Over recent months, this blog has had entries like buses – none for ages then a few come along at once. There is and was a very good reason for this, and I can sum it up in one word. Indulgence. That started, according to my social media timeline anyway, on November 5th 2019 when everything did indeed fire into life again with little if no explanation.
A previous blog entry, one that had sat on a memory stick for around two months, said that I’d already been in the general direction of where my lingerie was stored whilst selecting a chastity device of preference, but usually with a heavy sigh, merely left things well alone lingerie-wise and merely applied myself to partial lock up instead.
The 5th November 2019 was different. It was to try and reflect back – I’d probably sum up a period of personal turmoil – a variety of domestic issues and a busy lifestyle were taking their toll and the resumption of lingerie crossdressing just felt right as a sort of coping mechanism – for whatever reason – and it merely happened. I don’t remember what I wore – it was probably something easily to hand or of preference at the time.
Everything resumed. Exhibiting on webcams, social media pics etc. This was an outpouring of activity tantamount to catching up on where I had left off previously.
An array of other responsibilities became a distant second in the order of priority. The focus was, much like it used to be, on planning, yearning for certain outfits, certain devices and as the order arrived for plugs, so too did the curiosity for exploring anal play, the plugs soon put to use outside the periods where I was not using a dildo. Apart from being dressed for work almost every day, there was ample time to enjoy the peace and solitude of being home alone each morning, calmly dressing, locking, plugging and/or playing, experimenting.
There was also a natural progression towards a second go at indulging in correspondence with a Mistress. Having already experienced the wrong side of such activity, parting with money only for nothing but abuse in return, I was left scarred, yet this new Mistress continued to speak in my language on her social media posts.
Absolutely everything she said and the way she said it, resonated with me – I related to every minutiae of detail and I told her so in open replies.
Having already had permission to DM her to report an abusive troll, I saw another post from her about taking on another sub. I’d already made a pact in my own mind to dedicate myself to her without being owned (as I could not see any other conceivable way to give myself to her) and duly declared this on my social media page header.
When she posted something about being owned, I openly replied as to how good it would be, in theory, if I could be under her ownership, yet being closeted, said that it would be difficult to perceive a way as to how this could happen.
She invited me to DM her once more, sure in her own mind that there would be a way – again, this particular Mistress was very much speaking my language.
Mistress does not freely and simply take on any old sub. To her, quite reasonably, they have to show signs of dedication, attention, focus and above all – trust. I suppose, by reporting a troll (one that she knew about, had blocked and said that she was made of tough stuff to deal with what was said about her – the fact they were blocked meant she didn’t see it so it was a waste of the troll’s time anyway) I’d shown an intent to serve. I wasn’t one of those one-way traffickers only in it for my own sexual relief and, happily, it seemed that I had said enough to demonstrate that I was not just another of those apparently many social media time-wasters only in it for themselves.
In short, she took me into ownership as her sub – and I have been ‘owned’ by her since then.
For the best part of four and a half months, I was dressed, locked and plugged in her servitude on an almost daily basis. She decided what I wore, selecting outfits, colours etc. and chose the chastity device to be worn as well as the type and size of plug.
My intent to serve became more evident on acquisition of a Lovense Hush plug, which can be remote controlled via a smartphone app. Mistress revelled in this seemingly previously unknown option to control her sub once I’d notified her that it was to happen, another demonstration perhaps of depth of intent and dedication to serve.
The item was purchased and soon put into use, Mistress determining when she wanted to use her sub, and therefore whether it was to be that plug or another, based on her own ability due to personal commitments or simply if she chose to.
I had no say when she took control, as I sat at my office desk, the device specially designed to be discreet and quiet, those around me unaware as the device worked inside me, patterns pre-set, wave after wave pounding away often at full power, causing me to have to control my every move and facial expression to avoid showing any kind of reaction that would seem out of place in a busy open-plan office environment.
I would spend 12 hours in outfits and devices, from early in the morning from as early as 7am to when I returned home, weekday after weekday, weekends left to vanilla time but keeping in regular touch with my Domme, providing daily photo and video evidence of my activities at home with my dildo and having disrobed in office toilets before covering up again, shots also posted on my Twitter profile @fionacder.
This was a daily routine – logistics of sitting down to wee in the communal gents toilets more regularly than any stand up to do the business, time to adjust outfits where necessary, stockings, suspenders, clasps as necessary, adjust chastity and, when worn, a cock ring too.
New chastity devices were purchased and obtained covertly for Mistress to choose from, new outfits were selected by Mistress for her sub to buy discreetly and wear, creating a once more burgeoning stash of outfits which were secretly stored at home but now, within easy reach, and for added security, under lock and key. No more constant back and forths to storage.
This was life. This was me. This was the inner me, the closeted me. My inner sexuality and kinks were there to be explored, boundaries pushed, new horizons and desires found. Encouraged to fully embrace the temptations I could barely deny, yet doing so in total and utter secrecy, a way found to lock everything up at home, hidden away, out of sight but close to hand.
If I wasn’t on my cam site of preference, I’d be taking and publishing pics of my state of dress, state of chastity and how it was instructed that I should be plugged. I was usually either plugged with the Hush and remotely controlled, or I had the full size, larger plug, virginal, yet to be fucked-for-real ass, gradually being trained.
Frequently denied cum due to personal and home circumstances, my sexual energy remained at a peak, eagerness to serve, dress, lock, plug, demonstrate my submissiveness to my Mistress, an ever present. But my bi-curiousness was being developed through the training to consume my own cum. After years of baulking after the peak of the moment, now, I would happily take pre-cum for Mistress, only, in theory at least, allowed to cum if ruined, the satisfaction of hand-relief not actually likely under any real circumstances.
Spirit to serve my Mistress remained, able to tribute freely, at and of my choosing, but still on what was my own reasonable basis.
Earlier in 2020, an opportunity presented itself to be home alone for 4.5 days, nobody but me. I vowed and detailed the intent to Mistress to serve her entirely, be dressed, locked and plugged of her choosing 24 hours a day including the delights of sleeping in that state, free time left to play, use toys and train to ruin for Mistress, although never getting over the line, undoubtedly putting myself under too much pressure.
I spent a great deal of time at night fucking my 6” suction cup dildo, often filming or taking snaps as I did, to further demonstrate my spirit to serve my Domme to the ‘enth degree for as much time as possible, into the early hours of the morning, and sleeping very little as the peak of sexual euphoria held a vice-like grip over every moment of the day.
It was an unforgettable period, wanton abandonment of many of life’s priorities, life’s pressures, stresses and strains – this was Fiona’s moment to be to the fore, the shackles of the girl within fully but temporarily lifted.
In amongst this were regular sessions being body waxed, and further exploring my bi-curious tendencies and a developing and increasingly keener urge to suck an available cock from time to time, totally submissively and for some time, each time, arguably pimping myself out, admissions and updates given to Mistress to update my training as it went on.
Things were going very well indeed. A closeted crossdresser, turned dedicated sub to her newly found and treasured Domme, one with whom a deep and strong bond of trust had been found – so far indeed that Fiona did something she’d never done before with anyone ever before – shown her male face, albeit to Mistress only. This was it – this was a new step in sexual exploration, exhilaration in expressing an otherwise suppressed inner submissive side. I had, it seemed, and pleasingly so, endeared myself to my Domme and the pride of being hers, owned, and above all, valued so very deeply was something that I revelled in.
But when mid-March 2020 arrived, fate dealt the most cruellest of hands…