Had to pull my bitch back into line and let her have a taste of some strictly supervised sissy discipline. This faggot WILL learn that she/it has NO CHOICE...dressing and serving me are her ONLY priorities and this BITCH can beg and moan as much as she/it likes because she/it has NO fucking CHOICE...she/it now knows what it is to be OWNED and there's no going back for her/it now...there will be NO ESCAPE for this piss soaked whore...

FAGGOT Friday

My day started poorly through my stupidity in not reading through my Masters instructions carefully enough the night before. I forgot that my first piss of the day had to be into my cornflakes. This brazen error was soon corrected and I was then forbidden to use the toilet for the rest of the day. A day off on a Friday is a rare treat for most people and offers time to relax and the opportunity for a long and pleasurable weekend. My Friday free time lies crushed under my Masters total domination...any plans I had for lounging around were destroyed the night before, HIS needs come first.

Having completely failed my first task of the day I slipped out of my baby doll and into something suitably shameful sissy attire. I used to use some of my free time to dress and perfect my sissy display but it's a different sensation slipping on a satin blouse and tight mini skirt because I have been ORDERED to do. Now I must look immaculate not for my useless solo games of fantasy but for my BLACKMAIL Master who absolutely OWNS my sissy ass. ...a fact he never grows tired of stating.

I was given a punishment for the afternoon and was ordered to write out lines in my punishment book. I had to write out by hand:

"I accept my humiliating and deserved punishment"

Fifty times I had to write it out over and over...with each line I penned I felt myself dissolving into yet another realm of submission...a realm of brainwashed bimbo sluts who must now deal with the consequences of their deeply twisted sissy fantasies...forced to suffer all the indignities a sissy craves in a Dante style of just retribution. The sissy who craved blackmail is finally blackmailed....the sissy who yearned to be controlled is finally controlled and left to squirm with delicious regret.

I was ordered to gag myself with a black dildo gag and wear that for the day. I was allowed to remove it to drink only but NO toilet breaks were to be allowed. Beneath my full sissy attire I wear a VERY tight Kim Kardashian waist clincher which helps pressurize my poor bladder. I was then ordered out into my small back garden...broad daylight with neighbours unexpectedly opening doors and work men over the fence chatting loudly...I put a little jacket around my shoulders and picked up my handbag and then spent 20 mins parading around like a truly shameful faggot. Twice I thought I would jump out of my skin as noises and voices kept me flinching and cringing. I have been out there before but today was perhaps the most eventful yet and cringed myself silly. Tottering around in stiletto heels in a tight skirt I minced and flinched until my heart felt as though it was about to explode. It was truly nerve racking but the whole episode had to be photographically recorded.

In writing out my lines I committed another serious error and got the date wrong when I entered the title. My Master was now annoyed for a second time. For this I was ordered to be go to imagefap chatroom and be a webcam room slave from 8.00pm until my Master decided I had enough. Some people laughed at me others encouraged me dance and make blow job faces as I posed. One guy also on camera had a huge brown cock...very well-greased and look like a pillar of polished walnut...he wanted to fuck me with that but it's a long way to Atlanta from where I live.

Finally at about 11.00pm I was allowed to piss...BUT...I was obliged to stand before the camera and piss my panties and black nylons. I soaked my knickers and felt the piss rush down my legs, puddling at my feet. Once I had finished thoroughly wetting myself I knelt over the puddle on the floor and lapped the whole thing up like a disgusting sissy animal. These were my Masters explicit instructions and he told me that I was reflect on the nature of my punishment lines and accept my humiliating and deserved punishment.

A VERY long day for this PISS SOAKED whore

Day 06

I awoke this morning and quite naturally entered my routine of unlocking my hand cuffs and setting up the lap top to record my first piss and drink of the day. In my inbox I found a VERY lengthy list of instructions and assignments all of which had to be completed. Some tasks were specifically timed and others not so but all had to be completed. Among one of the instructions was, after savouring my drink I was to use piss on my cereal and eat it on camera. Needless to say the taste was disgusting...the cereal suddenly tasted like rotten vegetables and stank so much that the smell alone was enough to make me gag. I sloshed the flakes around my mouth rather than crunching on them happily like I would if they were served with milk. Now their flavour was unpalatable and the taste lingered long afterwards.

Swallowing slowly the last horrid swampy tasting mouthful I contemplated my situation once more...my Master I knew would desire to see my disgust and discomfort and I felt obliged to show him my upsetting condition in some detail. Obliged by blackmail yes...my paranoia about what he could or might do works against me....instinct would tell me to withdraw from this situation...but now resistance is replaced by a heavy feeling of responsibility to see my Masters instructions through in order to show my respect, gratitude and thanks for all that he has done for me. For many years I fantasised about situations like this but now to have found someone who not only understands them but who is also happily able to make them all a reality. I am filled with a sense of debt to my Master who has helped and forced me to confront my boundaries and limits and move even further into a subjugated state. My Master has delivered me into a sissy prison from which he will not let me escape and all ways ensuring I understand his power over me. I am his truly subjugated sissy bitch and grovel inwardly at the thought of one day being in his presence to extend my gratitude in person...throwing myself to my knees and thanking him for blackmailing me, for controlling and owning me. I was instructed to wear a badge displaying the tag "I LOVE MY BLACKMAIL BOSS"....and of course I do and wear my badge with pride...as much pride as sissy faggot like me can ever hope to have. Every time reality weighs too much and I begin to panic...the only way to keep myself calm is to tell myself that whatever it that's worrying me...an order he has given etc...does not matter the only thing that matters is doing as I am told, obeying instructions and following orders. Today, for example. the neighbours were roaming around their back garden...I had been ordered out there and so I MUST go...record it on camera and send the pics...there could be no excuses or failure...I had to tell myself over and over again...

"This is what you asked for, this is what you wanted, don't moan, don't complain, get on with it and keep him happy"

I was given another line writing exercise to complete to a deadline and the line read "I begged and pleaded to be owned and controlled and now I am a happy sissy faggot". I was ordered to write it out 50 times and then send copies. I am a happy sissy and my Master has made me very happy indeed. I am so grateful to him and for all the humiliations he visits upon me...I am both happy and grateful.

I am a coward and have no courage but I am able to complete my humiliations using the fear of failing to move me on...get me parading out there, cringing and ducking and trying desperately not to be seen which is simply not possible. I have surrendered all control to my Master and that includes any notion of making decisions for myself...my Master makes the decisions and he decides what I do, eat and wear. I am therefore truly thankful for his attentions and feel the most exhilarating thrill of being at his complete mercy. How often and for so long have I dreamt of being trapped like this and now that I am I find it more spell bindingly exciting than I could ever have imagined. All this is made possible by my Master who now has complete control of everything...yes he likes to taunt and torment me about how much I given up to him, how much information I have surrendered, how my boundaries have been broken and that certain doom is just one click away...and yes I ride high on that regret...on that wave of remorse that rushes through me as I panic once more about just what I have done and what I have now become...having him just mention the consequences of disobedience thrills me deeply. This is only possible because my Master has a refined and unique understanding of the uncompromising nature of my total submission. In this way he has been able to step right through my twisted sissy fantasies and ramblings collecting all as he went and then delivering them to me in such a way as to make my tiny sissy clit...as imprisoned and crushed as it is....twitch and jump with sheer sissy joy.

At 6.00pm I was ordered to suck on a pair of well used knickers that I had previously purchased online from some lady who makes a living from selling used undies to wimps like me. They tasted utterly foul and wretched...like anchovy oil from a tin that's been sat out all day in the sun...along with a bitter vinegar taste that wreaked of of stale urine. I stuffed then into my mouth and gagged on them for nearly a minute before continuing to lick and suck them. The taste could only have originated in the steaming vagina of a woman with very deliberately poor personal hygiene and although over powering at times it reminded me of my heterosexual days and escapades which are no strictly forbidden. I became remorseful as I slid my tongue along the gusset that I might never taste the scent of a real woman any other way from now on and maybe I should have tried harder to be a normal heterosexual male and had more heterosexual sex when I had the chance before disappearing down the long road to sissy submission. Now women are forbidden, sex is forbidden unless it's to use my mouth and ass on cock. I can suck, I can be fucked but that is the extent of my sex life...orgasms are few and masturbation impossible all thanks to my Master who insists I get exactly what a sissy faggot like me deserves. Tonight I was treated to a rare privilege of being instructed to release my clit and stroke it...strictly no ejaculation...but I was still able to nurse my poor sissy clit to a very stiff state.

I was also instructed to log in to a chat room and discuss my situation with others. Sadly hat rooms appear to be full of people who don't really want to chat at all...so sadly no luck there. But I did as ordered which I told myself was the best and most effective thing to do. My submission was now almost instinctive and I followed his instructions carefully and methodically guided by the fear inspired by his power over me. Like some giant monolith his supreme authority towered over me consuming me and imprisoning me in its shadow. Oh the helpless rush of sissy when her phone bleeps or inbox buzzes with words of degradation and orders for humiliation that she cannot ignore at any cost.

The fear has guided me all week allowing me to become the sissy slave I crave. Imagine how hot I can get when I sense my Master might be upset with me and then asserts his grip around my sissy life..."just one click away".

I thank my Master for his honesty when we first met and that he now blackmails me into sissified submission beyond my wildest dreams.

My PISS DRINKING faggot knows no SHAME...a total loser and I am so happy to have enslaved her pathetic sissy ass

Day 5

I awoke late again this morning...9.00am to be precise...half an hour later than yesterday. I usually have to be fully alert by 7.00am to receive my Masters requests but he had a very busy and late night last night so while he rested I set about my duties like a good sissy girl. Firstly I drank down my first piss of the day as is now customary and filmed and posted the event. I had a small bowl of cereal as I was not feeling hungry at all. In accustoming one's self with the almost permanent sensations of fear and excitement a sissy like me is expected to lose her appetite and my diet this week has been sufficient but frugal. I recall meeting a Dom in chat room some time ago who wanted to see me eat a variety of foods on camera. His suggestions were cat food, banana and hotdog. I was expected to garnish all three with spunk and with regards the banana and hot dog...I was expected to insert them into my anus first before applying the dressing. Food fetishism has never appealed to me as I am far too much of a pristine bimbo slut to be getting involved in ‘splosh' activities. For various reason this particular menu went no further than just chat but I was still left entertained by the idea. I once read a ‘sissy story' about an unfortunate sissy cuckold who was taken on a ‘picnic' by his wife and her lover. He wore lingerie under his male clothing and was allowed to sit at very public picnic table with lots of other people around. He did, however, have to eat from an ashtray (fag buts and chewing gum) and then later was taken off to the woods, stripped to his lingerie (his male clothing taken away and hid from him) and ass whipped with birch, hazel wands and then lover's belt. Nettles were then applied to his ass and his tight blue balls. Finally his wife's lover fucks his face then his ass while she laughs. Finally they leash him to a tree using chain and a combination padlock and leave him there. Mercifully he is left a mobile phone...they text him eventually revealing the code for the padlock and then tell him where they have hidden his male clothing. He had to take a bus home...and they had written on his light coloured trousers with indelible black pen the words ‘sissy faggot' in large letters. Needless to say his journey home was an ordeal.

My Master has often made eat my own spunk and drink my own piss and has treated me to his own and much more appealing form of ‘splosh'...that being a thick glassy, slimy and slippery coating of spunk across my whole face...a ‘cum mask' if you will to be worn by a sissy faggot like me in order to both publically display myself as a hopeless but not entirely useless faggot queer and further underline the helpless nature of my situation. My Master has ingeniously devised every humiliation so as to educate as well as thrill and the more of his orders I follow the more submissive and compliant I become. Indeed this week he ordered me past a particular boundaries with regards what goes in my mouth.

I was ordered to insert the black rubber cockhead of my dildo gag into my ass and then having pushed it up there and thoroughly fucked my sissy hole with it I was instructed to wear the gag for its intended purpose. Pushing it my sissy cunt I felt utterly dejected and oppressed...I knew that that the cock head would be covered quite handsomely by the goo in my ass and hated the thought of having to taste it. But I felt critically obliged and had to keep telling myself that this was necessary, there was no alternative and no option to do anything else. Once again I felt my heart sink a little further as I realised that having set all this in motion it was now impossible to stop...I felt as though I was trapped on a roller coaster that never stops and just keeps going making every thrill more intense. I writhed on the cock head and sucked deep into my greedy sissy cunt making sure it got a good layer of whatever disgusting concoction had formed in my cunt.

Buckling the gag tightly around my head there was no way of avoiding tasting, smelling, chewing and swallowing the smeared shit, lubricant and assorted stinking goo. A heavy irrepressible stench of rotting mushrooms, spiced with foul nasty excrement...a strange metallic taste developed in my mouth...like copper or old brass but much more vibrant, wet and totally disgusting. I gagged and choked down the sissy cunt slime, with every gulp its taste worsening. This hot, swampy, nasty slop really did make me gag but also reminded me the power my Master exerts over me and that no matter what I must now obey.

This strange cycle of terror and excitement stems from an incident during my teenage years when I was first learning to dress as a sissy girl. I stayed at an aunt's house (and I don't mean sound cliché but this is how most fantasies start!). She was a very leggy woman with a taste for tight satin skirts and frilly blouses...it was the 80's and that kind of thing was acceptable...wish it was now! To cut a long story short, one day while she was out I went to her room and dressed in her lingerie (knickers and silky tights) skirt blouse and make up and ankle strap heels...no wig in those days. I decided to tie myself to her bed using old pairs of tights from the bin. I tied my ankles as wide apart as the skirt would let me and then fatefully decided to use slip knots on my wrists...but with a pair of scissors just within reach on the bedside table. I then lay back spread my arms and slipped my wrists into the slip knot loops on the bed posts. I pulled the loops and they closed around my wrists and once tight I began wriggling around, squirming on her bed, working myself up with all kinds of submissive and sexual notions. I writhed and fantasised for half an hour and then reached for the scissors with my right hand. In reaching for them the slip knot around my wrist tightened dramatically and yes you've guest it I dropped the all-important scissors.

To make matters worse my hands began to tingle and then go slightly numb. I began to panic. I rolled around trying to free both wrists but nothing worked. My panic was now so extreme and I can still feel it. I began to cry and then as I wriggled the knot holding my left ankle miraculously failed. Slowly...painfully slowly I worked my hips so the skirt rode up my silk nylon legs and I was able ....not without difficulty to throw my left leg over myself and managed to position the pointed heel of my stiletto into the very fabric of the nylon stocking that held my left wrist so very secure. I then had to work the heel so that it ripped the stocking. These exertions combined with my sense of panic and haste caused me to actually wank myself as my left thigh rode over my clit. The silky knickers I wore facilitated the motion...but the pencil skirt slowed things down...my urgency seemed to work against me and before too long I was consumed with a self-induced auto-orgasm the like of which I had never known. The pleasure was excruciating but wonderful. I was stuck not just in lingerie and bondage but now totally paralysed with an ecstatic shock that seemed to last for hours....in fact it was nearly 30 mins later that I was actually able to move myself properly again...and I was still spurting watery sissy cum with every jab of my sharp heel into my bondage. I did finally get free and got cleaned up before she arrived home.

The fear of being caught...the terror of being so completely utterly helpless has driven all my fantasies since and now here I am the owned property of my Master...blackmailed, stuck, trapped and captured. Placed into the custody of my Master to begin my long sentence for all my weaknesses and flaws for which I must now be held accountable.

I received a text from my Master ordering the spanking machine to be demonstrated again tonight...this time with crop and cane...I am truly dreading it....but videoing myself being beaten and suffering the stripes on my ass pales against the possibility of him ever seeing fit to expose me...part of the thrill of blackmail is knowing your owned and there's NO CHOICE. Knowing that there is no longer any thing I can say or do about my own situation...knowing that it's either this or ruination...makes my cock cage feel VERY tight indeed. Oh yes...and the more I regret and allow myself a pitiful mournful sob at being such a stupid irresponsible sissy....the more that cock cage has to work...indeed it works overtime with every sorrowful heart aching second.

I set up my spanking machine and began my punishment videos of receiving a total thrashing with the crop and the cane. Having received the crop yesterday I was very fearful as I put it back into the device and clamped it the jaws thoroughly. The agony was greater than I imagined and I danced under its relentless cutting swipes which striped my sissy ass flesh like a scorching ray of light. Each cut of the crop seemed to get hotter until it almost felt that the powerful welts being developed across my rump were no be cauterised by this unending and unstoppable beating. I foolishly believed I had received the worst until I attached the can for another automated spanking. The cane burned like it was electrified and each whippy snap made me scream. I began crying almost straight away but had to endure strike after strike until I could barely speak and my face was running with tears and snot. My mind was exploding with heat and pain so it was no surprise when white spots began to burn in my retinas...like looking at a light bulb for too long and so I had to bite down on the chair back and close my eyes just keep myself from passing out. Each whippy snapping strike got sizably more painful than the last and when it was finally over I could do little but crawl and whimper.

Even though my Master has not been so busy with me (because he has had much more important things to do) I am still subject to his rule and revel in the fact he has such a hold of me. Tomorrow may see a return to his usual barrage of texts and instructions designed to keep a sissy both busy and pleasing to my Master. I have been ordered to sleep with bung in place and as my sissy hole will be punished tomorrow. My hole is hot and my ass flesh burning and sore from its beatings...my body is weary but wonderfully weak....my mind is in a liquid state of flux and all sense of rationale and reason have been completely eradicated. Indeed these senses have been replaced with a one of delicious reluctant.feelings of resignation. Just like I have never been into 'splosh' with food or scat (the taste of shit...yuk) o I have never been into ‘sissy hypnosis' etc preferring mind games with a certain amount of risk...'truth or dare'...kind of thing. Such ‘games' seem now to have actually resulted in a trance like state. I do now find myself almost instinctively flouncing and mincing about wishing my Master could see me as I move and behave like a good sissy girl. There are now times when I feel like I staring down at myself and watching me perform as a good sissy should. Such things are hard to explain but hopefully it will all make sense soon...what is clear is that my Master has established a very firm grip of my mind and tomorrow he will doubtless flex his authority so that I might further fall within his trance.

Can you believe just how this pathetic this sissy really is?...she got what she wanted and now she gets what she deserves

Day 4

I awoke late this morning as my Master had other things to attend to and made my now daily morning video of myself pissing into a glass. My first piss of the day, and drinking it. I was exceptionally weary this morning as I had not really been able to get much sleep writhing around in piss soaked knickers and stockings. I had bad dreams too...and when I awoke I found my own reality was just as terrifying as my nightmares if not more so. Following his instructions of the previous evening I dressed in small tight and pretty panties...my bung still securely lodged in my sissy ass...black bra to match my panties and black nylon hose. Since I was not going to work today he had ordered I dress in blouse and skirt which naturally I did.

Although I knew he was busy I could not risk a random text message requiring a picture/pictures of myself wear a badge or displaying a sign displaying some kind of message or comment that would be highlighted in the message. There is no way to predict what sort of slogan he might choose. Ultimately if I was unable to send him a pic within a VERY short timeframe (10 mins) he would get VERY angry. I can't risk being flagrantly disobedient and lounging around in pretend male clothes on the off chance he won't text. That would be unthinkable....if, when applying the twisted logic of my situation, not downright dishonest...I can't risk being exposed, which means I can't risk pissing him off in any way at all. This is in part how forced feminisation should work and my Master applies it with ease and invention. If only I had CCTV in my house which he could remotely access...this would make my house into a maximum security sissy prison. Strange how it feels that way now without the cameras....so lost I am under his spell that he seems to have become permanently resident in my own twisted mind.

With my Master busy I set about doing my own chores...house work etc. Dressed to the nines in skirt, blouse, wig and heels I set to a marathon task of dusting and cleaning. The dresser, the book cases, the tables and cupboards all need polishing. The wine glasses, the picture frame and mirrors all needed washing. It's been warm all week, yesterday I silently melted during a meeting...everyone was wearing loose summery clothing and sat tightly clothed so not as to reveal my hose or lingerie....it got very hot in more ways than one. Today I sweated within the tightly restrictive confines of my sissy apparel. The tightness of slave collar...padlocked securely in place....really began chafe and my stiletto heels pinched and sniped at my feet. I allowed myself a couple of coffee breaks and took the time to look at my reflection. I made myself look ‘pretty' and therefore more ridiculous just in case a message should arrive. I have developed an excited sense of loathing at the sound of my text alert alarm. Any message I receive from him...be it by email or text or chat...I always read with dread...cold dread....running through my veins.

Whilst doing some other cleaning in the kitchen I was reminded of a number of items located in my freezer....a pair of used panties (bought from a disreputable woman with disreputable panty selling website) and condom full of my water useless jizz...all zip locked for freshness they had seemed like a good idea at the time but now I wondered if they were actually necessary since my humiliation seemed to need no further development at present. I had told my Master of their existence but now hoped his busy life would have pushed that memory from his mind. I knew there was little chance of such detail ever being forgotten by my Master and tried to push the thought of them out of mind.

I received a text in the afternoon and then an email which outlined clearly my instructions for the evening. Recently I purchased a spanking machine...yes such thing exists and can be yours for less than £100. It's a small device compared to its peers but is still very powerful. I was ordered to set it up and use any implement I liked to tan my behind for 10 minutes and the afterwards I was to another 10 minutes with the riding crop on maximum power. I filmed the whole painful and tearful event and then sat on the hard wooden seat and sent it to my Master along with a number of pics illustrating the damage. When I bought the machine I was delighted at the prospect of getting striped in this way and truly believed it to be one of the best purchases a sissy could make...but now having felt the pain of its thrashing capability I am beginning to regret ever thinking about buying it.

Still trembling from the horrendous mechanical beating I had just received my Master messaged me again and ordered that I write out more punishment lines, 50 in total, and have them sent in reasonably quick time. Wearing my dildo gag and dunce cap I sat on a hard wooden chair and wrote out my lines...the occasional tear blotting the pink ink...there I sat in total discomfort. I recorded this pictorially so as to please Master who is having a tough day and night and confined to several very important meetings. I hoped that my dunce, line writing sissy might cheer him up at the end of a very long day....this is how far I have fallen under his spell.

Finally I was able, at about 11.00pm. to drink my nightly glass of piss and reflect on yet another day as sissy slave...the kind I always dreamed about...timid, uncomfortable, nervous and squirming with every second of everyday with perpetual and persistent embarrassment of my forcibly feminised status. Oh the agonies of being trapped, made a captive and cruelly imprisoned with paranoia, mind games and sheer physical humiliation. It's all too easy for me to work my nerves up to a frenzy and then sit there empty headed and entranced by the intensity of this bizarre reality of being owned and controlled by another man.

Day three for my BLACKMAILED FAGGOT and things just harder

Day 03

Up at 7.00am as usual this morning and ready to drink my first piss of the day. Brown and pungent I pissed in a glass on camera still resplendent in my slinky black baby doll and steel handcuffs. My orders for the day were to wear tight black panties, black hose and black bra beneath my masculine façade of male ‘liar' clothing. I was also instructed to keep the bung in place which was not difficult as it seems to naturally stuffed up there and shows no signs of coming out. My Master was once again VERY insistent and reminded me several times before I left for work just how utterly helpless I am. I am so very weak willed and already so far under his thrall that I could offer not a single ounce of resistance and sycophantically agreed with everything he said. Since I am given NO CHOICE but to obey his orders I see no point in trying to plead or beg for any kind of dispensation has it will come to nothing any way and might only hasten an unwanted new reality of mass exposure to particular individuals who will see me happily destroyed by all this. I gave my Master a breakdown of my agenda for the day, highlighting the meetings I would be in and the times when these occurred. I photographed myself, as per his instruction, dressed in lingerie with a badge reading "ASS SUCKING FAGGOT" and then made my way off to work.

Greeting colleagues and discussing with them the work to be done this day is now a self-conscious nightmare as I try to concentrate on the meetings I have to attend and not the fact that I am wearing lingerie beneath my ‘false' male clothing. I have to be careful how I move and cannot really relax for a second when in some one else's company for fear I might betray my true pathetic sissy self. At around 11.30am, after my first interminable meeting I received a text ordering me off to the toilet for a short ‘clit stroking' session. Foolishly I had forgotten to bring the keys to my cock lock cage and when I informed my Master he was not best pleased. I was then ordered to the toilet to vibrate the bung on its highest speed and produce the necessary pictorial evidence. On this occasion I wore a badge that read "STUPID BIMBO SISSY FAGGOT" and rode on my bung for 10 or 15mins or so while my colleagues relaxed and chatted. They are able to do that because they are free and therefore able to make decisions for themselves. I am not free, I am a captive, a blackmailed captive under the strict control of my Master.

Am I a victim? Yes I am, I am a victim of my own hedonistic urges and my desire to be controlled and dominated. Yes I am a victim, I am victim of my Masters cruel oppression and unyielding authority and the more I try to find the will to find some means of escape the further I fall into this submissive trance that only succeeds in deepening my anxiety, de bring the keys to my cock lock cage and when I informed my Master he was not best pleased. I was then ordered to the toilet to vibrate the bung on its highest speed and produce the necessary pictorial evidence. On this occasion I wore a badge that read "STUPID BIMBO SISSY FAGGOT" and rode on my bung for 10 or 15mins or so while my colleagues relaxed and chatted. They are able to do that because they are free and therefore able to make decisions for themselves. I am not free, I am a captive, a blackmailed captive under the strict control of my Master.

Am I a victim? Yes I am, I am a victim of my own hedonistic urges and my desire to be controlled and dominated. Yes I am a victim, I am victim of my Masters cruel oppression and unyielding authority and the more I try to find the will to find some means of escape the further I fall into this submissive trance that only succeeds in deepening my anxiety, depravity and anguish. The more I realise just how much of a victim I am the more of a victim I thus become. Am I a willing victim? Yes and no, I willing surrendered myself but now must pay the price for that and accept that my Master has now complete control of me, he owns me pure and simple and I have managed to get myself enslaved in such a way that the innocent freedoms of my colleagues, enjoying their coffee break seem to me like a distant and painful memory, tinged with heart breaking regret.

I took the train home from work with my bung humming away deep inside of me. My Master asked me to consider what my fellow passengers wouldthink if they knew about what I was wearing beneath my pretend male clothing and more importantly what was going on in my brain. What would they think indeed...a grown man who has purposefully sought to get himself into such a mess....the cackling chav girls who screeched and laughed in the seats in front of me would doubtless of had a field day....their pert breasts beneath their tight t-shirts, their shiny leggings and over the top make-up teased me all the way home but their teasing would be of a different kind if they knew that the person sat two seats back from them was wearing black bra, panties and hose and lived only to serve another, much more superior man. The guy behind me on the seats across the aisle looked like the kind of man that if he knew would drag me off at the next stop, strip me to my lingerie and tie me to the railings before flailing my ass with his belt and then raping my ass with his rigid real mans cock. I was relieved to be off the train and leapt to the platform at my stop. Walking from the station I felt another wave of dread roll over me. Caught in a throng of happy office workers I listened to them chatter as I passed...they were making plans for a midweek drink at a local pub and discussing the possibility of a BBQ on Friday. I envied them and in so doing disgusted myself...I cannot make such plans...plans are now made for me and whilst other people can cheerfully wander on home I slink back to my house, now a sissy prison, to continue my relentless humiliation and absorb yet more of my Masters ridicule and scorn.

On arriving home my Master texted and I was ordered to dress in full femme attire...my ‘office slut' outfit and then go parade myself in my garden...resplendent in all my sissy finery and dildo gag. The whole ordeal had to be properly recorded and I was to spend 20 minutes out there...squirming and cringing with the ever present danger of being seen. I minced, flounced and finally staggered my way through this horrendous task...my heart leaping at every sound...a neighbours conversation, their voices drifting from an open window....music from a radio...the flutter of birds flying above me...the swish and rustle of bushes and plants in the light breeze...all of my senses working overtime. There was a time when I enjoyed these little forays into my garden...a cheeky sissy dare to spice up a solo dressing experience....a cheeky sissy dare to get myself out there....These days I am out there because I dare not be anywhere else....orders are orders and I must obey...and as I cringe purposefully looking like a broken reed I am even more excited than ever I was before....NO CHOICE NOW...I repeat to myself...burning with shame, soaked in fear and almost tearful in my complete obedience. It is a mantra I repeat with every order I receive and oh how the heart ache and heart break as I feel the fear and remorse wash through me.

Once back indoors my Master ordered me to add my dunce cap to my sissy ensemble and then get on with my sissy blog entry. I was also required to perform an act of self-bondage which almost resulted in disaster. I complied fully with all the orders and sent him a host of pics and videos of my degradation. Sa a final act of supreme humiliation I was then required to seat myself on my hard wooden chair and piss myself like a naughty school girl. I had been forbidden to pee since 2.00pm that afternoon and by 11.30pm I was becoming increasingly desperate. I sat on my chair and then flooded my knickers with stinking pungent piss...some of which I caught in a glass and drank. I then finished my journal entry squirming in a puddle of my own piss, my panties and stockings soaked and utterly sodden. I was not allowed to move until my work was done then afterwards I specifically ordered NOT to dry off, NOT to take off my drenched panties and instead prepare for bed and don some slinky night wear. I then spent a miserable night in my bed which quickly became extremely wet and uncomfortable. Snapping the handcuffs around my wrist and feeling the bung suck further into my sissy cunt I shook my head ruefully and with a mournful whimper I cried myself in to a disturbed and stinking slumber.

The second installment from my pathetic BITCH slave

DAY 02

I thought my busy day could not get any busier till I got home. My Master had already ordered me to have my cock caged, ass plugged and knickers on (tight black satin panties, very full and very pretty). When home I was ordered out of my ‘pretend' male clothing and into something befitting my sissy faggot status and like a good sissy girl I obliged. I wore a pink satin blouse with lacy ruffles, a high collar and tight lacy cuffs, a short pink skirt, black nylon hose, red high heels (5 inch) with cruelly tight ankle straps, a modicum of make-up, jewellery and black fishnet gloves. Once ready I reported to my Master who immediately ordered me to swap the bung I was currently wearing for my larger vibrating one and then as a special relaxing ‘treat', he commanded that I go sit in my back garden and enjoy a nice cold drink. My back garden is small and well overlooked by the neighbours who can easily see into it from their windows or across the fences and wall.

The garden is a theatre of humiliation for me...when I previously had dressed, during one of my many solo games, I would often dare myself out there and feel the thrill of being so terribly exposed. Now when my Master orders me out there....I have to go...no excuses and no negotiation ...so when I received the order to parade out there...in the broad daylight of the late afternoon....I almost broke down in tears. I HAD to obey and so with my large vibrating bung at the ready I mournfully began the process of removing the smaller bung and inserting the larger one with terrible apprehension and anxiety. The smaller bung slipped out no trouble at all but getting the bigger...substantially bigger in length and width...took time and I had to fuck myself with it.

Standing in the bathroom I fucked my ass feeling dejected, depraved and doomed....I sighed heavily with each thrust inside me and allowed a few tears to trickle down my cheek as I watched myself in the bathroom mirror as I fucked myself with my knickers and hose puled down carefully to my knees...my pretty panties all silky and shiny...my ass crammed with this unstoppable bung knowing that soon I would have to pull up my knickers and make myself look pretty and presentable for an unholy shameful outing into my garden.

Finally I got the bung inside and thrust up into my sissy hole until it sat tightly in there. I then pulled up my tights and knickers and then with a very heavy heart began my preparations for leaving the relative safety of my house. My Master demands pics of everything I do so I had to set up the lap top on the patio table, and the camera and tripod with self-timer ready to go. When at last I was ready I minced out into the garden looking like a bizarre pink satin faggot. There is nowhere to hide in my garden at the very best of times but today, in daylight and dressed all in lurid pink I felt doubly self-conscious. My sissy cunt gripped the bung all so very tightly as I seated myself at the patio table, my hand bag swinging and my wrists completely limp. The sense of having NO CHOICE but to do this alongside the incredibly high risk of being seen made my cock cage work overtime. I cringed and grimaced and tried to look my sissy best in order to produce pictures of excellent quality that my Master would approve of. Before I left the house I texted my Master and was not allowed to return until he texted back. It was a shocking and fully horrendous ordeal. The bung in my ass is wirelessly remote controlled and I set it on a random sequence of speeds...not so much for my pleasure, but more to stretch my sissy hole so as to better accommodate its girth and length. I sat sucking lemonade from a glass bottle with a pink straw and tried not allow myself to complete dissolve into a panic strewn hysterical fit. 

My eyes darted from window to window, my heart thumping so loud with crazed apprehension. Finally, and much to my relief, my Master texted me and allowed me to go back inside. Picking up my hand bag I minced back in doors almost tearful with humiliation. I had to then bring everything else back inside including the lap top and camera etc. My ridiculous pink outfit seemed to impress my Master and he remarked that my outfit made me look like a proper sissy faggot.

My instructions for that evening where to produce three confessional videos addressed specifically to three of the woman listed on my blackmail contact list. All the women on that list despise me and the three that I chose most especially so.  Each video was approximately 10 minutes long and very painful to to do. Dressed in my sissy pink finest I told each unfortunate woman how I was a sissy transvestite, with a fetish for ‘blackmail', a desire for total humiliation and a yearning...an unstoppable yearning...to be dominated and cruelly controlled by another man. I explained in some detail how I craved cock, drank piss and longed to be another mans...a real mans....fuck toy and humiliation puppet....subject to his complete authority and serving his every whim and desire as a slave, servant and slut.

Whilst performing this horribly shameful task my Master ordered me to complete an additional one and I was instructed to remove the large vibrating bung that whirred away in my sissy hole and then, on camera, insert the black rubber cock head f my dildo gag. This I did, explaining the whole process as I went along...the black rubber cock head sat neatly in my sissy cunt  for some time before...as per instruction...I removed it and then used the dildo gag in its more conventional and intended way. The black rubber cock head stank of lube, sweat and most of all of shit and ass. With a grimace I plugged my mouth and buckled the gag tightly into position behind my head. The taste and smell were truly disgusting and gagged repeatedly. My Master rejoiced at having forced me to break my taboo with regards scat...here I was now...a shit licking, ass sucking sissy whore completely at his command.

With almost every text he reminded me that ruination was just but one click away....that exposure and total destruction lay but just one click away. My earlier adventure outside had made me realise that I truly had little choice but to obey my Masters EVERY instruction...it was marginally better to risk being seen by the neighbours than to be revealed to any of the women on the blackmail contact list which I had so readily...and in hind sight stupidly...supplied him with. I have no options now and have placed myself in an irreversible and irrevocable situation from which he...my Master...has no intention of allowing me to escape from.

So delighted was he with my sissy efforts with regards the gag that my Master allowed me to savour a special sissy treat. I was not just to drink a full glass of my own piss but also allowed t take off my chastity cage and wank my pathetic sissy clit to orgasm....capturing the whole sordid event on camera for his amusement. The spunk...useless, seedless, sissy watery slime had to go directly into the glass and I then consumed the lot, sucking it down through a pink straw. With that done my Master ordered me into sissy night attire...my sissy cock relocked into its cage and bung reinserted. In addition I was ordered to wear handcuffs for sleeping and so went to be...thrilled, dejected, apprehensive and almost doubled up with the weight of his total control resting so heavily upon me. My Master had declared that I had performed well today but tomorrow is"another day".

These first few blog postings are an account of my OWEN faggots slave experience when she had to do 24/7 submission for a whole week. I took the time to really put this stupid fucking bitch through her sissy paces. This is just the start...this BITCH is MINE.

 Here is the first installment of my sissy faggots week under my FULL control, this has been written by here and her alone

Monday 06/06/2016

DAY 1

This is the first of many entries into a weeklong journal of my sissy performance as a slave and sissy faggot that is the property of Master Dan aka the BLACKMAIL_BOSS. My name is Miss Paula Cocksilk and all my life I have craved for forced feminization, forced chastity and forced homosexuality. I have finally found a Master who understands my need to be controlled, humiliated and given NO CHOICE so that I might best serve the needs and wants of a real man as befits a sissy faggot like me.

It began with a game I devised that would see me enslaved for a week of sissy dressing and submission but it ended with me now under permanent control and subject to the pleasures of my Master for as long as he sees fit. He has all the personal information he needs to absolutely destroy me. I would be left unemployed, socially ostracised and inevitably homeless. My reputation and everything that once made up my life before is completely at risk and can destroyed with a single click of a button. Yes it gets my heart racing, yes it excites me and arouses my sissy clit, my puny irrelevant sissy cock becomes very tight in its plastic prison....but the regret, remorse and painful reality of being so imprisoned puts me on a merry go round of excitement and fear that never ends.

This morning I was ordered to lock up my clit and go to work in lingerie. When Master cannot be present he can easily overtake my life through all the means of social media in order to make sure I am under his TOTAL control. Just one threat of exposure is enough for me to feel that horrid sinking feeling suddenly then replaced by explosive thrills of really and truly having NO CHOICE. His control is beyond all question and I NEVER allowed to forget it.

He sent me texts throughout the day demanding pics and delivering orders for assignments which MUST be completed with specific time frames. Yes it is difficult and yes it can be both physically and emotionally uncomfortable to find one's self cowering before a man who has all the power in the world to ruin me unless I submit myself to his unrelenting regime of embarrassment and abject humiliation. It's all hard to accept for me...I have deliberately pushed myself into this situation and now I must face up to what I have done...but the regret is still too painful to dwell on so, like a good Bimbo, I clear my mind and follow his orders without question. So when ordered to insert the bung into my ass before I left work I did so and observed the order not to piss after 2.00pm.

This evening on arrival home from work I was required to make two videos. One by means of an introduction, giving out yet more personal information while I stripped from my pretend man clothes revealing my lingerie beneath....white satin control panties, black panty girdle with suspenders and black stockings and black bra. I confessed to craving this humiliation and to being a depraved sissy slut, caught out, trapped, enslaved and made to be Master Dan's personal sissy faggot. The second video saw me having to present myself in my lingerie and then, before the camera, made to piss my panties after which I was ordered to remove them and suck them dry. They were disgusting, my caffeine rich piss wreaked and the asparagus I had for supper the previous evening now made my panties taste like toxic waste. My Master controls exactly when, where and how I piss and I am obliged to drink my own piss EVERY day. 

In addition to these videos, on which I was graded like a first year School Girl, I was then ordered to don a blouse and skirt and heels and wig and set about my chores. Chores MUST be completed alongside a line writing exercise which had also to be written to a deadline. 

Punishment lines, the typical school girl form of chastisement, must be written in pink in a pink exercise book then scanned and sent. This represents not just a mode of necessary discipline but also a means of ‘brain washing' and acts as part of the programme learning course through which my mind is moulded so as to become uncontrollably and subconsciously more of a sissy. Since I can offer no resistance to his authority without facing utter ruination, my sense of resistance is easy to minimize allowing my sense of reason and reality to become cocooned in his devious web of behaviour modification. Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own skin...I stand before the mirror and don't recognise my reflection, I become appalled by my own submission and tremble inside myself with horror at the world crushing gravity of my situation. Like the man in the iron mask I stare out from behind this unyielding and permanently fixed façade unable to escape my tormentors.

During the course of the evening I received further instructions such as to piss into a glass then consume its contents or insert/re-insert one of my bungs (not the largest...not yet!!) etc. All of this was documented and now resides in his growing archive of damaging material with which to use against me. There's no escape from this, I cannot object or try to worm my way out of this situation and he will NOT discuss the matter beyond that of reminding me continually that he is now in complete control of everything I do and that disobedience of any kind will NOT be tolerated. Yes sometimes I could cry but that only causes me to become even more aroused and electrified with excitement.

As a reward for providing adequate service and amusement I was allowed to uncage my cock and stroke it for a while but strictly no ejaculation permitted. After a suitable period of pleasure I was ordered to re-cage my cock and go to bed. Having worn lingerie all day then dressed full enfemme all night I was finally excused duties and sent to bed in a black satin baby doll, panties (bung deep inside me), stockings, panty girdle and bra. Lying on the bed I shivered....but there was no breeze or chill...it was just me lost in my own sissy trance and wondering just how much more depraved would my situation get in the next few days.