Seriously? (*updated regularly*)

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Misadventures in Chastity

(written by my beautiful and beloved sissy maid, Angela)

Since meeting my wonderful Mistress, I have been, by choice, locked in a chastity device. When I met her, I owned a CB-3000 chastity cage that I asked her to hold the keys for. She happily agreed, and thus began my chastity service to her.

Having worn the device myself on and off for a few years, there was very little difference now, except that I no longer had the ability to unlock myself when I desired. I would now have to deal with it on a 24/7 basis, as well as any problems that come along with it. Everything was going fine, and other than not being able to release myself, I didn’t have any problem with it.

(A little background here…I am a cross dresser, and Lady Julianna's sissy maid. I also have a snowplow business, and most times would wear panties, pantyhose and short skirt under my snow pants when out plowing. Anyways…)

It was the middle of January here in beautiful, snowy upstate NY, and I was out plowing early one snowy morning. I was wearing some very cute panties, tan pantyhose and a denim mini skirt under my snow pants, and of course, the CB-3000 securely locked in place. It was around 6 a.m., and I was shoveling the sidewalk at a church I plow for, when all of a sudden I felt a pinch on the bottom of my balls. I kind of didn’t think anything about it until I felt it again, only this time it was much, much worse. Obviously, something was wrong with my CB, but I couldn’t tell what. I turned to head back to the relative safety of my truck to check it out, and the pinching pain was unbelievable! Every step I tried to take only made it worse.

So here I am, standing on the sidewalk of a church, in the early morning darkness, it’s like 2 degrees out, snowing like crazy, and I’m afraid to even move because of the terrible pinching I am feeling on the bottom of my scrotum. I remember painfully chuckling to myself, and thinking “Oh, this is fucking great. Now what do I do?”

Being so early in the morning, no one was around so I unzipped my snow pants, reached under my skirt, hose, and panties to see if I could figure out what was wrong. As soon as I touched the ring of the CB that goes around my cock and balls, I felt a very severe pinch that almost put me on my knees. I put my fingers down to the area being pinched, and could feel that the hinge part had broken, and there was a chunk of very tender skin caught in between the broken pieces.

At this point, I am more concerned with my well being than anything else, but every time I tried to move it just pinched worse and worse. Now even though there was no one around, I still couldn’t just strip down on the sidewalk of a church wearing pantyhose and a skirt to inspect my chastity device. I would go to hell for sure for that! So, I reached into my panties with both hands, and pulled the broken ring apart slightly, which hurt like hell, but also instantly felt better. Now at least I could move without pain.

Holding the ring apart with both hands, I waddled…yes, waddled the 100 feet or so back to my truck, managed to get the door open, and climb in to the cab. After making sure the sensitive skin of my ball sac was no longer between the broken pieces, I pulled my snow pants down, pulled my skirt up, pantyhose and panties down, and finally able to see what the deal was.

The hinge part of the ring was indeed broken, and my only choice was to pull it apart enough to slip my balls out and remove the device. Fortunately, I only suffered a small cut on the bottom of my scrotum, but in that area, it felt like a 6 inch gash. I threw the CB on the floor of the truck in disgust, pulled my panties and hose up, my skirt down, and zipped up my snow pants, and went back to shoveling the sidewalk. Walking back to where I had dropped my shovel, I saw my foot prints from my waddle back to the truck…toes pointed out and shuffling in the snow, and burst out laughing to myself thinking of what that must have looked like, and being very thankful that it didn’t happen at 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

When I told Lady Julianna what happened, of course the first thing she wanted to know was if I was alright. After assuring her that I was, and telling her how I solved my little problem, we both had a pretty good laugh over it. She said she would have given anything to see me hunched over with both hands down the front of my pants, waddling back to my truck. Looking back on it now, I have to admit, it had to be a pretty fucking funny site.

A few weeks later, she got me a new CB-6000, which is a totally different and better design, and much more secure and comfortable to wear. We expect no similar problems with this device, and I am safely back in chastity for her.
contributed by cdangela315

I Am Not Your Mistress!

I get over 100 emails a week. I am on several popular bdsm social networking sites, and the little subbie boys just can't wait to get some domination. I have my yahoo chat active on my blog, and links are posted on social sites. I get a lot of IM's. I find it amusing when someone I have never spoken to addresses me as "Mistress". Um... I am not your Mistress. That's like calling some random person your wife.
"Hello, Mistress. I am looking for a beautiful, strong, confident, powerful woman such as yourself to use and abuse me to your liking. I wish only to please you, Mistress, and I will do anything to make you happy."
"Dear Mistress, I read your blog and I was wondering if you were looking for another miserable slave like myself to join your stable" 
Me: "Unless I have collared you, I prefer you not call me Mistress. Julianna is fine."
Idiot: "Yes, Mistress Julianna. anything to please you"
Me: "I am not your Mistress."
Idiot: "Yes, um, what would you like from a miserable slave such as myself? Anything that pleases you, Ma'am"
Me: "I am into bondage, impact and sensual play, human equine, humiliation, munches, parties and other local events"
Idiot: "I don't like pain and stuff."
Me: "What parts of bdsm interest you?"
Idiot: "I will do anything to please you. I love to eat a woman out for hours and hours until she is satisfied. Your pics make me so horny."
Me: "My D/s relations are for the most part, non-sexual."
Idiot: "Yes, Mistress, I understand it's not all about sex"
Me:  "What are your limits?"
Idiot: "I have no limits"
Me: "Really? Then I can cut slits in your body with a knife and rub shit in them?"
Idiot: "No!!"
Me: "Well? What are your limits?"
Idiot: "Not being allowed to please you. I only want to please you. Can I see some more pics of you?"
Me: "I think you might consider a casual encounters ad or even an escort. I think you are getting "Domme" confused with "fucktoy". It seems like that would be more what you are looking for. I am a real Domme. Not a showgirl."
Idiot:  "I am a bad boy, Mistress, and I need to be punished."
Me: "You don't like pain, and don't call me Mistress. Julianna, or even Ma'am is just fine."
Idiot: "Punish me by making me service you orally, Mistress. Make me your pussy-eating slave"
Me: "Dude. I. Am. Not. Your. Mistress. I will not have sex with you. I will no longer talk with you. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you deleted and blocked. You may now kiss my ass."

I Feel Pretty (or "Operation: Remove Lost Buttplug")

This actually happened a couple months ago, and I have posted it in other locations, but for the sake of sharing it (it's pretty damn amusing), I figured I may as well go ahead and share it here also. Enjoy!

So there I was, minding my own business, just finished sucking off the hubby when my slave Bacon text messages to me from the front room these weird cryptic messages like " We need to put a chain on this thing " and such. Hmmm. Well I ignore him because, well, he isn't making any sense... again... and finally he comes out and says it.
He has lost his butt plug.
In his ass.
Yeah.
giggle
I have heard of such things happening but have never had the experience. So I ask my fellow pervs for advice. Needless to say there are many jokes made (poor Bacon) and some advice being tossed around. Well I was a labor coach in the past and my first instinct to tell him to squat and push. No luck.
I am still in the bedroom, asking my husband "Should I go help him?" and poor hubby... shakes head poor, poor hubby.... has to be up in four hours to go to work.
Great.
I am now disturbing my husband with my kinky slave adventures.
I tell the slave to just reach up in there and dig it out. I offered ideas... i have an enema. I have a speculum. I have rubber gloves... oh wait, no I don't... I am NOT digging that toy out of your ass without a glove. sigh Squat and push some more.
Sooooo after a few minutes I hear him flitting around in the bathroom, so I go to check on him, and there he is, squatting in the bathtub with a jar of Vaseline, finger in his ass, singing "I Feel Pretty."
Ha!
HAHAHA!
Awesome.
Well I am a little worried now, it's about an hour into it, and no luck yet. He, OF COURSE, just cannot relax, which I decided was the cause of the problem... so I leave the bathroom and come back with a valium and a shot of tequila. Of course I don't want him touching my good shot glass with his vaseline-y ass hands, so i drop the pill in his mouth and pour in the tequila. Down the hatch it goes. I sit there for a bit, googling what to do if you lose a toy in your ass. All the while, I am really thinking about what he is gonna say to the ER doctor when we get there. "Hey I was walking around the sex toy store when I tripped and fell on this buttplug." Hmmm....
Ok, to hell with it, let's try the enema. I will try anything at this point. So now here is my slave, buzzed on tequila, with his face on the bathtub floor, ass in the air, humming "I Feel Pretty" while I pump half a quart of water up his ass. Wait, what's this? It's not going in? OF COURSE the enema tip got clogged, there is also half a jar of vaseline up his ass. Grrr. Fine. Clean the tip. Refill. Try again. In goes the water. Now he sits up, pale and sweaty, he looks like he is gonna puke. Damn tequila. Now everyone knows that you have to keep your ass in the air when using an enema. "Ass up" I say, and off I go to check on my husband, who is now laying in bed, face red, tears in his eyes from laughter. "It's not funny," I say. "Ohhh yes it is," he says "but can you get the damn thing out so I can go to sleep?"
I holler to slave from the bedroom, asking is he is ready to try. He is. I lay on the bed and watch across the hall, my poor naked slave on the toilet, all pale and sweating, pushing and grunting, when I finally hear the "pissing" sound of the enema water.
"Is it working?"
"...No, Ma'am"
"Just water, no plug?"
"... Yes, Ma'am."
FUCK. And then, wait... wait.. he looks... inquisitive.... then pensive... then very very serious... and finally I hear "plooop."
SUCCESS!!!!
I tell him to fish it out of the toilet. Now mind you, after seeing all of what I just described with my own eyes, administering the enema myself, etc, the slave CLOSES THE DOOR to fish the toy out of the toilet. Um... ok? A little privacy to reach in the loo but none needed to reach in his ass? Hmmmm.
Anyway he came into the bedroom and sat on the floor a bit while the three of us enjoyed the laughter and even moreso, the RELIEF! Scary, scary stuff. I feel bad, but I assume no responsibility. This is specifically why he is not allowed to masturbate unsupervised.
Anyway, that's my story. Hopefully it will bring a few chuckles and a little wisdom too. Be oh-so-careful with anal play, my friends.... or you might end up face down in the bathtub with a jar of vaseline singing Sondheim and Bernstein's "West Side Story." I feel prettyyyyy, oh so prettyyyyyy, I feel pretty and witty and gayyyyyyy......