Last Updated on 10 June, 2026 by Cara Sutra
my name is penny. To my Owner and Goddess i am slave penny. i am in my late 60s, have been a submissive male since puberty and a slave for the last 6 years. i have been a widower for nearly 15 years. my wife died after a long battle with breast cancer just before she reached the age of 50.
The loyalty and devotion that is required to enslave takes time to instil. There is a conquest. Some early meetings were on almost equal terms but always with the respect a submissive male should show a Dominant woman. A slow progression through training, influence and increased control. Submission and slavery are both based on worship, devotion and loyalty. The world a slave is taken into is about the Owner. It reflects Her ideals and opinions.
Goddess Cara, my Owner, has a view about submissive men that was very difficult for me to embrace. She enjoys submissive males, gets pleasure from their suffering for Her, but sees them as inadequate and inferior to other men, especially “real men”. This was something i resisted strongly, to the point around 10 years ago when i raised my voice to Her in a public place. This led to a period where we lost touch. However, four years into that “lost” period She seduced me back into Her realm, i readily embraced Her view of submissive males, my inadequacy and inferiority, and my progress towards complete slavery was fairly rapid.
i moved into a very humble and slave appropriate home in Her village just before the first COVID lockdown. That house is within a 10 minute walk of Her large family home.
Every second of my existence is controlled. Even my meal breaks and sleep are monitored and must meet certain criteria. my small home has CCTV cameras in every room, monitoring my every move. Goddess Cara will rarely look at those CCTV cameras on Her mobile, but the fact they exist ensures complete compliance. That is not to say that my loyalty would, in itself, ensure complete obedience, but She enjoys certainty.
The same certainty would account for the chastity device that i now wear permanently, apart from short periods for cleaning.
my inadequacy by being submissive is supported by the deformity of my testicles, one of which virtually permanently hides within my torso. This problem made the wearing of a conventional chastity cage impossible. Despite a further mental deformity which made it impossible for me to orgasm or ejaculate, my Goddess still wanted the certainty of a cage, and just before moving to Her village, at Her command i had a Prince Albert piercing and i have been wearing one of the specially designed PA chastity cages ever since.
i am currently performing a command of my Goddess. Between 6.30am and 8.00am this morning, 2 June 2026, i am to write this introduction of myself in readiness for the writing of a daily diary that will be written within that time frame the following morning.
Tomorrow morning, therefore, i shall be writing my diary about today.
There are still many aspects of my life as a slave that have not been included in this introduction but will invariably be included as i complete the diary day by day.
Tuesday, 2nd June 2026
A day like many others
Each day involves routines, rituals and conformities, and if i were to go into detail on every one of those on this first day, it would make for an extremely large daily entry.
i shall therefore expand on one or two of these each day, so that over the first few days a full picture can be formulated.
It should also be noted that i am not just a slave, but one that once raised my voice and caused great upset to the Goddess i now worship, adore and loyally serve. The severity of my existence reflects the punishment which i must serve.
An alarm on the antiquated mobile phone wakes me at 4:35am precisely.
i am enslaved, not through physical force, but through worship, glorification, devotion and loyalty, imposed and maintained by intense sexual arousal.
The start and end of every day involves daily rituals that reflect that worship.
i have slept in nothing but a pink latex thong. i now possess two identical pairs of these thongs that i alternate weekly. They are the only item of clothing i generally wear in the place assigned my home.
The morning ritual involves the cleaning of myself and the thong which, after a session of worship (more details tomorrow), are replaced. The only things i generally wear at home in the day are that thong and mild nipple clamps that are clipped on my nipples during the morning ritual.
The living quarters in which i sleep and do most admin tasks is a small workshop with a flat above, that has been converted to living quarters and a working office. It is very discreet and away from any road or footpath.
There is a dressing gown on a hanger in case someone does knock on the door. That, however, has only happened when deliveries are made to this address at the behest of the Goddess.
CCTV cameras in every room ensure that every rule imposed by the Supreme Goddess is obeyed. The way i sleep, the way i walk, the way i sit, all regulated and all obeyed.
At 5am, i sit at my desk in front of two monitors and a computer keyboard, where all the admin work i am required to do is performed.
The nature of this admin work is mixed and i shall go into greater detail another day.
A voicemail left the previous evening by the Goddess dictates a running order for the admin tasks to be completed in the early part of that morning and during the afternoon.
From 5am to 6:30am i completed my first task. Between 6:30am and 8am i completed the introduction to this diary.
Between 8am and 8:15am i make and consume my breakfast, and for the next hour i perform another task on the list.
At 9.15am, when the family home of Goddess Cara is vacant apart from the Goddess and Her real Man, i took a 10 minute walk between my living quarters and the family home.
Before doing so, i covered my naked body and latex thong with a full body and leg pink latex gimp suit.
A full length plastic coat was put on for that 10 minute walk. It looked rather stupid considering the heat of the day but i currently have no other means of hiding the gimp suit on that short walk. In a pocket of that coat was the head mask that would be attached to the gimp suit on my arrival. There were other items taken with me in the coat pockets which i shall refer to in a later diary note.
Over the next three hours, i performed routine domestic chores including vacuuming and polishing the lounge and dining area, tidying and cleaning the kitchen area, and a deep clean of one of the two bathrooms.
Throughout that period, Goddess Cara and Her real man were primarily working in their own separate offices, and apart from taking coffee to both at 11am, i did not come into contact with either of them on any other occasion.
The coffee for Her real man was left on a desk outside his office. He is by far my superior, to whom i must defer, but chooses not to involve himself in the D/s dynamic. As you might imagine, taking coffee to the Goddess i serve is not just a case of putting coffee on Her desk, and i shall go into greater detail in a later diary note.
On this occasion, i was not required to make lunch, and returned to my living quarters at 1pm.
After returning to my living quarters i made my own lunch and then continued working through an afternoon and evening timetable of admin chores (with a 15 minute dinner break at 6.30pm) until my bed time at 10.45pm.
As mentioned at the outset, there is a lot more detail to be added on so many aspects of my normal day, and i will expand these over the following days.
Wednesday, 3rd June 2026
i am rarely asleep when the 4:35 alarm sounds. Throughout my life, i have seemed to thrive on very little sleep.
If i am not already lying on top of the one blanket that i am allowed, i place myself there, on my back and facing the ceiling. my legs are spreadeagled so that the latex of my thong tightly grips my genitalia, or slug, as She demands it is called. my hands are placed face down next to my thong and they act as leverage, enabling me to arch my body, raising my already extremely aroused slug towards the ceiling. There is a mantra of worship, devotion, loyalty and obedience which i loudly recant as my body is arched upward four times during each of the mantras. The mantra is not just words that i have learned, but are recanted with feeling and truth. my slavery is truly based on very real admiration and worship.
After about 80 gyrations of worship and 20 recants of the mantra i rise and make my way to the adjoining shower room. Here i peel off the latex thong, carefully retaining the pouch area, keeping it upright and preventing any other part of the thong from disturbing the sticky, gooey content of the latex pouch.
Being permanently caged means i am constantly aroused and sexually tormented. As such, i remain fully focused and honed to obey. i am constantly brimming with hot simmering pre-cum, spunk fluid or “drool” as Goddess demands i refer to it. Drool accumulates throughout each day and each night, and my morning and bedtime rituals involve it being cleaned. i dare say that a few of you will be surprised to know that the cleaning implement is in fact my tongue.
Kneeling on the cold, hard, tiled floor of the shower room, i repeatedly lap at the latex inner surface of the pouch like a hungry animal, murmuring glorifications to Goddess as i do so. The nature of drool means it sticks to my tongue, my inner mouth and the upper part of my throat as i digest it. Its taste is undeniably unpleasant.
Once all the drool is removed, i have a full body wash in front of the sink (i shower weekly), the same thong is then peeled back on (i change between the two pairs of thongs, also weekly).
It is then that i place mild nipple clamps to each nipple, before teasing those nipples with my fingers while recanting the mantra four more times.
Chastity has, somehow, seemed to increase the sensitivity of my nipples, and nipple teasing and torment has played a not insignificant part in my development as a slave. The mild nipple clamps have the effect of reducing the pleasurable element of my nipple torment while still having the desired effect of encouraging the submissive torment and arousal that constantly throbs from my caged slug.
The denial of pleasure is a feature of my slavery.
i was sitting at the desk in my office at 5am and starting the first task on the schedule that was awaiting me. There were no domestic chores at the family home that day and it was a long day and evening at the office.
This is not unusual, although there are generally some domestic tasks to complete at the family home each day.
The nature of the admin tasks does vary and i shall go into more detail about this in a later diary note.
The breakfast break at 8am was the first time i could drink tap water, the only drink i am allowed, and thereby fully clear the drool from my mouth.
Breakfast, as always, porridge made with water, a few walnuts and a fresh unripe banana. Ripeness gives a banana flavour, and the blandness of an unripe banana gives me the same nutrition without flavour. Flavour is, after all, pleasure, which, where possible, i should be denied.
This Wednesday proved to be a very demanding day. Apart from the schedule i had no contact with Goddess, and the time given for each task was very tight.
Despite being demanding, such days do go by very quickly.
The respite of sleep at 10.45pm was particularly welcome and needed.
Thursday, 4th June 2026
The early morning was uneventful and like all others. Rituals completed, i was at my desk at 5am.
Today’s schedule indicated that i was expected at the family home at 1.30pm, which meant leaving here immediately after my 20 minute lunch break (1pm to 1.20pm). The morning involved 5 admin tasks, including the diary note for Wednesday.
There is no sense of tedium at any time, although i am sure there would have been in my former life. The mindset of a slave is very different, and robotic working is fully maintained. The mind never wanders; it remains fully focused on the task at hand.
There is no respite between each task, which would have been almost inevitable previously. Toilet breaks are allowed, and only taken when genuinely necessary. There is never the slightest intention or thought of taking an unnecessary break, and CCTV in “every” room is a secondary means of ensuring that.
After lunch, which consisted of a thin slice of ham, a portion of brie cheese, a medium sized tomato and a little lettuce (identical every day), i peeled on the pink gimp suit, put on the plastic overcoat, slipped my feet into the only footwear i am allowed, a pair of now ageing sandals, and set off to the family home.
The pockets of the plastic coat contain the mild nipple clamps, which had to be removed to allow the gimp suit to be peeled on, another pair of nipple clamps but very, very much more severe, a clear plastic mask to put over my mouth and nose, two pairs of disposable plastic gloves and two pairs of disposable plastic booties to put on my feet. A stock of these disposable clear plastic items are kept in the hallway of my living quarters and two pairs of each are taken with me whenever i am required to visit the family home.
In the world of the Goddess whose property and slave i now and evermore will be, submissive males, and slaves especially, are inferior, inadequate and disgusting. Hence the full covering of my mouth, hands and feet.
A list of the tasks required of me at the family home is left for me in a cloakroom just off the entrance hallway. Today it just says “ironing to 3pm”.
Goddess has wisely given me 90 minutes to do what any reasonably competent person would do in half that time. i am slow at ironing but the end product is acceptable.
After putting on one of the pairs of gloves and plastic footings, i unzip two small zips covering each of my nipples and put on the mild clamps. A small antiquated messaging device is always in the cloakroom and i carry that with me at all times when in the family home in case i am summoned. i then proceed to the room where i know the laundry, ironing board and iron are, and immediately set about my task. There is a sink and a plastic mug in the room and i fill the mug with water before starting the ironing.
Tap water is the only drink i am ever allowed, and there is always water for me to sip at during all tasks, whether in the family home or in my living quarters.
There was not a huge pile of ironing and i was well over half way through when, at around 2.15, i was summoned to make coffee for Goddess and Her real man.
my chastity cage includes a hollow urethral sound which has built in electrodes. When at the family home, these electrodes, via the wi-fi system, can allow the Goddess to pass a current through the sound from an App on Her mobile phone. Three slow pulses of electricity are passed through the sound to notify me of any command. No more than three, or it would start to become “pleasurable”, and pleasure is not for slaves.
i instinctively check the message machine, which says “C RM and Me”. i am required to make coffee for the real man and the Goddess. i immediately break off the ironing and make my way to the kitchen to make coffee. The coffee for the real man is left on a table outside his office, and i knock his door to let him know it is there, and i then go to and knock the door to the office of the Goddess and wait for Her to summon me in.
She has a very clear sounding “clicker” which i heard and by which She summoned me to enter. i did so, head bowed.
Both the office of the real man and Goddess are far more than conventional home offices. They both occupy what would be intended to be large bedrooms, and in addition to a desk and executive chairs, contain a lounge chair, coffee table, and a TV on a wall.
The office of the Goddess also contains what can only be described as a throne, in front of which is an elegant ottoman sized footstool. The gold material and framework of the latter being identical to that of the throne chair itself.
Although my head was bowed, i could sense She was still at Her desk. my mind detected a simmer of disappointment.
Being at Her desk suggested it would be another brief meeting, as it has been for the last many occasions.
Being disappointed that this was likely to be the case was drowned in the even greater disappointment that such a selfish emotion should still exist inside my cerebrum. This would be reported to Goddess in my late evening report.
i placed Her coffee on a mat on the corner of Her desk and knelt on the floor in the “present” position. This means kneeling and sitting back on my feet, spreading my knees wide and resting my palms upwards on my thighs. my head remaining bowed.
Goddess Cara pressed Her clicker, which commands i look up at Her. She held the open palm of Her hand in front of me, which required me to enter the “expose” position. This requires me to stay in the “present” position but clasp my hands round the back of my head, and again lower my head slightly.
The beauty of Her perfectly manicured hand gripped me and its vision remained in my head even though that was soon again lowered.
There was a short pause before i felt the cold fingers of Her now leather gloved hand under my chin, raising it to look straight at Her.
She smiled and Her beauty consumed me.
The smile gradually turned to a grimace of disdain. “you are a disgusting slut,” She sneered at me.
i am undoubtedly a slut. i am constantly aroused every waking hour, and probably more. my sexuality both consumes and defines me. i am certainly a slut.
There was another press on Her clicker and Her hand was a tight fist, indicating i must adopt the submission position. This meant leaning as far forward as i can from that kneeling position until my head touches the floor and stretching my hands forward on the floor with my palms upward. It was an uncomfortable position, and the 5 minutes i was held in it seemed like much longer.
Eventually there was a further click and i looked up to see Her hand was flat, palm towards me and fingers pointing to the door. i was to leave, which i did, with my head lowered until outside Her door.
i then returned to the laundry and finished the ironing with a few minutes to spare before 3pm, despite the disruption, and made my way back to the living quarters.
A schedule for the remainder of the afternoon and evening was on my computer when i returned, which took me past my dinner break to the time i retired to my bed.
The last thing i did before my bedtime ritual, in which my daytime drool is removed as with the morning ritual, was to write an evening report to the Goddess. In that report i made Her aware of the very selfish sense of disappointment that simmered when i knew She was at Her desk and the meeting would therefore be brief. my body and mind are Hers and all selfish emotions should be entirely erased.
Glory to Goddess Cara. Glory to Her Supreme Wisdom.
Friday, 5th June 2026
Another morning like any other. Hardly a normal morning by anyone else’s standards, but exactly like any other for me over the last few years.
The schedule on my computer, like Wednesday, involved no tasks at the family home, so a day of service at my desk.
The amount and length of visits to the family home has diminished significantly over the last few weeks, and my visits there are becoming fewer and fewer as each week progresses.
Being in the presence of the Goddess to whom i belong is a privilege and something every slave relishes, but as an old slave i accept that the sight of me is more likely to be repulsive than pleasing, and my domestic skills are very much wanting.
Comments made by Goddess Cara during visits over the last few weeks suggest that She is adding to Her stable with slaves far more useful and pleasing to Her than i can ever be. my pathetic domestic abilities were the focus of Her anger during a very painful nipple torture with metal spiked clamps around two weeks ago, and there was a suggestion that more useful slaves would soon replace me.
There is no real sense of disappointment or unhappiness at this happening, and if there were they would be reported to Goddess Cara. i am Her property, chattel and a cog in a wheel that exists purely for Her pleasure and benefit. Both my body and mind are Hers. Emotions suggesting self interest should always be reported to Her so that they can be “dealt” with.
The admin tasks that i am required to fulfil fall into three categories.
- Routine admin work relating to the three or four businesses the Goddess owns.
- Writings connected to my slavery, such as this diary.
- Mundane accounting chores for a FemDom friend of Goddess Cara, who has an accountancy practice somewhere in the UK. In my former life i was a qualified accountant, and i believe the accountant Domme and Goddess Cara have a financial arrangement for the use of my time.
These three elements of admin work are more than sufficient to occupy many long days and evenings at my desk.
Starting work at 5am and finishing around 10pm, after allowing for short breakfast, lunch and dinner breaks, means a working day of well over 15 hours. i am, however, a slave, and the hours i work can bear no resemblance to that of the normal working man.
my life in general cannot be compared to anyone else apart from a slave. No freedom of any kind. All my waking days are micro controlled and i have no financial freedom. All my basic needs are provided, but they are very basic. The same bland meals every day and drinking nothing but water. The living quarters i occupy were purchased from the proceeds of my previous home and the property was transferred to a trust over which Goddess has full control. All the surplus funds from my former home were also put into that same trust.
We have no contract of slavery. The complete exchange of all power does not require any contract. Goddess has omnipotent power and a contract could only limit such power. That isn’t what “omnipotent power” means.
The day went by very quickly because most of the scheduled times given for doing tasks left very little time for reflection or thought. Struggling for time results in time appearing to go quickly.
A tiring day but a rewarding one. i hoped i had pleased Goddess, and more importantly hoped i had benefited Her.
Glory to Her Wisdom. Glory to Goddess Cara.
Saturday, 6th June 2026
Saturday. The start of a weekend for the vast majority, but in my current circumstances weekends are days of monotony. There were times in the distant past when i may have been called upon for chauffeur duties but those days are long past. Perhaps the skills of another member of Her stable make him or her a better choice for that role.
Writing this diary note has led me to reflect on the first period of Her conquest of me, the year before i raised my voice at Her in Brighton, in the hotel reception area, just after watching the Pride Carnival that year. She shared a lot of thoughts, likes, dislikes, as well as Her tough history, devoid of any real love. A history which made Her the very strong, confident, assertive, wise and intelligent person She has become. A history which made Her an extremely loving, caring and protective mother, wife and senior guardian over Her extended family. Her matriarchy now, i assume, also benefitting from the servitude and obedience of a loyal stable of slaves.
The knowledge gained during that period makes me wonder whether that stable includes female devotees, who i am certain would always be Her preference for any slave She had direct contact with.
Certainly my historical skill set makes me a slave who can benefit Her and Her matriarchy at my desk, and the arrangement with Her Dominant female accountant friend has presented an opportunity to properly achieve that.
Weekend days are now, and have been for some considerable time, spent at my desk between my early morning and bedtime rituals, working and earning solidly from early morning to late at night with just three limited meal breaks and the luxury of tap water constantly by my side.
Naked apart from the Prince Albert chastity cage, the pink latex thong and the mild nipple clamps. A dressing gown in the very unlikely event someone knocks on the front door. Working in an office devoid of natural light with the blinds constantly closed. The presence of CCTV cameras that ensure i sit and work as commanded and do so intensely without the remotest distraction.
The cruelty and severity of the situation ironically adding to the always constant submissive arousal in my genitalia, through which my obedience, devotion and loyalty are invigorated and sustained.
The work schedule yesterday was full, with admin tasks for the whole day and evening, including completing this diary note and 4 hours for just one job in the afternoon.
That 4 hour job required me to add the details for over 1800 invoices and receipts that had been scanned and were in a zip file, for a garage business covering a 4 year period. Why 4 years? A question i instinctively ask myself, but my job is to “do” and not “think”.
The image of two beautiful leather clad Goddesses laughing, caressing, perhaps even kissing, and raising a glass in celebration as two lowly, pathetic male slaves labour for them. One, the slave of the female accountant, laboriously scans reams of paperwork, and the other, me, enters the details of those papers into the appropriate accounting software. Both basic, mindless tasks befitting lowly male slaves.
A sunny Saturday 6th June was a typical day of weekend drudgery for this slave. A weekend day of drudgery that made me constantly sexually aroused, devoted and loyal to the deliciously cruel Goddess to whom i belong.
Glory to Goddess Cara.
This post is the first of weekly batched diary entries by slave penny. Despite being described and presented as diary entries, the activities and happenings described therein are fiction. They do not represent our real life Mistress/slave dynamic or interactions. They are the product of my real life FemDom slave’s chastity-enhanced imagination, and are published here purely as erotic fantasy for your entertainment as well as my own. Any opinions presented in this piece are penny’s own.
I do not suggest or encourage anyone to actually live in the ways described in this erotic fiction piece.
You can read more about this FemDom fantasy erotica area in my introduction post: Daydreams or Nightmares? My Slave Confesses His Most Extreme Sub Fantasies.
This page contains affiliate links.
