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.
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.