Locked Dummy

“Comfortable?” She taunted as she poked the heel of her shoe through the cage and into his stocky flesh. The dummy could only groan in response. His own bad behavior led him here, and she would make sure he felt maximum regret.

He laid on his back with his arms cuffed to the cage wall above his head. His legs were spread and his balls were encased in a leather parachute stretcher lined with viciously sharp metal spikes. The parachute was attached to a chain, and the chain was now in one of her delicate hands. In the other, a bungee cord tied to a line secured to an anchor in the ceiling.

She was struggling to extend the bungee to its limit, pulling hard so the hooked end would reach the side of the cage. When it could go no further she pulled on the chain and all at once a hundred tiny shards dug into the dummy’s balls. His screams made her laugh. She had no remorse for the pain he was feeling. He did this to himself and she would delight in his suffering.

The chain was attached to the cord and the dummy’s balls were stretched to their limit. He squirmed, pressed against the walls, tried to lift his hips in the air, and did just about everything a person could do to try and relieve the tension on his balls. But it was pointless. The bungee kept maximum tension, and maximum pressure on the spikes no matter where he moved.

She gave the line a cruel tug just to watch him jump. Then she sat down in a high-backed chair and looked down at the suffering man caught in her cage.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, more to herself than to him. She didn’t really care what he had to say on the matter. “What could I use you for?” she mused.

“What are you good for?” she was talking directly to him now. And her tone had changed from amused to serious. She stood up, placed both hands on the cage and leaned over him. She spit directly into his face. He tried to turn away but truly had nowhere to go. “Answer me dummy. Why should I keep you around after you tried to escape”

The pain in his balls was all he could think about. Her question barely registered. His thoughts were focused on what he could say to get out of this predicament and end the pain. “I’ll do anything you want” he cried

“Anything?” she questioned. Another drop of spit splattered on his cheek. “What if I just want to spit on your face until your balls tear off?”

“Oh no, please, anything but that?” he was starting to shake

She walked around the cage, each step of her stillettos on the hard floor made him jump. He got exceptionally nervous when she started stroking the rope that was holding his balls. She wasn’t adding any tension, she was just stroking it with her long slender fingers and deep red nails.

“I could make you into a sissy faggot so easily” she sounded almost bored with the idea when she said it. “You already have all the gear, the hypno porn is plentiful, those opaque stockings mean you only need to do minimal shaving. We could even skip the makeup, and just get you a mask with huge red-lipped cocksucker gag” She had thought this through, which told him it would probably happen. He decided to just nod and figure a way out of it later. “what’s that faggot? You’re going to be my sissy hooker pet?”

Just then she twisted a two fingers around the line and gave it a sharp jerk upwards. Suddenly every shard of metal moved that much deeper into his skin. He was literally afraid they might be torn off. He panted in agony, begging her to believe him. “Yes, I’ll be your sissy hooker pet!! Just let me out!”

She let go of the line, and the pain he was struggling to endure just a few moments ago suddenly didn’t seem so bad compared to the terrifying slicing sensation he felt when she pulled on that rope.

She looked down at him again, spitting a thick wad of snot and saliva right into the edge of his eye. And she just stood there, silently staring at him as his dignity melted. Again, another wad of spit. “I’d have to train your ass. I’d have to stretch you so you’re ready for anything. I know you hate that, but does it hurt worse than this?”

And just then she yanked on the line again causing him to grunt profusely and writhe at the sudden burst of pain in his balls. “Yes! Yes!” he cried “Yes please fuck my ass!!”

And then she let go. “You’re so pathetic. So occupied with your own comfort. Always trying to find the easiest way to endure your torture. Saying things just to end the pain.”

She squatted down so her face was near his and looked directly into his eyes. “The pain ends when I decide Dummy.”

She got up, continued to circle the cage, and continued to muse on what she might do with her Dummy. “You’re already in a pet cage, you could just be a pet. You could be an animal on display for me. What do you think about that?

“just please let my balls free and I’ll be such a good pet!!” his voice was trembling now

“I could put some long ears on your head, and tape some cotton to your butt plug and make you my caged bunny. What do you think about that?” She asked. He could only nod and grunt and writhe in desperate hope for her approval. “I’ll feed you water, and lettuce, and you’ll never leave this cage”

“or maybe I’ll just make you into furniture. Then I don’t have to worry about feeding you. Who feeds a coffee table right?”

“RIGHT?” she demanded an answer as she pulled on the rope again, this time harder than any time previously and he screamed completely unable to control himself. “YES MISTRESS!!” was all he could say. Words were outside of his purview at the moment.

“Yeah, I could make you hold still and use your back as a shelf for things while I take calls, blog, or visit with friends. Or if I don’t need that, you can be a coat rack. You can stand in the corner and hold my guests’ coat until they leave. Or you can be an ashtray. Or you can be a toilet. or you can be all of those things. The point is that I can decide when you stop being a human being, and start being any object I desire!”

“Is that clear dummy?” She asked letting a long strand of drool fall from her lips and pool on his face. “YES ANYTHING!” he screamed as he desperately thrust his hips forward in a futile attempt to relieve the tension. Squirming, moaning, and tugging on his restraints, he tearfully pleaded for mercy.

After delighting in his tears for a few moments, she finally detached the bungee cord from the ball stretcher. The dummy put his arm over his mouth and screamed violently as the circulation returned to his balls. Everything went dark for a moment, stars and colors, and light headed feelings overwhelmed him. and when they finally cleared, she was looking down at him.

Another shot of spit landed directly on his eye

“don’t go anywhere” she smirked as she turned and left the room. And that’s where he stayed, caged, alone, isolated, ignored, destroyed, and owned. This was his fate for life, and he realized that he would never escape.

So I was bad. I escaped captivity for a time. I enjoyed my cock a little too much. I diverted my focus from worshiping Ms Cassandra. I’m going to be punished. Ms Cassandra has asked me to post some ideas here.

I won’t go into elaborate detail. I have some decent ideas on how to rig most of this stuff. I’ll just post the highlights and then make a detailed post for any of these things that I actually do.

Drink a lot of pee

There are a couple of ways to make me drink a lot of pee. It could be drained directly into my mouth using a gag attached to a feeding tube. I can rig up a scene where I’m bound and forced to drink pee out of a bucket through a straw. When I drink it all, some keys are released to facilitate my escape.

I could also do it very slowly by melting frozen pee into a feeding tube that goes directly into my mouth. I could also use frozen pee in other ways. If I were locked in the dog crate, and the key were frozen in a block of pee and placed on top…I would have to wait for the block to melt in order to get out. Meanwhile, all the cold pee will drip all over me and I’ll have to just wallow in it.

Cock torture and chastity

Ms Cassandra knows I hate chastity. That’s what makes it a good punishment. I don’t enjoy being locked. But I enjoy knowing that someone has the power to do that to me. Other forms of cock torture include the weighted/spiked parachute ball stretcher, the ball-crusher, a zeus electric device. These things work well for prolonged torture and can be left on me while I’m bound and unable to release myself.

Extended Bondage

Reinforcing my status as captive means I must get used to being held prisoner, and ignored. I have to learn that sometimes the best way to serve Ms Cassandra is to simple let her enjoy the fact that I exist and she owns me. During this time I can be kept bound in a cage, bound spread eagle, shackled, chained to the toilet, chained to a 50lb dumbell, etc. With the help of some pretty simple software, I can be kept in the corner, or anywhere, unable to move, having every infraction logged by a bot watching me on video feed.

Sissy and Bi Stuff

Glory hole dares. Blow and Go’s. Enforced sissy hood. Use porn to condition me to enjoy being feminized, sucking cock, and eating cum. I’m really not “into” the feminization fetish. But I think it’s mind blowing that someone else can control my gender like that. If she says I’m going to be a sissy hooker, checked into a motel in a faraway town, cruising grinder for random black cocks….then it will happen.

Conditioning and ongoing punishment

Apparently I need rules enforced. I need to have my status and place reinforced on a daily basis. I need to be reminded constantly that I’m owned and have no choice but to obey. That can be achieved by implementing regular chores, or conditions that reinforce my position. Writing assignments and corner-time are obvious suggestions.

I am also going to re-arrange my closet so I can keep the pet-cage setup all the time. Perhaps some daily time in there will help. Or..another thought I had….maybe I’m only allowed to cum while I’m in the cage. I have to cum on the floor of the cage and leave it there. And then after I cum, I have to stay locked in for a period of time. That would be rough. Right after orgasm….being stuck in a cage. If it’s not my first time doing it, there would be many puddles of dried cum everywhere, and I just have to sit in it, as my punishment for being self-indulgent with my cock. Maybe a second orgasm in a day warrants longer time in the cage. That might teach me a lesson about wasting time masturbating, hmm? lol

….and a dummy suit.

I’m really enjoying the captive roleplay I have going with Ms Cassandra. She’s expressed the same, particularly as it relates to her learning about self-bondage and ways she can play with other slaves over distance. It’s rewarding as a slave to know that your service is more than just a kinky indulgence. It really helps to know that what you’re doing is making your Domme stronger and more powerful.

So as the subject of these self-bondage games, it’s my duty to provide feedback and information that helps Ms Cassandra have deeper understanding and better control of my captivity. So in no particular order, here is the good bad and the ugly.

So I’ve done the tent thing, and the beans twice now. The novelty has worn off. This kind of treatment is now escalated to the level of straight cruelty. The floor is hard. It’s impossible to move around. There’s no way to stretch out. This isn’t something to use to challenge me. This is something to use to torture me.

This session was longer, but more tolerable than my first session with Ms Delia. During the first session, I was required to put the rain tarp over the tent, so I couldn’t see outside the tent. I was not allowed to know what time it was. And it was dark. This time, I left the tarp off leaving most of the walls made of see-through mesh. This meant I could see my TV while I was in there.

I also had my laptop. That allowed me to use a chromecast dongle to stream videos to the TV. The fact I could watch TV and surf the internet made this more like prison, and less like captivity, which was fine and probably better for longer sessions.

That being said, I didn’t have much leisure time. I typed and sorted beans ALOT.

It was brutal on my knees.

The chains I was locked into were redundant. The confinement of the tent prevented most of my mobility. The chains didn’t really seem like an obstacle at all. Though the weight of them was kinda cool.

I was expecting a 2 to 4 hour hogtie session. But she changed her mind. She can do that. I can’t say shit about it. That’s what I love about this. She rules me. I had plans. Hiking and fishing. The nice weather is finally here. Ms Cassandra doesn’t care. She decided that yesterday was going to be a workday for me.

She didn’t have any useful projects for me to do. She didn’t have any work for me that carried any actual function, or dignity. She borrowed an idea from a past session, and locked me in a tent. This is a fun game where the zippers get locked with a combo lock and I’m stuck in there until she gives me the combination.

And she wasn’t going to wait. She put me in there right after our call on Friday night. Then she told me the stakes. If I can finish all of the chores she assigns then I can have my cock back for 3 days. I also don’t have to wear the panties during that time. After a full week of frustration…this was a tempting wager.

My chores were to type lines, and sort beans. It was the same bean sorting task that I did for Ms Delia a few months ago. It’s really a brutal task. Staring at a never ending pile of beans for hours on end is totally demoralizing.

She assigned the first typing task shortly after I was locked in. It was the longest task I had done so far. The cruel twist was that every mistake resulted in two additional lines. This really punishes the slave prone to frustration. I would make a mistake, and then be so angry that I would try and rush through the two punishment lines to get back to where I was. But in that haste, I would make a few more mistakes. Suddenly I’ve piled up a demoralizing reversal of progress.

I made an insane number of mistakes. I started late in the evening. I must have been very very tired. 100 lines were assigned, I typed over 500 before it was over. When you finish a task, there is a message from Mistress. Imagine how crushed I was when the message informed me that I had to do that task two more times!

And while I was typing, she assigned a whole new task. I tried to do that one. I got halfway through. I had made so many mistakes, and my progress moved so far backwards I finally gave up. Defeated. I was going to start the beans. I was determined to give up sleeping in order to earn the reward. But I couldn’t. I needed sleep.

When I got up, as commanded, I locked myself in shackles. Wrists and ankles cuffed. The keys were put in the lockbox and set for 10 hours. I had hoped I could finish my work before then and perhaps salvage a beautiful day. But it was not to be. The time-lock strictly enforced all-day bondage.

So all day long. Beans and typing. Beans and typing. Beans and typing.

I finished with one whole hour to spare. And now…MY DICK IS MINE!!!!

Total time imprisoned – 18 hours. A new personal best.

I’m not proud of it, but there’s not reason to lie about it either. I am a fully conditioned pornosexual. Every day. Morning and night. Almost all femdom themed. I’ve noticed how binging on one particular type of porn for a few days can recalibrate my thoughts to crave particular things. For example:

I hate chastity, but this video makes it tolerable.

I’ve already mentioned this one, but Aria Giovanni’s made up face makes me weak.

Porn can make even the most masculine bear crave full blown Sissy Bimbo-hood

This video works because its true. There really is nothing like Big Black Cock

I don’t know what this genre is called, but I see it alot. Maybe, Edge Along With Me

Some videos don’t focus on a specific fetish. They just condition submissive men

Some of these videos are actual hypnosis sessions. Alot of them are idiot bimbos waving a necklace at the camera. But there are a few ladies that are legit.

I know Isabella Valentine is legit. She has a bunch of these Hands Free Orgasm files.

Ironically, I like Femdom Instructions, but I rarely do what she says. Only Ms Cassandra’s orders matter.

This is more of the same, but is a really powerful hypno video

Ms Cassandra still has me in panties, and on orgasm denial. That means my cock pretty much runs my life right now. Every free moment I can find, I’m peeking at porn and rubbing it. I almost would rather be in chastity….at least then I could resist temptation. Almost.

Ms Cassandra emailed me today and informed me that my hogtied sentence has been reduced to just 2 hours. I honestly don’t know how I feel about that. On one hand, I was very intimidated by the original 4 hours, so I should be glad for the mercy. On the other hand I was sort of aroused by the challenge. I really want to do 8 hours and 1 minute to beat Ms Cassandra’s personal best.

Her email suggested that she’s worried that 4 hours is too long for someone who has never been hogtied for any extended period of time. She’s probably right. I shouldn’t argue. Though I was concerned about this myself and my plan was to do a ‘dry run’ the night before. I would try to do just maybe 30 minutes and see how it goes. I’d ensure that all my circulation was fine, and that I could unlock myself at the end. If that all went well, then I’d feel pretty confident about the 4 hours.

I don’t plan on doing a very tight hogtie. I imagine there will be a fair bit of chain connecting my ankles and wrists. I’m going to do this on the bed. So I won’t be too uncomfortable. The hardest part, I think, is going to be the boredom. The waiting. The hours that pass after it stops being kinky fun. When it gets to that point, and you think “ok, I’ve had enough of this”, but you can’t get out….literally can’t get out, that’s what I consider the climax of self bondage. And then it’s all the hours that follow where I feel like a “Locked Dummy”.

So a few points to review about the hogtie. I’ll need Ms Cassandra’s input…

Release Mechanism: The original plan was to put the keys in lockboxes and attach the timed-padlock to one, and a plastic numbered lock to the other. That lets me out at exactly the right time, and gives me a bailout option that will be evident and likely carry extreme consequences if used inappropriately. However, there are other options for release.

I could use hanging ice, like I did during my first night in chains. This would mean I wouldn’t be able to dial-in an exact release time. I’d have to approximate two hour’s worth of ice which could leave me tied a little longer than perhaps intended. This adds a fun element of uncertainty. Another way to do that is with a combination lock. I’ll have Skype running so she can check in on me, speak to me, or type messages to me. One of those messages could be the combination. That would leave my exact release time up to Ms Cassandra. She could decide on the fly exactly how many hours are necessary. I’m a little wary of using a combination lock while my hands are behind my back, but I’ll test that out during my dry run. I think it will work. I’ll be able to feel the dials. It will just be a pain in the ass to look at each dial, remember how many clicks it has to move, turn around, move the dial, turn around again, make sure it’s right, go to the next dial, etc.

The next question is in regards to any other gear that should be added besides the hogtie. The blackout hood is an obvious candidate. If the session is going to be on the shorter side, a gag could be possible. Chastity belt in case I’m tempted to hump the bed?

I wonder what Ms Cassandra’s 8-hour slave did when nature called. Did he just hold it? If I’m going to do 2 hours, I think I could hold it too. 4 hours….I might need another solution. Adult diapers seem like the most practical solution. Though damn that’s humbling as fuck. I’d almost rather put a sheet of plastic over the bed and just lay in a puddle rather than lay in a wet diaper. I could move the session into the bathtub. I’ve also seen external catheter devices on amazon, but it’s probably too late to get that before the weekend.

What about stimulus? Should I be bored the whole time? Alone, isolated, silent, captive in a cell, in bondage, like an object waiting to be used. Constant white noise? There are youtube videos called “erotic dream inducers”. Really it’s just spa music and water sounds. There are 31 flavors of hypno-porn out there too. Name a kink, there’s a compilation video that will make you want it. Cock sucking, chastity, feminization, cuckolding, beta male humiliation, turn you gay, BBC, you name it. A few hours in chains is a good opportunity to plant things in my brain. If she takes this route, I’ll stream whatever fetish-inducing-porn she chooses to my 50-inch TV right in front of the bed.

So, I had a talk with The Boss today. She’s demanded that I suffer an extended hogtie session. I’ve never spent any significant amount of time hogtied, so I’m not exactly sure what I’m in for. But I’m a captive, and I really don’t have a choice. She commands, and I obey.

This will be a self-bondage session with intermittent remote supervision. She told me that she once had a slave hogtied for 8 hours during a live session. I believe her. I really want to beat that, or at least match it. But as I’ve said, this is new to me and I don’t want to over promise. The penalty for bailing out will be an indefinite period of chastity. And I really fucking hate chastity.

So we agreed on four hours. The isolation and boredom are added torments that her other slave didn’t have to deal with. He got to look at her the whole time!

The basic plan is to use locking soft leather cuffs. Wrists and ankles secured at each end of a single chain that runs parallel to my spine. Padlocks secure everything. All the keys go in a steel box secured by a timer padlock. A backup key goes into a second box that gets secured with a plastic numbered lock.

The Boss will be able to check in via skype whenever she wants. I have a super-secret skype account that only she knows about, so it’s safe to set it up to automatically accept calls.

I’ll consider more enhancements from there. But I think I’ll mostly keep it simple.

So the other night, after my usual before-bed jerk off session, I left my pajama pants and panties down around my ankles and slept naked under the sheets. This, apparently, was a violation of Ms Cassandra’s directive to be in panties 24 hours a day.

So my punishment was a night in chastity. At first, I thought it was just a writing assignment, which I blogged about yesterday. But at the end…there was a special instruction that ordered me to sleep in a chastity cage last night.

I fucking hate chastity. I’m not sure what else to say except I fucking hate chastity. It’s heavy, it’s clumsy, it definitely doesn’t fit well inside panties. I hurts ALOT whenever I get aroused. And it’s frustrating as hell to try and keep comfortable. Also, being forced to pee sitting down is not exactly a proud moment.

The cage had me up very early. I tossed and turned trying to get back to sleep but my cock just kept swelling. At 5am, I decided that I had satisfied the terms of “overnight” and took the cage off. Relief.

If this is what happens when I’m bad….then I will most definitely be good. Someday I might not have the key available and waiting on the nightstand.

All of Ms Cassandra’s public tasks are HERE

It looks like Ms Cassandra is getting the hang of the WriteForMe.org. She’s sent me another chore, this one suggesting that I might *earn* chastity for good behavior. This seems logically backwards to me. But I’m not really in a position to question her orders.

Tonight I did “Every Good Boy Deserves Chastity”. I typed that line over and over while wearing a metal chastity cage. The one aggravating stipulation….I was forced to type 2 extra lines for every typo. A few errors early on actually left me in a situation where I had more lines to type than I had started with! Seventy five lines were assigned. Because of my haste and broken focus, I was forced to type a total of 183 lines. And at the end….there was a task from Ms Cassandra. If you want to know what that is…start typing.

I’ve tried to adjust to my new panty-wearing lifestyle by conditioning my mind with porn. I’d say the results were lukewarm. I am most definitely more turned on, aroused, and focused on panties. When I watch porn, I notice the panties more. It definitely stimulates some arousing thoughts. “what would those feel like?”. And I am certainly at a point where a pantied ass is more appealing than a bare ass.

However, I’m not exactly enjoying the act of wearing women’s underwear 24 hours a day. The pair I wore on Friday, and the pair I wore on Saturday were alright. They cover a lot less than male underwear so I’m constantly reminding of my status by both the panty material, and the places where my legs don’t normally contact my pants, but now do. They felt more like I was wearing a swimsuit with a lining that was a bit too tight.

The panties I wore today were far worse. They are an XL, like the others, but for some reason they are way smaller. I struggled all day with them. My bits fell out the sides constantly. They rode downward over and over again. Eventually, I gave up. The panties beat me. I was defeated by a tiny shred of silky fabric.

By mid afternoon, I quit trying to deal with them. I just let them do whatever they wanted to do. They rode downward, off of my ass completely. They only thing keeping them on was the crotch of my pants. So it was like I just had a stretchy bit of silk tied around my thighs.

And “defeated” is the right word. I didn’t even consider the obvious solution…taking them off. That’s because I’m a weak fool who can’t say no. Ms Cassandra can do far worse things to me. So I just had to walk around all day, with a pair of red panties circling my thighs under my pants. It served no function. It gave no comfort. Just a pointless nuisance that you never get used to. Torture.

I’m currently spending 24 hours a day in silky, stretchy, maddeningly frustrating bondage. My entire crotch area is enclosed in feminine material. The gentle squeeze of the elastic edges are a constant reminder that my body is under Mistress Cassandra’s control.

My body and skin type don’t lend itself well to sissification. Turning me into something presentably feminine would be an outrageous project. I’m not sure if that’s her goal, or if her goal is to just make me feel ridiculous and humiliated. So far the latter effort has been monumentally successful.

I admit, I hate this a little less than I did 12 hours ago. Last night, I stroked off to this video. The conditioning and suggestions contained in this hypno session helped me accept my situation. “you want me to put you in panties” “you want to go to sleep in panties” “you want to feel the panties when you wake up”.

Porn is powerful. At least to me. It’s a dangerous weapon with the power to warp my mind. Ms Cassandra can control my fetishes with porn. On top of that, sissy/feminization hypno porn is extremely abundant. Many of these videos are extremely powerful. They make a really compelling case for changing one’s gender.

For now, I’ve only re-gendered my underwear. But who knows where Ms Cassandra will take this.

Ms Cassandra and I have hit a stride and now we’re trying to nail down what my regular routine is going to be. I don’t want to be the kind of guy who just indulges his dirty kinks when he’s horny enough and has the time. I don’t want Ms Cassandra to be interactive porn for me. I actually want the opposite. I’m her toy, her puppet. I’m here to entertain her. It’s her agenda.

So to begin with, we’ll be developing a regular routine with which she can occupy my time. It’s not my time, it’s her time. She can choose to use me, or not. And if not, she can occupy that time with some mindless chore, just to condition me to this new lifestyle.

In the interest of keeping my vanilla life separate from dummy life, I won’t detail my weekly schedule here. I work weekdays. I’m a divorced parent, and I have dad-duty half the week. So some weeknights are Ms Cassandra’s, some weeknights aren’t. Some weekends are Ms Cassandra’s. Some weekends aren’t.

On Ms Cassandra’s weeknights, my time becomes hers the moment I leave the office, usually about 5pm. I often go out and do things after work, but that’s not up to me anymore. If I’m ordered to report home, then I will have some directives regarding my living conditions, and my chores for the evening.

My living conditions could vary depending on Ms Cassandra’s mood and/or my previous behavior and any rewards/punishments I may have earned. All of my cuffs, chains, and collars can be locked on, and the keys secured for a specified time. Anything from a simple collar to chains that force me to remain crawling on the floor. This ensures I stay home during that time, and that I’m burdened by my bonds for the full duration. She could also enforce restrictions on clothing, food, lights and things like that. She can also determine whether or not I’m confined to certain parts of my home. She can confine me to certain rooms as she pleases.

I’ll need chores to reinforce my status as a captive. Just because I leave the office doesn’t mean the workday is over. Doing my chores before I’m allowed any leisurely indulgences ensures that I remain devoted to Ms Cassandra. She comes first. My time is hers. She uses it as she sees fit. I get what’s left, if I’m lucky.

Chores can be anything that occupies time in a way that makes Ms Cassandra stronger and more powerful. She may ask me to write a contribution for her blog. She may demand that I blog here about a certain subject. She may ask me to write essays to analyze my thinking on certain topics. It could also be something mind-numbing and pointless, for no other reason than to prove that she owns me. I could be made to type lines, sort beans, or put in strict bondage and forced to watch hours of femdom brainwash porn.

These would also be good nights to have a call with Ms Cassandra, and those usually result in some uniquely oppressive tasks.

On weeknights that are not Ms Cassandra’s, I may or may not be completely off the hook. I do have some hours to myself, but fewer of them. I also need to be reasonably available to multi-task during that time. However, that doesn’t mean I still can’t do things for Ms Cassandra. I could be forced to wear restrictive or embarrassing clothing that can be hid under my regular clothing. Chastity is a fairly incognito way to occupy my thoughts. I could also write lines the old fashioned way, with a pencil and paper. These conditions would apply to the weekends that aren’t Ms Cassandra’s as well.

On Ms Cassandra’s weekends, the sky is the limit. Spring and Summer are coming, and I really do want to get out and do alot this year. On the other hand, it will be better if I earn it. And if I don’t, I’ll suffer. And I could even suffer just for her amusement and sadistic indulgence. These really are the best times to play big games. Extended self bondage predicaments are always a hit. Anything from hours spread eagled in a deprivation hood to full days held captive in a dark closet. So many possibilities….

“your time is mine now, don’t you remember? You gave it to me, dummy”. Ms Cassandra taunted. I had just told her of my intent to do some hiking and fishing over the weekend. The spring weather had finally arrived and I was eager to do something with my free time besides sit in my room jerking off and watching TV.

“You think you can just come and go as you please? Is that the captive lifestyle?” I stammered and searched for an answer. Things were getting real now. When I had the urge to indulge my bondage kinks, being Ms Cassandra’s captive was so satisfying. But now I had my own plans, and suddenly worlds were starting to collide.

Im a captive. I don’t have rights. My time is not my own. If I want a leisure-release, I must earn the privilege from Mistress Cassandra. Her voice was cold, cruel, and demanding as she explained these exact facts to me. I tried to apologize. I tried to plead for forgiveness. But she wouldn’t hear it. She said two words. “The Cell“

“The Cell” refers to my 6′ x 9′ walk in closet. I take out all my stuff and a padlock on the door allows it to function as a prison-cell for Ms Cassandra’s most extreme oppression. This was most definitely not how I planned to spend my weekend.

She gave me a detailed set of instructions and told me that she would be locking me up Friday evening. She’s on west coast time, which puts me 3 hours ahead. She said locking me up would be the last thing she does before signing off, which meant I would be up very late before I even started.

At around 2am, struggling to stay awake, I called Ms Cassandra. She logged on to skype and verified that she could see inside the cell. I was required to show her that I had everything that she had demanded.

I had water, and a large bowl of cold oatmeal. Enough to make me worried about how long I might be in there. I had a sleeping pad and small thin blanket. And that was it for comfort items. I also had a pair of handcuffs, which she had not ordered me to put on yet. There was also the steel lockbox. The key to the cuffs as well as the key to cell were placed inside. The box was locked with the time-padlock.

I asked her how long to set the timer. Imagine my heartbreak when she said 48 hours. The whole weekend. It was already early saturday morning. That means I wouldn’t be let out until Monday morning….just a few hours before work. This was crazy!!

I tried to protest but she cut me off. Apparently there was another way out. A quicker way out. If I earned it.

A bucket hung from a rope at about chin level. The rope extended upwards and passed through a ring hanging from the ceiling. The rope ran across the ceiling near a second ring on the opposite side of the room. A loop of fishing line was tied to the second ring. And tied to that line were the keys to both the cuffs, and the cell door.

The rope with the bucket was tied to the loop of fishing line. If the bucket became heavy enough, the rope would break the fishing line, and the keys would fall. All I had to do, was make the bucket heavy enough.

The bucket hung in one corner of the room. In the far corner, was a pile of sand. She made me dump an entire 50lb bag of fine sand in my closet!

Now came the lockup. First, the cell door was locked with a padlock. One key was hanging from the fishing line. The other key was in the steel box that won’t open for two whole days. Next, I had to strap on a ball gag with a special modification. A teaspoon was mounted to the gag by inserting the handle through the rubber ball. Finally, my hands were cuffed behind my back. Again, with one key in the box, and another hanging from the fishing line.

If I want any part of my weekend back, I have to get down on the floor, lower myself in to the pile of sand, and scoop up a spoonful with the spoon protruding from my face. Then I have to carefully stand up, walk over to the bucket, and drop it in.

One spoonful at a time, until the bucket is heavy enough to break the fishing line.

I’m using 10lb test line. I have 50lbs of sand. I have 48 hours.

Ms Cassandra has made tremendous progress training me to accept my place as her captive. I’ve slept on the floor several nights now, in various states of bondage. I feel stupid sleeping on the floor. I have a bed. No one is watching me. But somehow, I’ve rationalized the notion that bonding myself to Ms Cassandra is more important than the comfort of a mattress.

However, most of my conditioning thus far has occurred overnight. I spent most of yesterday watching TV, eating junk food, watching porn, edging….general loser behavior. That needs to stop. That’s too much indulgence for a captive.

My leisure time needs to be oppressed. My bad habits need to be replaced with bondage, captivity, and enforced focus of my attention. I need chores. I need conditioning. I need exercises that occupy the daytime hours. The best part of the sessions so far have been that uneasy, gut-punchy feeling when I have the urge to be out of bondage and then I’m reminded that I can’t get out. I need more of that. Sleeping through it feels like cheating

I could be forced to do pointless chores like typing lines. I could be forced to wear crawl chains. I could have heavy weights shackled to my ankles. I could be put in a deprivation hood for an afternoon. I could have to stand in a corner for a long time. Spend time hogtied. Spend time spread eagle. Spend time strappado. I could be forced to do alot of things. I just need to be held accountable because without that, I’ll just order a pizza and masturbate.

I’ll have to think about the best way to implement this. Obviously it needs to be as effortless as possible for Ms Cassandra. I’m her captive. I’m an object. I shouldn’t have any needs. Perhaps she could assign chores on a weekly basis.

Or maybe we could just have some kind of “level” system. Level 0 = left to my own devices. Level 1 = wrist and leg shackles…..level 5 crawl-chains and a deprivation hood …..level 10 = locked in a closet for a weekend. Each level could have clothing requirements, food restrictions, and other cruelties. That way Ms Cassandra could just tell me “You’re on level 8 lockdown this weekend”, and then I would know exactly what to do without her having to really think about me. After all, who worries about entertaining a prisoner in a dungeon?

Last night Ms Cassandra commanded that I was confined to the bathroom. I had to be shackled to the toilet all night. I also had to do some conditioning assignments to acclimate myself to my position as a toilet for powerful women.

My last attempt at a forced-piss-drinking assignment failed. This time, also failed. The plan was to keep a bunch of frozen piss-cubes in the funnel gag and let them melt into my mouth. Turns out it was impossible to suspend the funnel gag in a way where the cubes didn’t fall out. I eventually set something up with some ropes that held it sort of in place, but it wasn’t great.

I managed to spend about 20 or 30 minutes under the funnel. It did leak into my mouth. It was nasty and humiliating. However, I wasn’t locked into any situation, and the imminent failure of the rope set up caused me to bail out before all the ice was melted. I have a new plan though. Next time it will DEFINITELY work.

In the meantime, all my trial and error attempts to set this up resulted in piss leaking everywhere. It was on the floor, on my sleeping pad, everywhere. I just had to put up with it. One directive Ms Casssandra had was that if I had to pee, I had to just let it go on the floor. Luckily, I didn’t have to pee. I came very very very close, but at the final minute, I heard the triple-beep of the time-lock freeing me. At that point I figured I was free to pee with dignity.

Sleeping in the bathroom shackled to the toilet was a new feeling. There was a point where I had realized I’d forgotten a water bottle. And the crushing realization that I could not go get one. This is captivity. I don’t have freedom. I can’t just go get something that I want. Everything, down to my movements, have to be allowed by Ms Cassandra.

It’s the perfect dynamic. I need that enforcement. I need there to be no way out. I need that gut punch when I tug on the shackle and realize…oh fuck….I’m really stuck here.

Tonight Mistress Cassandra and I tested out the typing task assignment tool at writeforme.org It works. We had some technical difficulty, but now we are all set. From now on, I can find any public task that she makes, with no messy emails back and forth.

The task that she assigned was very simple since it was just for test purposes. I had one sentence to type, no strange capitalization or punctuation. There were no penalties for mistakes. There were no interruptions. No complications. The goal was to test that it works. And it works.

What’s interesting is that it tells you how many “Letters per minute” you type. I did some math that I won’t write out here, but I’m thinking that 1000 lines would take about 60 to 90 minutes to type. So maybe as a rough guide, let’s say 800 lines is an hour’s work. So if Ms Cassandra wanted to oppress me for 3 hours, she would assign 2500 lines.

Obviously interruptions and other distractions available in the tasks can change that time, so your mileage may vary.

I made a kinky blog on BDSMLR.com It’s probably redundant with this site, but I want to spread as wide a net as possible. My job is to serve as a living advertisement of Ms Cassandra’s power. And it’s my duty to spread her power as far and wide as I can.

https://lockeddummy.bdsmlr.com/

Here are some pictures that I found relevant to my situation, and used to start that blog.

Last night was by far the best night I’ve had on the floor. I’ve made a few adjustments since the last time, and that made the night just bearable enough.

First, I added a second sleeping pad. It’s inflatable, but not certainly not what you would call an “air mattress”. Second, I didn’t use the heavy leather hood. It’s next to impossible to breath nasally while wearing it. That means I wake up every time my mouth closes while sleeping. Instead, this time I used a simple nylon hood. It has a hole over the mouth only. It’s extremely thin, so I can see through it, and breath through it. I put some duct tape over the eyes to ensure my vision was blacked out.

Previously, the leather hood provided a place to attache the vertical chain. This time I used a simple collar and that provided a few more inches of slack, so I was able to stand up straight in the chains.

Finally, I left the above video playing while I drifted off to sleep. I don’t know what a “Dreamgasm” is. I didn’t have any vivid dreams. But it was a neat addition. I had the video streaming to my TV and left a 3-hour sleep timer.

I woke up to use the bathroom. Waking up blindfolded is always unnerving. And crawling in chains in such a groggy state is an extremely humbling and will-breaking experience. Before I started crawling, I checked felt around the floor until I found the box with my keys, and I tested the lock. It was still holding.

Then I began the degrading and humiliating act of crawling to the bathroom burdened by rattling chains. I crawled back and just as I was about to crawl back into “bed”, I heard the triple-beep of the time-lock reaching it’s end. Some gears whirred and my keys were free.

If I had waited just a minute longer, I could have gone to the bathroom like a dignified human being.

So I managed to sleep soundly for the entire 6 hours assigned. The tape-blindfold was not a great solution, but it sort-of worked. I will look for another solution. I was able to extend my legs fully this time, which most definitely helped. I feel no soreness this morning.

So through trial and error, I’ve managed to sleep comfortably in the position and posture of a slave. I’m now conditioned to endure that. From here Ms Cassandra can use this to reinforce my position and her power over me. And further cruelty can be implemented with more restrictive headgear, and chained positions that do not allow me to extend my legs fully. Eventually I may become conditioned to those things as well

Both Ms Cassandra and I had shaky weeks. I called out sick on Wednesday and she wasn’t feeling well during the end part of the week. I was partly disappointed, but mostly relieved when she told me that we wouldn’t be playing on tonight. My mind has been running 100mph with thoughts of oppressive bondage for weeks now and I could have certainly used the break.

I was surprised to get an email from Ms Cassandra telling me to call. I was expecting to simply touch base, catch up, and talk of future plans. We’re still getting acclimated. I’ve been bombarding Ms Cassandra with blog posts and emails of ideas I’ve had and tools I’ve found. It’s a lot to process, so I figured we might chat about a few ideas and build from there.

Instead Ms Cassandra slapped me with a hard dose of reality. And the reality is that I am her slave. I am owned. I am a puppet. And I have no choice but to respond when she pulls the strings.

Last weekend I had learned my lesson about being the chained pet next to Ms Cassandra’s bed. Twice she had me sleep on a hard floor, in chains, all night. The keys were locked away in a steel lockbox. The box is locked securely with a timed-padlock that will not yield til morning. The results are HERE. As you can tell, it was a powerfully humbling experience.

But that experience was over. I had been humbled. I knew the suffering of sleeping like a dog. I felt the soreness. I endured the fatigue through the following days. She took something from me those nights. She took little of my dignity, a little control, a little more power. So there is no reason to have me do it again. That is, except pure, cold-hearted sadism. And that’s exactly how she ended our call.

I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t disappointed. I wasn’t scared. Instead, what I felt could probably be described as desperation. It was that feeling you get when something is happening, you don’t want it to happen, but your mind still tries to think of a way to stop it. Could I ignore the order? Could I cheat? Could I leave myself a way out if I really can’t stand it overnight?

No. I couldn’t do any of those things. I had to make peace with what a dummy I am. I had to accept that my dummy-ness makes me weak for cruel women. I have to accept that Ms Cassandra is my owner, and I can not say no to her.

Mistress Cassandra hasn’t been feeling well. I had a shitty week too. I’m not sure what’s going to happen this weekend. I think the plan is to “test” a lot of things. Ms Cassandra will be making sure that she has the ability to assign tasks, verify they are done, enforce rules, etc. All the logistical functionality needed to oppress me will be tested out and fully implemented this weekend.

I also think I’ll be tested. We’ve been slowly ramping things up during the “prologue” thus far. But I expect tomorrow I’ll be challenged. I think I have a reasonable chance of succeeding. But if I don’t fail this task, I will eventually fail something. As Ms Cassandra pushes harder and harder to find my limits…eventually she’ll find them. And when that happens there will be consequences.

I’ve been informed that Chastity is my most likely form of punishment. She knows I hate that. I hate it alot. But I also hate anal, and feminization. So who knows what might happen. That’s part of the fun. But whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll hate it.

I’m starting to get that powerless, hopeless, helpless kind of feeling I had been chasing. I will have to do what she says. I will not be able to cheat or get out of it. I am literally a prisoner. Eventually the kinky fun will wear off and this will feel like oppression and torture. That’s what I want. I want the catharsis of losing free will and knowing I’m an owned object. Owned. Obedient. Or else.

I’ve been doing some research and some experiments lately. Some of these were at Ms Cassandra’s direction. Others were done out of my own curiosity.

Corner Time
There is a program out there that watches your webcam and makes sure you don’t move. Basically it’s a constant electronic monitor that enforces the directive that you to remain motionless.
The Good: It works. If you move, it will be reflected in your final report. It also works in reverse. So if you position the camera, and anything moves into the field of view, the program will record the violation. So, for example, if Ms Cassandra wanted me confined to a room for a few hours, I could set up the CornerTime monitor outside the door. If the door opens, she will know. But I would otherwise be free to move around inside the room.
The Bad: The monitor’s voice is male. The program doesn’t work with many web browsers. With my browser it works, but it does not allow me to see the cam. So you kinda have to guess on where to point the lens. Also, it’s limited to 24 hours. So it wouldn’t work for a weekend prison sentence in the closet, for example

Write For Me – writeforme.org
I posted earlier about Fond Of Writing. Ms Cassandra had some technical difficulties with it. But there is a solution. Write For Me is a web-based tool that does the exact same thing. It forces the slave to write lines. Unfortunately it does not allow assignments to be assigned based on time. Rather tasks are given in repetitions of the line to be typed. Also, it only allows one text. FOW allowed up to 8 different texts that could cycle randomly throughout the task. It has mostly the same cruel twists as FOW. It doesn’t seem to have the reverse text feature. However, it has something called a “chinese whisper” which seems pretty devious.

Bondage Mittens
I was brainstorming about frustrating, maddening tasks for a slave to do in bondage/captivity. And one idea that came up was to use bondage mittens to negate the use of fingers, and thus make every day tasks seem like torture. So I did some experimenting….it works. Sort of.
I tried working on a 300 piece jigsaw puzzle with the mittens on. It was really really really hard. I didn’t try for very long. I spent maybe three minutes picking up pieces, and moving them around. All I can say is that it’s possible. However, I would say that this goes beyond mere torment and time wasting. This is actually a really cruel task that may best be suited for corrective punishment. It could be made easier by doing a puzzle with fewer pieces, and/or larger pieces.
Another idea I had involved identifying objects by feel. Obviously that’s alot harder without fingers. I have a large bowl of change and I tried sorting the coins without looking. Again it’s possible. But definitely not easy.
Another interesting thing to note: I pulled mostly quarters during my test. This is interesting because I think it mirrors what happened when I was sorting 15-bean soup for Ms Delia. All of the biggest beans were sorted first. The task got harder as it went on because the remaining beans were smaller and smaller. I suspect the same thing happened with the coins.
Overall, I’d say the mittens work, but not as well as I had imagined. These definitely rate high on the cruelty scale.

Alternative to Bondage Mittens: I suppose I could duct-tape my hands in a fist position, but leave one finger on each hand sticking out.

Is that you never know when to stop edging. It never ends. You either have to invoke some inhuman level of willpower, or you have to cum. You never reach a point where you stroke stroke stroking and then suddenly say “ok..all done!”

Rather than write another report about my night in chains, I’ll just copy/paste my letter to Ms Cassandra.

After our call, I blogged some.  Then I laid out all the equipment I would need for my conditioning assignment last night.  I watched some TV and waited until it was late enough to go to bed.  I was nervous.  This assignment was different.  The previous night, I was just cuffed at the wrists and ankles, with plenty of range of motion.  This time, my movement would be restricted as well as my vision.  It sounds like such a simple adjustment but damn…it was much more of a mental challenge than anything we’ve done so far.

I did not lock on the hood.  The collar that holds it on has a locking mechanism, but it’s in the back and I wasn’t sure I would be able to reach it or work the key, so I used the “honor system” with the hood.  The collar did have a d ring in front, and that was attached to my chains.  This relieved the neck strain that we talked about.  Since the chain just attached instead of going around my neck, there was alot more slack.  I could stand, but just a few inches short of being fully upright.  So it’s just enough to keep me from being comfortable upright for more than a few minutes.

I believe I could be restricted further by shortening that chain, forcing me even lower.  The setup in my pictures from last night is no joke.  It literally forced me to remain very low and very close to the ground.  It might be a good experiment to see how long I could tolerate that.  But last night, I had a little more range of motion and it seemed to work fine.

Well, “fine” is a subjective word.

My sleep was subject to multiple forms of torment.  The chains are heavy.  This time I added a third chain, and locked them all together in multiple places.  So every single movement was affected by the chains.  Simple re-positioning was enough to wake me out of my half-asleep state.  The chains reminded me of how heavy they were every time I moved.  The floor was hard, necessitating constant re-positioning, which only made the chains more cumbersome and noticeable.

The hood was also quite cruel.  Waking up, opening your eyes, and not seeing anything is quite unnerving, though I was trying to sleep so it’s not like the darkness was frustrating.  I imagine being locked in darkness while wide awake must be infuriating.  I think the hood is going to have to be limited to a “daytime” toy from now on though.  I’m not too comfortable with the breathways.  It really only allows for mouth-breathing which meant anytime my mouth closed, my nasal breath would heat up the hood and it would wake me up.  Luckily the blindfold part is detachable and the strap is lockable.  So I can be blacked-out without having such a heavy piece of gear on my head while sleeping.

I did get up once to go to the bathroom.  I crawled there and back.  Totally blindfolded.  Complete darkness. Feeling my way through my own bedroom, I felt like a fool.

I’m tired today.  I’m sore, and tired.  I’m groggy and a little disoriented.  I was out of bondage by 6am and chose to sleep in my bed for a couple hours before work.  I slept in extra and was late.  I didn’t shave or shower this morning either.  I look like someone who was held in a dungeon the previous night, lol.

I feel like this thing we are doing is starting to take form.  There was a time when I would have said “fuck this” and just jerked off to the idea of a remote Mistress exerting control over my life in cruel ways.  But I was telling the truth when I told you that I’ve been a lurking fan of yours for a long time.  And it’s like I’m finally in the service of my dream-domme, and there is an internal motivation to not fuck it up.  I consider that power.  Power that you have over me.

And because of that power, I really really did sleep on the floor last night.  I really did lock myself in heavy chains.  I really did wear a blackout hood for the entire night.  I didn’t do it because I think darkness is arousing.  I did it because I fear the consequences of rejection from you.  I like being featured in your blog.  I like that you’ve found value in me.  And that’s starting to create an irresistible force that seems to be compelling me to do ridiculous things.

I did not enjoy my night on the floor.  There were certainly moments were I thought to myself “get these fucking things off of me”.  And that was always inevitably followed by the realization of “Ha ha, no dummy, you CAN’T get out, even if you wanted to”.  Obviously it was safe and I could get out.  But I would have to destroy things, and risk irreparable damage to our rapport if I bailed out.  So instead, I was stuck, literally forced to endure suffering.

These feelings…hopelessness, despair, frustration, force, oppression….these are not “good” feelings.  These aren’t the feelings I necessarily set out to experience, though I expected they would come.  The fact that I felt these things proves that I was truly controlled.  It proves that the powerlessness of my situation was authentic, and real.  And that thought definitely definitely aroused me a few times through the night.

Crawling to the bathroom I thought….”take off that damn blindfold!  stand up and walk like a person damnit!”.  And then I was immediately humbled by thoughts like “you can’t stand up, you’re the subjugated puppet of Ms Cassandra and she says you belong on the fucking ground”.  And it was true.  I couldn’t get the chains off, so I was forced to obey them.  As someone who’s really more of a ‘bottom’ and not a ‘submissive’ that was a very tough thing to realize.  That thought was like a punch in the gut.

I definitely don’t want to spend another night on the floor.  It wasn’t comfortable and both times I tried it….I was junk the next day.  But that’s not up to me anymore.  And that is such an unnerving, anxious, intimidating feeling.

Thank you Ms Cassandra.

I’m nervous right now. Six hours blindfolded, and unable to stand. That’s a lot of power to give up for a long time. This will be the most restrictive bondage I’ve tried. Obviously, been in stricter binds, but always with someone, or with the ability to free myself at will. This time, I’m locked up for as long as Ms Cassandra says.

From now until morning, my life won’t be my own. Literally.

I’m actually a little scared.

As part of my conditioning, I’m required to sleep on the floor again tonight. Ms Cassandra has ordered that I do so while chained in a position that forces me to crawl. I won’t be able to stand upright. I’ll also be locked into a deprivation hood that will completely blackout my vision for the entire night.

Why am I doing this? I don’t know. I’m not a bondage fetishist. I’m not a captivity freak. I’m just a lost bottom looking to experience authentic loss of power. Ms Cassandra has committed to taking me on that journey. And reciprocating that effort is what’s keeping me honest right now.

I’m about to endure several hours of frustrating torment that does absolutely nothing for my dick. But it will endear me to Ms Cassandra. I think she will enjoy knowing that she has a slave conditioned to sleep on the floor next to her bed, without making a fuss and disturbing her sleep.

I also know that heavier play is coming. And I will be pushed to the point where I will want out. But I won’t have the control. I’ll have to trust Ms Cassandra to decide when I am allowed out. But during that time, I will need to be prepared physically and mentally to endure extended periods of discomfort. Otherwise I will break, and bailout.

And this won’t be fun for anyone if I bail out.

Fuck….I can’t believe it. I’m a grown man. I’ve got my shit together. Women are interested in me. I could have a life. Instead there is only one woman who understands that I feel affection through oppression. And I must serve her, because there really is no one else who can push these buttons. Therefore, I can’t weasel my way out of this. I’m going to do it.

Ms Cassandra caught me stroking during our last call and she was not happy. She knows I am a relentless, out of control stroke junkie. Hours of porn, increasing in depravity, multiple times a day. It’s pretty much ruined me for any kind of vanilla relationship. And after years of being a femdom porn addict, my cock doesn’t exactly perform well outside of stroking to femdom porn. I’m fully conditioned.

Now Ms Cassandra thinks she can just come along and de-rail all of that. She’s demanded that I remain chaste for two days. Two whole days. I didn’t last that long when Ms Delia put me in *real* chastity. I stroked myself through the device twice during my 5-day lockup.

I’m going to do this though. Even though she won’t know, and can’t tell. I’m not locked in any device, but I don’t want to be. Chastity seems so cruel, and cruelty turns me on. But the actual frustration of having to wear a device and not being able to take it off, is actually hell. It works great in-person, in a romantic relationship. But in this context, online, it’s just an extra extra extra mean thing to do.

So I’m going to stick with the honor system, because I’m dreading that cage.

This goes along with the previous post about being bound and forced to consume the golden nectar of my Mistress and her friends. In the last post, I talked about having a bunch of frozen piss cubes melting down my throat. In this one, I think I have an idea that forces me to consume a full load of liquid at once.

This is good conditioning for the real thing, when mistress just empties it into my mouth, full force stream, no breaks, and I am charged with swallowing every single drop without fail.

Basically the set up is similar to the other session, where I am lying on my back, at a slight incline to avoid choking.

To prepare, I would take the hose/nozzle of an enema kit and fill it with water. Perhaps just the last six inches of hose is filled with water, and the end is plugged. This is stored upright in the freezer. The end result, is that the end of the hose is plugged by a few inches of solid ice.

Then the enema bag itself is filled with fresh piss. And the hose it attached. The hose is positioned in my mouth, and the flow is started.

For a few moments, the flow of piss will be stopped by the ice plug. however, after a short time, that plug will melt and give way sending the entire deluge of piss straight down my throat.

I wonder how many messes I’ll have to clean up before I get this perfect.

Ms Cassandra was telling me today about a professional dungeon she used to frequent. It contained various cages and cells to keep a man captive, broken, and docile. She mentioned one particular cell where the man is cramped inside, and there is an opening at the top for Mistresses to piss through.

This sounded especially degrading, so naturally I thought ways to do this at home!

What I’m envisioning is a way to fill the funnel with frozen piss cubes, and then have them melt slowly down my throat. Chugging lots of liquid while bound doesn’t seem very safe, but an achingingly slow drip presents no issues.

I have a plan on how to do this. Rather than type it out, I’ll just say I’m pretty sure it will work. Basically, I lie on my back, and the funnel is suspended over my face, with the tube feeding into my mouth. I would put the piss cubes in a mesh bag, and secure that to the funnel. Then I would have the keys attached to the mesh bag, much like in my first session. However, this time, instead of the keys falling, they will just be released from the mesh bag. I’d have the keys on a string, and the other end of the string will be attached to my handcuffs. That way when the keys become free, I’ll be able to reel them in and unlock myself.

As always, safety is important. I’d use leather cuffs and have strong sharp shears nearby. I could also put a plastic numbered lock on the handle of the scissors so Ms Cassandra can verify that they weren’t used.

In addition to maintaining this blog, and living a life in oppressed service to Ms Cassandra, I have a little side-hustle that helps bring in some extra income. I really don’t want to get into details, since I really want to keep Project X completely separate from my submissive life. It’s a private endeavor that I’m going to keep private, likely forever.

Im only mentioning it here because it demands time. It demands effort and motivation and I am low on those things lately. I’m really going 100mph on these bondage/captivity games and I haven’t had the inclination to do something that feels like work. Therefore, I’m mentioning it here so it can be integrated into my routine. The details of what I’m doing don’t matter. It’s mostly typing/blogging/promoting stuff on social media. There’s some work on the phone sometimes as well.

The only connection between Project X, and LockedDummy is that Project X pays for Locked Dummy. I really can’t afford proper tribute to Ms Cassandra unless I can make some extra money. I know I will carve out the time for this on my own, but I also know that I will lapse, from time to time if I’m not managed carefully. So whenever Ms Cassandra is putting together my weekly to-do list, hopefully she will include some time literally chained to a desk, toiling away at this side-hustle just so I can afford to have her torment me more.

Note to self: find a way to make this post sticky….

First, the goddess in charge of it all, Ms Cassandra of LDW
aka: The Dicktator Read her blog HERE

She also runs another blog called Chastity Mistress, where she intends to chronicle most of my adventures eventually. There are so many parallels between the frustrating, inescapable torment of chastity, and doing the same thing with your whole body. So naturally it’s a great fit.

This is the site that pretty much started my interest in self-bondage years and year ago. I love the idea that you can play such edgy and intense games safely on your own. It meshes so well with service to Ms Cassandra.
https://www.likera.com/sb/index.php

This is another website that contains an active forum on self-bondage
www.boundanna.com

Emlalock is a service where one or two people can remotely manage a lock. Basically you take a picture of a combination lock without looking at it, upload the pic, then delete your local copy of the picture. Then either you, or Ms Cassandra can decide when the picture will be emailed to you.
www.emlalock.com

Sissy university is a site where you can enroll in various training programs. It will assign tasks, and you earn points. When you earn enough points, you unlock new tasks. There are several “majors” you can earn, and the whole thing is illustrated with some really hot anime porn. The only downside to me is that it is so focused on feminization, which is not exactly a hot button for me. On the other hand, I love the accountability and enforcement aspects of this site.
www.sissy-university.com

Will add to this as I find new sites.

Sleeping on the floor sucks. I guess that’s why they invented beds.

I locked myself up last night and set the timer for 8 hours. Of course, sleeping right away wasn’t in the cards. I was too enthralled with my new predicament. The chains were HEAVY, and moving around was a chore. So I checked out captivityhell.com and saw only two ladies were taking calls, and neither of them were Ms Cassandra, or Ms Delia.

I ended having a short talk with Ms Andi. I had to talk to someone about my situation. I had to hear a woman laugh at the hell I was in. Also, I want as many of Ms Cassandra’s friends as possible to know who I am, and what I can do. I can write, I can do photo shop, and in order for me to have value, I need to create a market. So I want all the LDW ladies to know that they have an asset at their disposal, and he’s being run by Ms Cassandra.

I liked Andi. She seems like she’s creative and enjoys cruelty. She helped me think of a challenge I could be made to do while bound. That’s the kind of thing Ms Cassandra really enjoys reading about, so I’ll be blogging that idea soon. Obviously Ms Cassandra is my queen, but so far Delia, Harper, and Andi have all expressed interest in being on the team.

After the call, (and the release) I managed to doze off. However, any sleep I got came in short spurts as sleeping on the floor was terribly uncomfortable. I used a foam camping pad, which I’m not sure was allowed or not, but it helped I think. Though not much. The floor still felt hard, and I was not even close to comfortable. I could do ok lying on my back, but inevitably I always end up trying to roll onto my side. And on a hard floor, that’s hell. If I curled up into a tight tight fetal position, then my legs could take more of the weight, but it still wasn’t ideal.

The chains themselves were heavy. Very very heavy. They got tangled in the blanket a few times. Also, I kept the window open since it was warm when I got home. However, overnight the temperature dropped drastically and I woke up freezing about 6 hours into my lockup. That’s when I had to get up, and lumber over to to close the window.

I have down stairs neighbors, so unfortunately I couldn’t let the chains drag and rattle when I got up in the night. Having to bend over and lift the chain off the ground and hold it while walking felt so silly. I think next time, I’ll try using the third piece of chain that I have to join the two chains so that they remain suspended while I walk upright.

The other problem with the chains is that they would get cold in the evening, and if I happened to shift in a way that brought my skin in contact with the cold steel, it would wake me up.

Overall, not a very comfortable night.

On the other hand. I loved it. I want bondage and captivity to become my new “lifestyle”. And I don’t want to be bothering Ms Cassandra or any of the other LDW ladies for attention all the time. I like the idea of Ms Cassandra enforcing a set of conditions under which I am to live my life whenever I’m home alone. Sleeping on the floor, and wearing chains could be part of that. and the conditions could be adjusted, changed, and manipulated for punishment or training purposes. Collars could be added. A hood too. I could join the chains in ways that force me to crawl, or restrict movement some how. Ms Andi suggested that I drink all my water from a bowl on the floor. I’ll try that for my 2nd night on the floor this week. Anything else is up to Ms Cassandra.

So far this week I have to sleep another night on the floor. I also have another task where I am to conduct an experiment for Ms Cassandra. She wants to understand the affect of certain conditions on my ability to function. She needs to know this so she can effectively manage my captivity. So she will have me do some tests this week on what I am able to do in bondage mittens. The idea is that without fingers, my ability to do certain tasks will be very frustratingly slowed. however, we have to make sure the tasks are still possible at all. So she wants to see if I can do a jigsaw puzzle without fingers. I don’t even know if this can be done. But the answer will be in this blog soon.

I hate being bored. I have having the drive, the motivation, the craving to be dominated and have no way to indulge. I hate having nothing to do. Ms Cassandra understands this. She knows that the life of a prisoner is full of routine, hard labor, and minimal comfort.

Ms Cassandra doesn’t play around. I know when she finally puts me in for a serious prison sentence, I will need to be ready both mentally and physically. So for two nights this week, she has commanded me to sleep on the floor, shackled in chains. This is to acclimate me to the life I am committed to living. Beds are a privilege to a prisoner. And I must first earn that privilege.

For the shackles, I used locking leather cuffs joined by the heaviest-duty chain I could find at the store. These chains are HEAVY.

First, here is the cuff with a tiny padlock secured through the buckle. Once locked, the cuffs can’t be removed until the lock is removed first. So these are very secure, but also safe. Emergency scissors are nearby.

Once a cuffs was locked on to each wrist and each ankle, it was time to lock on the chains. Nothing fancy here. Each end of the chain is attached to a cuff. One chain joins the ankles. One chain joins the wrists. Four keyed-alike locks are used to secure the chains to the cuffs.

One small lock on each extremity. Each one has two keys. The four locks joining the chains are all keyed-alike. There are four keys total for those locks. That’s 12 total locks into the steel box and secured with the timer-padlock. Mistress Cassandra said I had to sleep in chains. I figured that meant 8 hours.

See you in the morning.

I have some mixed feelings on these topics, so I’m just going to lay them out here and let Ms Cassandra decide when, how, or even if these things will be integrated into my training.

For the record, I am a straight man who enjoys living and presenting myself as a straight man. I don’t have any gender issues, or hidden desires to be something I am not. Rather, I think it is an exceptionally hot demonstration of power to take control of a person so deeply that you can manipulate the most basic aspects of their identity.

There is nothing about my size, shape, skin, face, or hair that screams “feminine”, so I look rather ridiculous en femme. I am clueless when it comes to make up. I wouldn’t even qualify as semi-passable.

That being said, there have been a few “phases” where I’ve put serious consideration into exploring this fetish and gone down a few rabbit holes. As a result, I do have a fairly decent collection of ladies tops, skirts, underwear, hose, wigs, and things. I’ve got a waist cincher, a few pairs of heels including some thigh high hooker boots. I’ve also got a maid outfit.

Don’t ask me why I have these things. Every time I’ve even tried to start a sissy training program I’ve thrown in the towel within a few days. I think I’m mostly intrigued by it because of the volume and variety of content out there. There are so many sissy training mistresses, so much hypno porn, so many forums, blogs, and training sites. There’s also a site called sissyuniversity.com that looks so fucking fun. I love the accountability and scoring of it. But ultimately I’m not willing to keep myself shaved, prepped, stretched, and practiced to be even semi-passable.

I’ve imagined that someday I would get a hotel room, carve out a couple days, and just go head-first into a full-time sissy hood just to get this out of my system. I’d shave, learn makeup, dress incredibly and be a total slut. But it’s not something I’ve ever cared enough about to put real effort into because at the end of the day, I don’t have the body, the skin, the face, or the hair to be the cock-popping bimbo of my fantasies.

I’m intrigued by it because it would be hard. It would be a massive amount of upkeep and training. It would be extremely degrading, humiliating, and humbling. And I admit, I do fantasize about being the girl being objectified in the porn videos that I watch. Which brings me to bi stuff.

BI STUFF

With this fetish, the same appeal applies. It’s not about whether or not I’m bi. It’s about my Domme controlling me so deeply that I don’t even get decide my own sexuality.

I’ve played this scene with a few phone Dommes over the years. Post a Craigslist ad, meet a guy, suck his cock, call her back and tell her how degrading it was. I never experienced that powerless thrill because it was something that I had *asked* to experience. So the part where my own control over my identity got stripped away was missing from the scene.

So I’m not going to ask for it. I’m just going to say that I would accept it if my Mistress work up tomorrow and said “Hey slave, today you’re gay”

Having done a few cocksucking scenes, I will admit I really do enjoy a hard, brutal, dehumanizing throat pounding. I find the degradation so raw and primal, it puts me in a deep subspace. Even now, I will occasionally cruise Grindr and try to get someone to powerfuck my skull. Sometimes I’m successful.

I’m not into men. I’m not looking to get off. I don’t want to talk to them. I don’t want to touch their bodies. I don’t like the way they feel. I don’t like the way they smell. I don’t really have a concept of what ‘handsome’ is. That’s why I still consider myself straight, despite this one bi-sexual tendency.

Femme, Bi, and Captivity

There are a couple ways to weave these elements together into a remote captivity scene with my online Mistress. I think it works best in a hotel. I have downstairs neighbors so I can’t really march around in heels for hours. Also, if there is going to be cocksucking assignments, I’d rather host strangers in a hotel, rather than my home.

So after I check in, I would have to take all of my boy clothes and my car keys and lock them in a suitcase. Also, I’d stuff all the bedding, blankets, and towels into the suitcase as well. That way I would have nothing to cover myself if I leave the room. I have to go out naked, or feminized. That essentially confines me to the room.

Then I can do whatever girls do in hotel rooms.

Another scene I thought of involves a place called Foxwoods. It’s a casino resort about two hours from me. I play cards there sometimes but I’m a pretty low-roller so I don’t get very good perks. However, once in a while I’ll get a free hotel stay (next one is March 24th 😉 )

there is also a full service spa at the resort. If you get a service, or buy just a day pass, you can use the spa facility. There are separate areas for men and women. the men’s wing has a locker room where you are provided a robe and slippers. There is a jacuzzi, sauna, and steamroom. These are definite gay cruising areas. I’ve been propositioned a handful of times, both subtly and not so subtly. There is also a lounge with TV and refreshments. Also, room service will deliver there, so you can stay for quite a while and be very comfortable.

I’ve thought about being held captive there, with my clothes and keys locked in a duffel bag in my locker. All I have is the robe, which I’m not allowed to leave with. So I’m stuck there until my captor sends me the combination to retrieve my clothes.

I don’t know how much I’d be willing to do there. But here are some ideas I’ve thought about (not sure I’d really do all this stuff, but it’s possible)

I could be made to wear some tight, high cut, women’s running shorts while lounging around the men’s area. Most guys go naked. Some guys wear bathing suits. This would be kind of like a bathing suit, but sluttier looking. That would be a clear signal that I’m an available faggot.

I often get a pedicure there. Perhaps one time I could be forced to get some polish. That would certainly stand out in the steam room.

They don’t really allow electronic devices around the spa, but I could go to my locker and check my phone periodically. Then I could use an app like Grindr to leave an advertisement out there letting guys know they can find an available hole in the spa. I could put a little code phrase in my profile that they could say, and then I would respond in a certain way to let them know they’ve found their cocksucker. Then into one of the private shower stalls or bathrooms to be used.

About a million years ago, when Yahoo Groups were a thing, there was a group dedicated to a piece of BDSM software called “Fond of Writing”. I had the program. Correction, I have the program. I thought of it today, and went and checked and old hard drive. Bingo.

FOW is a program that allows a Dominant partner to assign a typing task to a slave. You tell the program what you want the slave to type. It can be a line, a mantra, or even a whole paragraph. Then the it creates a little “task file”. You send that file to your slave, he loads it into his FOW program, and the task begins.

When the slave is done, the program will generate a report in the form of some text that the slave can copy and paste into an email. Then you can then copy that text into your own FOW program, and verify that it is authentic. No cheating.

The report will tell you the duration of the task. It will tell you how many repetitions were typed. It will tell you how many were typed incorrectly. It will tell the longest stretches of time between repetitions, so you’ll be able to tell if the slave took an unauthorized break. It’s pretty airtight. The slave has to type exactly as he is commanded to, or Mistress will know.

But there’s more….

You can enter up to 8 different text passages for the slave to type. They can cycle in order, or cycle randomly. You can set a task for a specific duration of time, or a specific number of correct repetitions. The slave will not know how long he is being made to type for. He just gets the task and starts typing. The passage appears on screen, he types it in, and then clicks “submit”. Then he does it again. And again. And again…until he is told he can stop.

The slave doesn’t just have to type, he has to type CORRECTLY. The program can tell if you misspell a word, or add an extra space. Punctuation counts. It Is CaSe SenSiTiVe WhIcH cAn Be rEaLy FuCkInG mEaN!!! The program can be set to assign additional repetitions, or add on additional minutes to the task for each and every faulty submission. Mistress demands perfection.

For more cruel twists, the program can demand that the slave type the passage backwards. It can also hide the slave’s typing from him. Instead of seeing what he types, the program will just show *’s, so he can’t proofread before he hits the submit button. He just has to type it correctly, every time, or suffer the consequence of a faulty submission.

But wait there is even more!

The Mistress can enter her own special message in title are of the typing window. She can enter up to four different texts that cycle in order, or randomly. These could be words of encouragement or cruel taunts.

There is also something called a “Distraction”. A Distraction is a window that pops up at random intervals. On that window is a tiny, and I mean tiny little button that has to be clicked before the task can continue. It’s also possible for the mistress to enter a text message to appear in the Distraction window. More encouragement, more taunts, more commands can be sent to the slave through these distractions. The frequency of distractions can be set to “never”, “sometimes”, “often” or “very often”.

So that’s the program. It’s airtight. I can’t think of a way to beat it. It wants you to type, and you must type, or it will tell your mistress. The program will tell if you type poorly. It will tell if you type slowly. It will tell if you stop typing for too long. It will tell if you try to modify the report. It will not let you copy/paste. It knows every trick in the book.

It’s actually super simple to set up. And the program files are tiny (this is from the days of 56K modems!). The distraction window has the potential to convey commands at randomized intervals which has lots of potential. “Do Jumping Jacks”, “Add a clothespin to your balls”, “Drink a shot of vodka”.

Just another way to keep a broken captive busy.

There’s a popular podcast out here where the host routinely does a segment called “Some things that I like, and some things that I hate”. It’s not all that original of an idea, so I don’t feel that bad stealing it.

First, here are some things that I like:

Ms Cassandra’s Blog and the Chastity Mistress Blog

I’m a big fan of Ms Cassandra’s blog. It’s been in my regular cycle of stroke material for over a decade now. And her latest post features yours truly. Ms Cassandra has also stated her intent to use me to help revitalize the Chastity Mistress Blog, so look for more of me there.

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1729601289

That’s probably my favorite porn video of all time. I hunted down the original source and bought the HD version, along with a few dozen photographs from that shoot. Holy shit she’s gorgeous. I have a HUGE fetish for that thick, bold, heavy, smokey, porn-star style, cake-face make up. Oh my god I could just jerk off to her face forever.

I made up a game. I stroke slowly to this video. If the camera ever zooms in on just her magnificent, stunning, outrageously gorgeous face, that’s when I sniff some poppers. Then I’m in mesmerize-town while I keep stroking to this amazing Goddess. When her breasts come out, I can stroke faster. Any time her nipples are on screen, without a bra, I can pump fast and hard. Any other time, it’s just slow, gentle methodical stroking. And whenever her pussy is on screen….it’s worship time. That means hands off of her cock. I feel this video was invented just for this game. All of the stroke changes and popper hits are timed beautifully.

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=1431574585

Same game. OMG that face!!!

And now for some things that I hate…..

Anal. I admit I’ve worn some plugs and played with some small toys that eventually felt ok. But not enough that I’d start using them regularly. My anus is not the least bit stretched. I haven’t pursued it because I don’t think it feels good. It’s not a hard limit or anything. I’ll do it if she wants me to. I’ll even train it to take the biggest toys if that’s her command. But there’s no organic internal motivation for that at all.

Chastity. This one is popular, but I really feel like it works best in-person, in a romantic relationship. It’s actually a high maintenance arrangement to maintain online. Plus, the devices are not particularly secure. The one I have can’t be pulled off, but I can cum in it a number of different ways. It’s really like being 70% denied. I don’t mind having my erection stifled within a session with other kinds of play, but simply chastity by itself, for long periods of time. No thanks. Though again…I’ll do it if she says so….

Control. I don’t want it. Wait, that’s not exactly right. I want the thrill of not having control. Yeah, that’s what I meant

This is a follow up to my first post on imprisoning myself in a closet. That post covered the basics of keeping me alive while imprisoned. This post is about what I can do to occupy the hours.

I previously posted about YouTube video called Mind Field. In that video they did an experiment that shows the human brain will take any stimulation, even negative stimulation, instead of being bored. I learned this during my tent captivity with Ms Delia. Boredom will motivate you to do some fucked up things.

First, I want to state that boredom is a totally viable form of torture. It is completely within my captor’s purview to allow me nothing, no stimulation, no privileges, no entertainment, no sights, no sounds, no nothing. According to the aforementioned video, that can induce brain damage within about 72 hours. So I would set a hard limit at 71 hours.

Ms Delia had me pour two bags of 15-bean soup into a bowl and sort them into individual piles of like beans. I already explained what torture that was in a separate blog post. A similar idea is to mix grains of brown and white rice in a bowl and sort them back out again. I’ve experimented with that. It is significantly crueler than sorting multi colored beans.

I have a small bucket of loose change. Experiments have shown that sorting coins doesn’t actually kill that much time, at least not with the amount of loose change I have. However, this is a task that could be made to be more complicated if certain conditions are enacted. For example, sorting coins blindfolded is a significantly more difficult task. I imagine doing so while wearing bondage mittens would also be frustrating as hell.

Adding complications means you can really take any simple activity and make it into a form of torment. I mentioned the bondage mittens, I wonder if it’s possible to do a jigsaw puzzle with them on. I wonder if I can build a house of popsicle sticks while blindfolded? These things require experimentation.

I’ve thought of a few writing assignments. Simply writing a line, or a paragraph over and over is an obvious one. Copying some dry text like a dictionary is also a possibility. These work because they are verifiable. My captor will be able to dictate how many repetitions, or how many pages must be written. For a personal touch, a cruel captor may demand a handwritten copy of her favorite book. Hopefully it’s short.

There are a number of craft-y tasks that seem like they might be kinda fun and soothing at first, but would get really grueling and boring after a while. Cross Stitching. 5d drill painting (search it on amazon), or doing a paint-by-number with a tiny brush.

The completion of these tasks could be tied to earning certain privileges, or even to my ultimate release from captivity. If it’s tied to my release, a contingency should be planned if I don’t finish in time. There will need to be some resources available to extend the imprisonment if necessary.

Another idea is to make myself into femdom porn. Meaning, porn for femdoms. Much of my interest in these games was inspired by videos of Rachel Greyhound. if you search her name on Porn hub you’ll see what I mean. She just endures hours and hours of bondage for the entertainment of men on the internet. My captor could use me in the same way.

there will be a camera, and my captor can order me to bind and lock myself up somehow. then she could peek in on camera any time she wanted. Hopefully she likes that sort of thing. If not, she could share the video feed with any of her friends.

So I think the key elements are 1) torment and 2) it has to be verifiable. If it’s not verifiable, it kind of undermines the point of these games. the point is to be powerless, and have no choice, and suffer consequences for failure or insubordination. So if I’m told to march in place, but no one is watching, then why would I do it?

My bedroom has a closet. It’s a good size closet. And with this obsession I’ve had lately, it’s only natural that I started to think about it’s suitability as a prison cell. Turns out, it works. Once it’s cleared of my stuff, here is what it looks like.

Alright, so safety first right? The bottom of the door has plenty of ground clearance to allow for adequate ventilation. in addition, a small fan just outside the door will ensure even better circulation. I’m going to be locking the door with a simple metal latch (like people use for a shed) and a padlock.

I’m considering having no backup key. If I remove 3 of the 4 screws on each side of the latch, it will still function, but it will be easy to simply break the wood molding by pulling the door hard. It’s not Alcatraz, but it comports with the idea of consequences, that I’ve blogged about previously. A busted door frame is not something I can fix myself. It should be enough of a deterrent to keep me compliant with my captor’s will.

And if that’s not safe enough, there’s always the “key that does not exist”. I still have to come up with a really severe consequence for using that key that is enforceable.

So it’s safe in there. I could survive in there for a few days without any real risk.

So that’s it, it’s just a room. Beyond that, every detail is an opportunity to torment me.

What about sanitation? A bucket is simple, effective, easy clean up. The have lids. It’s not the most dignified, but it’s effective and clean. Significantly less dignified would be a litter box. that’s what I had in the tent scene with Ms Delia. Luckily I didn’t have to use it. But it was an intimidating presence the entire time. Even less dignified would be adult undergarments, or newspaper on the floor.

Lights. There is one light fixture in the room, in the center of the ceiling. It takes a standard bulb. And standard size bulbs come an all varieties of brightness and colors. The switch for this particular fixture is outside of the cell. So it has to be either always on, or always off. I think having them always off would make for very poor viewing for Ms Cassandra, so I’m guessing the lights will be on.

Alternative option for lights. I could turn off the fixture in the cell, and bring a lamp in there instead. There are no electrical outlets, so I would have to keep it near the door so the cord can go underneath and be plugged in outside. I have a device that connects to an electrical outlet and allows the current to be switched on and off on a timer. The device has 48 buttons, each corresponding to a 30 minute period during the day. Then you simply set which intervals you want the lights on, and which intervals you want them to be off.

I would have a phone in there. Not a smartphone or anything fun. But a boring landline handset and a second handset as a backup. That reduces the risk of not having a backup key. I can always call for help. But the main function of the phone is to communicate with my captor. Depending on the length of my sentence, I would purchase a commensurate block of minutes and let Ms Cassandra make call backs at her leisure, leaving me totally helpless and dependent on her for any information or interaction.

I’ll need food and water. The quantity is open to determination. As is the delivery method. I could be given all of my food at once, and have to portion it out myself. Or my food could be put inside a lockable box, and disbursed at my captors direction.

I think super-gross food would be a hard limit for me. I can handle bland, tasteless, dry, etc. But if all I’ve got is canned herring and vinegar, I’ll probably just go hungry. I can live on just water for a couple days.

Next is comfort items. Options are: A very thin rubber yoga mat. The foam mat pictured. An inflatable sleeping pad (not an air mattress, this is made for backpacking, it’s bare minimum cushion). Also I have various pillows and blankets.

It’s a closet, so there is wire shelving along the two long sides of the room. Any bedding I’m allowed could be revoked by stuffing it in a backpack, locking the zippers and then securing it on the shelving above. I could use a combination lock, so my captor could grant access again if she wants to.

and that’s the basics of the prison cell. I’ll follow up with another block post about how to occupy the hours

This event pre-dates my interest in captivity and isolation. So at the time, I didn’t realize what happened to me. See my previous post on isolation with the link to the youtube video “mind field”. After watching that, I realized that I had an isolation induced freakout. It was a real moment of despair and uncertainty that overwhelmed me physically.

I was on an 18 mile backpacking trip solo. I had planned, geared-up, supplied and hiked about 8 miles to my overnight campsite. I had chosen a spot in the wilderness with a view and slept in a hammock. Everything went perfectly. I made a little fire, cooked some food, enjoyed the view, and then it hit me….

Holy fuck, it’s gonna get dark in about 45 minutes and I’m alone in the middle of the god damn wilderness!

This wasn’t my second solo backpacking trip. The first one went perfectly. So I thought I was totally prepared. But on the first trip, I stayed at a developed campsite. It’s an area where they’ve restricted wilderness camping in a popular area in favor of concentrating the impact to a single site. Even though I hike their alone, had my own tent platform, and didn’t talk to anyone, I still wasn’t technically “alone”.

this second trip was different. I was really, seriously, alone. Not even a signal on my cell phone. I don’t know why it affected me, but I felt suddenly overcome with despair at the fact that if I wanted to leave, I couldn’t. I had everything I needed. I was not hurt. Everything was going according to plan. But suddenly, I was fully committed to the plan. I could have turned around, or stayed at the developed campsite two miles back. At any point before this, I had options. Now….no options.

It only lasted about 3 minutes, and if you were looking at me, you wouldn’t even know it was happening. But inside, I felt my heart racing, and my emotions exploding.

Then it was over. and I was fine. I don’t remember how that happened. But that’s probably because I didn’t know what it was. I figured I was just exhausted from hiking uphill for 8 miles with 50lbs on my back and got a little loopy. But really it was something like what happens on a person’s first night of prison….not that I know what that’s like, but that’s what happens on TV anyway.

When I’m locked I go through phases. First comes the craving. I CRAVE powerlessness. I’m not really a fetishist, or kinkster, or bondage player by nature. I just find sexy, powerful, confident women to be completely disarming. They make me feel weak and that makes me crave that feeling of subjugation. I don’t really want to serve her. It’s more like I’m her victim.

So in that sense, any kink activity that gives me a degree of control, just doesn’t move the meter for me. Spank yourself, punch your balls, lock yourself in chastity and promise not to touch the key, etc. All that stuff requires me to volunteer. And victims don’t volunteer.

And that’s how I’ve developed this interest in locks, self-bondage, and captivity. It requires only momentary volunteerism. Really you couldn’t even call it that. It’s more like a predatory Femdom taking advantage of my lust-driven irrationality. The games I’ve dreamt up usually require me to be subjugated for a long time. That’s because that initial lustful irrationality has to subside. The willingness has to subside. To sum it up….

It’s not bondage until you want out

So for me, subjugation comes from bondage that carries on for so long that it becomes a nuisance, then a bother, then an annoyance, then a frustration, then a maddening oppressive force that breaks me. What happens next is what I’m looking to find out. What what does a broken dummy look like? What does he think like? What can he be made to do? How can his priorities be re-arranged?

So that’s the journey….how do we get there? Here are some ways I can be tormented

• Wrist cuffs locked on
• Leg cuffs locked on
• Fetish clothing like a collar, or leather cuffs can be locked on
• One leg chained to a 50lb dumbell
• Both legs chained to 50lb dumbells
• Bound in a stressful position like a hogtie, or strappado
• Confined to my bedroom (and attached bedroom/closet)
• Confined to my bathroom
• Confined to my closet
• Confined in a dog cage
• Confined to a hotel room
• Confined to my back porch
• Locked in a blackout hood
• Hands locked in bondage mittens
• Confined in a tent

I’ll probably think of more eventually

As I’ve mentioned a few times in this blog already, the premise of these games is my craving for complete and total powerlessness.  And that is extremely tough to achieve when playing with a Mistress online.  since I am the one who has to release myself, I have to have the ability to do so.  And having the ability to release myself significantly undermines the feeling of powerlessness.

The time-lock and the ice games are pretty good at solving this.  When I was shackled the other night, I did have some racing thoughts along the lines of “oh fuck, I really can’t get out!”.  While somewhat anxiety-inducing at the time….it was a fun feeling.  I knew I wasn’t in actual danger.  No one was going to see me.  And I knew about what time the ice would melt.

But I’m wondering what might happen if I’m bound in a more frustrating predicament.  Or what if I really don’t know how long I’ll be locked?  Or what if being locked suddenly conflicts with something else I want to do?  What’s *really* keeping me from prying the steel box apart?  What’s really stopping me from scissoring my leather cuffs apart?  What’s stopping me from covertly using “the key that does not exist”?

When I did the tent scene with Ms Delia, I was able to escape by slashing my way out of the tent with a knife.  This would obviously destroy my tent, thus there was a significant consequence associated with chickening out.  I was in there for 10 hours, and there were plenty of times where I would have said “I’m so dumb, fuck this” and bailed if I could do so without any penalty at all.  But instead I stayed because the alternative…buying a new tent…..seemed even dumber than simply riding out the scene that I was dumb enough to ASK for.

I need to come up with some consequences for failure or bailouts of a non-tent task.
I’ve already talked about ways I can break my toys and free myself.  Much of the gear is cheap and replaceable.  Eventually thought I’ll upgrade things.  For now though it’s an ok deterrent.  I do have a $300 backpacking pack that I would have to have to replace or repair.  I could put my keys in there and padlock the zippers.  This would function the same as the tent.  A knife will make escape effortless, but costly.

Obviously the simplest consequences would be for Ms Cassandra to dump me.  if I fuck up, she can simply say “Well that’s it, we can’t play anymore”.  But I’d really hate to enact such an ultimatum.  If these games go where I want them, I’m sure my resolve will be tested and it’s not outrageous to think I might fail a time or two.  Limits can’t be pushed until they are found first.

One idea is to add a chastity element to whatever lockup I am enduring.  The chastity release will be separate from the lockup release.  So perhaps conditions could be enacted where success means total release, but failure means I’m left in chastity as punishment.
I realize this is the trap that online Mistresses often find themselves in.  A sub disobeys, and then the punishment is just more attention and more play.  But I do believe it’s possible for Ms Cassandra to find a method cruel enough to actually work as a deterrent consequence.

Spending the other night shackled, unable to raise my arms high enough to reach my keys, made me think of another bondage predicament that I’d read about some time ago….

It requires two buckets with a rope joining the two handles.  The rope goes over a metal bar, secured higher than dummy can reach.  So what you end up with is a makeshift scale.  The rope is cut to the exact length so that when one of the buckets rests on the floor, the other is suspended high and out of reach.

The dummy is bound in such a way that his arms cannot reach the high bucket.  Inside the high bucket are the keys to escape.  Perhaps a small rock or two for added weight, just to be safe.

The other bucket will be filled with something, so that it is heavier and rests on the floor, leaving my keys suspended high in the air, out of my reach.  The dummy’s task is to empty the lower bucket so it weighs less than the other bucket.  When that happens, the bucket with the keys will be heavier, and thus, lowered to the floor where the Dummy can reach and then let himself out.

The challenge comes in emptying the bucket.  And the difficulty of the challenge really depends on what’s in the bucket.  It could be a huge amount of water.  It could be a nastier fluid.  It could also be something that’s really difficult to eat in large quantities.  Brownie batter mixed with protein powder is one of the crueler ideas I’ve imagined.
I’ve also imagined filling the bucket with food, and not being allowed to eat anything else until I’m free.  Depending on what it is, it could take a long time to consume it all.  That would be a twisted mindfuck where I sort of have complete control over when I get out, yet at the same time, I’m inescapably stuck.

This is a lockout hasp. It is used by electricians when multiple people are working on a circuit. This goes on the circuit breaker, and every worker uses his personal padlock in one of the six slots. The device cannot be removed, and the power can’t be turned on until all the workers have retrieved their locks, indicating they are no longer in danger of electrocution.

I’ve thought of a few games to play with this:

The first game uses two lockout hasps that are secured a distance away from each other. Let’s call them Hasp A and Hasp B

I could be bound in some predicament and have it all secured with a single padlock. We will call that padlock 0. The key to padlock 0 is attached to another padlock. Let’s call that padlock #1. Padlock #1 is secured to Hasp A.

The key to padlock #1 is attached to Padlock #2. And Padlock #2 is attached to Hasp B. The key to padlock #2 is attached to padlock #3. And Padlock #3 is attached to Hasp A. The key to padlock #3 is attached to padlock #4, which is attached to Hasp B. And that continues in sequence up to 12 times (6 on each hasp).

When the game starts, I’ll have the last key and I’ll be able to open the final lock in the sequence. It will release the key to the second-to-last lock. Then I can take that key to over to the opposite hasp, unlock another lock, and get another key. Then I can travel back, unlock another lock, and get another key. And I go back and forth again and again until I eventually get the key to Padlock 0.

The challenge comes in what circumstances might hinder my travel from one hasp to the other. I could be bound in all kinds of positions that limit mobility, ensuring that this tasks takes me a long time. A blindfold could complicate things. I could be forced to crawl over rice, or walk on legos. I could also be bound inside a sleeping bag or something and have to wriggle across the floor (I’d still need my hands to operate the keys)

Another use for the lockout hasps is a scenario where release has to be earned by multiple accomplishments. So perhaps my captor wants to set multiple conditions for my release, each one could be tied to a different combination lock. And I would have to earn each combination by completing whatever task is required for each.

It could also be used to vary the length of a lockup sentence. I’m sure Ms Cassandra could use this for her chastity games, so I’ll use that as an example. Let’s say the slave is sentenced to six days in chastity. He puts his chastity key in a lockbox, and then he uses the hasp to secure it. Six combination locks are attached. Then Ms Cassandra can set up whatever requirements she chooses. At the end of each day, if the slave has met the requirements, he is given a combination. If he has not met the requirements, he does not get a combination and has to wait to try again tomorrow. So failure to meet the requirements effectively extends the sentence.

The last idea I have for this (so far) is that it could be effective for games involving multiple captors. Each captor would have her own lock. Each captor can make whatever demands she wants in exchange for her combination.

So the premise here is powerlessness. No playing along. No cheating. No willing suspension of disbelief. When the lock clicks shut, I want to be completely and totally powerless.

In order to do that with an online dominatrix, there needs to be a release mechanism. there needs to be a way out of the lock that the slave can access, but has no control over. Furthermore it has to be 100% safe and reliable.

THE ICE METHOD

I’ve blogged about this one already. You put some ice cubes in a mesh sack or a stocking, put the top of the sack through a ring, and then tie off the top of the sack or stocking to a point high up. Then you can attach the keys to the ring. Eventually, the ice will melt, and the ring, along with the attached keys, will fall to the ground.

This works if the slave is bound in such a way that he can’t reach the keys while they’re hanging. For the record, one ice cube tray (12 cubes) will last about 4 to 6 hours when placed inside the sack. This may vary depending on how full the ice cube tray is, what the room temperature is, airflow, and how thick the sack or stocking you’re using is.

Another, simpler option is to simply freeze a key inside of a large block of ice. Plastic-ware containers of various sizes can be used to make ice blocks with various melting times. This would be practical for a lockup of anywhere from 1 to 12 hours.

With the ice blog, again it will need to be suspended above the slave and out of his reach. I have some wire shelving in my closet. If I put the block up there, eventually the key would melt through and fall to the floor. I could make some netting out of dental floss or something and hang it from that.

If I ever get a dog cage, I could put a block of ice with a key on top, and then lock myself inside. I think I’d like to try that. though my first instinct will be to lick the ice through the bars to accelerate the melting. It might be better then if the block was made of something nastier than water. Then there’s the mindfuck element…..do I wanna lick it in order to get out sooner?? Either way, it will be dripping all over me, lol.

TIME RELEASE METHOD

This one is simple. I have a time-padlock. It can be set for any amount of time between one minute and 99 hours. You set the time, then get ready to set the lock. Next, you push a button and you’ll have five seconds to insert the shackle. At the end of those five seconds, the locking mechanism engages, and then it absolutely positively will not yield until the time is up. There’s no reset button. No manual override.

Reviews on Amazon were mixed. It seems this is a fragile instrument, so it’s not really suitable for wearing or carrying around. However, I could use normal locks, and then put the keys inside of a steel box. Then that box could be locked with the time-lock.

COMBINATION LOCKS

This only works for combination locks that have individual dials and can be reset to any combination. First, I’ll hold the lock in my hands without looking at it and set the combination randomly. Then, I’ll place it down on a table, and take a picture. Next, I will send that picture to my captor. Then I will delete all traces of that picture. Then, once the lock is engaged, only my captor will know the code. I won’t.

So the release mechanism is obvious, I have to wait until my captor gives me the code. Until then, I’m stuck.

There is also a website out there called Emlalock. It’s got kind of a clunky interface, so I need to learn more about it. But basically it’s a website that automates exactly this scenario. You randomly set a combo, take a pic, upload it, delete your own copy of the pic, and then the website will email you the picture after a specified time. this would be an effective backup if my captor was unable to communicate the code to me for some reason. However, it would require me to have access to email, which isn’t always conducive to the captivity scenario.

SAFETY

Ms Cassandra has expressed concern about the safety of all of these activities. I’m not an insane person. I’m a father and a responsible adult. I wouldn’t be doing any of this without robust and reliable safety measures.

The ice mechanisms are virtually foolproof. Unless the climate suddenly drops below freezing, while indoors, I should be safe. As added insurance, I can tie some twine to the keys that is long enough to reach the floor. that way in the extremely unlikely event that there is some kind of snag, the keys can still be pulled to the floor.

The time lock is disappointingly weak. The shackle isn’t solid steel like a normal lock, it’s made of a coated steel wire. Household wire-cutters will destroy it in a cinch.

Some of the combination locks that I have use this wire-shackle mechanism as well. There is also the possibility of cracking a combination lock. In other words, you just try every combination until one works. A 3 digit combination can be cracked in under an hour. A 4 digit code would be longer, but not an impossible amount of time.

I do have one lock that is very sturdy and secure and uses a 5 digit code. That would require some additional backup measure. Any sturdy lock with a key would also fall into this category. For this, there can always be “A key that does not exist”. The absolute final last resort safeword. It can be in a sealed envelope. Or it could be placed inside on of my steel boxes, and then that box can be secured with a plastic numbered lock. At least then it could be verified.

I already mentioned that household wire cutters would make short work of many of the locking mechanisms I’ve mentioned. The steel boxes that I mentioned aren’t exactly Fort Knox. They could be bent and pried open by brute force. A lot of the bondage gear that I have that can be locked, is also made of leather, so a sharp knife is really the only backup key I need.

The amount of suffering I endure may influence how willing I am to destroy my stuff. Most items are less than $20 so I imagine there is a breaking point. Though I’d really rather not do that. Replacing things can get expensive, and frankly I’d rather be spending money on upgrading to more secure gear. Ultimately I’d like things to be prison-level secure where I’ll have to rely solely on “the key that dose not exist”, and whatever consequences my captor attaches to that.

I’ll have a phone to call for help in any dire circumstance. And if the building caught fire and I had to go outside, I’d just have to endure the humiliation of doing it in cuffs. Someone will likely show up with a key.

I’ve come to realize that I’m not particularly submissive, yet I’m still obsessed with femdom and power exchange. I don’t really identify with the “worship” angle, rather I fantasize about being the helpless victim of a sadistic femme fatale. Well, in real life that doesn’t happen all that often.

I’m intrigued by power exchange and have sought more than a few relationships with femdoms, both online and off. For the most part, I’ve always felt like I was “playing along”. Especially when it came to professional Dommes, even online. The usual routine is I tell her what turns me on, and then she does that, but with a domineering edge and attitude. I’m almost 40 now, and I’m just too jaded and cynical to keep indulging in theatrics.

So I thought about it, and I came up with some ideas for self bondage. And those ideas grew, and evolved, and I realized that was the path to an authentic exchange of power with an online Mistress. So to be clear, I don’t have a fetish for self bondage and captivity per se. I am craving the thrill of helplessness, powerlessness, and completely open-ended surrender. These methods just happen to be the most practical method that I’ve devised to achieve this.

No matter what task or punishment my Mistress has assigned, there was always an element of volunteerism when you’re playing online. Everything was done by my own hand, and completely under my control. Her ‘commands’ were more like suggestions.

But a lock…..that’s not a suggestion. An unbreakable steel shackle says “you’re staying right where I want you, for as long as I want you”. No theatrics. No chickening out. Once locked, I’m helpless.

And to whom should I give this power…..?

I have been a long time fan of Ms Cassandra from LDW. Our first call was almost two decades ago, and it went horribly. I complained to the service even. I was full of fire back in those days and I demanded satisfaction! I overreacted for sure, but since LDW is the paragon of professionalism, they did everything you could possibly ask to make it right.

From then on, I watched Ms Cassandra out of the corner of my eye, lurked on her blog. I read about her slaves having these intense adventures. I wanted in. But alas, I was married for many of those years, and unable to play at that level. Also, I was worried Ms Cassandra would remember our first call and want nothing to do with me. So I just watched…and wished.

And now that I have the time, and the means, and the gear, I’m glad Ms Cassandra is still dominating the internet and is letting me be part of her world.

Also, a special thanks to Ms Delia, who has also done an awful lot to help me develop this fetish. I’m hoping that both of these ladies consider me to be their asset, to use as they wish.

So the title of the post is “Why?”. And that’s what this is about. It’s about motivation. I can’t play along with the pro-domme rigamarole anymore. I can’t tell my Mistress what I want her to do to me. It has to serve a greater purpose than my own perverted kinky indulgence.

Ms Cassandra says she will blog about me. She plans to use me as a sort of human advertisement to showcase her cruelty. I like that. I like the idea of other men reading her blog and being jealous of me, the way I was jealous of so many of her featured pets over the years. I like the idea of someone calling her and saying “Please use me like you use LockedDummy”. I’ve also done some very very amateur-level photo editing work for Ms Delia. These things all help me feel like my submission has value that goes beyond a mere business transaction.

The possibilities are endless. Could this power that I’ve surrendered be used to influence or change my behavior? Better habits, or else? I’ve thought about how this could be used to force me into workout routines, better diets, less porn, etc. But then I thought; something that benefits me so much and so directly sort of feels like the opposite of sadism. I wouldn’t rule it out though.

For now, just being a drone for Ms Cassandra is enough motivation. She is investing in me, so I will invest in this opportunity.

This was a pretty interesting watch. I watched this a little bit before the tent scene I talked about in my last post. It is definitely true that the mind will reject boredom, and seek stimulation wherever possible. This definitely happened for me while I was sorting the beans in the tent.

I have a shaved head, and at one point, I stuck my head in the bowl of beans just to see what it would feel like. Thinking back on it now, it sounds so ridiculous. What a dumb thing to do? And for what purpose? But in the moment, it seemed like the perfect thing to do. The alternative, was nothing.

Instead of a prison cell, I used a tent. I like to hike and backpack. I value a quality tent. I spent some money on this. It was certainly in my best long term interests to keep this tent intact. It’s not concrete walls and iron bars, but it was effective enough for a short term scene. My only way of unauthorized escape was to slash my way out and ruin the tent for good.

My captor for this scene was Ms Delia, and she called in periodically to screw with me. Having a phone kind of undermines the isolation aspect, but nothing’s perfect. I did use a landline handset, so no touchscreen or anything stimulating. And it’s not like I have anyone’s phone number memorized anymore.

The tent was locked by padlocking the zippers together with a combination lock. Prior to the scene I had reset the combination without looking, took a picture of it, emailed her the picture, then deleted the picture, and scrambled the dials. Once the shackle was locked on…..I had no way to open it myself.

She left me in there to stew for a few hours and then called to give me my challenge to get out. She gave me a task to complete before she went to bed, or else I would have to remain captive overnight.

My task was to sort out two bags of mixed bean soup. It was way harder than it sounds. There are ALOT of beans. You’d think this would be welcome stimulation in what would otherwise be total boredom. But it wasn’t. It was just boredom disguised. There’s nothing stimulating or interesting about sorting beans.

The confined space of the tent made it even more difficult. First of all, each pile of beans started to eat up valuable real estate making my confinement even more restrictive. Second, this was exhausting

I should have mentioned that all I had in there was a flashlight, so that made things even more difficult. But the most difficult part was the physical exhaustion. While doing this, I could kneel, sit cross-legged, or lie on my side. After a while stiffness and fatigue would compel me to change positions. Yet, after a while, the duration for which I could hold each position became shorter and shorter. I was barely moving. I wasn’t lifting anything. I wasn’t working up a sweat. Yet this physically kicked my ass, slowly, bit by bit, for 10 hours.

I did not finish the beans. I think Ms Delia was ready to go to bed, or I was out of minutes, or something because she let me off the hook pretty easily. In the future, it would probably be good to have a bank of minutes in reserve for occasions like this.

I had some water bottles, and a bag of dry lettuce. I also had a litter box. Luckily, in 10 hours, I didn’t have to use it. Nature took mercy on me. I just used empty bottles for #1. It was intimidating though….I didn’t want to know what it would be like to be locked in the tent with a full litter box.

So that was my first sort of real captivity scenario. It got to feel kinda dumb, and aggravating, and I felt really shitty about myself after about 4 hours. What kind of idiot signs of up for something like this??!!

After it was over, and my mental state returned to normal, it was really cool to reflect on the completely altered state of mind. Yes it was boring. Yes I had a few moments of spaz. Yes there were some real moments of despair. But it was also a really cathartic thrill. My whole world was in that tent. And everything that happened to me was under someone else’s control. It was really cool.

I’m wearing leather cuffs on my wrists, locked and joined by a pair of steel wrist cuffs. Attached to the chain joining the cuffs is a steel cable, about two feet long that falls vertically about two feet where it meets the horizontal chain of my steel leg cuffs. I’m hobbled, wrists locked, and unable to lift my arms above mid-chest height.

The keys to the cuffs, and to the padlock securing the cable, are safely locked away inside a steel lockbox. The lockbox is then locked with a single heavy padlock. the keys to that padlock are hanging up, out of my reach.

That’s a mesh bag filled with ice. the top is threaded through a heavy steel ring, and the keys are clipped to the ring. When the ice melts, the heavy ring, along with my keys, will fall to the floor, and then I can free myself.

Until then, I’m locked up, like a complete fool.

These are my wrists

And my wrists are connected to my ankles……

It’s been two hours, and the mass of ice doesn’t seem much smaller than it started. It’s difficult to adjust to having your legs shackled. You have to take very small steps and exercise frustrating amounts of patience just to walk from one place to another.

The ice is melting though. I can hear it. Every few seconds a drop of water leaks out of the bottom and *splats* on the towel on the floor. It’s a very satisfying sound….each time I hear it I feel a little bit closer to freedom.