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.