My Hands Free Journal

Mistress called me this morning and told me to lock my clitty in the small jailbird, to "keep it nice and snug". So that's where I am now. She implied that she might not release me until Christmas, for my own good, whatever that means.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress just sent me the attached. It's nice to be remembered.

 

Mistress texted me to send her a photo of my clitty out of her cage, then lock it back up. I did this and was soon rewarded with a text: "That is fucking hilarious! I'm gonna have to pass this around."

 

Thanks.

 

Before shower, Mistress pointed out, "One lonley tear."

 

Wednesday afternoon, I mentioned to Mistress that there are only six days left in Locktober. She replied that the idea of Locktober is arbitrary. It could be extended to the end of the year, or even the end of next year. She said that 2025 has a nice ring to it. She said that how well I please her will determine when, or if, my clitty gets another chance at erection and orgasm. "It's up to you." As I think back on this, I can almost feel my cage getting tighter around my penis, what little there is.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Today, Mistress told me she had had a dream where all males were, by law, caged at the age of ten. This was done at special clinics, under scrutiny of National Police officers. The cages were checked regularly for fit, but the length always remained the same at one inch. The exception was the men set aside to please the women, known as Priests of the Priapus. They lives were devoted to perfecting the erotic arts, dedicated to please women. She said it was the perfect matrarchal society, where men were literally second class citizens, with no right to vote, own property, hold executive positions, be politicians, lawyers, etc. Married men were "wives", and women were "husbands" to preserve the authority implied by those titles. Men were encouraged to be femiinine, and were given female hormones "To correct nature's mistakes and aid in keeping them docile. Mistress told me this with a smile on her face, envisioning her ideal reality.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

I was in bed with Mistress earlier, surprise surprise, and she began talking about adjusting my diet to help me lose weight. She said that maybe I should remain locked up until I reach a goal she sets, instead of a random date like New Year's Day. (!!!). Then we could explore options to give me titties. That one caught me off guard. There was no lead up to this, just sharing what was on her mind. My immediate takeaway from this is that it's a good thing my 2 1/4" Jailbird is comfortable.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress has gifted me with a new cage which does double duty as a sph device.
She said that it is something I must wear as a sign of my lack of masculinity, mocking my tiny penis, and how it has shrunk, showing my a true humiliation.. I am not sure how I feel about it.

 

Ten months denied p.i.v., my clitty locked away as part of Mistress' ramped up demasculination of yours truly. I am at the point where I am starting to be indifferent to even the thought of having sex, which Mistress says brings me closer to being her ideal sissy wife: able to please her when told to, but not pestering her with the annoying male desires which used to control me. Mistress says that I am transitioning to being feminine internally, which is important for me, and satisfying for her.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Sitting in a local bar/restaurant while wearing my penis tube, Mistress and I agreed i should send my jailbird back for a slightly larger base ring. That should make the perfect fit. I sit here at the bar, very aware of myvlitty's confinement. I find almost every woman here so very attractive. I am surprised that i feel so horny, and yet so detached from sex
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress and I went to a local charity event: raffles, casino style gambling, dancing, dinner, award presentations, pretty much what you'd expect. I wore a suit, whose fairly thin trousers did not complerely hide the bulge of the steel tube between my legs. Before we left home, Mistress instructed me to "deal with it as best you can, princess." In a rare showing of compassion, Mistress had me remove my nail polish for the evening, saying that it would draw unwanted attention to us, and raise too many questions she did not want to deal with, nor have me, and therefore us, be a figure of gossip. As soon as we were home Mistress had me undress and repaint my nails black, and apart from my chastity (of course) remain naked for the rest of the night. Just another normal evening of chastity life. Well, my chastity life. Wiith a "gala" thrown in. BTW, we didn't win any of the raffles. C'est la vie.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Received 5 new female cut shirts today, part of her stated plan to transition most of my wardrobe to be coming from the women's section of the catalog. So cool! Plaid shirts and long sleeve pullover shirts, all lighter weight than the average male shirt, the better, she said, to show my nipples. Mistress said that sooner or later someone will notice my shirts button on the "wrong" side, and I'll have fun explaining this. (I'm already at 100% panties.)
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress said to me that since we have already just about finished out NOvember, we might as well go for December as well, making Locktober at least a three month fun time. We will stick to unlocking me every Sat. for a full cleaning, otherwise I remain locked.
Mistress said the dick that disappointed the model in Photo no. 5 is bigger than I am, which amused her.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress put me in a new cage today, what she called a zero access manhole cover. Just another way of her making my penis (clitty) effectively disappear. While locked in this cage, sitting to urinate is not an option but a necessity. Mistress had me pee standing up to test it. A narrow stream jetted out at an angle, making a messy job of it. I quickly sat down to finish, mortified at the mess I had uncontrollably caused. When I had finally stopped, Mistress had me throughly clean the bathroom and myself. It might sound strange, but I have come to take some satisfaction from these denials/sissifications, knowing Mistress wants me to think of myself as essentially feminine. Attached is what Mistress calls her favorite portrait of me.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Last night, Mistress had me lay in her bed, next to her. She fondled my balls, provoking the attempt at the slight erection it is still possible for me to achieve. My cage did it's duty, keeping my clitty in check, and invisible. The battle was fought, and I never saw it happen. Tonight, she has me wearing the new cage, or more precisely, the clitty cover. She said it is cute to see my clitty lips just poking out of the small hole in the front. If the hole was just a little larger, it would be less prone to making a mess.
Mistress reminded me that I don't have the equipment to do the job. "As we are both well aware", she said, with little humor.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

11 days locked in the sph cage. Mistress has suggested that I might be wearing it for a considerable time, that I might even forget what my real clitty looks like. Mistress makes me close my eyes when the cage comes off for cleaning, in futherance of that goal.
My hemorrhoids bled a little after Mistress pegged me last night, causing her to decide to suspend all my anal activity, which means I can now only give oral sex, inspiring Mistress to say that with my new focus, I will become a better cock sucker. Mistress put me to work using my tongue first thing this morning. No orgasms for her, she just lay back, enjoying being served by her wife.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

After lunch, Mistress had me change into the steel tube that bends back between my legs. She prefers that I tuck myself into the tube with my pinky fingers. She said she likes the noise the padlock makes against the tube whenever I move, like a bondage version of the bell people attach to their cat's collar. The size alone is a reminder that I'm locked in chastity, my genitals the property of someone else. The change in cages probably triggered this introspection. If she could, I feel almost certain Mistress would lock my balls away, removing any sign of my gender. This is the life I've agreed to, that of a Mistress' chastity slave.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Recently I had noticed that after I urinated while standing up, when out and had no choice, the front of my jeans might be damp to fully wet. I pointed this out to Mistress, who decided to watch me next time I had to pee. She said the problem came from a combination of my now having an embarrassingly short penis and my Prince Albert hole, leaking straight down my jeans while peeing. If I was partially stiff, something we can't take for granted, the leaking wouldn't hit the front of my jeans, and I could walk away dry. We talked this over, neither liking the "wet roulette" gamble. It was Mistress who hit on the idea that if I wore the SPH tube, I could direct my urine flow past the front of my jeans, walking away dry and happy. So, Mistress said that my being in that particular chastity device has one more practical purpose. She ignored the fact that she had chosen, with my cooperation, to shrink my penis. She said that I should consider it something that I, being gender queer, will have to adapt to. She said we will go to a local bar this afternoon to give her theory a test. Mistress observed that with this new issue, I can either accept that I have to remain locked in chastity or I can go through life wetting myself. So, I am wearing that chastity device while typing this, Mistress looking at my crotch. I almost feel that I have a penis replacement prosthesis, as this hard plastic device, in low lighting, looks fairly real. Maybe that's why she has a small smile. My options are slowly diminishing.
Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Mistress had me open a small box that had arrived in the mail. In it was a micro cage, the "Pink Abomination", from Lock the Cock. I did not find the name endearing. Mistress told me to wash it and put it on, putting the key in my hand. So far, I have no complaint on the fit or comfort. I have been instructed to wear it overnight and give a report in the morning, including ease of urination. I had hoped I had left homework well behind me. Experience tells me that a standing urinal would work best, due to the angle of peeing, followed by a seated position. Key is spreading the scrotal skin, making a clear opening to pee. One more example that Mistress has trained me to find comfort in being locked in chastity. The micro cage compressed my clitty, further demasculinizing me. Once unlocked, I had to pull my clitty by the head to get to stretch out. It was as though it had it's spirit broken and had chosen to hide in on itself.
Securly locked, Miss Carly curtseys and exits her journal.

 

Here are a few attachments that seem appropriate.

 

Attached is a funny photo, which looks oddly practical.