My Hands Free Journal

This will be a little long as it will cover Tuesday and Wednesday.
Tuesday
This is an early house. As yesterday, Adrian woke me to begin work at 5 A.M.
Later she told me it was time for her to wake Master with a blow job. I asked her if it would be all right if I joined her. (I wanted to show him my appreciation for letting me stay in his home) . Adrian was obviously surprised by my offer, but said Master would no doubt be pleased with my participation.
That evening Adrian brought me into the cellar and showed me a custom made cage, long enough to lay down in, narrow enough to keep the occupant immobile. It opened like a coffin. The floor was covered by wood planking. There was a drain by the end where the prisoner's feet would be. She told me to get in and see how it felt. I did so, telling her whoever was put in the cage had better be ok in confined spaces. Adrian said, "Let's see if you are," and in one smooth movement, locked me in. Adrian then went upstairs, with the parting information that the basement was soundproofed, so if I lost it during the night and started screaming, no one would hear me. "And by the way," she told me, "we have rats down here. Try not to excite them." I felt like Charlie Brown when Lucy pulls the football from him. "You blockhead, Carly Brown!" I said to myself. So that's how I spent the night cursing Adrian and eventually soiling myself.
Wednesday
Adrian woke me in the cage around 5 a.m. by hosing me down with cold water. This not only shocked me awake but did double duty of cleaning out the cage. Once out, she handed me a rough towel to dry myself. I could easily become frightened of her. She wore the shortest of skirts, a halter top and the same leather collar. Black hightops completed her outfit. "Upstairs," she said, in a commanding voice.
The day went as usual, with Adrian and I doing chores and admitting visitors. I realized that Master presided over something like the classic salon, where interesting people were welcome. Which is why, I guess, his visitors were used to his having servants who were either naked with a chastity cage or dressed like a slutty punk cheerleader.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Thursday
I have gotten used to the house routine. Early rise, ablutions, chores, breakfast, wake Master, chores, lunch, chores, serve visitors as needed, dinner, freetime, and bed.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Friday
After lunch, Master had Adrian and I join him in the playroom. He said that he was disappointed in how Adrian had treated "our Cissy" and would now be punished. He told her to strip. He then unlocked her from her chastity belt. The mystery was finally answered. Adrian is a small trans woman with an exceptionally small penis.
Master chained her where I had been chained Sunday, having to lower them to accomodate her shorter body. He picked up a switch and beat her backside, leaving vivid red stripes on her cheeks. As he unlocked her, he said, "Manners are the bedrock of civilization." I knew I would always remember him saying that. He put her in the cage, and locked her in. He told her she would go without dinner. Master instructed me to bring any visitors to the playroom, where they could view Adrian, and if they wanted, urinate on her through the cage bars. Even though I was the "injured party," this punishment seemed unnecessarily harsh, but I kept my opinions to myself. I was surprised that Adrian had submitted to this without protest, as she doubtless knew what to expect. Her devotion to her Master was impressive.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal

 

Saturday
Master told me to wake and free Adrian. I did this, hosing her clean. Then I gave her the same rough towel. After lunch Master had me give him a blow job with Adrian watching, looking oddly jealous. Then I was given back my clothes and waited for Mistress to pick me up. As I was leaving, Adrian hugged me and gave me a long kiss. As we parted, I realized she had made certain that Mistress would see us. For a submissive, she is very strong willed.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress unlocked me and had me put on satin panties. She then took some photos of me and sent them to Robert. There are 2 photos of me in the panties, one with my soft clitty showing, and one with my clitty futiley trying to get hard. Perhaps I'll never get fully hard again. One of me wearing a black leather collar that says "SISSY" in glittery, sissy letters, and one of me wearing a plain pink leather collar. Mistress told me that I will be wearing them outside, whenever she chooses. She told me the photos are for Robert's enjoyment or amusement, as well as her own. She also told me that any humiliation I experience from attaching them to my journal is a bonus.
Mistress has instructed me to reaffirm my gratitude that she continues to train me to be the sissy she wants me to be. I have learned that my true dignity and pride comes from my servitude to her.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Earlier today, Mistress took a number of photos of "My Sissy", and told me which ones to post now. She said she still has to decide which others she wants me to post.
MissCarly humbly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress made the observation that my frilly satin panties are women's bikini cut. She said that my clitty is so small the panties easily contain my package, while her boyfriend would be poking out of them. She said that when I put my panties on every morning, I will be reminded that I am not in any way a real man, but a "micro-dick sissy".
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal

 

Mistress can be counted on to give a close shave when she chooses to. I still get a little nervous when she puts the razor to my balls.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Today Mistress told me I was to give myself a ruined O, with the aid of the prostrate massager and/or my dildo. She said that she wanted me totally drained of any "annoying residual maleness", leaving me with a limp clitty in my panties. She said she wants me to get used to being "the next best thing to being impotent." The toys eventually produced the desired effect. Mistress
shook her head as I whimpered while I slowly spilled out of a clitty that had not gotten close to a full erection. "Pathetic," she said.
She made me swallow my...cum is not quite the right word, as it conjurs a particular image, so as Mistress calls it, "sissy water." I was surprised to find it tasted sweet. Attached are a photo of today's panties, the massager in place and humming away, plus a size comparison of my toys. I am amazed that between the various settings on the massager and the girth and length of the dildo, neither toy got me hard.

 

Mistress told me to drop my panties for a "touchup", and wagged the razor in front of me. She said she wanted to get any stray hairs she might have missed yesterday. So I sat in a straight back chair and held still while Mistress shaved my crotch, humming a tune from Sweeny Todd. Sometimes she has a dark sense of humor. When she was finished, she had me show her that my clitty is still limp and useless. She laughed when I showed her that I was completely limp. Needless to say, pictures were taken, and sent to her boyfriend, her sister,. Mistress said that they wouldn't believe that I was so thoroughly emasculated without proof. Mistress began sucking on my clitty, without effect. I remained soft and lifeless in her mouth. She said that she doesn't see any reason to lock up a useless limp little clitty like mine, but will do so at the first sign of even a twitch. I feel that I am approaching what Mistress has been training me for, being permanently soft, virtually castrated. Right now, my clitty is practically a vestigal organ.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress just told me she doesn't want to ignore my "pitiful clitty," as it is her property. She had me put in my P.A. ring, to which she added another ring and my i.d. disk. She then used the reverse pliers to seal the first ring to my clitty, with what seemed like a very loud click as the ball was seated. She said "now it is useful." I thanked her for her attention. She also said it makes more sense to use my clitty to tag me rather than unncessarily cage it. I find being told that wearing my cage is redundant is much more demeaning than being locked up. A sub can become proud of wearing their Master's cage, but I think it will be impossible to be proud of being impotent, which might (or might not, which I have to admit I would prefer) be my new normal. For some reason, I had a very strong feeling of the rings being SEALED to my clitty this time, like the slave marker it is intended. I can't help but feel I am losing what little sense of "maleness" I might still possess. Mistress wants me to no longer think of myself as "male", but rather find my dignity as her sissy and slave, a former male. She said I will never be blessed with being female, but I can be guided to being feminine. She said I don't need to be caged. "A eunuch," she said, "is no threat." Having been told all this, it is difficult to think of myself as being, even partially, a man. I have, after all, accepted that I am her sissy and slave, however she chooses to define me.

 

Earlier today, Mistress told me she was taking me shopping. I was going to pick out a dress for myself, something comfortable. Yikes, I've never bought a dress, had no idea what would look pretty on me, or be comfortable. Mistress noticed I was uneasy and chose to ignore it, preferring to be the leader of an adventure. Photos attached, giving you my "Portfolio Poses. Obviously I could never be a model, unless it was to give Mistress a laugh or two. In the last 3 photos, I am wearing the B cup bra. I can see how it gives the top some contour. At least I didn't say, Fabulous!" Mistress said that I need to work on my dress buying choices.

Later, Mistress told me that she knows that during my stay at the Master's house, I had been told to answer to the name "Cissy". She said that was cute, but if I am to go by another name when serving, it will be a name that she chooses. She asked if I had any preferances, but I blanked on it. Mistress said it should be feminine, but not too cutesy, slutty, but not disgustingly so. Mistress said that so far she is considering Betty Jean (aka BJ), Alice (Through the Looking Glass), Juliet (Romeo and...), Kissy ("Now a Black woman is Master and can name her white slave boy Kissy, just because it is both funny and demeaning"), Orchid (from the Greek for "testicle"), Pearl (after Pearl Bailey),and Dolly (because she loves Dolly Parton). I suggested that I ask the people who read my journal to make suggestions. She agreed, saying she doubts I'll get any replies. So, does anyone have any suggestions what name I should use when serving as maid or plaything? Please help.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Thanks for the kind words. I like Dolly, but does it sound too cutesy? Is it possible for a sissy's name to be too cutesy?I will pass your suggestion along to Mistress. Is it wrong that I take a certain pleasure that she was wrong about nobody being interested in taking part in the process?
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal (practicing a little hip swaying as she does so).

 

Very nice. Did you say in your best Dr. Evil voice, "Throw me a frickin' bone"

 

I was surprised to find in my email a photo of me shaving my head. I had no idea Mistrress was just outside the bathroom taking pictures with her phone.
When i asked Mistress about the photos, she said she likes watching me when I'm unaware of her.
She then told me to hold my clitty, because she wanted to see it droop, to take a picture of it with it's rings. Feeling humbled, I complied,. We both watched it droop from my fingers, without any signs of life. My little guy was flatlining. Mistress captured that shining image.

 

After doing my laundry the other day, it occured to me to document the contents of my underwear drawer for the amusement of whoever reads this.
Top right are frilly coton panties, the rest are frilly satin panties.
Mistress peeked over my shoulder and asked what I was doing. When I told her, she said, "That's not a lot. Gurl, I'm ordering more for you right now!" Apparently her sissy can't have too many frilly satin panties. Mistress spoils me. I am so proud right now to be her sissy gurl. It's no wonder that I love her.
Later: Mistress has taken a few photos today to catch "the real" me. Finally we were relaxing, just talking when she reached over for her phone and told me not to move. She said, "That's it, the real you, body and soul in one image!" The attached are apparently how she sees me, the last shot being The Real Me, body and soul.

 

Hooray, last night Mistress got my clitty to get semi hard (my usual) and true to her word, locked me up on the spot. I am now in the small Jailbird, because "why waste the space in the larger one." I owe it to Mistress licking my clitty while her boyfriend took me from behind. The boyfriend liked the challenge of trying to revive the coma victim. "Too bad," Mistress said, "I like the idea of a limp sissy."
I'm not sure if pictures of me wearing a cowboy hat are particularly sissy, or give the illusion I might be female, or at least of indeterminate sexuality, but Mistress likes them. She calls the photos The Brokeback Mountain Collection.
While reviewing the fifth and sixth photos, Mistress smiled and said, "Save a horse, ride a cowboy" She also said she liked how my ass looks in the sixth photo. "Looking fuckable, sissy," she commented. Good thing she doesn't have a branding iron.
I just noticed, between the black mask and the cowboy hat, I look like I just robbed the noon stage.
I've added 3 photos that Mistress put captions to. She did a good job with them.

 

Mistress and i discussed my having a "Service Name." While I am opposed to it on general principle, Mistress seems to like the idea, as a furtherance of my sissification. Ok. I just made up that word, but you get the idea. I don't want to name the front runner. We shall see.
Tonight I went to Manhattan to have my navel piercing exchanged for a new jewelry. My piercer told me the new jewelry was too heavy and could tear tissue. Yikes! Jinkees! So i decided to be proactve, and switch to a lighter jewelry when I get home, before there's a problem.
Later, I walked around Greenwich Village, and had my first beer in 9 years. Bliss! I had that beer (and a few others) in the Stonewall Inn, the site of the Stonewall Riots, and the beginning of Gay Pride. It is a histotic, yet low key place. Makes me proud to be a New Yorker. I bought a softball jersey there, picture attached. Hoping i don't get beat up on the street tonight as a tranny, fag , queer, etc, fill in your own hate rhetoric.
The Village is very accepting of all, so I should be ok. I love my city.
All the while I was in the Village, i had my pink collar locked around my neck with the tag, MISS CARLY. Mistress didn't tell me which tag was attached before locking it. A woman in the Stonewall was nice enough to tell me what it said. She was amused that I didn't know what it said, all day.
Backing up a bit, I went into the city wearing my B cup bra under my shirt. Mistress didn't know this, so i didn't have my normal support system in place. At first I was selfconcious, and covered up my tits, almost afraid. Then common sense took over. I didn't wear my tits to hide them! So i let my bra show, and guess what, nobody paid me any attention. Kinda finny how I at first expected to be the victim of a sexual assault. Ego showing through, maybe. Walking around the city, not hiding my tits, occasionally letting mly bra. show...it was very liberating.

 

This morning, Mistress told me she had a present for me. It was a set of 3 silicone butt plugs (a "trainer set"). They were 2.75", 3.25", and 4". She told me that she would start me off with the larger 4" plug, as she considered my ass to be in the advanced class. It slid in with a minimum of effort. Mistress took a photo, and said that I'd be wearing it all day. And I did, including a trip to a couple of stores. She would smile and ask me how I'm doing. We stopped in a bar, and Mistress said, "Bottoms up." Thoroughly enjoying my situation. A few minutes ago she told me I could take it out to do what I had to do, and put it back in until I go to bed.

 

Well, it turns out my body was rejecting my belly ring. It was very sensitive, sharply painful if i accidentally brushed against the jewelry. I had a doctor's appt the other day about another matter, and took advantage of the opportunity to get her opinion of what I should do. I had looked forward to the adornement, as did Mistress. She said there is a silver lining to this. Once the piercing fully heals, she can decide when and for how long to put me in the full belt. In addition, no ring means she can have me wear a corset, if it pleases her. It seems that one way or another, Mistress plans on stepping things up.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress has had me out of my cage for the last few days, wearing my satin bikini panties because, she has told me, my cage is deceptive in it's rigidity, being false advertizing. She said that my usually small, soft clitty gives no indication of manliness, which is how she wants me, as my clitty is mostly useless. She said that soon she is going to send me to a gay bar, certain that when my lack of package is noticed, no man there will be interested in me. She might be right. It is an experiment I find myself looking foreward to, in spite of the probable multiple rejections.
To make me feel more feminine during the experiment, Mistress has decided that I introduce myself as "Dolly." Yeah, that should do the job.

 

Mistress wanted to document my going into the small Jailbird, including the ring closed by the pliers, the ring lighter, less bulky than a padlock. I don't know what brought this about, but it's not mine to question why.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.