Chorley

Chorley, a quiet friendly Lancashire town is situated on the main West Coast main line, but more crucially it’s just a direct bus ride from Mistress Maggie's Chambers.

There was barely a ripple of interest from the Chorlians as I walked dutifully behind my Mistress with only the occasional glance at the slave collar I was proudly wearing. Hardly surprising really, because I was with a very beautiful friend who naturally attracts admiring glances. One or two may have been envious of my status, who wouldn't be, however, I did have two encounters with the locals concerning my collar. I have more to share about those encounters later along with an explanation as to why we found ourselves in Chorley.
I was really excited about the direction Mistress was to take for today's session, as she had made it quite clear in the calling mail that ‘. . . you should arrive in a roomy pair of trousers, and I can confirm that my intentions are to dominate you outdoors for part of your session. Ensure that you are also well hydrated when you arrive . . .’

In a previous session we had talked about how it would be a real buzz for me to be taken out in my latex suit, with my bum plugged and a catheter deployed. A scenario which looked like it was about to happen from the words in the calling mail, and I became both nervous and excited that Mistress might trust me with such a duty. However, when I contacted Mistress to say I’d be arriving for my session soon, what I thought was certain became rather more doubtful '. . . Wear a black short sleeve t shirt and black latex shorts to arrive . . . We’re not going out in the car.'

As always, I could rely on my Mistress to keep me guessing!

It was another very warm summer day and I arrived at The Chambers in the black latex clothes I had been instructed to wear with my baggy trousers on top. My latex shorts were already feeling quite moist. Even if we were to venture out in Mistresses husbands car, I would certainly need a plastic membrane to protect my seat, a thought that turned out to be quite unnecessary.

It had been obvious from the moment Maggie opened the door that I was likely in for a treat, as she had her piss pants on and I was hoping I knew where their contents would end up. With my outdoor clothes stripped away I set about worshipping Mistresses thigh length, black leather boots and I really tried not to be distracted by the rubber drain tube that was dangling between them. My butt plug was to be inserted next; Mistress has done a really good job of stretching my bum and the large red plug slid in easily before I was 'walked' on my lead, via the toilet to The Clinic.

I received the system mask, then strapped to the couch I was prepared for catheterisation. The catheter went in so quickly that I was amazed when Maggie said I was now plugged at both exits and had already begun tidying up her used sterile items ready for disposal.

Mistress showed less haste when is came to throwing the plastic drape away though and decided to tease her patient with it instead. As I lay there Maggie placed the drape over my nose, it has the kind of intoxicating plastic smell that any true plastic fetishist simply cannot resist. My natural instinct was to breath deeply on its strong and wonderful aroma, making it way too easy for Maggie to suffocate her slave with the drape. I was helpless and could be teased until I was quite breathless. The opening lines of 'Take my breath Away' floated into my head as Maggie continued to enjoy her plaything.

A breath through gag was then attached to the system mask; one which is ideal for drinking through. I had done as I was told and arrived well hydrated, even so I was about to receive considerably more liquid refreshment! Mistress is really thoughtful in her delivery. The nectar isn't released all at once, a good thing because the flow Maggie is capable of producing could totally overwhelm a slave, not to mention probably drown him. A good healthy head of fluid was visible in her piss pants and Mistress regulated the flow of my piss drink to a sensible level. Suffice is to say, I had a wonderful long drink of Mistress’ fresh, rehydrating fluids.

Mistress then uncovered another surprise. ‘A rubber catheter bag slave. It can be worn inside or outside your trousers. Which do you want?’

I was starting to question my bottle and stammered ‘inside please’. The leg bag was brand new and after a little surgery to shorten the drain tube it was strapped to my left thigh. Once the clamp was removed I experienced that familiar feeling of trickling pee. I had absolutely no control of when to pee and that was a little disconcerting! After a few adjustments Maggie thought it better to tape the exit tap closed to prevent any accidental leakage and the final question concerned what I should wear. Although I was confident about wearing the latex t-shirt in public the amount of sweat it had already generated was a bit of a concern. Mistress would have a very wet slave by the end of the journey so we settled on normal clothes and my slave collar and we were ready to depart.

‘We are going to catch the bus to Chorley.’ Mistress announced. A good ride of almost an hour, and once we had arrived at our destination we could check how much pee had flowed into the latex bag. The bus journey was very pleasant, we sat on the back seat where we talked about a number of perv subjects and other friendly musings, and I gazed at how amazing my Mistress is. All the while I suspected that the bag was gradually filling, but it posed no problems.

By the time we arrived and we stood up to disembark, the catheter bag was definitely feeling more weighty and there was a considerable bulge appearing under my slack trousers. But not to worry, anyone noticing would see a beautiful woman and a bulge in her companions trousers, quite natural really, but I suspected my highly visible slave collar would divert attention.

We sauntered around Chorley market, I bought Mistress a very nice bracelet from one of the local shops and finally walked into a local coffee shop fairly close to the bus station where two coffees were drank at our leisure. The coffee shop was busy with an easy and relaxed environment, although buying a suitable snack proved impossible because they had run out of buns. Mistress and I talked some more and Mistress exchanged some words and a smile with a lady sitting at the next table.

Meanwhile, my rubber cath bag was still filling and creating an even bigger bulge inside my trousers and I was conscious that it might be full. I needed to ask Maggie if I was allowed to use the toilets to attempt to empty it. Mistress gave permission and clear instructions on what I should do and off I trotted, upstairs to find the toilets.

An interesting experience to say the least. I found a cubical, dropped my pants, removed the safety tape from the tap, pointed it down the pan and. . . Whoosh. . . A veritable Tsunami shot down the porcelain. If you have ever filled a balloon with water and then let it go, that is the type of reaction my catheter bag created. It is a good job I had a firm hold of the hose otherwise I could have flooded the whole place with pee.

I returned without the bulge and satisfied that the catheter and bag worked a treat. There is nothing a slave can do once catheterised but trust the equipment. You can't stop the flow, you have no control and even the butt plug is there to stay. It is most liberating to know you are outwardly 'normal' yet still under total control of your Mistress and because of Maggie's thoroughness, totally safe and dry.

Next it was Maggie's turn to visit ‘the ladies’ and after just a few minutes she had returned to the table. The reusable flask that she had been drinking from throughout our journey was once more placed on the table, she began decanting its contents into a fresh coffee cup that she must have collected on the way. The drink was offered to me and believing it was an extra drink to keep me hydrated and the bag filling up, I eagerly accepted. I expected cool clear water, but no, it was better than that. Mistress presented me with a cup of warm nectar which of course was drained in a thrice.

And that I thought was the end of the adventure as Maggie announced ‘Time for home’. Except on the way out, a gentleman sitting on a low bench having a few beers with his mates noticed and commented on my collar. Maggie instantly hooked her finger through it and eased me towards the gentleman asking if he wanted to read the inscription on the medal - ‘slave in training’. Seamlessly he hooked his finger into the ring, dragging me further forward and said, 'Give us a blow job then’. I was in absolute turmoil wondering how Mistress wished me to react. I am her property but there was only a grin and no instruction from her. ‘I can’t I'm taken’ I stammered, and fortunately was immediately released.

The outline of the filling cath bag is just visible above my left knee.

The man laughed as we went on our way and suggested Maggie should ‘take good care of this one!’ Mistress seemed amused and unconcerned about my encounter. I still don't know if Mistress had anticipated this when she drew me towards the fellow, or whether she was as surprised as I was? In any event, I am owned and Maggie can do whatever she wishes with her slave.

On a lighter note, as we had been unable to buy a bun we stopped to purchase a sandwich for Maggie. The young girl serving us also commented that she liked my collar, but this time I managed to save myself from landing in any mischief; I smiled and said thank you. That was the end of the contact and the lady didn't ask me for a blow job.

The return bus journey was enjoyable but relatively uneventful, although I could feel my bag filling again. However, when we stood up to get off I felt the retaining strap pop open and I had to leave the bus holding the tube through my trouser pocket. Once again, all the public would see was a man alighting from a bus in the company of a very attractive lady with a bulge in my trousers. Most natural.

As we sauntered back to The Chambers I told Maggie about the strap and once indoors I could gently let the bag slide to its natural position, there from just beneath the hemline of my baggy trousers was the tip of the drain tap smiling back at us. Off to the bathroom then, Mistress bringing her syringe to deflate my catheter before removal. The rubber catheter bag needed emptying and thoroughly cleaning, and that I thought was the end, but Mistress had other plans and I was dragged back into her Playroom to complete my slave duties for the day.

I was ordered to strip with the exception of the butt plug of course, I was naked as the day I was born. Mistress picked a latex hood from her plentiful collection and strapped on her dildo harness, complete with her large flesh coloured dildo Mistress was ready for her slaves attention. I was finally ordered to give my Mistress a blow job. No doubts or reservations this time and with the right encouragement from Maggie and a warning as to where else she intended to put it I set about mouthing the dildo. I could only manage about half into my mouth and I really hoped that the movements were giving some pleasure to my Mistress. I have tried so many things with Mistress but this was a new lesson for this slave, as Maggie had never encouraged me before in this direction. I was handed a Durex and told to put it on her dildo.

Maggie ordered me onto all fours where she could easily pop the long stay resident butt plug out of my backside. I was instructed to sit on her knee and pleasure the dildo she was wearing. Yet another wonderful new experience.

The whole length of Maggie's shaft was taken easily and eagerly up my bum hole. I sat and wiggled and tried to get it deeper embedded and groaned quite a lot. Once more I hoped Maggie was having some fun because her slave certainly was. The position allowed Maggie to snake her free hands around me and grasp my cock and balls. That is a most explosive position!. . . except it wasn't. Just as I was about to warn Mistress that I was about to involuntarily ejaculate, she abruptly stopped and withdrew her energetic dildo. That was that. Another demonstration as to who is in total charge of all my emotions, orifices and experiences during my all too brief a time serving Mistress Maggie.

As to my experience in Chorley. It was a real buzz and I only hope I didn't let my Mistress down. The natives appear down to earth and friendly. I know I am a really fortunate slave and will do whatever my Mistress asks, although I am still unsure I’d have given that gent his blow job outside Chorley market if I had been so instructed, but then again I do trust my Mistresses judgement 100%.

I'm Too Fat - Official!

Mistress Maggie has decreed that I, one of her most loyal slaves, is too fat and once that Royal decree has been pronounced something has to be done about it, therefore -

‘Rubber nurse will be in attendance and she has a remedy which will help improve your waistline’.

Unlike Trump, this important announcement was not delivered via a tweet from Maggie, but via the call up e-mail for my 147th training session, a far more dignified and refined method of delivering bad news and, of course, far more personal.

Today was definitely a tale of two sessions. The first part, conducted in The Playroom, was not my finest hour as I know I did not please Mistress as she wished. That is not to say there weren't really high points during the first half, but I let Mistress down and I do not like having to admit that.

The preliminaries though went perfectly well; much delicious worship of Maggie’s patent knee boots, my butt plug installed without a hitch and my latex catsuit and hood glided on with no problems at all. I also delighted in being told I must wear Maggie's new Belgian gas mask, a full face mask that fitted excellently over my inner helmet. I know Mistress likes neat and tidy so the visible mask straps were a bit annoying, but with a big smile Mistress warned me that she’d be getting much more pleasure from it later.

Then the real high occurred when Mistress hung me from the ceiling in the heavy suspension harness. I had struggled with balance the last time I used it, so this time I clasped the overhead, lifted my legs off the ground and ‘et voila’ I was swinging nicely. It was then an easy task for Maggie to hitch my legs up out of the way on a spreader bar, and the position made my cock and balls very exposed and vulnerable. My breathing suddenly began to feel a little different; Mistress had attached a long hose and dildo to my gas mask and declared that I was ready for her game of ’pleasure and pain’.

Hmm, it was likely to be me that would be receiving the pain part, because I knew I was in trouble for foolishly attempting to demonstrate my devotion to Mistress in Latin.

I had translated my oath to Mistress: ‘I promise . . . to willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question’. I had tried to be entertaining in one of our email exchanges and I had translated that to Latin, not checking that when my oath is translated back from Latin to English it returns gobbledygook! Try it and see, but I suggest you don’t try the same with Maggie as my mistake earned my balls one almighty punishment.

Swinging quite happily and gazing at my beautiful owner through the full face mask I could see everything, including the arc of her crop as it approached my cock and balls and gave them a hard smack. After each stroke with her cruel crop Maggie used her dildo, cutting off my air supply as I watched her pleasure herself and that is how her pleasure and pain game progressed.

Of course when you can see the next crop stroke coming towards you the natural instinct is to flinch, and that was my downfall. As the little hand at the end of the crop descended yet again, I twitched. In fact I struggled and I managed to get the blow right on the end of my cock. That really hurt and I should have heeded the warning to stop struggling, I was struggling for air too as the dildo was being sunk deeper inside Mistress by now.

Two strokes later I made the same stupid mistake, flinching at exactly the wrong moment made the crop connect with my balls and that really took my breath away. Nothing Maggie could have done; all my own fault; I will do better next time BUT right now I was only able to slump in the harness.

I hadn't realised just how out of breath that blow had left me until Mistress tried to pleasure herself again. Being the perfect Mistress she quickly realised I was in trouble and eased me down from the suspension, allowing me and my battered balls time to recover. That didn't take long but I could clearly see through the Belgian mask that I had disappointed the very person I try to impress, and I was determined that I would not do it again in the second part of the session which would be taking place in The Clinic.

Off came the mask and thick suit, on went the rather nice, and initially quite cool operating gown and anaesthesia hood and I was strapped down ready for part two, the waist reduction exercise.

As an aside, that rear fastening operating gown is so smooth and glides wonderfully over your skin, it also allows easy access for Mistress to perform her operations.

‘Right slave time to make that waist a little more attractive’.

Maggie set the couch at a good working height and was standing ready with her blue medical gloves on. Even through the heady smell of the medicinal aromas, I detected the 'taste' of the familiar antiseptic cleaning fluid being carefully and generously applied to the area to be operated on.

Of course, with the couch being flat I couldn't see what was happening down at chest level and in view of my earlier disappointments for Mistress, I vouched I’d lay absolutely still, but I could feel what appeared to be a series of marks being symmetrically placed either side of the breast bone.

As I said, my Mistress likes things neat and tidy and after first tidying my balls with a snug tourniquet she covered my lower body with a green latex modesty sheet. Both the sheet and ball control are experiences not to by missed by any fortunate slave!

Then slowly, methodically and very gently, Mistress started to apply her many needles. I lost count after a dozen, but who was counting? Helped by the relaxing aromas and by my determination not to disappoint Mistress again, I lay motionless. Whether it is Maggie's expertise or the aromas or a combination of the two, I barely felt anything more than a tiny pin-prick as each needle was stitched in place.

Perfectionist that she is, Maggie applied silvery needle ends to prevent accidental jabs and improve the look. When Mistress had finally completed her needlepoint to her satisfaction I was treated to the most wonderful smile through the black latex mask, accompanied by a few more puffs of aromas in preparation for the next part. Obviously Maggie couldn't administer aromas during the operation, but that first puff and radiant smile had me once again floating and ready for absolutely anything, while the ‘Well done slave’, was music to my ears after my earlier failings.

Then a little light banter where Mistress was teasing me with the colour of ribbon she intended to use to lace and tighten my corset. I quipped pink ribbon definitely would look inappropriate and she pondered for a while on that thought, I really must learn to keep my mouth shut. However, it was a long black leather thong that was retrieved for the job, a good reliable choice, strong enough to hold my flab in.

A few more squeezes of the aroma bulb, a final check that I was OK and once more Mistress disappeared from view to begin lacing up my corset. Like a boot, the leather lace was gradually and loosely wrapped round each of he corset 'eyes' and finished with a knot. Maggie appeared very satisfied with the corset and spent some time having fun pulling at the laces.

I had noticed a shiny steel stretching device by the window when I’d entered the Clinic, Maggie had intended to deploy it on my balls for her added amusement, though in light of what had happened earlier she decided they’d had enough battering for one day and my balls would be stretched on another occasion.

Instead, Maggie would be tormenting my nipples and a large dollop of lube soon landed on one of them, closely followed by a tiny suction pump that seemed keen to suck the nipple up. Maggie was not content with the results and applied a larger suction pump over the top of it and that began sucking on the surrounding area, my other nipple was soon receiving exactly the same treatment. Surprisingly the pumps caused no discomfort, in fact through the aroma induced state I was floating in they did feel rather pleasant. Another one of those 'shouldn't have said that' comments!

I think I managed to relieve some of the disappointment that I had inflicted on Mistress in the first part of the session, she said the corset looked fabulous. High praise indeed, although all I provided was a very still and willing piece of meat on which Maggie was able to weave her magic. There was still one final thing to reinforce who is in charge, and I must say a most enjoyable climax to the session. The latex modesty sheet was folded down. ’ . . . At the count of three slave. . . One. Two . . . ‘, I managed two and a half but I am certain Maggie deliberately introduced a long pause between two and three just to finally tease her slave.

I loved the concept of being the corset rather than wearing one. I was also pleased with the suspension and will discuss a few things with Mistress that may improve the situation from her perspective. I loved the freedom and visibility of the new Belgian gas mask, and have learnt never to use Google to translate English into Latin if I want to hold on to my balls!

34 needles by the way. Mistress Maggie was counting.

Water Water Everywhere . . .

What a scorcher, and I am not only talking about the hottest day of the year. Mistress Maggie had sensibly kept her options open for today's session, but before we discussed where she wished to take the session, Maggie played a little game with her slave in the doorway to The Chambers. There is normally a 20-30 second delay once I ring the doorbell before Mistress opens the door, enough time for me to take a deep breath and compose myself, and to act as a reminder as to who exactly is in charge, in case of any doubt, Mistress is ALWAYS in charge, but today I had barely taken my finger off the doorbell before the door sprang open and I was ushered in.

This threw me completely. Was I on time? Was I late and Mistress was annoyed? Was I early again and earning more crop strokes?  Nope, I was bang on time and Maggie was just toying with her slave.

That wasn't the only surprise Maggie sprung on her bemused slave, as I was greeted by the most magnificent sight I have seen in a long time. Mistress was elegantly dressed in an off the shoulder maroon formal dress with her hair like that of a Greek goddess, diamonds on her wrist and every inch the vision of pure beauty.

My jaw dropped and I couldn't help drooling over this latex vision who was to be my tutor for the afternoon. Once my stammers had subsided I managed to compliment Maggie on how stunning she looked. I know I go on and on but I can't stop eulogising at the vision that was standing so seductively in the little entrance hallway.

The palpitations didn't stop there either, as I followed Mistress up to The Playroom her hips were swaying in the most provocative and seductive manner and I was reminded why I am totally under the spell of this Greek goddess. Mistress was wearing lower shoes in keeping with her magnificent stature, tantalizingly visible just below the hem of this delightfully alluring garment.

It was certainly a hot day yet Mistress seemed calmly cool in her gown. I was so gobsmacked by the absolute grace and beauty she exhibited that I could not help rabbitting on and Maggie let me take a couple of pictures of the stunning vision. As I fawned a little more, she answered my nosey question and Maggie indicated that the dress was one of her own rubber creations from twenty or more years ago. Despite its surprising age, the dress was in perfect condition and looked like it could have been made last week.

The benefits of this attire just kept emerging. As I have already mentioned, Maggie wore shoes to complete her outfit and seating herself down comfortably on her throne she eased them off. Even that act was most captivating as she revealed her bare feet. My training has been quite strict; confine worship to footwear. Without the footwear as a guide, I hesitated until Mistress placed her naked feet on my face and told me to lick off the perspiration created by the heat of the day. I needed no second bidding and set about cleaning, licking, kissing and generally worshipping each foot in turn.

Mistress has delicate feet as I have previously found and today they were highlighted by the reddest nail paint you could imagine. I toyed with them, trying to get both toes in my mouth at the same time and failing, but I had a most glorious view up her legs, past her latex covered thighs and beautifully sculptured bosom and finally to her right regal and beautiful face, and here I was, nibbling her nakedness and having the time of my life.

My butt plug had not been forgotten and was very easily inserted, partly due to the copious lubrication and partly due to the fact I was already perspiring. However, climbing into my thin, black latex catsuit was a whole different matter and after three abortive attempts where I just got stuck, Maggie instructed me to remove the sweaty suit and try the thick black one which is slightly larger.

Naturally Mistress was right as always, and because of the extra looseness I eased my way inside without too much trouble, wrist and ankle zips were made secure and I was in. My ensemble was topped off with a comfy latex hood and once again I was covered in my favourite coating.

Surprisingly the catsuit stayed almost cool. I was comfortable inside my cocoon but sweat and the heat took another toll.

When Mistress attempted to fit the GP5 gas mask over my inner hood, the amount of sweat made it impossible, the water was trickling everywhere and consequently my hood had to come off so I could wear the gas mask successfully on its own. It actually worked out fine because Mistress instructed me to make sure it was in place as it was staying put for a while.

That was not the end of the hood though, Maggie assured me that I would be re-acquainted with the dirty dripping thing later.

As the session progressed I occasionally found my breathing being interrupted, largely due to Mistress mischievously placing her palm over my air source, but occasionally as I allowed the end of the tube to come in contact with the latex bed. On the first jerk to free the airway, Mistress checked what was the matter and in future told me to stop moving!

The ambience did start to get a little warmer. I was receiving regular doses of aroma while electrodes were applied to my cock and balls and checked to see if they were delivering the intended current. Mistress had fixed a steel loop round the whole lot, a double ring that she slid onto my cock, and to finish a steel corona was supported on my bell end with a condom. The electro box was switched on and off a few times during installation, but finally I received a steadier warming pulse. Combined with a steady stream of aromas and the unrestricted view of my beautiful owner I was also starting to get rather excited and rather hot in more ways than one.

The lights went out when Mistress covered my eyes with a blindfold and sat with me to read the next chapter of the story that we had started in an earlier session. The gentle sound of her sexy voice, the warmth that was being generated with her sitting on the bed next to me and the continued variations of the e-stim had me drifting inexorably towards orgasm. I love to get hot in my latex and you can see from the liquid that has leaked onto the latex bed sheet how warm we were both getting. You would think with a good thick latex suit that such leakage was impossible, but of course with a through crotch zip water does escape. Water water everywhere. . .

When the chapter was over and we had finished our little discussions on some of the story’s shenanigans, Maggie decided it was time for me to experience more latex and changed the gas mask for a rebreather hood and bag. The re-breather bag is another of Maggie’s own creations with a zip to allow for insertion of various items, and after a little 'standard' rebreathing which I was quite happy with, Maggie opened the zip, stuffed the sweaty dripping hood from earlier inside it and forced me to take deep breaths on the wet rubber scent.

If you are on Flickr there is some video of the story reading, but may not be available on all devices. - Part 1 HERE and Part 2 HERE

Later a pad laced with aroma was added to the smell bag. That did it, I was totally overwhelmed with the extra sensations, I tried to give a warning to Mistress Maggie that she was about to force me to ejaculate but she already knew it. Once again she was pleased that I had absolutely no control over any of my bodily functions and I do like to be in these situations with Mistress in total control.

I was privileged to be able to help Mistress clear up afterwards, it was only fair because I had made the most watery mess you could imagine. We laughed and relaxed and cleaned and washed and I love being allowed this privilege. Mistress was absolutely right in choosing to play indoors, she had made our session less physically demanding because of the sweltering weather. The excitement, the atmosphere and the cock and balls were all electric, and once again we finished with me knowing that I have found the perfect owner, Mistress and friend.

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!