Glorious Start to 2019

The trip back over the Pennines to Yorkshire where Cathouse Clothing have their latex shop, was the fastest run we have ever achieved, which is just as well because a crisis occurred just as Mistress Maggie was about to insert my trusty butt plug.

Immediately before Christmas I became the proud owner of a latex double breasted black rubber trench coat, the male equivalent of that wonderful latex coat that Mistress occasionally wears, and Mistress had instructed me to wear it as we were going shopping.

'An outing to Cathouse Clothing is required. Wearing your new latex mac and appropriate black footwear you will act as chauffeur and servant as you escort your rubber macked Mistress on her shopping trip.’

As my mac provides an uninterrupted cover from neck to calf I thought nothing of wearing a second layer of latex beneath it, and put on my dark blue latex shirt and a pair of black zipped latex briefs to complete the ensemble.

In my role as chauffeur for the day I would be sharing the driving seat with my old red butt plug friend, but as I was bending over the horse ready to have it inserted, Maggie in a somewhat concerned tone had cause to ask me a question. ‘Have you split your coat slave?’ 

True enough the coat was split from waist to hem. 'Oh sh*t! Damn! blast! f**k! etc' - I was absolutely mortified.

Not only had I spent a full year saving up to purchase it, but I’d also been so excited about showing it off and taking Mistress out both dressed in our rubber trench coats. I thought I had wrecked both Mistresses trip and my new coat. No matter, in went the butt plug and Mistress instructed me to lie on the bed where she fitted a substantial magnetic weight around my balls, to keep me company on the journey, then reaching for the electrical tape she neatly wound a little tape around it. Well that wasn't coming off until Maggie said so!

With my coat spread out on a table we noticed that it was a seam that had popped. Mistress is an accomplished latex aficionado and had all the glue and tools needed to repair it, and after a short wait Mistress had the coat better than new. Boy was I relieved and happy to be properly dressed again. A little later than anticipated but at last we were able to set off and I was delighted that Maggie's husband had put on his rubbers and was able to come along for he ride.

The rest of the journey was fast and uneventful, apart from me needing to pee just before we arrived at Liversedge. That provided a slight problem because the ball weight and tight latex shorts meant the end of my cock only just reached the porcelain but oh what a relief!

We had a good look round the Cathouse store, Maggie tried a few things on and her husband bought her a very attractive skirt for her upcoming birthday. A very pleasant hour was had as we chatted with the proprietor, looked at the excellent latex clothing on display and luxuriated in that glorious rubbery smell that emanates from that lovely material. My primary function? Behave like a proper chauffeur, return garments to rails and mind Mistresses bag.



The proprietors, Caroline and Peter were so easy to talk to that closing time arrived all too quickly and we thought it appropriate to think about heading West again. We broke our journey when we spotted a little pub on the outskirts of Liversedge and popped in for a coffee.

There we were, a man and woman in almost identical black latex double breasted macs, Maggie's husband in his black latex suit and leather coat and no one seemed to turn a hair. I am sure they were aware but were too polite to stare. The lady behind the bar didn't blink at all as we ordered three coffees and we had a very pleasant chat at a corner table. I felt strangely excited sitting with my Mistress and visibly wearing my rubber in public and there was some stirring going on underneath my coat. Seven years ago never in my wildest dreams would I have believed that I’d own such a magic coat and be able to venture out with my two rubber friends without worrying about the natives. I wonder where my Mistress will take me in the future?

The drive home was just as swift as the trip East, something that I have never experienced on that stretch of the M62 but even so we still returned to The Chambers later than my usual session time and Mistress hadn't finished with her slave yet.

Leading me upstairs I was told to remove my butt plug and button up my coat. At Mistress’ hands I also enjoyed being fitted into a wonderful latex hood that I believe was new to her wardrobe and an incredible feeling to wear. I could have sworn my head looked far sleeker and much more attractive in the hood. Come to think of it, that wouldn't be too difficult.

I caught a glimpse in the mirror and even though I say so myself, the image was striking. My black coated figure topped off with my smooth and tightly covered head brought to mind an image I had drooled over a while back. . . which once again raises that scary spectre of Mistress having a direct link to my thoughts.

A ball gag was buckled on me. I can only assume this was to stifle my moans of pleasure because I certainly wasn't about to complain as Maggie ordered me ‘Over the horse slave’ and asked ‘Are you hungry slave?’ Mistress knows that by this time on a Friday I am almost certainly hungry, and thirsty. Perhaps I was to receive one of her delicious mince pies or even a thirst quenching infusion of Mistresses nectar, although wearing the ball gag may prove problematical for feeding. Oh well, Mistress always has a solution.

An 8" sausage should fill you up slave!

No. It turns out Maggie had something far more filling as she arrived in my eyesight wearing a huge 8" strap-on under her mac. I was gobsmacked. Well actually, Mistress stroked the side of my head with the monster and said. ‘This will fill you up’. 

I have to say that this was by far the best option I had considered. Slowly and carefully at first Mistress entered the tip into her slave followed by long full strokes and continued to ride me for around five minutes, filling me up with her toy and forcing many a groan of delight to escape around the sides of my ball gag. I got the impression that Maggie rather liked Christening my coat with a good mount in fact in some circles this style of coat is known as a riding mack. It certainly was on this occasion.

What of the ball weight that I had worn all afternoon and caused my little peeing problems? It was comfortable to wear for all that time and was easily removed. Once Mistress had unpeeled the tape the weight could easily be slid apart and I must say for a few moments I felt naked without it. Hmmm? I wonder if a catheter and leg bag works with ball weights? Probably shouldn't have said that.

I hope Mistress had an enjoyable and relaxing rubbery day out on her trip to the shops with her latex husband and latex slave. However relaxed Mistress was I still knew who was in absolute charge.

I love 2019 already and hope for more exciting trips out as Mistress Maggie's slave and I get goose bumps every time I am privileged to be in her company.

Outer Limits

There is nothing wrong with your screen. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. Mistress Maggie is controlling transmission. If Mistress wishes to make it louder, she will bring up the volume. If Mistress wishes to make it softer, she will tune it to a whisper. Mistress will control the horizontal. Mistress will control the vertical. Mistress can roll the image, make it flutter. Mistress can change the focus to a soft blur or sharpen it to crystal clarity. For the next hour or so, sit quietly and Mistress will control all that you see and hear. We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your set. You are about to participate in a great adventure. You are about to experience the awe and mystery which reaches from the inner mind to – The Outer Limits. That is the strange sensation I experienced when I received the calling mail -

'Tomorrow your rubber Mistress will be training you in the essentials of Egyptology.'

Nothing strange so far you may think, but if I tell you that in the period since my last session I had almost exclusively been browsing the internet for mummification videos, purely for research I hasten to add, when my calling mail arrived from my Mistress I really wondered if she had a direct Wi-Fi link into my brain. How come after two weeks research on mummification does my owner produce the exact scenario I’ve been viewing?

Even more macabre was Maggie's matter of fact explanation of where she intended to take me;

1. Remove breath from slave with plastic
2. Conduct medical autopsy
3. Mummify slave with film and rolls of electrical tape
4. Insert sound, check if slave has arrived in heaven

. . . and possibly leave me for eternity for some archaeologist to discover in a few centuries time.

What is this strange form of mummification? Electrical tape wasn't around for the Egyptian mummies so it must be early 21st century? Oh well we'll gently cut it here and . . .

Back to the inner mind and something not quite so surreal. Mistress had adorned her legs in a pair of laced long black thigh boots and I spent a very happy time worshipping those perfect legs. Down to the heels, a long slow lick punctuated by as many kisses I could fit in and down again. It wasn't long however before Mistress needed to progress her slave towards the outer limits of her Egyptian plan.

The plastic bagging was to make sure I was as near mort as she could manage without actually losing her slave. I know it is going to come back to haunt me but I do like to gaze at my owner as she allows the oxygen in my little pod to depreciate, there is no benefit in being greedy with the available air so slowly does it, and its always a comfort to know that Mistress will stay by my side as I begin to struggle for breaths.

Somewhat of a dilemma for her victim today. With my wrists tightly secured to my balls there were only two ways to go, well three if Mistress really wanted to dispose of her slave, but two realistically; beg for air or rip my balls off trying to free myself from the situation. As a consequence of Mistress relenting in response to my desperate pleas for freedom, I managed to keep my balls and was ready for item 2 from the list, the autopsy. If Mistress wants me to play dead, then play dead I will.

Laid out on the slab I was instructed in no uncertain terms not to move. Mistress carefully positioned a towel across my abdomen and explained to me what was about to happen in her autopsy; swabs, hair follicles, nail slivers etc but what was alarming was she proceeded to mark out my chest area ready for looking at my internal organs. Momentarily that threw me. Maggie wouldn't open up her slave... would she? That thought, however fanciful and far fetched caused real havoc for this 'cadaver' and I think you may be able to detect the onset of rigor mortis under the towel. Well that was my excuse as Nurse Maggie giggled a little and reminded me that I must keep still!

This was starting to get way too real. Imagine what impact it had on my already unruly cock when she pulled back the towel, eased back my foreskin, clamped it in place with a pair of clamps and then started to gently swab all round, both inside and out for the first DNA sample. ‘Keep STILL slave!’ became a virtually impossible request as my manly bits were being man handled by my beautiful pathologist Mistress.

I of course could rarely see how beautiful Mistress was looking, because the clear latex hood I was wearing for the autopsy was anything but clear. The small holes at eye level were a few millimetres off line and all I could manage was an occasional glimpse of Mistress through one small hole, that treat was restricted too when the pillow supporting my head was placed under my back instead, apparently to give a more realistic dead pose. With her pair of tweezers Mistress then removed a hair follicle sample from under my left arm pit, placing it in a petri dish to be checked for disease. Note to self; make sure I clean off all body hair before my next session.

The final piece of the postmortem was to take a small piece of toe nail. This caused some amusement because unknown to Maggie, it had only been two days prior to my autopsy that I had visited the podiatrist and had all my nails trimmed. Nevertheless, where there’s a will there’s a way and Maggie moved her scissors from one toe to the next until she finally cut off a suitable sliver to add to her sample collection.

Once satisfied that she had poked, picked, snipped and tidied up her 'cadaver’, Mistress shoved an inflatable and vibrating plug up my bum to aid my passage into the afterlife, and announced that it was time to preserve her slave for posterity. To ensure my lithe, slim, muscular, young body would remain in as near perfect condition as it was, the plan was for three layers of mummification. In reality I think Mistress was more likely to call my body fat, old, unfit . . . but as always I can dream.

Back in the mummification room we positioned the bondage plank which would become my final resting place, and I was squeezed into my heavyweight latex catsuit. A quick yet effective wrap of cling film was applied just in case the tape and latex were incompatible and so Mistresses slave was about to become Mistresses mummy.

A beautifully smooth mummy and a beautifully smooth Mistress.

With a broad sweep of her arm Maggie showed me the rolls of electrical tape that she would be using and in the same motion invited me to sit for the first lengths of tape to be applied. As I had seen in my research, these were over the shoulder to around the nipple line. Strip after strip of the inch wide tape was applied in a methodical and incredibly precise layering until it looked like I was wearing silver armour.

The winding continued. This time round my substantial girth. Each layer being accurately positioned to overlap the previous binding, smoothed out, no gaps and getting tighter.

Two things happened during this phase of the mummification. The first occurred when Maggie began a full head mummification, but my personal limitations with the narrow electrical tape round the neck became apparent. Mistress gave it a good try out, but it was proving unrealistic for me to have my neck taped for an extended amount of time. Maggie realised that too tight a neck would result in either her slave becoming an actual cadaver, or at best being uncomfortable to the extent that I would have to beg for release before the taping was completed. Being an incredibly practical Mistress, Maggie already had a plan B and produced the lovely pewter latex hood, worn with my slave collar this combination provided a very passable colour-matched head covering for her mummy.

The second happened whilst I was sitting on the edge of the bed, quite happily enjoying the torso mummification. Because the tape was narrow I had to sit still and upright for longer than my body would allow, as Mistress turned away to get another roll of tape her unsupported slave gradually keeled over like a capsizing ship and ended on my back draped over the very comfortable latex bed. After two hefty blows with a whip I was soon back up to a sitting position, but as I have said in the past, my owner knows when I am struggling with an exercise and helped me onto the plank to finish off my legs, feet etc

Oh what a change in comfort levels once I was prone on the plank. They say a good stout plank is good to ease backache and it certainly was, plus I got a latex pillow on which to rest my head. Once again I was really happy to lay there as Maggie wound round and round my legs then taped my body to the plank. Whilst taping my torso she leaned over me to pass the tape under the plank and each time I could feel the warmth of her sensual body through the insulation tape, the only bit of me that could move grew just a little with each pass. I was being meticulously wrapped, each layer being carefully placed and carefully smoothed until totally and tightly secured to the plank and finally laid to rest.

Unlike gaffer tape mummification which I have done with Mistress in the past, electrical insulation tape has slightly more give. It offers tightness, moulds more smoothly and has a super lustrous shine. Mistress walked around me viewing her new mummy, passing her warms hands over the odd wrinkle here and there and adding short pieces of tape to the smallest exposed areas, all the time checking that her mummy was OK in this very tight situation. And oh boy was I alright!

A seasonal touch to a well insulated slave.

Some time went silently by before Maggie re-appeared and I started to feel that distinctive touch around my groin as she gently cut the tape and freed my cock and balls. Her mummy was to be bejewelled with bright steel items that would accompany me and hopefully bring me joy in the afterlife. I sensed some tight binding being wound around my scrotum, then the heavy ball weight that I had spotted sparkling on her counter during my last session came out to play. The weight was soon attached, ‘you can take this one for being nosey’ said Mistress, and her actions left my balls in the tightest of embraces. Not quite finished though. Another steel item that Mistress had displayed in her tweets, alongside the ball weight, was one very very long curved and ribbed sound.

The picture doesn't give any impression as to how long the sound actually is, but as I lay there luxuriating in my heavy binds and feeling Mistress gently inserting its tip, my cock just seemed to suck it in. All Maggie needed to do was hold it upright and the whole length; ribs, curved end and a foot of solid medical grade steel was gobbled up by a very hungry cock. As Maggie gently eased it in and out I exploded around the sound. I strained in my tape heaven but all I could do was enjoy that sensation and let out a very contented series of moans. ‘And that's for being nosey as well!’ Mistress had planned the mummification as my Christmas present and had even added a seasonal embellishment of snow flakes on her very happy and very controlled mummy.

I may regret saying this but I think I would like to experience the full weight of the magnetic ball weight in a 'normal' upright position, when working in the Playroom or dangling from the rafter ring or suspended from the overhead frame, or even next time Mistress Maggie allows me the privilege of accompanying her on a trip to the wide world.

Thank you Mistress for another wonderful year of new experiences and servitude to the most perfect owner, and for taking me to those Outer Limits.

N.B. - 6 rolls of narrow electrical tape were required to mummify me.

Go With the Flow

Today I anticipated that I would be receiving a lot of Mistress Maggie's nectar, followed by a catheter and possibly a little light exercise, then perhaps be made to consume my own waste products! My calling mail from Mistress had been typically illusive.

‘Your rubber nurse has designs on taking you to theatre and will be fuelling you up so you’re ready to go’. So I think that my guess of what may happen in the session to come was quite reasonable.

That was my first mistake. I was correct in assuming that Maggie would ply me with liquor of her own personal variety, but this was supplemented by several tumblers full of tap water. Having read a tweet from my Mistress the night before, I also assumed I might be the recipient of a very deep sounding or a heavy ball weighting using the toys that she’d proudly announced she had acquired. I could see the metal ball weight gleaming on Maggie’s dresser, but that's where it stayed.

The beginning of the session was straight from my training schedules. Mistress was clothed in full latex, a long and sculpted skirt which, when unzipped revealed her natural latex stockings over a second pair of black ones, producing a mysterious sheen of amber on black. But of more immediate relevance were her black court shoes that were destined to receive my attention.

A latex mask is always part of my uniform and today I was given a mask that I cannot recall having worn before. My new persona had a small round mouth, good sized eye and nose holes, and for the first time in many sessions the mask became my identity for the remainder of my hours in the presence of my Mistress.

Mistress had obtained yet another new butt plug and brought it out from behind the curtain saying. ‘There you go, unwrap it slave’. It was about the size and shape of a large pear and I was instantly instructed to bend over to receive it. Maggie doesn't do gratuitous violence and pain, well not too often anyway, and try as we might the grenade just wouldn't even get a small penetration inside my bum-hole. People often say that things have gone pear shaped but the phrase somehow doesn't apply to my anal cavity. Many attempts to insert were tried but we were getting no nearer, and after a couple of expletives about the failings of my anus Mistress reverted to my trusty red ribbed invader; a little longer and thinner in girth but most importantly, more streamlined at the tip. Mistress was right to try the bigger plug, she is always right in her actions, but it seems my butt is more accustomed to a pointier style of plug and is not for changing yet. I always cause problems for Maggie and I am so relieved that she still puts up with this slave, imperfections and all.

I was soon snugly covered in my tight plum coloured catsuit and ready once more to become whatever my owner wanted her slave to become. Maggie had been drinking heavily since I arrived, only water of course as Mistress never consumes anything that would impair her impeccable judgement. I think that luxury may be reserved for her quiet time at weekends. Anyway, it came as no surprise when Mistress finished yet another glass of water and I was sent off to the bathroom for a refill. As I knocked and re-entered the Chambers, I was stopped at the door, instructed to drink the contents of the glass and return with another refill. Ah, part of my forewarned fuelling process. Fill, return, knock, consume and repeat twice more.

Next I was being transformed into a toilet for Mistress, being zipped into the toilet hood that is a good snug fit to reduce spillage and then snapped into position inside the toilet chamber. I was quite comfortable looking like a turd in the toilet pan, my hands were lightly roped to the eyelets on the legs of the loo giving me a little leeway to move them to the side of the seat. Gazing through the small aperture I had the occasional glimpse of my Mistress busying herself for utilising her toilet. I was just happy that Maggie was allowing me to be of service in this way.

The last time I was down the pan Mistress had closed the lid and left me for quite a while  contemplating my fate and I was also much more tightly bound and restrained. Today as Mistress sank into her most comfortable position I got a glorious view of her most beautiful derrière as it slowly descended, eclipsing most of the light. A stern warning was delivered to me, reminding me that I must consume every last drop and her toilet slave was ready and very eager for my duties.

The freedom in my wrists allowed me to put my hands in hers and with a gentle squeeze let my Mistress know that her toilet was ready, and so the first few drops emerged. There was just enough light to gaze on that magnificent trickle as it made its way to my open mouth, I could adjust my position so the stream that followed was directed straight through the small hole, round my U-bend gullet and eagerly be disposed of in the recycling plant. As Maggie released stream after stream I did detect the slightest of squeezes to my hands and that satisfying moan that is only created when a full bladder is gradually emptied. All the while I needed to remain alert as to where the next stream would flow, as each one was slightly different. How one beautifully petite Mistress could supply such volume yet in such a controlled manner, beggars belief; one of the many and wonderfully unexplained mysteries of the universe.

A few final drops seeking release down her slave had Mistress sitting down again and soon she had rid herself of the last remnants of water. I so wished I could be her bidet, flicking out my tongue to clean those last few drops away. Not permitted. I could look but not touch those private Mistress parts.

I was released and cleaned, a very full and content slave. Mistress still dressed in the splendid rubber outfit I had witnessed on first arriving then guided me to one side of the room and insisted I have a large whiff of aroma. Then, totally unexpected, she draped herself over the horse in that lithe sexy way that only my Mistress knows and made the most sensual hip movements with her latex covered bottom right before my very eyes. Maggie knows I cannot resist stroking her bottom and had deliberately set a test to see exactly how long I could resist the temptation. I moved forward and gently and very lovingly stroked that most remarkable undulating landscape. Maggie laughed. ‘5 seconds slave. You lasted a whole 5 seconds before you stroked my bottom’. Fortunately Maggie does occasionally allow me this liberty and accepted my touches with good humour.

Moving into the clinic, Maggie had me strapped securely on the couch in rapid time. You might believe Mistress had performed this on many occasions! My cock and balls were released from their latex prison and held on firm display with a leather harness that latched onto my slave collar, and a rubber tube gag was pushed into my mouth. Maggie produced a template and explained how her design would be marked on my exposed cock to form the blue print for her next piece of artistry.  ‘. . .  your cock will be decorated with needles where the marks are shown and the end of your cock will be closed off. . . .’

Now I was starting to be a little concerned because the fluid I had been told to drink earlier was now taking its toll, I could feel the peeing urge rising deep down in my stomach. My balls were neatly wrapped out of the way and Maggie proceeded with her plan; marking out her design and pushing in her needles. I could hear the needles being snapped free from their packaging and it felt like Maggie was applying sutures to my cock as well, as it happened that was not the case, but after each needle had been inserted it was twisted 180 degrees before jabbing me for a second time, an action that caused considerable pinching. As I lay there, I realised that I had guessed wrong and I would not be receiving the anticipated catheter.

Gradually the end of my cock was being sealed and that meant that my pee would be restricted. Maybe I would be left with some ability to discharge the fluids that had built up in my bladder? I hoped so because that familiar urge to relieve myself was now fast becoming a more desperate need. Another wrong anticipation!

Mistress had thoughtfully deposited more of her nectar into an enema bag and was now wheeling it towards me on the drip stand. Carefully picking up her pipes it was attached to my tube gag and being pumped into my mouth. When half of it was drunk I had to shamefully decline her fluids, not because I didn't desire more of that heavenly liquid but I had a big fear of embarrassing myself in the Clinic. I was so desperate to pee and it wasn't helped at all by Maggie frequently massaging my abdomen with her rubber gloved hands. I could just see that glint in her eyes as she stroked and asked 'innocently' if I needed to relieve myself.

Maggie insisted there would be no toilet visits for her patient until her needlework and cord work round my balls were finished to her satisfaction. It may have sounded like I was hooting down my tube gag, but by this time I was pleading with Mistress Maggie to go to the loo. Finally satisfied with her artwork, she released the straps and helped me gingerly off the couch. I was escorted towards the bathroom with the leather harness dangling between my legs.

During the slow waddle to that smallest of rooms, we both agreed that due to the unforeseen nature of what was about to happen it would be wise for me to pee in the bath.

As I stood in the bath I was experiencing that feeling of pleasure just before you relieve yourself. The anticipation of that stream releasing the pressure in your bladder; ah the delights of a good, long, bladder emptying pee. I wonder if Maggie got that same pleasurable feeling before relieving herself in her willing toilet?

I waited intently for permission from Mistress. ‘ Right, you'd better pee then slave.’ I felt that initial sense of relief as I felt my bladder start to empty then. . . nothing. Maggie had done her damnedest to make it difficult for me and what I thought may be a restricted slow flow turned out to be no flow at all.

What a frustration. No matter how hard I tried to pee, nothing. By now I was aware that Mistress had used needles to seal the end of my cock, and thankfully not sutures, but the effect was the same. Although I couldn't see the results of my abortive pee attempt, I imagine my foreskin would be expanding like a balloon with all that pee pressure building behind. It must have been a really pathetic specimen that stood before his Mistress. I couldn't pee. I was most uncomfortable and I have to be honest, I begged Maggie to let me have the simple delights of relief. Just a few drips had seeped out and trickled in a a very small pool in the bath. Mistress was highly amused but at last relented and released her absolute control of my bodily functions. Quickly the two foreskin needles were taken out and then. . . talk about a tsunami. Whereas Mistress Maggie was able to control her flow, my fluids came out uncontrollably, and thank goodness we had taken the decision to have me in the bath, although I did have to paddle in my own puddle of pee.

Another wonderfully unpredictable session with my beautiful owner, Mistress and friend. Long may they continue.

Time in the Twilight Zone

Entering the Chambers from the bright autumnal afternoon sunshine it takes a short period of time before your eyes become accustomed to the subdued ambient light. Behind the porch way lies a quiet area where mysterious objects are hanging silently on their pegs, creating an almost surreal atmosphere that gives the Chambers the feeling of a Twilight Zone. That strange, noiseless, wonderful world of latex, plastic and leather garments, punctuated by the occasional squeak or rustle as you disturb their thoughts and slumber, draws you deeper under their spell. The low light reflects from the sentinels, and I think I can be forgiven for temporarily believing that Mistress Maggie was once more fully attired in her stunning, form fitting, latex catsuit.

As my eyes became more accustomed to the half light I began to see that what I thought was full latex, was actually Mistresses latex leotard on top of the most stunning, almost opaque black tights. I momentarily stopped to gaze at my Mistresses beautiful image that was now more clearly defined in the brighter lights of the stairway, and must have stammered out a question about her striking combination of garments because she stopped halfway up the stair, turned and smiled to acknowledge my confusion, and with an almost imperceptible nod agreed to my request to get closer to her perfectly formed derrière. The latex gloves that I arrived wearing glided smoothly and seamlessly between the two materials and the effect was truly amazing.

I was only permitted the briefest of encounters before Mistress resumed her sensuous glide to the Playroom, where I was briefed and instructed to deposit my red catsuit on the bed to get warm. Dispatched to the bathroom I was told to return as quickly as I could, attired in my collar, red latex stockings and red latex gloves. I knelt before my Mistress. Maggie’s boots were long, black and shiny with laces up the front. This time I avoided kissing the laces as I worshipped and paid homage to my owners footwear, I even managed a quick nuzzle of those remarkable tights with the tip of my nose, nothing more, but that briefest of contact confirmed these were indeed similar in texture to latex.

We briefly tried a new larger butt plug that Mistress retrieved with a flurry from behind the curtains, it went in OK but either the shape of my arse or that of the plug resulted in it gradually sliding outwards. It just wouldn't stay in place. Mistress knew it would just pop out and, although a harness might retain the little bugger, she said her preference was for an alternative to be chosen. So for the time being at least, my trusty red butt plug continues to reside in the darkest depths of my arsehole.

A hood was to be fitted and I was instructed to kneel between Maggie's legs, putting me in very close proximity of her glossy covered thighs. As the fitting proceeded, I was able to exercise my latex gloved hands a little to confirm that earlier magical feeling of those special thighs. My hood for a while would be a black pull on number with perforated eyes and mouth openings. Being a pull-on hood, we exercised caution when fitting me into my new skin, latex can tear easily if handled badly, as we both knew only too well from previous experiences and so I remained quite still as Maggie gently eased it in place.

That strange phenomena of the eye perforations once more returned me to thoughts of the Twilight Zone. I could gaze at my Mistress but the vision was much as I imagine an insect would see, clear but pixillated. Which turned out to be a most appropriate analogy as Maggie ensnared me lengthwise on the horse with her web of leather straps.

Mistress came round into my restricted vision and said I was to be stretched, and that one of her larger strap on dildos would do nicely. Once again as Mistress presented her massive toy for my inspection, the restricted view through the little perforations distorted what I was seeing and I had to move my head to take in the full extent of what was about to invade my backside. More lube and I lost sight as Maggie lined up the pole with the hole. Once again Mistress showed her caring side as she gently eased the tip of the invader into its target. She needn't have worried. With virtually no resistance, first the tip then the first inch or so then the whole lot was slowly sliding in, up to the hilt. I eagerly thrust backwards to accept as much as Maggie could give her slave and Maggie spared no time in reciprocating.

I really was disappointed when Maggie finally pulled out and re-instated my red butt plug in the vacant hole, I hope she got as much pleasure from my good f***ing as I did. There were more pleasures to follow in today's curriculum and after a few moments rest for both of us and time to remove the strap on, Maggie positioned me underneath the ceiling ring and started to red wrap my upper body with film, arms by my side but hands free next to my thighs. I thought nothing of this minor freedom and suspected that Mistress would naturally complete the full wrap later.

However, Maggie put her clingfilm down and instead I got a couple of strange add ons; a couple of winds of red gaffer tape around my torso to keep everything nice and snug and a leather muzzle. I thought that was a gag but strangely it had only very limited gagging effect. Oh well, Mistress always has a good plan and a reason for everything and I would just have to wait and see where we were going. Maggie knows I love her latex bed and so I was placed down the centre of it, and with my legs hitched up to the ceiling with rope the clingfilm came out again and bound my legs together. My situation just got better and better as I discovered that the muzzle made a most effective anchorage for head chains and my feet were immobilised with similar chains to the base of the bed. I could have quite happily been left there in bondage for hours, so comfortable that I am certain sleep could have enveloped this very happy latex slave. Until of course I felt activity around my groin.

More tape was being pulled from the roll of gaffer tape and then the vibrations started. Mistress knew I had been celibate for a while and was about to prove that she does own every one of my emotions. Maggie left me to it, the only option available to me was to writhe in my pleasurable predicament, the vibrator was taped to me and the powerful vibrations just kept coming. I tried hard to resist, not sure if she wanted me to cum or whether I would be punished, but eventually I lost all control and ejaculated inside my latex catsuit. It appeared to be exactly what Maggie wanted. She wasn't annoyed, in fact she patted my groin, sexily saying, ‘Good boy, it’s been quite a while hasn’t it?’. Opening my zip she cleaned away the mess and disposed of her soiled gloves, as she donned another pair she announced, ‘First the pleasure, now the pain’. That has a most salutary effect on post orgasmic pleasure!

Maggie's safety scissors cut away the cling film bindings and I was encouraged to stretch out on the bed. In other times that would have been a luxurious experience but this time I was being spread-eagled and destined for some post orgasm torture. Chained securely to the corners I was to wear the tusk mask to facilitate aroma delivery. An oxballs cock cage device was attached and alarmingly Mistress suggested that next time a cable tie might make it more permanent! The final bits to be captured were my, by now, somewhat depleted balls, and Maggie had to engage the assistance of one of her cut down pairs of tights to gather them up and neatly secure the leather ball harness in its operational position.

The pain starts as the wheel of the stretcher is turned a few revolutions. It is definitely not like the pain of electrics which can be short sharp and immediate. This is the aching pain which starts in the root of your cock as the scrotum is stretched. At first it is quite pleasant as the most beautiful woman fondles your manhood, checking out how taut your balls are becoming and making sure the harness is in the right position for an even pull, then it turns to acceptance of the ache because that’s what her unyielding wooden ball stretcher was designed for and that is what Mistress wants.

An amusing diversion occurred when my balls, now much reduced in size following my earlier enforced ejaculation, managed to free themselves from their captivity. All in her stride, Maggie just retied the fastening even tighter, adjusted the attachments and was happy to begin the whole procedure again and successfully complete the exercises she had prescribed.

Yes, I've enjoyed this expansion in the past, but then we moved into new heights of ache as the handle was turned and turned again. I slightly bent my knees within the tight confines of the knee straps and tight chains, that provided a small amount of relief but only until Mistress made another turn of the wheel. That took me right to the edge of the ache. Once your knees are bent you daren't adjust your position on the bed again, because if they were to straighten during the move I’d really be fearing for the welfare of Mistresses balls! So endure I did. Mistress had taken us much further along the stretching routine than on previous occasions, I know that because for the first time, as I breathed in and my chest rose slightly with the inhalation the ache in my balls intensified. A bit of a dilemma, breathe or contain the ache? I settled for taking as shallow breaths as I could survive, and drifted towards dreams of my perfect owner Mistress Maggie, and how far we have travelled.

My thoughts returned to my initial experience in the hallway and the Twilight Zone. There is a fifth dimension, beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call The Twilight Zone and Maggie takes me there every time we meet.

A Glimpse of Heaven

The sun was shining through the hints of Autumn, the temperature cool but not too cold. Another perfect day to serve Mistress Maggie and I almost skipped the final few metres towards her chambers through the fallen Autumn leaves.

Today I would be addressing Maggie as my Queen, as per her calling mail - 'Your throned rubber Queen intends to pump and work you hard to earn yourself some delicious pleasures'.

What a stunning sight greeted me as my Queen opened the door and allowed me to step into her Queendom. Queen Maggie looked beautiful in her full latex with a long flowing skirt, and adorning her neck was her chain of Queenship that occasionally tinkled and chimed as she moved. Being told to, I quickly left my jacket in the cloakroom and followed my Queen. Maggie always looks truly magnificent and on this occasion her garments flowed like liquid gold.

Soon she was occupying her throne where her skirt draped open in a most provocative manner, giving her subject a tantalising view of her stocking tops and tiny latex thong when I knelt before my Queen. Not much chance I’d be receiving a knighthood today, if that were the case surely Maggie would have given a clue in her calling mail, so instead I followed the normal etiquette of waiting for Mistress to signal me with her foot and bow down to worship her gold studded boots, just as I have done before.

The gold pyramid decorations along the outsides of the boots received my undivided attention, but worshipping the higher parts of the boots nearest to the forbidden stocking top territory had me somewhat distracted. Of course I continued my licking and kissing while sneaking a peek at my Queens’s latex underwear. I cannot recall anything in the Rule Book about not mentally worshipping those forbidden parts, but I do know exactly where I am allowed to physically go and always stay within the boundaries laid down by my Mistress. (I wonder if it is treason though to have such thoughts about ones ruler?)

I was not allowed to rise just yet but was told to ‘about turn kneel, head on carpet', at a suitable angle for my red butt plug to be inserted. Mistress took out a tape measure and jotted down my plug’s measurements saying, ‘you need a larger plug slave’, before pushing it in my butt and helping me into my heavy latex catsuit, a gas mask quickly followed and it looked like I might be receiving some stimuli today when a bottle of aroma was opened and attached to the breathing hose.

In the centre of the room a chain was hanging from the ceiling, I was told to hold on to it for stability while I got my butt plug moving. Mistress ramped up the music volume, pumped the aroma pump and danced round in that sensual way that I have only ever experienced in her presence; I did notice she was clutching a whip. I was to receive a flogging from my Queen as we danced; the crack of the cat echoing inside the gas mask. My heavy latex catsuit absorbed most of the power of the swinging leather, turning the strokes into gentle caresses with very little pain and lots of pleasure. My dancing Queen was aware of the desensitising effect of the thick rubber and allowed her blows to rain down from every angle, even the cat between my legs added to my delight. Mistress danced, I swayed clutching the chain, timing my movements to provide the best targets. Mistress pumped the aromas and I loved every moment.

That's for securing the catheter.

We moved quietly and quickly into the Clinic; well to be more precise, my Queen flowed sensually and I floated in a wonderful state of euphoria and there I was slid into the inflatable latex suit that had been laid out waiting for me. A wonderful garment with the sensation of ending up dressed in three slippery layers of rubber.

Again I was pleased it was a cool autumn day as the prospect of an overheating slave were still present but greatly reduced, remaining covered in the suit for a long time seemed well within my capabilities. That was just as well, because once pumped up, that was just how I remained for the remainder of the session.

The inflatable gloves and hood went on and I lay on the medical couch being pumped up until I had become a large inflated rubber slave, and there I was buckled down. Mistress insisted on a few extra pumps to my balloon head every now and then, enough to make the hood so tight that even the lightest touch sounded like a balloon being flicked. In fact that is exactly what it was. My advice to any would be 'pump heads' is to make sure you keep a firm grip on the mouth tube, because with all the extra pressure there is a tendency for the tube to force its way outwards. It takes a little practice but I have it mastered and could breathe easily. The question ‘are you still holding on to that tube slave?’ becomes a regular precaution when Mistress is nursing a pumped headed slave.

I am never strapped down for nothing and was curious as to what sort of operation I would be having today when Mistress zipped open my crotch area and my excited cock sprung out. It was a strange and pleasant sensation having my bits fully exposed while the inflatable suit pressed down firmly on my surrounding abdominal area. Before I knew it there was more inflation going on inside my bladder, because Maggie had inserted a catheter down my penis and it was time to pump a syringe full of saline into the internal bulb to ensure the tube was safely and deeply embedded in my plumbing!

I know I have said this before but my Mistress is the best nurse a patient could ever wish for when it comes to installing a catheter. The procedure is now routine but just as carefully administered with a full sterile kit of parts; her patients cock is cleaned, lubricated and desensitised, a saline syringe is prepared for inflating the bulb, a pack of white sterile gloves are opened and donned for the catheterisation itself, the saline is deployed and that’s it. Safe and secure and my bladder function controlled once again by my owner. Apart from the wonderful sensation as the tube gently slides in with a shudder of delight, the only other sense is one of complete and everlasting gratitude that Mistress is an expert in this sort of operation. A latex leg bag fitted nicely round my inflated leg, attached to the outlet pipe of the catheter and I was ready for going anywhere and no stops for 'Mistress I need the toilet!. I love it.

A good view of my Queens chain of office

Returning to the Playroom I started to see some of the limitations of wearing the inflatable hood for a lengthy period. Mistress was fine, she was in the mood for some rubber relaxation and looked eerily mysterious with her feet up, gas mask on and listening to some of her favourite Buddy Guy tracks. Looking towards her clear gas mask lenses for a glimpse into her deep eyes, my own plastic lenses were severely misting and the pressure of the hood also affected what I could see as my line of sight was somewhat above the horizontal, which meant I had to lower my head to see anything in front. Come to think of it, was this my Mistresses forward planning? A bowed head to my Queen seems quite appropriate!.

I was told that I would be helping with the cleaning and was led by my collar to the bathroom to bring the sundries. A cleaning sponge, spray and a bowl of water were needed and I gathered them up and carefully followed my Mistress. I couldn't see much at all but I trust Mistress 100% and just went where the gentle tug on my collar took me. I ended up back in the centre of the Playroom, the overhead gantry was lowered and I received instruction from my Queen to clean the gantry and to 'get on with it'.

As Queen Maggie looked on from her throne I was happy with being able to serve my Liege. Most of the cleaning was done by touch as my already limited vision was steaming up even more. Feel the sponge, feel the spray, point spray and hope. It worked and I sensed all the spray went on the sponge and it was then a relatively easy matter of holding the frame with one hand and cleaning with the sponge with the other.

Fortunately Mistress had removed my inflated gloves before starting me on the cleaning duties which was just as well, because with the gloves pumped up tight I had absolutely no feeling in them and of course no grip. Earlier I actually managed a stroke of my Queen's derrière while squeezing through a doorway. I hope Mistress liked the feel of my touch because I couldn't feel a thing. Mistress is very mischievous in this area, she knows I like stroking her bottom and would lose that pleasure in the mitts.

Cleaning was hard work, as upon inspection Mistress insisted that my first time attempt at sponging her gantry was not thorough enough and parts had been overlooked. So, once again I set about feel, point, squeeze and wipe. This time I took a lot longer, visiting the bowl of water more frequently to rinse out the sponge and carried on until my Queen was satisfied that her subject had completed what she’d asked. I was then told to clear up the spray, sponge and bowl back to the bathroom and this time Maggie didn’t bother getting up to lead me! I picked up the items and tried to visualise my route. I could just see, mainly the ceiling, but had to rely on my earlier trips in my attempt to navigate my inflated self through the doors, along the corridor and to the bathroom. I did manage the trip safely, but, as you might expect and unbeknown to me, Mistress in her latex gown had followed on and was never more that a step away, just in case I ran into trouble.

I was still feeling wonderful in the inflated suit and the catheter was really starting to excite. As I moved about with the once contents of my bladder sploshing about in my leg bag, I knew I had no option should I need to pee. Mistress was able to plug or unplug my bladder in an instant by simply removing or replacing the catheter bung. I even tried to go through the action of peeing. Maggie knows that is no use, her slave would only be allowed to pee in harmony with her wishes today and there was nothing I could or would do to alter that. Strange feeling knowing you need to pee, trying to pee and... nothing!

Pleasant use of the low whipping bench

My inflatable hood was removed and I was instructed to sit on the bed while Mistress retrieved a practical piece of Playroom furniture for what she had in mind. Mistress had also taken off her gas mask leaving her beautiful face framed by an open faced latex hood, she slipped out of the room returning almost immediately with bowls of ripe strawberries and cream and placed them on the bench. Was I about to be teased again as Mistress consumed the fruit? Not impossible. The last time strawberries came into the Playroom I was all strung up and immobilised as Maggie lay down eating the fruit in the provocative manner she performs so well. No, my Queen was about to share her fruit with her loyal subject. We sat on the side of the bed and I fed my Queen a large strawb doused in cream. Mistress took two delicate bites per fruit whereas me being a pig downed my offerings in one.

Picking up cream covered strawberries wearing latex gloves can be a very messy business and we managed to get cream in places cream had no business ending up. One dollop ended on Mistress Maggie's latex covered thigh and it was a delicious pleasure cleaning that up. Dining with my Queen was a truly wonderful experience for this slave. I was in very close contact with Mistress as she swallowed her strawberries and I was so close to those beautiful lips. Again my training overruled my instincts as I so wanted to kiss those sweet lips but resisted the urge and gently wiped away the excess cream from them.

Why the title A Glimpse of Heaven? Apart from the obvious that being with my Mistress is always a glimpse of heaven, the title is also a track by the 1960's group Strawbs, ah the delights of Strawbs and cream with a beautiful Mistress, one verse being a fitting link to today’s tasty and wonderful experience:

Could you only see what I've seen 

You would surely know what I mean 

I think I must have caught a glimpse of heaven.