Winter Sucks!

Winter sucks. Not because of the cold, Mistress Maggie as always had been very thoughtful towards her slaves comfort and had The Playroom heated to a very pleasant temperature. Nor because of the wet and snow, Mistress provided me with the most wonderful climate inside several layers of latex that are available in her Chambers. Nor because of the dark evenings, I’ve been made to spend many a happy hour bound up in thick latex accompanied by an effective blindfold. No, winter sucks because of the bugs and infections that increasingly affect me as I get older, particularly as happened today, those nasty little blighter's that result in catarrh. This objectionable condition can cause havoc with a good training session, more so when lying flat and still. In fact that very bug is what has delayed completion of this blog by more than a week!

The strange thing is that when not lying down I feel fine, the mucus drains away and I can cope with anything, even the severe attack of nipple torture I was given that made Mistress laugh, along with a little annoyance when my inverted left nipple refused to accept her screw-on nipple electrode. No, the worst thing was that catarrh caused me to perform badly, leaving my Mistress a little deflated.

I felt 98% in excellent health as I sauntered towards the Playrooms. That increased to 99% when I got the feint glimmer of a very beautiful latex clad goddess through the small window in the front door and, wow! - when Maggie opened the door and ushered me in I felt over the moon, and definitely 100% up for another excellent session where I knew I would please my Mistress. What a beautiful, black latex outfit. A beautiful flowing skirt that swirled like a Flamenco dancer as she moved, a wonderful black basque that showed off her beautiful body to perfection and a prominent wide waisted corset belt. No tights, so her stunning white alabaster legs were in stark contrast to the latex that swirled around them and the leather boots that perfectly complemented her outfit.

My service to Mistress began with a lengthy spell of kissing, licking and fondly caressing her boots, but woe betide if you stray from the leather of the boot top onto that luxury alabaster white thigh. It was oh so tempting and so close that I could feel the warmth of Maggie's thighs on my forehead, but I am by now too well trained to risk the wrath of my owner. The occasional flick of Maggie’s butterfly crop was enough to keep her slaves' attention and perhaps pre-empt the thoughts of straying!

As it was time for my butt plug and slave hood Mistress had me kneeling. Knees very wide apart, head down on the Playroom rug she straddled my back, then facing towards my backside began her ritual oiling of the orifice and plug, gently and firmly easing the plug inside me where it would remain for the rest of the session.

Since my last session I had given my catsuit some special cleaning attention and had managed to make it nice and shiny, it had been laid out on the bed and by now was nice and warm, but when Maggie picked it up to help dress her slave she spotted that the polish I’d applied had made the latex very sticky and offered her advice. ‘Wash this polish off when you get home slave and stick with the Mr Sheen’.

Electro nipple clamps

Unfazed, Mistress produced an alternative catsuit which unlike mine had entry zips on the shoulders. I must admit it had been a while since I’d had the privilege of wearing this suit and it still fitted me well, perhaps a little more shaking and stretching to get it aligning with my contours, but once inside it feels simply wonderful.

So far so good. I was feeling good in my rubberised state and ready to be a toy for Maggie’s amusement.

Seated on the edge of the rubber bed I was directly under the ceiling rose and suspension ring. Maggie was going to be making use of the ring, and once she had my hands inflated in a pair of pump-up mitts she made sure they were even more useless by hooking them to it. My hands would be playing no part in the next part of her well executed plan, a shame really as I didn't even get chance to sneak a gentle stroke across Mistress’ latex derrière. Being secured up out of the way they made my chest an easy target for her torments and Maggie’s electric nipple clamps were brought out to play.

The photo really camouflages the problems my left nipple was causing. The right nipple clamp fixed and stayed put for all my electrifying experience, whereas, the left one had other intentions; any clamp deployed on it would only be allowed with a 90 second permit! Enough though for Mistress to apply a little tingle which caused an involuntary jerk (good definition of this slave) which caused the nipple to shed its clamp. Try as she might the pathetic nipple was determined not to play and was deemed unworthy of her stimulating attention. More time electrocuting the right one then!

What a glorious sight to a latex freak -  A beautiful latex Mistress

Tiring of tortured nipples Mistress inserted me into yet more rubber in the form of the heavy rubber bondage suit; an all over thick rubber covering with arms that end in reinforced latex mittens. To make matters worse, or better for a rubber bondage freak like me, Maggie attached the stoutest of her harnesses and buckled my upper and lower arms to my sides before allowing me the pleasure of the system mask. I must be getting more accustomed to this beautiful mask as there were no hitches zipping it on, and more importantly I had no adverse effects from snuggling down in it on the latex bed.

By now I was completely buried in latex, even my eyes rested behind the perspex lenses of the mask meaning I could see my beautiful Mistress as she gradually attached the two breathing hoses at either side of my rubbered face. At this stage I was floating in a sea of desire enhanced by some lustful thoughts! Only thoughts, because in my trussed condition all I could do was gyrate my groin against the layers of latex. Not enough to generate relief, and with the beautiful vision of my Mistress only inches away I had to stay delightfully frustrated. To add a little more control Mistress strapped my legs together, just to let me know she was in charge!

The first and then the second of my crotch zips were opened, letting a little cool air pass over my aching cock and balls before a cock sheath was tightly stretched over my member and the zips pulled up again, leaving me even more heavily covered in that heavenly material.

Two corrugated hoses were attached to my breath source, to the right came something to obscure my already lustful thoughts; one of the new generation of aroma pumps. And to the left Mistress’ chosen alternative to fresh air; a large bubble bottle of her personal liquid waste. Mistress announced she had been collecting her piss for a whole day and that I should savour her flavour whilst breathing deeply. And that was to be my whole life for now. Totally rubber enclosed, not going anywhere, and a beautiful woman in TOTAL control of my breathing and senses.

Mistress squeezed her hand pump, sending a few doses of the intoxicating aromas my way before moving around to my other side to attach me to the sweet scent of her delicious pee.

The bubble bottle wasn't airtight straight away and not bubbling as it should be, so Mistress did a quick reconnection and soon had the air leak solved and all bubbling away nicely. But sadly during those extra few minutes the nagging cold and catarrh surfaced, taking their toll on my resolve for the first time in what otherwise was a perfect rubber session that I would have loved to endure for many hours.

Then it went dark; Mistress making me realise exactly how dependant on her I had become. She controlled my breathing, my movement and now my sight. For me dependence on my Mistress is a truly liberating experience.

I knew there was something wrong, as despite the comfort of the system mask it was now starting to feel heavy on my windpipe and I was starting to struggle with breathing. Normally I love struggling with breathing but now I couldn't see a way back, because even without the mask my windpipe would be causing an issue.

Mistress had already noticed the signs and quietly asked if I was struggling and would I like the system mask removed? I am really fortunate that Mistress really does understand her slaves and after another couple of difficult breaths I asked if it could be replaced. I never want our sessions to end and consequently thought a different mask would be the best answer and would keep Maggie cheerful. The tusk mask was fitted and I returned to breathing more easily for a while and partaking in more sniffs of that rather pleasant aroma. Mistress even treated me to some ball tingling electrostim as I lay there quite relaxed, but that winter bug wouldn't give in and once again I felt my throat starting to fill up.

Though I know that I should have mentioned my problems I stuck it out for as long as I could, because I really did not want to upset Mistresses plans. I know she derives a lot of pleasure from our heavy rubber sessions, especially when all her meticulously planned ideas come together.

I was pleased when Mistress offered me a drink. She detached the bubble bottle containing her piss and inserted the drinking straw from the tusk mask. I had been religiously holding the tube in my mouth since I was installed in the mask and this could be my saviour. A nice long drink of Mistresses nectar was bound to revive her flagging slave, except the straw had kinked somehow and no matter how hard I sucked the magic potion just would not arrive!

Without her special medicine I thought all was lost. Shamefully, for the first time ever I over exaggerated my condition to my Mistress. ‘I’m dying’, I muttered.

I wasn't of course but Mistress takes no chances with the health of her slaves. Starting with headgear first I was methodically and swiftly extracted from the confines of the rubber sheet, harness, bondage sack and catsuit that I was wearing. As I lay there on the Playroom bed quietly cooling down I felt so ashamed that I had thought to exaggerate my discomfort beyond all reason, making my Mistress and friend unnecessarily anxious.

I knew I had seriously let my Mistress down and as a result I had failed in my primary mission to make Mistress Maggie happy. I tried to make amends with helping tidy away afterwards, but how can that be enough? For putting up with me she deserves a whole lot more than that. Damn those winter bugs and yes, winter really does SUCK!

Under Her Sole

I have been privileged on quite a few occasions to be able to worship Mistress Maggie's long red, thigh length vinyl boots and today was going to be another of those lucky days. I was met in the doorway by nurse Maggie, where in the dim light of a wet Friday afternoon it was hard to view the detailed components of her fantastic uniform, and at a glance she appeared to be swinging what looked like a length of bungee cord, but her bright red shiny boots stood out like a beacon in the hall. It is always a thrill when I see Maggie for my training and today, because it was raining, I’d been given permission to arrive in my new latex mackintosh.

As Mistress beckoned me to follow and turned to glide up the stairs in a way that only she can achieve, I realised that the back of her latex skirt was absent, revealing the clear latex of the piss pants she wore underneath. That which I had believed was a bungee cord was in fact the latex feeding tube, making it an almost certainty that I would not be going to dehydrate during my training today.

Changed out of my outdoor gear and wearing only my latex socks, gloves and slave collar I knelt on the ground ready for Mistresses next command. When Mistress indicated I should do so, I started cleaning her long red boots. I have experienced this same delight quite recently and the thrill was no way diminished as once more I started moving my tongue in long, slow worship. In fact my cleaning duty was somewhat enhanced once Maggie had produced an aroma soaked towel and held it firmly over my mouth and nose. The gentle effect of the aroma vapours made those long slow licks and kisses even more profound and I found myself just hugging the boots and gazing up at Maggie.

With a flourish of the crop Mistress ordered me onto my back, looking up at the empty piss bag between her legs. She explained that as we would be going into the Clinic it was important to maintain the clean environment and that the boots needed to be satisfactorily sanitised, particularly their soles. I tried to lick clean the soles and heels but my efforts were not sufficient to meet Maggie's requirements and therefore she chose to clean them by scraping them across my chest. This is the first time I have officially been designated as a doormat and another step forward in my training, however, I wasn't expecting the pain that followed. I had already discovered that her beautiful boots had treads on their soles and heels akin to a set of off road tyres. Deep, well formed treads giving plenty of grip.

Liquid refreshment slave?

Mistress first wiped the soles of the boots down my chest, then with obvious delight placed her heels on my upper chest and pressing quite hard began rotating them. 'Stop whinging slave' and another quick crop. The real pain came as Mistress placed her chunky heels directly on each nipple and rotated them. Because the buds of my nipples were nestled in the squared treads of her soles the twisting was really torturous; it felt like my nipples were being unscrewed.

I made that same comment to Mistress, which only warranted her short unsympathetic reply. ‘Don't be stupid slave. You can't unscrew nipples’. The upside of the heavily grooved soles is that Mistress is unlikely to slip on wet floors or ice; one less worry for this slave. The downside of course is when being used as a doormat, the dark side of the sole is just that, with hidden painful secrets.

I was prepared for rubber clinic activities and my butt plug and rubber suit fitting was achieved in record time, in fact the plug had the easiest passage ever. My rubber clad body was soon embraced in a leather harness, and in a hooded state I was secured on the low spanking stool with an inflatable gag pushed into my mouth and Mistress’ piss tube securely attached to it. I was just at the right position to view her amber nectar as it gradually filled the rubber bladder. It is a mesmerising sight to look at Maggie, watch the piss pants begin to bulge and see the gleam in her eyes.

This was to be the first part of my re-energising after the Christmas and New Year excesses. Mistress deemed a full bladder of fresh pee suitable to do the trick and once the tap was opened I had no difficulty consuming every last drop. It might be wishful thinking but I got the impression that Maggie was rather pleased with my efforts, as she turned the tap off and tucked her tube back into her waistband she mentioned that there would be more pee for me later. Feeling suitably hydrated with this earthy part of my training it was time to move on to the windier parts of reinvigoration.

We moved to the clinic for what turned out to be a lengthy spell of airplay. Maggie produced a piece of equipment in the form of a double rebreather mask. Generally my breathing was reasonably relaxed while wearing it, if I needed to breathe fresh air my nostril holes allowed for that, and in the spirit of things and knowing Mistress wanted me to get the full rubber flavour of the experience, I tried to continually use the bags. No surreptitious sniffs from the nose, just a genuine attempt to please my Mistress by using the bags to their maximum.

However, the full double rebreathing experience happened whenever Mistress moved in close, using a clamp on my nostrils and placing her fingers over the safety holes, her actions resulting in a very pleasant pair of full airbags. I always wondered what a rubber covered hamster with a mouth full of nuts looked like. Well I have a good idea now! Of course I had no such problems with my nuts as they were safely secured in the ring of the body harness.

Not quite finished with the air intakes, Mistress fitted me with one of her Russian gas masks, a ‘monkey mask’ I think. It had small eyes and was Russian looking! I was also given headphones and the familiar hiss drowned out all other sound. I could see Mistress through the small apertures and her beautiful mouth was moving, so I knew she was attempting to communicate but ... hisssssss drowned it all out. I was also connected to the clinics’ gas station with a gas mask hose and was soon receiving some welcome puffs of aroma, but sadly the Russian mask was short lived because it put too much pressure on the bridge of my nose and I had to beg to have it removed. It wasn’t a problem, Mistress replaced the mask with the trusty anaesthetic hood, and this time I enjoyed unencumbered aromas and was also reintroduced to Nurse Maggie’s melodic tones as the hissing headphones were omitted.

Returning to her earlier promise that there would be more pee for me later, Maggie lowered the couch in preparation for treating her slave to a second helping. With the drinking tube inserted through my anaesthetic mask the liquid refreshment was allowed to flow and once more I consumed every last drop. Slightly stronger in taste than the first brew with definite highlights of ‘essence of Mistress’ and another enjoyable vintage.

If it wasn't for my feeding tube filling my mouth I’m certain I would have complained about the teasing I had to endure. The frustration of seeing a beautiful woman fondling her latex covered breasts, suggestively aiming them into my field of vision and doing the same with the piss bladder really shows the sadistic side of my Mistress. With my arms firmly attached to the couch and wrists manacled, all I could do was keep drinking, stare at Mistress with a frustrated frown and dwell on what a fortunate slave I am.

I did mention that my nuts were safely away, but after an hour or so of very pleasant re-breathing and rehydration it was time to move to the fiery part of my re-acclimatisation, and Maggie would be fully exploiting my nuts in her plans to turn up the heat. My cock and balls were introduced to the electro torture board, a device designed and created by Maggie and her husband and which would serve equally well as an effective electric grill! Sometimes I wonder how they both have such a flair for the unusual!

Actually, no regrets whatsoever. Their many innovative and unique creations are always of 'interest' to this slave and I really welcome their inventiveness. The torture board allows for electrodes to be attached to your cock and balls in many combinations, to produce varying stimuli whist simultaneously being compressed, but first you have to be fitted to the board. The bottom and top plates both fit easily, making a sandwich out of your vulnerable bits. Wing nuts and bolts are then added and tightened. When Mistress started tightening the wing nuts I knew something 'special' was about to happen. I was asked if the pressure was acceptable and was instructed to let Mistress know when my balls started feeling uncomfortably compressed. At that point Maggie stopped her nut turning, or halted may be a more accurate word, as once I had acclimatised a couple more turns were inevitable.

Reattached to the gas station I was being pumped with aromas again and it was time for Mistress Maggie to turn on her electric circuitry. The sensations across my groin were absolutely spectacular. My balls felt as though they were being squeezed and released. A similar sensation to when Maggie had tightened the wing nuts, but repeating in a constant cycle; squeeze, release, squeeze, release. . . I am not sure why, but when the compressed feeling in my balls was coupled with a variable throb along the length of my shaft the result was . . . unusual! Both electric sensations on their own were wonderful, but when you combine cock and balls you don’t know if you are coming or going.

My only regret is that I had to ask for the gas mask to be removed. If Mistress allows me to repeat the experience, I will ensure that it is more comfortably placed and not over the bridge of my nose and for that I apologise if I have spoiled her enjoyment. I really would like to thank Mistress Maggie for. . . well just being a beautiful Mistress who does look after her slaves and I know I am a really fortunate to be one.

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.