This morning, as I sat on the kitchen floor locked in my CherryKeeper wearing tights, a skirt, and camisole under my blue button down, with an 8am Zoom call droning in the background, I found myself explaining to 5 month old puppy why he had to eat the peanut butter covered medicine on my finger tip or he would not be allowed back to doggie day care to be with his friends. It was a little surreal. I'm not complaining, as I've been very blessed in many ways. This is not the life I would have anticipated.
I've been in tights, skirts and leggings all week, but today I had to go to the mall to return some things. Honestly, I can't tell you when the last time I was in a mall. I used to wear a suit to work (and chastity cage) at the client site before COVID, but like most of us my work wear has become significantly more casual and then some. A collared shirt for the Zoom calls, but the rest has grown more and more feminine. As I put on jeans and a black polo, my uniform as my kids call it, I quickly realized two things.... One, skirts are infinitely more sexy and comfortable than jeans, especially with a cage. And, I got used to dressing up very quickly. I was almost indignant to have to put on guy clothes to go out to a real public place. I've been in and out of chastity for so long the excitement of being caged in public is pretty minimal. There is nowhere I won't go with my cage, right or wrong. I go through airport security, to the doctor, on dates. Honestly, it still catches me off guard sometimes when I stride up to a urinal and then swerve for the stall to sit. So the question of the week is... Why do I spend most of my time with cock in a device that will not allow me one of life's pleasures?
My KH and I are a taking a bit of a break, so I'm self-locked again. The feeling of finally having a full time KH, someone to be accountable to was fantastic. I won't say it gave my life meaning, but it certainly gave my chastity meaning. I guess I liked my being able to show commitment to her and offer some sacrifice. In the last 8 weeks or so, she started abstaining from her routine of multiple orgasms per day. We played with denial for her, and then she went off of them completely, cold turkey. I'm a firm believer that orgasms release good chemicals, provide stress relief, and bring on general happiness. When she stopped having daily orgasms (against my pleading) the relationship started to get squirrelly, for lack of a better term. She is my second domme /KH /FWB that has ended their orgasm regimen on their own, and it kind of stinks. Now, I'm a huge fan of denial and orgasm control for others too, so this should be right up my alley, but it's not. For someone who self-medicates with orgasms to suddenly stop, it leaves a vacuum that needs to be filled to replace those feelings and good body chemicals. It is a lot like someone going off their meds, if you want to know the truth. It's contributed to the current rift. How can I love denying myself and hating denial in others? I guess I broke my daily (ok, multiple times per day) dependence a long time ago when I started chastity. It was just one more kink, then it was to break the cycle of jerking off to porn, becoming jaded then seeking more extreme porn that would get me there. Now I'm not sure if I ever want to cum again based on the drop last time I came. Maybe if the occasion was right, I'd be ok with it. A half-hard, half-hearted orgasm is nowhere as good as my feelings in chastity.
I had been out of the cage for a couple of weeks. My former KH messaged after having a "breakthrough" in therapy asking if I was 100% sure we were not compatible. I told her she is awesome, and she is, but that the way the dynamic was working wasn't, well, working. She's been flirty, and generally seeking attention, but no word about the progress she made and the blessed revelation. I have enjoyed my time out of the cage but as of yesterday I'm back in. I'm going to start the new year like I spent most of the last one locked. The 2022 goals are 1). small, smaller, smallest and 2). PA to inject some reality it my self-locking. Ah, a key holder would be great, but I can't let me perversions, tastes or sexual quirks depend on another person. It's time to take charge of my submission and who better to do it than the switch I have become?
I spent most of January and the first part of February locked and under dressing. Then I just stopped. The excitement was gone. No new clothes, no new cages to look forward to. I just felt messy and smelly and uncomfortable. I went back to men's underwear and really questioned what I was thinking. Not having someone to share it with is a bummer sometimes. Without a cage and the excitement of dressing, I looked to booze to deaden the blow. It's a depressant, I'm sure you know. And man, it was working on me. Trying to have some peace and gain some clarity was a good move. I'm going to be OK. Day 16 without booze and Day 4 back in the cage. If I'm found having fallen down the stairs in my heels and broken my neck, I will be sober, en femme and caged. I'll have gone out happy and in matching bra and panties.