My Hands Free Journal

A little while ago i had to go to the 7-11 for a few necessities. I realized i didn't want to take off my bra, so i just put on my jacket and took my chances. I figured it was bulky enough to be relatively inconspicuous. And if someone gave me a look, why should i care! Wearing the jacket outside seemed to give me away more than it does in the photo. I'm just giddy over having tits. Thank you, Mistress, for being so good to your unworthy sissy.

 

Mistress asked me my thoughts on the idea of my wearing my new cock in a strap-on harness. I told her my initial reaction was that I'd rather continue to change into a girl than have a large cock. Mistress pointed out that many of the girls in the porn she has me watch use strap-ons, as well as have anal sex while rmaining girls. She said that I shouldn't replace one gender identity (straight male) with another (straight female) when there is a variety for me to embrace. She finished by saying that we would discuss this another time.
Mistress said it would be amusing to do a size comparison. Mistress asked if I see why my clitty could never satisfy anyone. She also explained that the pleasure i had felt when the cock was all the way inside me, was what she felt when she fucked one of her men. Looking at the photos, i find it amazing i was able to take all of it. As i mentioned before, riding It felt sooo good. Does this make me a size queen?

 

A few minutes ago, Mistress remarked that she was pleased that i took to my new breasts right away. She said, " They suit you, Titsy." And just like that a new nickname is born.

 

That's a comforting feeling.

 

Well, after an exhaustive tally of one vote by sis_nikki for consequence #4, I will be advising immediate adult relatives that from now on, I wish to be referred to only as "Carly".
A special "Thank you" to nikki for participating.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Well, I contacted the last of my adult relatives to let them know that from now on I would only answer to "Carly". When asked why, as was inevitable, I told them that it was something my grandmother used to call me, (which is true) and it was in her honor. After having legally changed my last name to Mistress', this didn't really surprise them. BTW, it was Mistress' idea not to tell them the actual reason, for the sake of our privacy.

 

Just a few minutes ago, Mistress presented me with a new pair of shoes with a 3" heel. I love them! She let me take a quick picture, so I could show them off.I was told to wear them at least 1/2 the day to get used to them, as soon she's going to have me wear them outside. I wonder what else Mistress has planned for me. I have come to love her surprises. I am a lucky gurl.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

This morning, Mistress gave me two wigs to try on, in search of what will become "my look". I guess I lack the confidence to say that one of them definitely feminizes me to the point where I will feel that I can pass as female. I can't help but wonder how others will respond to me when I finally present myself en femme.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress just corrected me. Her goal is not to turn me into a girl, but to make my gender "indeterminable". I stand corrected.

 

This morning I found a cute new pair of pink satin panties waiting for me, laid out on my bed. I took a picture of them for Robert, and found that my underwear drawer in my dresser now contained about 90% cotton panties, in a variety of colors, the rest are my old boxers. When I asked Mistress where all my male underwear went, she said dismissively that I don't need them any more, so she threw them away. Mistress then unlocked me and took a picture of me wearing them She got a laugh at the small outline of my clitty against the satin. She joked that she is going to turn me into a satin worshipper. She also took a couple of pictures, at my request, of me wearing jockstrap style underwear for my husband. She said it was good that I was being a thoughtful wife. She then put me back in the Cherrykeeper Micro, "to make sure you keep thinking of yourself as being genderless." She told me that sometime today she will give me a maintenance fucking. She said it was something for me to anticipate all day.

 

Mistress told me she wanted me to try to get off by rubbing my clitty lips which protrudes from the micro cage's pee hole, using only one finger tip. I started slow which felt good. Then I picked up the pace, which eventually felt like an orgasm was possible. But I couldn't get any further. I tried wetting my fingertip, but that didn't work. What happened was that I was edging myself, getting desperate for a caged cum that wouldn't happen. I finally had to stop as my clitty was becoming irritated. Mistress then told me that fun time was over, no more touching. Right now I am very frustrated. Fun time? I don't think so. Getting me aroused while completely compressed in the micro cage was I think, intended to humble me again, and was definitely uncomfortable. I think I pleased Mistress, which is what counts, not my passing discomfort.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Robert came over wanting to see my belly piercing. It was a cool day so i was wearing yoga pants and a 3/4 length striped shirt. Immediately, Robert told me to undress. So he got the full reveal of the piercing and my amazing disappearing clitty, locked as it currently is behind the Cherrykeeper micro cage. He said he liked it, that it Is very feminine, going well with my lack of a penis. He said the look suited me, as I am a natural sissy. I thought becoming a sissy has been and is, a process. Whatever. Robert and Mistress know best. Robert then had me dress, tight jeans, no panties, shoes with 3" heels, my bra with the D breasts, a little lip gloss, and my red wig. I was told I could wear a light jacket that wouldn't hide my tits. Then Robert took my hand, and told me to be subtle. We left our house and took a long walk, even stopping at a bar where Robert ordered a butch bottle of beer for himself and a girly appletini for me. The appletini got more of a reaction from the bartender than I did. Either I look more feminine than I feel, or the bartender couldn't care less having a crossdresser in his bar. During the tour, I didn't notice anyone adversely reacting to me, and a few men did check out my tits, some more obvious than others, so all went well. Once home, Mistress greeted Robert and said, "Hi Titsy," to me. Robert told me he was totally turned on from how I presented myself in a natural, low key manner, not drawing any undue attention to myself. In short, being a good, confident gurl, someone he was proud to be with. He took my hand and led me into our bedroom. Being a good wife and sex slave, I was ready and eager to take good care of my man. I knelt in front of him, to worship at the altar of cock. He hadn't exaggerated, he was rock hard. He used everything I could offer up to him, barely giving me time to drop my jeans. Then we had cuddle time and a shower. It was an exciting, perfect afternoon.

 

Mistress surprised me this afternoon with a package of black lace panties. Sexy. Mistress didn't like how my micro cage showed through, so she unlocked me and said that they looked better against skin, but would give me more cage friendly panties for every day wear. The material is a little irritating against my clitty (sensitive skin), but if Mistress prefers it, it is up to me to get used to them.
Mistress had me put on my bra, panty hose, a knee length denim skirt, a purple blouse, my chunky heels, lip gloss and blusher, a shoulder bag with "the essentials" and finally, my red wig. A spritz of a floral perfume completed my preparations. These preliminaries taken care of, off in the car we went. Where we went was revealed to be a restaurant for a nice dinner. She told the waiter that I was her cousin, and had recently broken up with my husband. This was to insure that I would get extra attention, as a test of whether a stranger would clock me as not being female. I was conscious of carrying myself and using gestures I associated with Mistress' femininity. I was equally aware of refraining from presenting any odious masculinity. I think I passed this casual inspection, but maybe the waiter just didn't want to deal with a me. When it became time for a decision, Mistress told me to use the women's rest room, to just be calm and act natural. I was nervous as hell, but had no problem, caused no riot. I don't know how I managed to appear calm, much less feminine. Obviously Mistress and Robert had decided to test my progress in practical situations. So I am now under their sissy microscope. No stress here. Mistress had me please her orally, still dressed as Miss Carly. Feminine reenforcement? Perhaps. Mistress gave me the the goal of being feminine but not flamboyant. To keep people uncertain about my sexuality, to keep them guessing.

 

I just realized that I didn't state that before leaving for the restaurant, Mistress put me back in the micro cage, to keep me in a feminine headspace.
When we got back home she had me remove my new lingerie, saying she would save them for a special occasion. She reminded me that my clitty was sentenced to solitary confinement, life without parole. She reiterated that males are born stupid and should be raised to only do the heavy lifting in life, with women in charge of the world. Some males to be raised for stud service, some for clerical support duties, but never given any form of authority. She said that I am a perfect example of the obsolesence of the traditional male and what the future (hopefully) is moving towards. In the future, she dreamed, all catagorized beta males, prior to reaching puberty, will be sissified mentally and physically, curing them of testosterone poisoning. I know she was exagerating for effect, but I tend to agree with her.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

I went to the grocery store a little while ago, and asked the guy at the register if they had milk. Looking right at me the guy, said, "No, ma'am," without a trace of sarcasm or irony. I write this because I was dressed entirely in boy clothes! I can't wait to tell Mistress.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

To show how much I love the dildo Mistress gave me 29 days ago, I sent the attached pictures to Robert, with the message "This proves that I have penis envy, and why." Mistress got a laugh when she read the email.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress and I were talking about nothing in particular when she asked me if I could have grown up being homosexual, and what my life might have been like. I had to give that a little thought, more than an off the top of your head kind of answer. Here is a fairly accurate summary of what I told her. I grew up in Brooklyn through the 60's, mostly unaware of what homosexuals did except that it was frowned upon by adults and was worth a beating by one's peers if they believed your own status to be suspect. I was almost always the smallest boy in my class, which was enough of an invitation for bullying that I was not interested in finding another way to pin a target on myself. In a perfect world I might have blossomed into a reasonably secure, reasonably happy bottom seeking a reasonably happy and secure top, bullied only by fashionistas and the guardians of entry to popular clubs. Such a perfect world, however, did not exist. I allowed my curiosity to remain dormant, being the good little male I was expected to be, happy to have one night stands with women whose names I quickly forgot, if I ever knew them. That attitude probably saved me from more than a few homophobic beatings, for which I should be grateful. So the short answer is, "no", I couldn't have had any kind of a life as a short, weak homosexual teen and young man where I grew up. I am only now finding my inner beta male, the small-dicked sissy slut I probably should have always been. I feel cheated of having that experience. I like to think it's never too late to claim who we are.
MissCarly (neutered, docile, ready to be bred) curtseys and exits her journal.

 

This morning, Mistress decided to tease me, with orders that I remain standing perfectly still. The results are a very aroused me hidden behind the micro cage, and a pair of very high, tight balls. Mistress laughed when she saw my body's reaction to the teasing, reached between my legs and said, "These are not yours, they're mine." She then began to squeeze, until I moaned, begged her to let me go. A last bit of pressure and she released me. I dropped to my knees in relief. "Mine", she repeated. "Never forget."
I probably should not have mentioned that while in the micro, peeing over my balls is unavoidable, and maybe we could switch to the larger cherrykeeper cage. I guess that was her way of telling me that I had better keep my unasked for opinions to myself. She is in charge.

 

This morning a couple of packages arrived. Mistress said they were for me. The contents were a package of plain satin panties, a package of cute cotton panties with lace trim, and 2 long aprons. 6My continued domestification proceeds. My clitty looks so tiny through the panties!
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

This morning, Mistress had me wear, while remaining in the micro, satin panties, pajama jeans, my bra, dress shirt, shoes with the chunky heels, light makeup, and wig. She told me to wear a light jacket to show off my boobies. She had me drive her to the supermarket and handed me a shopping list. She said that she wanted me to leave the jacket in the car. This I did, feeling very exposed, but pleased that Mistress had faith in me not to get in any trouble. She was going to take a walk and meet me back at the car. I didn't attract any unwanted attention, which was a relief. My fellow shoppers went about their business, paying no particular attention to me. As I brought the shopping cart to the car, one of the employees, a young man of about 18, offered to help me unload the bags. I saw him checking out my boobs, but didn't say anything, enjoying being lusted after. I realize that getting an 18 yr old horny was no major accomplishment, for anyone remotely presenting as female, but in the moment I felt as sexy as Mailyn Monroe and Lauren Bacall combined. He didn't want to take the generous tip I offered him, but I made him take it, as a private thank you for making me feel good about my feminine self. Mistress got in the car and had me report how my shopping trip had gone. She was pleased with what I told her.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress gave me a new cage. This one almost totally hides my clitty, compresses it to the point I have to wear an elastic strap to keep the base ring from falling off. As I expected, it is almost covered by my scrotal skin, leaving just my hanging nutsack to be seen. When Mistress asked me how it feels, I told her it feels like I don't have a clitty, just my balls. It's like my clitty was painlessly removed when I wasn't looking. It is a more complete denial of the male annatomy than the cherrykeeper micro, which I would have thought impossible. It is humbling and demoralizing to be so visably neutered to this extent. I guess Mistress caught me off guard with this. Mistress commented, "Too bad we can't hide your balls, too. Make you nice and smooth down there, like a Ken doll." When I heard this, I had the thought that Mistress would like to live in a Barbie world. This strikes me as an almost perfect punishment cage, the only drawback is the necessity of the support strap. Mistress has decided that the cage stays on until midnight, giving me time to pee and shower while in it. This is easily the most de-clittied I have ever felt. Not in a feminine way, just emasculated, which I guess is what Mistress wants. I will write about the results of this trial after midnight.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Well, there was the expected sensation of pressing against the cage plate, but not unberable. When Mistress took off the cage, there were circular raised areas on my glans where the skin pressed through the ventilation holes. I am still not certain if the puffy areas are a cause for concern. Mistress reiterated how the 'removal' of my clitty was aesthically pleasing. My clitty came out looking like it was wearing a turtle neck shirt. I guess I am more attached to that little appendage than I realized.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal

 

Mistress gave me a new i.d. tag to wear on my clitty. This one is just my name without any extra information. She said she feels that any descriptive text, such as "Slave", "In Chastity since..." are unnecessary, as the disk will be attached by a chain to my clitty. I am attaching a picture of my new disk, as well as one of the new aorons Mistress gave me.
MissCarly curtseys and exits her journal.