29 and as I took the five minute walk towards The Chambers I thought of my Mistress whist repeatedly checking the time. With 20 seconds to go I pretended to be examining my phone, the sun was beating down as I dawdled along the pavement, sweltering in my new blue latex shirt that I’d been ordered to model for Mistress. Just as has happened before, no-one took any notice of this happy rubberised person, or even came close enough to detect the warm rubber smell exuding from my clothing. When my clock showed precisely 14:30 I rang the door bell.

Maggie invited me in to an eyeful of her beautiful bosom, tightly encased in semi-transparent latex. As always I immediately forget all my woes and the fact that I had been unable to serve my owner for four weeks. Then up the stairs to parade my new latex shirt for Mistress.

My butt plug had been deserted for a month, as I had  forgotten to take it home when I last visited The Chambers. Maggie soon took care of that by asking me to assume a suitable stance so me and my plug could be re-united. It was like we had never been apart, maybe a bit more lube than normal and Maggie took it easy by inserting it one bulge of the plug at a time. I definitely wasn't complaining about that, the red devil slid silently back into its resting place and I slipped not as silently into my red rubber catsuit and once again I was ready to serve as Maggie’s rubber slave.

‘Don’t neglect your worship slave. Show me how much you’ve missed me in your absence’. A remark that quickly had me on the floor, where, encouraged by her whip I attended to Mistress’ boots.

‘Thank you slave, and now for more worship and a reminder of your status’. Mistress leaned over the playroom horse and opened her crotch zip to expose her bottom, with a hard tug on a strap around my neck my tongue was parked between her bum cheeks and I was asked to proceed.

Sadly, my knees were becoming more wonky by the minute and I was unable to give Mistress the attention she deserved in the kneeling position, but that was no excuse. We finally settled on me sitting on the floor and Mistress straddling me, leaning forward; a perfect position for licking and cleaning that glorious little rosebud. My nose was nestled in the crack and I could make a point with my tongue and happily spend a lot of time licking and worshipping Maggie's perfect bottom.

The next association with Maggie's restricted area required far more self control on my part than cleaning and kissing her bottom. My head was eased into the toilet bowl hood and I knew what was expected of me. I was slid into position underneath the see-through toilet, where my hood was press-studded in place. Maggie chained my hands to my thighs and I was locked onto the toilet and the lid closed. It is a strange sensation being inside a toilet with the lid closed, anticipating the delights of what was about to be delivered yet helpless and blind as to what else might be going on in the Playroom.
  
I didn't have long to wait before Mistress raised the lid and the daylight came flooding in. Maggie sat down gently with her wonderful rear only centimetres from my eager mouth. I had learnt from our previous sessions that the most effective way of taking in the most nectar was by lining up the tip of my nose with her rosebud, that I had so eagerly cleaned a few moments before.

In that position, I was to open my mouth really wide and consume all the nectar that entered it. Mistress had been drinking heavily from the start of the session and there was a good stream that needed to be drunk. One other thing I have learned from day one of my training is absolutely no contact with Mistresses private parts - very difficult with them being in such close proximity. So with my gaping mouth open and regular swallows I worked on consuming every drop. I wasn't quite as accurate with my catching when Mistress tossed the contents of her drinking glass into her toilet. I did drink most of it but a few drops were spilt. Still it was only water and not the precious fluid.

Of course I had to be mopped up before I was allowed to enter the Clinic where Mistress fitted me with an all over hood with attached breathing mask. What a luxurious garment that hood was and such a fabulous fit. Mistress dangled a string of anal balls in front of my eyeholes saying that they were a new acquisition. In return I made a stupid quip about the mask and how it could be more airtight with clear plastic eyepieces. After a rummage, Mistress returned with a pair of tinted goggles insisting that I needed them strapped tightly over my eye holes. A stupid mistake on my part because I couldn’t clearly see the rest of the preparations any more, and I don’t think it had anything to do with the aromas that were being delivered, but from then on everything took on an eerie green tinge. Maggie was right with the goggles and they did restrict breathing exclusively through the anaesthetic mask. What was pumped in, was breathed in.

I may not have been able to see a lot but what I saw was definitely green, There were no such restrictions on my feelings although the aromas may have relaxed my anus somewhat and .I could feel the red plug being gently removed from my arse and that replacing them in my Southern passage was definitely the black string of balls. Maggie’s new balls were much larger than those I have experienced in the past and I don’t think there was much room left inside me by the time all four balls had been installed. All that was left was the little round ring on the outside for their safe retrieval.

Now I was stuffed at one opening I was being prepared for a catheter at another. Mistress increased my sedation with her medicinal aromas, pumping on her bulb made her aromas enter my anaesthesia mask providing an instant heady rush and feeling of relaxation. Mistress seemed to be getting a lot pleasure from cleaning my cock end with methylated spirit, very clean and correct I know, but I wasn't convinced that surgical cleaning was required deep inside my pee hole until Mistress offered the perfect explanation, ‘It’s because I like being a cruel nurse’.

A syringe of de-sensitising lubrication found its way inside my pipe, not the whole syringe of course just its contents, and that was that for five minutes as the invasive liquid worked its way deep into my plumbing. Those five minutes were wonderful from my point of view. Mistress busied herself with keeping the clinic clean and tidy, a few more applications of aromas, but most importantly for this slave, securely belted to the couch, was the most gentlest of strokes to my head. This time through the green haze I caught a glimpse of my beautiful nurse as she came to check ‘are you alright slave?’

It was an absolute text book insertion of a catheter. No force, completely sterile and no irritation whatsoever. Mistress has become more expert with each deployment. I am delighted to have been her willing patient almost from the start, when she first performed a catheter op, and each subsequent catheterisation has just got better and better.

Ah! -  now I realised where Mistress was going. I had idly mentioned in the past that it would be a real buzz to be taken out for a walk in a latex suit, plugged and with a catheter deployed. I thought this was a pipe dream but Mistress specialises in making dreams come true for her slaves.

The next stage today covered those few more steps towards that dream becoming a reality. Maggie attached a catheter bag to my leg, released my straps and sat me up so I could reorient myself. A few minutes later I was sent off to the bathroom to replenish her glass. . . three times. I was able to walk with the bag strapped to my leg and what was really jaw dropping was Mistress mentioning that the bag could be carried on the outside so long as it was disguised. That thought nearly sent me to an embarrassing melt down there and then. The thought of going out in my catsuit with Mistress, even if it was covered by 'normal' clothing, knowing that under that normality I was plugged and plumbed in, with no control of one of my bodily functions. Everything just quietly draining into a disguised bag.

Satisfied with her trials Maggie now needed to dispose of her recycled nectar. Quite a lot had filtered through my system by now and had collected in the bag. Maggie had only ever had one intention for the twice brewed nectar, I was to re-ingest that as well.

Consuming my own pee was never an issue as Maggie removed the anaesthetic hood and replaced it with one of her own designs in a semi transparent latex. The tube through the small mouth hole terminated in a plastic mouthpiece. A most effective way of regulating the flow of whatever was directed down the pipe. Simple yet incredibly effective and controllable.

I had hoped that I would get a dessert of another transfusion of Maggie's nectar judging by the amount of water she'd consumed since the first flush. No. Mistress needed to dispose of the bagful strapped to my leg first and hooked me up to my own bag of piss. No way as tasty as the fresh vintage, but I did set about eagerly consuming my own pee because that is exactly what Mistress wanted. It was remarkably easy to drink through the new arrangement and in no time at all there was no visible pee left in her fetish clinic.

As I said, this could be the precursor to an absolutely mind blowing experience, where, if Maggie considers I have earned the privilege, I am allowed to accompany Mistress Maggie for a short trip into the wide world, rubbered, plugged and piss controlled. What an amazing thought knowing that what appears to be a relatively normal couple is a rubber pervert under the complete and absolute control of his very beautiful Mistress. Watch this space (I hope).

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.