Still a Long Way to go

Just when I thought I was becoming adequately trained, at least in the opening ceremony of footwear worship, Mistress Maggie threw in a curved ball to disperse any complacency that may have been building. The moment I entered the door to her Chambers I was put on a lead, and I followed Mistresses glorious latex covered bottom up the stairs to arrive in the Playroom; nothing unusual there, but then Maggie guided me fully clothed to the floor and I was told to start footwear worship immediately. Maggie has a new pair of black shiny boots that go all the way to the middle of her thighs and they were definitely well worshipped by this happy slave.

’Drop your pants and over the chair slave’, where I was told I would receive three thwacks of the trident paddle. ‘To satisfy your curiosity slave’. I had seen this implement in one of Maggie's twitter feeds where she had administered 30+ strokes to a willing recipient. After 3 strokes my backside knew it had been well belted, leaving me with full admiration for the recipient of the 30+ strokes. I would have taken my hat of to him there and then if I had been wearing one.

Just as I was expecting to be sent off to the bathroom to change into my usual session uniform, Maggie threw in another curved ball by instructing me to get undressed and get into my rubber catsuit there in the Playroom, but not until I had received a hard slap on my face. ‘A friend asked me to do that’, smiled Maggie sweetly!

Now that I had been wakened up properly we moved on to the real meat of the session. Mistress told me I had been far too greedy with my consumption of aromas over the last few months, and that I would be sniffing something else today while revisiting the basics of breath play. Whilst I was sitting relaxed on the circular stool enjoying a few quiet moments in the presence of a beautiful woman, Mistress quietly and efficiently set about securing my hands tightly across my stomach. The bindings were so effective that I really couldn't move my hands in any direction and certainly not reach my nipples let alone my face.

With the rope work done, my neck was trapped in the padded stocks, which in turn were firmly attached to the suspension gantry. Some minor height adjustment was completed and I was so comfy that... hold that thought as I heard the familiar rustle of the polythene bag.

Undoubtedly I would end up with my head inside it and I could look forward to a few moments of being once more reliant on Maggie for air. However, this looked a little more serious as the stocks were opened and then closed round the bag, gripping it tightly round my neck. I have to admit I was worried when I heard the lock click in place. It looked like I was about to enjoy some s-e-r-i-o-u-s breath control. I had no escape, I was trapped inside the bag with the air slowly becoming stale.

As I begged for air I gazed at my beautiful captor and my only hope of release, but unusually she did not respond to my pleas, at least not immediately, instead I lost sight of her as she moved round the side of my steamy plastic prison and I did panic a little. Though I was unable to see her, Mistress took a huge lungful of air and blew into one of the two purpose built air vents she had cleverly constructed yesterday. Repeating the life giving infusion several times, I relaxed and accepted that I was totally dependent on my Mistresses second hand air. It is the situation I love as I trust my Mistress implicitly and I hoped she felt that I was worth receiving her air otherwise...

This wasn't just isolated breath control, this was designed to have me totally air dependent for thirty plus minutes. All the while, Maggie teased me by coming so close with her lips just when I needed more puff. Another dilemma, I would love to have been kissed, even through the steamy plastic, but Maggie cleverly left that moment until I was really begging for more air.

After perhaps two dozen life giving infusions Mistress was satisfied that my over indulgence in aromas had been balanced by this prolonged period of basic breath control. Finally I was released from the stocks. At that point I was so utterly and completely devoted to my Mistress, I felt nothing but happiness and totally at peace with my situation.

More basic elements were to be reinforced with our next exercise as Maggie announced that my nipples had also been somewhat neglected along with the breath play.

Fortunately Mistress can be kind to her slaves and now allowed me a few whiffs of aroma, to slightly ease the discomfort before starting on the nipples. My wrists were still pinioned but the aromas started to have the desired effect and Mistress knew I would not complain (well hardly complain) as first the left and then the right nipple were warmed up.

Oh boy, do we need to do more work on my nipples!

Tweezer clamps with a small weighted load were attached to each one, but two minutes later both fell off, it was like deja vu, first the left then the right. Mistress likened my nipples to lumps of lard. The next attempt was to try and secure the clamps behind surgical needles to see if they would stop them sliding off. Nope! - that didn't help and the thought that my nipples were actually made of lard started to concern me. There was only one thing for it, the trusty clover clamps.

These bloody hurt and to reinforce their effectiveness Mistress had me kneel on all fours with the clamps dangling beneath. Mistress was having fun and to enhance my enjoyment a string of four anal beads were rudely and quickly stuffed up my bum.

With the lead reattached, Maggie guided me next door and had me stand to attention with the crop in my mouth as she changed into her piss pants. I couldn't look down but I could hear as Maggie described exactly what she was doing. She certainly seemed pleased about how her piss pants looked with the new thigh boots.

Shortly after, both the clover clamps gave up the ghost and the lard finally shed even these most gripping of clamps. I do have a pair of suction nipple pumps at home and we agreed that I desperately need to practice at least once each week to de-lard the buds.

The last and final part of this session is definitely not remedial training, nor is it a punishment. I consider myself very fortunate that Mistress allows me every opportunity to consume her juices, using many and varied methods she encourages and makes her slave quench his thirst. On this occasion an inflatable, breathe through gag would become my drinking tube, and with the nipple clamps applied again my mouth was agonisingly opened ready to have the gag inserted. Not much use currently as a breath through, but excellent to feed through and Mistress did make sure the nose holes were clear for me to breathe.

I eagerly consumed every offered drop, but the flow seemed to be never ending. I watched as the level in the reservoir went down with each suck on the drinking tube, only to see and hear Mistress let loose another torrent of her precious fluids. There is something really erotic and sexually stimulating to watch and hear your Mistress peeing and then to consume the warm fresh urine. A definite treat.

Meanwhile, at the back of my mind a mischievous plan was being hatched. Once I had completely drained my drink I was hoping to blow back down the tube and inflate the piss pants around Mistress private parts, but had to settle with just licking my lips! I think Mistress knows this slave well enough to read my mind, because the second I heard the final slurp the flow was disconnected and I didn’t have the chance to try and inflate her.

Today, I have been subjected to extended breath play reliant wholly on my Mistresses air, had my nipples clamped and pierced and finally had the luxury of emptying Mistress Maggie's bladder down my throat. It was another truly remarkable session and I know I am owned by the most spectacular and beautiful Mistress I could ever have wished for, but I also know that in my aim to serve her every pleasure and requirement I still have a long road to travel.

Thank you Mistress.

WARNING: This 3min 52 sec breathplay clip has audio.

Oh, I'm an Alien

Oh, I'm an alien, 

I'm a legal alien 

I'm a Yorkshire man in... 

Mistress Maggie's Chambers in Preston.

I know it doesn't fit the Sting song but it was a helluva lot of fun being treated as an alien by Mistress and her attempts to return me to my homeland. All will become clear a little later, but to get today’s session started I needed to acquire a new skill set to help look after Maggie's needs.

Mistress prepared me for my training and a butt plug was quickly fitted, in fact that was a bit unusual as Maggie normally requires me to devote myself to shoe or boot worship before having me bend and receive the plug.

However, the command to worship her red shoes did follow and I was down on my knees once again, moving my tongue vigorously along their shiny leather uppers. The style of the shoes meant there was very little for me to clean, and so it was a relatively quick transition to climb into my working catsuit and be zipped inside a comfortable latex slave hood.

I am not normally required to wear my glasses, but on this occasion I was informed I would be undertaking a pedicure and would obviously need to see properly. With a little thought we decided to slide the temples of my glasses through the eye holes in my latex hood. With perfectly secure and well positioned glasses, Mistress guided me, my glasses and a manicure set towards the clinic.

Arranging herself on the couch Mistress slipped off her latex stockings and put her legs into the stirrups. Pedicuring her feet was pretty easy because Mistress does a fabulous job of looking after them, and I have had the privilege of doing her pedicure on a few occasions already and been trained to know what is required. A tiny bit of work with an emery board and once more they were beautifully smooth and Maggie was satisfied.

No problems there then, but painting my Mistresses toe nails - that did pose a problem, as I had never undertaken any nail painting ever. Mistress didn't help this poor slave one iota. The red paint was going on and I was progressing reasonably well on one leg, but when I started on the other, I raised her left leg into the other couch stirrup to be confronted with the most beautifully erotic sight ever.

Mistress was naked under her latex skirt and I was getting an eyeful of her perfect private parts, complete with delicate silver ring exactly in the centre of where a slave never goes. I soldiered on trying not to gaze at the most beautiful of mounds and, even though I say so myself, I did a passable paint job under extreme provocative circumstances.

Mistress wasn't finished teasing her devoted slave, with her painted toe nails still quite wet she tiptoed hurriedly towards the bathroom with me in tow, saying that she needed to pee I would serve as a suitable receptacle for her. Perched on the edge of the toilet bowl with my head back over the pan and mouth wide open, I patiently waited to receive a glorious infusion.

Mistress took her place and liquid began trickling into my mouth, and apart from a few initial drops landing on my chin, that’s where the majority fell. I was in such close proximity to that little silver ring, yet trained to know and concentrate on catching as much refreshment as possible and definitely avoid any physical contact.

With my thirst quenched and back in the playroom I was hung out to dry. Not really, but I did stand with hands clasping the overhead as Mistress wound several layers of cling film tightly round my torso and down to my knees, then lowering my arms to my side more layers of film were applied leaving my arms and hands firmly clamped down. I couldn't really see what use a pinioned slave would be to Mistress as she led me back to the clinic and carried on winding the clingfilm round me until my whole body was covered. Mistress took care positioning me down the centre of the couch, and as if I was not bound up enough already she then strapped me down.

Maggie whispered that I looked like an alien and to her amusement I said I was from planet Yorkshire.

I don't know why I said that apart from the fact that I am, but what followed was an impromptu role play whereby Nurse Maggie would help me return to my home world! I wasn't at all surprised when she indicated I was going to get a space helmet to help me on my journey, and I was soon enjoying breathing on the rarefied air inside an inflatable plastic hood. I was starting to warm to Mistresses little role play, mostly because it included getting loads of attention from my beautiful alien captor.

I have to admit that the sight of me wrapped in plastic with my plastic hood would do nothing to dissuade any impartial observers in planet Preston that Maggie, had, in fact captured an alien!

Mistress was intent on familiarising her alien with some words which are frequently used on Planet Preston while I waited to be reunited with my species. You try repeating the words rubber and latex correctly when your mouth is full of breathing tube. I did feel rather stupid as all I could manage was ‘lubber’ and ‘ratex’ before Mistress believed I needed more atmospheric exposure and fixed me inside a gas mask with aroma tube attached.

The elongated pump tube she was using meant that Maggie could dispense poppers from anywhere in the Clinic, and after several good lungfuls I was very, very relaxed and docile. That was a brilliant place to be in, because Maggie decided that we needed an antennae to help us communicate with Yorkshire and set about creating one, using my cock and balls as her construction base.

Snip, snip snip with her scissors and my cock sprang free from its plastic confines. With everything nicely sterilised, Maggie set about hooking lines to various bits. It was the least intrusive operation that I had experienced with Maggie. ‘After three slave , 1,2,3…’ Only a little prick with each hook that was inserted.

I couldn't help it, but as the first hook was pushed through my flesh I asked Mistress to stop for a moment and I think I orgasmed. Not explosive but more of a gentle, warm feeling. The feeling passed after a moment and I asked Mistress if she could possibly carry on, which she did. I put it down to the whole array of erotic experiences that had just gone, and in any event I felt fine and really couldn't miss the rest of this exciting journey.

More aromas, more piercings, eight in total and then Mistress played around with the positioning of the cords attached to the hooks, until she was happy that she had created a suitable aerial to help her alien to be located by his people.

By this stage all I felt was complete and utter dependence and devotion to my Mistress. I hardly felt any pain with the piercing and Maggie could have done whatever she wanted and I would still have been deliriously happy.

Mistress brought her electric box out, attached four electrodes to my outstretched genitals and flicked on the transmitter. With each subsequent, gradual increase in power I felt sufficiently relaxed to quip 'Almost there, Radio Cleveland coming … ‘, then with a further increase in power I could report ‘tuned to radio Whitby ...’, then after a few more ‘receiving radio Bridlington’ and as the dial slowly increased to level 25, I was screeching that ‘I can see Planet Yorkshire !!!!’ .

It was either that or pleading with my laughing Mistress that at that power I was literally about to take off!

I don't think the Yorkshire alien role play was planned, but once started Maggie improvised brilliantly and that in turn egged me on to become that alien character. It was only at level 25 when the aromas had been pushed to their limits that I had any doubts about where Maggie had taken us during this incredible session. The needle play, plastic and electro play were all planned but it was a real joy how the journey developed.

Maggie summed up the whole session brilliantly. ‘A mad but very enjoyable session.’

Thank you Mistress Maggie.

Too Much Latex?

Mistress Maggie's calling mail yesterday had been short and sweet. ‘Your rubber Mistress hopes to prove whether having too much rubber is fact or fiction’.

It sounded like a lot of rubber fun was about to happen and that certainly was the case. I am not sure if by the end of the session Maggie had proved or disproved her hypothesis, but I do know it was heavenly attempting to find the answer. Red thigh high boots, red latex catsuit, teasing black latex bra provocatively accentuating a pair of magnificent breasts. . . I am of course referring to my stunning Mistress not me. Dressed in her skintight latex, Mistress instructed me to change into just my latex socks and gloves, and I hurriedly dressed to her liking before returning to the room and dropped on my knees gazing lovingly at her long shiny boots. ‘Kisses only, to both boots slave. No licking!’.

Only when I had completed the boot worship, kisses only of course, did I find out the reason for her 'no licking' instruction, as Mistress had other plans for my eager tongue today. Mistress allowed me a further rubber item in the form of a hood, then standing up, she slowly slid open her crotch zip, being very careful about what was exposed, and I was invited to get in there and lick clean her bottom. I haven't been allowed this privilege for quite a while and as she reclined across her throne, I positioned myself behind her, between her legs and ever so carefully made my way into the valley between those perfect cheeks.

It is warm and dark in the valley, with only Maggie’s slight movements occasionally letting in sufficient light for me to wonder at the perfectly round, slightly puckered little bud that was my Mistresses anal opening and the target for my devotion. Care was needed, because feeling around in the dark with my tongue could oh so easily result in straying into the forbidden zone. It was an excellent treat and Mistresses beautiful bottom ended up equally beautifully cleaned.

I was then told to lay face down on the luxurious latex bed, which for a brief moment took me back to the calling mail and the idea of too much latex. It was only the briefest of dreamy thoughts as I was soon awakened from my fantasizing when the first of many lashes landed fairly and squarely across my shoulders and brought me back to reality. For the next few minutes I was subjected to a sound thrashing across my buttocks, back and crack, and without complaint I laid there, still, until it was over. However, I had three things secretly working on my behalf to help me accept the lashing.

The first was the aromas that Mistress had allowed me to consume. The second was the butt plug; the small and extra piece of rubber that gave my butt cheeks something to bite on, and the third and most important, was Maggie wanted to thrash her slave and I think it did her a power of good.

I even enjoyed watching Maggie's arm from the corner of my eye, hearing the familiar swish and absorbing the pain. I know Maggie wasn't delivering at full force but she was giving the whip some air, and I probably shouldn't admit it but I was pleased that Mistress saw fit to let out some of her frustrations on the flesh of her almost naked slave.

It was then the easiest climb into my working latex catsuit. A good dose of talc and I was able to slide ever so easily inside and even had it zipped all the way up before Maggie had finished sipping her water. We were both relaxed, well I know I was, and we moved quietly into the Clinic but only for a short sojourn. Mistress did not want her research interrupted by a slave whining for a loo visit, and therefore a catheter must be installed for the remainder of the session.

A catheter insertion has become pretty routine and while it was being done we chatted about the first time she had me wear one. Meticulously reading each stage of the instructions and following them to the letter. That insertion was incredible but took Mistress a little time with checking and double checking, whereas now it is like second nature. Still the same adherence to strict hygiene and safety but such a quick and easy treatment now.

Lying down there on the medical couch I rarely catch a glimpse of what is happening down below, I have so often asked ‘Is it in Mistress?’. Today Maggie had come up with an unexpected treat for her slave and thoughtfully provided me with a pair of prism glasses, which allowed me to see the whole procedure from start to finish over my rotund stomach. Despite being securely strapped to the couch, I was able to raise my head a little and watch through the prisms as Maggie completed her work and finally strapped a rubber catheter bag to my thigh to catch my pee. A glass of water was also proffered to my zippered lips, to get the juices flowing and everything draining as it should. The familiar slosh slosh from the bag satisfied Mistress that the draining was already ongoing and after only a few moments in the Clinic me and my cath bag were escorted back to the Playroom.

On our return the luxury bondage bed was waiting with its quilt folded back. I was told to lay down on it and maybe for some considerable  time, because my ankles were being attached to the footboard and my wrists to the head of the bed.

Mistress wasn't entirely happy with my arms poking out at the top and changing her mind she hurried to retrieve a spreader bar. I have learnt a few slave skills, one of which I used to help my Mistress: by raising my buttocks Mistress could slide the bar underneath me and hold my wrists down by my sides, the bar could then be attached to the footboard ensuring that I was pinioned. Maggie’s inventiveness had the desired effect, her bondage was most comfortable and my cock and balls were next to feel her attention.

More rubber arrived and Mistress stretched a ball bag and matching penis sheath around my genitals. She had obviously planned for the catheter and went on to draw the catheters’ tube through the hole at the tip of the sheath. I was allowed more aroma inhalation and this had an amazing effect, with each breath sending me deeper and deeper under her spell.

I vaguely remember Mistress promising me more bedtime medicine to follow once I was nicely tucked up. The rubber quilt was now being rolled up over me and I began to understand why my hands were secured the way they were. The quilt could be rolled up to cover my head to engulf me in total darkness as my breathing hoses were long enough to be kept well out of harms way.

Sitting comfortably at my bedside Mistress started to read the third installment of a story from the Dressing For Pleasure magazine, accompanied by lots of rubbery strokes and more of her aromatic medicine to send her slave off to sleep.

With the bedtime story finished I was tucked up properly in the bed. Even with the quilt covering my eyes, black as the darkest night, I could still see the image of my beautiful Mistress as clear as day. It felt so warm, safe and peaceful in bed that I don't know if, after a while, I drifted off to sleep, but I do remember the contents of the story and that at some point Mistress had climbed under the rubber quilt alongside me and snuggled next to me for a few minutes, granting me quite a few very gentle caresses.

And for a final treat, after a very taxing session, in reality it was incredibly relaxing for me at any rate, Maggie prepared the refreshing and medicinal drink she had promised me to aid a good night's sleep. I lay, or perhaps a more accurate description of my current state, floated there on and under a rubbery cloud as I watched Mistress firstly hang a feeding funnel above me and partially fill it with her juices. What an end to a most erotic and sensual session. I was relaxed and had hardly raised a sweat but the re-hydrating fluid was eagerly accepted and consumed.

The question raised, ... to prove whether having too much rubber is fact or fiction remains and may never be answered. I may regret this as well but we were nowhere near to me having to much rubber. I suppose I would need to be pleading for less rubber, to pass out or die of heat stroke for that to be a fact!. The latter is impossible as Maggie takes far to much care of her charges. The middle one is possible but unlikely as I may faint with the heat, and we shall see about me pleading for less rubber. Unlikely too!

WARNING: This 45 second clip has audio

Thank you Mistress Maggie for another outstanding training session and I apologize for not providing an answer to your hypothesis.

Ultimate Chastity

I am a very lucky slave. For the past eight years Mistress Maggie has taken me under her wing and I am really happy that she knows she has the freedom to do whatever she wishes to her devoted rubber slave. Part of a promise I made to Maggie was To willingly do whatever Mistress asks, immediately and without question and I have every intention of honouring this promise. After 174 sessions there are certain tasks that I can perform without instruction. I know how to worship Mistresses footwear. I know when to lift my bum when zips need opening, I know when to tense muscles to assist Maggie when she is adjusting straps etc, however, when it comes to the overall flow of a session I listen attentively and follow instruction implicitly. After all, Mistress spends a lot of her pre-session time planning and preparing her sessions and I owe it to her not to cock it up through inattentiveness.

I had a strange, almost unreal hypnogogic experience whilst undertaking my boot worship duty. There I was quite happily kissing and worshipping those rather nice white boots with Maggie’s flogger sensually caressing my latex rump, and as Mistress gently rested her other boot on my back as a footstool I felt totally at peace, as though that was exactly where I wanted and needed to be. Following that out of body experience I was so deeply in the zone and the session got better and better as Mistress proceeded with her plans.

For today's entertainment my costume was lighter than my normal full latex catsuit. I had been asked to bring my zip through latex shorts and those, together with latex socks and gloves were to be the dress code for the day. With me ordered into a crouching position it was not long before the zip was being peeled open to allow my red butt plug to be inserted and sealed in. A double fronted white latex hood completed my costume leaving me viewing the world through small eye perforations and speaking through a zipped up mouth opening. That became my face for the whole session and it was the very last item that Mistress removed at the end. I do find the hood comfortable and easy to wear and of course very versatile with its all enclosing zip up face cover.

We both followed the huge strap-on that Mistress was flaunting into the Clinic, and I had a good idea where that would end up! On entering, two prominent pillar box red items were immediately apparent on the couch. The first was the latex arm binder top which I have been teased into before, but the second was a brand new and very interesting head restraint, it looked like it could do a good job of stopping any head movement and the kind of restraint I have fantasised about.

On occasions my generous girth does cause problems and the last time I wore the arm binder it was tricky fitting me into it. However, we had learned from that experience and this time came up with a much easier approach. Engage the back zip for a few inches prior to attempting to put it on, then step into it like a skirt and hey ho! It was far easier for Mistress to pull the zip all the way up and seal me in with no chance of escape. I do like that feeling and allowed myself another wry smile when Mistress asked if it was warm enough in The Clinic. My experience warned me that it was going to get a whole lot warmer before the end so I replied with a simple. ‘Yes it's warm enough thank you.’

I laid back straight into the neck brace and the straps ensured that was exactly where my head would remain. It felt like my head was in a vice and just to make sure that her patient was truly immobilized, Mistress made her way around the couch, visiting each of its restraining straps and tightening them to their maximum. Legs placed comfortably in the stirrups and strapped in place as well.

It is at times like these when you know you are in the hands of an expert who puts a lot of thought and planning into all her activities. In normal use the neck brace would be attached rigidly to a stretcher. However, Maggie wanted to make the most of the chairs flexibility by lifting and changing the orientation of her patient for her operations. If you alter the inclination, the subject moves a little in the chair to accommodate the new angles, but here Maggie's innovative approach was evident. The head brace had been suitably fixed with the ability to slide along the chair back whilst still keeping the head rigidly attached to the chair. That was pure genius.

The only issue I had with all this rigidity and chair movement was the reduced visibility of my Mistress through the small eye perforations. Maggie knows how I love to see her occasionally during operations and every now and then went out of her way so that I could get just a glimpse of my thoughtful owner.

After a few adjustments to the double fronted hood, Maggie was satisfied she could effectively deploy aromas with her anaesthetic setup which included a one litre rebreather bag to monitor my progress. Long, slow breaths in, breathe out. In, out, in out... after several lungfuls I was feeling even more in that wonderful head space where all I could think about was my stunning Mistress and how I could please her.

As my breathing settled to a steady rhythm the sound of my own breaths became very relaxing and the rebreather was filling up and emptying as it should. Although definitely not an anaesthetic, the aromas have a wonderfully calming and relaxing effect and in particular I could feel my sphincter loosening up ready for what I knew I was about to receive. I was so chilled with the situation, I just lay there in my very happy latex covered world as Mistress slid the zip in my shorts open and started to swab my cock, balls and groin with disinfectant.

A superbly executed example of a mangina

The aromas had certainly done their job to the extent that I hardly felt the first staple being pinged into my scrotum. More pulling and pushing and adjusting the flesh down there and another staple and another and ... I lost count but it is strange what I imagined my cock and balls would look like. My imagination said these staples were all over the place and that the area would look disjointed. How wrong your imagination can be. I should have known better with an expert in charge. Perhaps it was the aroma therapy that clouded my imagination?

Instead, a pure masterpiece of a mangina had been created. Straight, even staples, a very neat line where my manhood used to be and above all no pain whatsoever. I don't think I flinched once, perhaps the occasional sharper intake of breath, but all in all and with Maggie’s words of encouragement, a perfect operation was completed.

I tried to flex my cock because it felt so excited by the stapling, but nothing moved. I tried again and I didn't even have room for a little twitch which was incredibly frustrating because in my mind I really needed to explode. Perhaps Maggie has finally arrived at the situation where I am unable to embarrass myself by unauthorised ejaculations! I felt so useless as a man yet so deliriously happy that my Mistress had wanted us to undertake this journey and had successfully arrived. Oh happy slave.

What happened next is probably the most exciting and exhilarating yet frustrating 25 minutes of high octane ass play I have experienced. First of all the electro dildo that Maggie used vigorously. In. Out. in out... all the time tweaking the dials so I received the maximum stimulus. I was told that I had a lot of arse stretching to enjoy in view of what was about to be inserted up my rectum. In, out, in out stretch it all about was the order, and of course, all the while my cock and balls were being agitated from inside my body making me more and more frustrated as the useless bits were no longer able to respond.

For a little added stimulus, Mistress kindly? added electrodes along the staples on the second e-stim channel and continued with the in out delights of the electro dildo. Maggie's aim was to open me up for the next part of my anal experience. I was about to be introduced to the best fuck yet. Although I believe Mistress’ really thick strap-on did get its tip up my hole, my unwilling body wouldn't let it climb in to its full length. Undeterred, Maggie quickly exchanged the huge invader for a slightly lesser size and set about riding her charge.

Wow! After having felt at home being Maggie's foot stool earlier, I now felt completely at one with my owner occupying my newly bored most intimate orifice. I was her plaything, her sex toy and I felt relaxed and in exactly the right place at the right time.

After such a good stretching Maggie thought I may be ready to have a go at the next phase of anal training. It is our goal to get her gloved hand inside me and I was asked if I wished to proceed. Another no brainer, I was well under the influence, well relaxed and raring to try for her fist. Maggie has special Crisco cream for such occasions and greased her new glove with a good handful and I could feel her fist was almost in. With hindsight I really wish I had braced a little more and encouraged Maggie to push a little more because I feel that I was millimetres away from becoming Maggie's glove puppet. Almost but not quite. Mistress did say that we were almost there and progress had definitely been made.

I wonder what it would feel like to be zipped inside my rubber suit once the mangina was completed? I wonder what it will feel like when Mistress does manage to insert her hand up my arse? I wonder what other extreme delights Maggie has in store for one of her most adoring and faithful slaves? I do know with absolute certainty that I will do what I promised for my imaginative, talented and occasionally sadistic (yes it was sadistic to staple up my cock and balls then tell me to try to orgasm 'like a woman') Mistress.

I can also confirm that once the staples were removed my cock and balls returned to normal functionality and later I was able to finally relieve some of that pent up tension that Mistress Maggie always generates in this slave. Today was truly memorable, thank you Maggie.

WARNING: This 3 minute clip has audio

Bronze Age Slave

I suspect there may be the odd raised eyebrow when I say that once again another Friday the 13th session had been arranged with Mistress Maggie. Unlike some people I do not suffer from triskaidekaphobia, in fact I have no qualms about the number 13 whatsoever. I love my Friday sessions with Mistress and have done since I took my first steps into her Chambers. I remember my routine then; at the end of the working week, leave work at lunchtime, stop in at the services on the M61, have a shower and tidy up to look presentable for my Mistress then make my way to the Chambers at exactly 14:30. Statistically, because I love Friday sessions and have a need to attend regularly, the chances of sessions on Friday 13th are at worst 50:50 and on the many occasions when they have occurred, I have found them nothing but pure pleasure and delight.

Today was more memorable than just another Friday 13th. It has been eight years this month, almost to the day, since that first journey down the Motorway and Maggie wanted to celebrate our achievement with a bottle of bubbly. It was not the first celebratory day that Maggie had had this week, as by coincidence another of her lucky acolytes had celebrated his 8 years of servitude yesterday with a similar toast. I am highly unlikely to meet the fortunate fellow as Maggie is incredibly discreet, but if you are reading this, I do salute your fortunate introduction to the best of the best.

Our jamboree got underway as soon as the door to the Chambers gently closed behind me. Mistress attached her lead to my slave collar and pressed an aroma soaked cloth over my airways with instructions to ‘Inhale. Deeply’. An unexpected and very pleasant introduction that had me heading to heaven even before ascending the stairway. I could feel myself relaxing and once more starting my journey into total and complete adoration and obedience. It produced a far more erotic ascent as I followed Maggie’s wonderful latex skinned derrière up the stairs. Whether it was the aromas or the fact that I simply had the most beautiful latex rear inches from my face, but I really wanted to plant a big kiss on her inviting cheeks, however Maggie did not offer me that opportunity and continued walking, slowly and steadily leading me to the Playroom.

Still in all my outdoor clothes I was told to lie on the bed until Mistress returned, which allowed me the pleasure of admiring Maggie's new latex quilt and I was left there in luxurious latex comfort, bemused yet happy as she left the room. Mistress soon reappeared with what I now know was the ice bucket and bubbly. After some questions about the contents of my perv bag I was told that I should be wearing a lot of latex and was given two minutes to present a fully rubbered version of myself, and be ready to worship Mistresses satin boots. I know I took a little longer than two minutes, but not too much longer. It was a compromise between the time and needing to present myself in an acceptable fashion to my Mistress.

Standing up with my arms outstretched I was buffed up and brought to a high polish by Maggie and her Mr Sheen, then down on my knees to complete the obligatory worship of Mistress’ tiny pixie styled boots.

There are certain other essential procedures that Mistress likes to perform on her slave and the first is to fill one of my orifices by inserting a plug. Delving into my perv bag I hunted for my butt plug. Being in a very relaxed and somewhat flippant mood I extracted the plug with a flourish and flamboyant gesture similar to a Harry Potter spell. I chanted ‘Insertio buttpluggio!!!’ That amused Mistress, and though her plan was to open me up first with something a bit larger, ultimately 'Insertio buttpluggio' resulted in my trusty red plug ending up in its natural home.

I can be pretty useless as a slave but on this occasion I managed to bring a surprised smile to my owners beautiful lips. Maggie's voice had a troubled tone as she invited me to open the bubbly. ‘Be very careful, don’t let the cork shoot out . . . don’t  make another hole in my ceiling . . . !’ Her concern was very understandable, as looking up I could see a sizeable patched up hole in the ceiling, made by a roofers boot who had accidentally slipped and put his foot through it during recent renovations to the Chambers. Better hold onto that cork then!

Luckily I have learned the knack for such occasions and have found that by removing the foil and placing the palm of my hand firmly over the top of the cork, unravelling the metal fastening and then gently rotating the cork while keeping very firm pressure on my palm, rather than shooting out it eases out with the gentlest of hisses as the gas seeks its own freedom. A barely audible sound and et voila! - one very pleased, relieved and somewhat surprised Mistress.

I can think of no better way of celebrating a marvellous event than bringing a surprised smile to my Mistress, sipping bubbly, smiling and laughing with a very beautiful, latex clad rubber goddess. I was only allowed one flute as I drive to Chambers and Maggie is always looking after her slaves' welfare, similarly Mistress only had one, as she remains in full control in more ways than one throughout our training.

I would never have dreamt of one day being a bronze age slave, however, the traditional name for an 8th anniversary is a bronze anniversary, where bronze represents strength and durability. Well, I had just managed to demonstrate to my bronze age Mistress that I had both of those attributes by proudly opening the champagne without the cork exploding.

It appeared as though my drinking bout was only just beginning, as the rubber ruff from the toilet seat was attached round my neck and I was ordered to slide underneath the toilet box. It was then only a short procedure to connect my rubber collar to the perspex seat, attach wrist cuffs to the toilet box legs and I was ready to receive whatever Mistress wished to deposit in my direction.

I lay there very comfortable, the neck collar providing a wonderful support, along with a superb view as Mistress with her swaying ponytails looked down the pan at her waiting toilet slave. Her hand reached down and pressed an anaesthetic mask loaded with an intoxicating dose of aromas, tightly over my face. As I drifted deeper into my very aroused pleasure zone I could hear Mistress unzip her crotch zip and the room went darker as the most glorious image started to eclipse the rest of the world. From thereon all I could concentrate on was trying to line up my mouth with where I anticipated the steady flow of nectar would be delivered.

Being so close to Mistresses private parts I must remember to know my place. Definitely do not get any closer to that beautiful area, just gaze and wait for her champagne. I didn't have long to wait before the first few droplets became visible in the half light of the toilet bowl. I adjusted, took my mouthful and swallowed. Mistress knows this slaves drinking habits and as if by magic the flow stopped as she waited to hear me swallow and then another gentle trickle, another mouthful and so it went on for several delightful mouthfuls of a much tastier celebratory drink.

I am not sure if the next mouthful was by design and Mistress was just wanting to teach her slave what a tsunami of fresh nectar was like, but instead of turning the tap off when I closed my lips to swallow, the flow just kept coming and coming. Coughing, spluttering, quickly opening my mouth and swallowing, I tried all ways but I couldn't keep pace with the flow. A few more gallons would have definitely had me drowning in Mistresses fluids. Come to think of it, there are far worse ways to go.

Maggie stood up, tidied her zips and smiled down at a very pee soaked toilet slave, saying ‘Wow, I feel much better now’ and I must admit, so did I. That wasn't quite the end of my drinking celebrations though, as taking another sip from her bubbly Maggie chose to share her drink and aimed her flute so the stream tipped into my open mouth. Some of the bubbly cascaded down my saturated hood and settled in my ears. Whether it is a normal reaction when bubbly meets pee I am really not sure, but all I could hear was a cacophony of bubbly sounds as the bubbles mixed with the nectar. That is an experience I definitely would like to repeat, perhaps at session 200 or our 9 year celebrations if Mistress allows me to continue for that long or any time Mistress wishes to flush out her bladder on a very willing toilet.

I was allowed out of the chamberpot feeling incredibly happy and a little flushed and we cleaned up myself and any spills. I was then bent over to have my butt plug replaced with an inflatable buzzing one, it’s vibrations were steady and continuous, working away deep inside and relentlessly building up more tensions in my lower groin area.

Firmly shackled to the four corners of the bed, Maggie considered it the appropriate opportunity to further celebrate this Bronze Age by deploying her trusty e-stim box. Four electrodes were arranged on my cock and balls and the pulses set to a rhythmic, pulsating twenty on the dial. You can probably guess the next part. I muttered a warning but whether it was lost in the gas mask or Mistress decided it would be fun just to leave the vibrations and pulsations running, nevertheless I was once again forced to ejaculate.

Leaning over me, Mistress either feigned or actually was angry, as a punishment she said she would increase the electrics by the eight years I had been in service. Now that really cleared my sinuses. Just as promised Mistress switched up the power and left me to be punished. I have never experienced such intense sensations and I am pleased that the shackles were more than a match for a slave writhing in agony. I was screaming, begging for mercy and thrashing around like a man possessed. In a way that is exactly what I was. Possessed by the most magnificent person you could wish to be electrocuted by. The gas mask of course muffled the screams and sobs down to mere whimpers but it did sound very loud from inside the mask. I wonder if my balls turned bronze with the e-stim set to 28? .

I loved every minute, bar perhaps those final two! And no, I wouldn't ask for any of it to be changed. I deserved the punishment but I think next time I will try to make sure my balls are empty before arriving to serve my Mistress Maggie. That leaves me with a real dilemma. I know Maggie expects to make me orgasm at times but only when she wants it to happen, when Mistress is in control and if I have deliberately emptied my balls...?

Here's to the Leather anniversary!