Last Updated on 18 June, 2026 by Cara Sutra
If you thought part one was extreme, strap in. Week two of slave penny’s fantasy diary is considerably darker than the first. There is a trial, for an offence committed years ago, with a predictable verdict. There’s a sentence to be served; not in a prison, but in a cellar. This week introduces surgery, the exact nature of which is left up to your imagination at this stage. Plus, expect extreme bondage, forced gagging, body modifications, and total stasis. penny finds himself renamed, and realises there are others above and below him in a multi-layered matriarchy. If you’re new to penny’s diary, I strongly suggest you begin with my introduction to this series, then start with part one of penny’s diary before returning to this one.
Content warning and note: It is imperative that you understand that ‘diary entries’ published in the FemDom Slave’s Fantasy Diary area of my blog are fiction. They are written and should be enjoyed as erotica, extreme FemDom fantasy created by a male slave’s long-term-chastity-enhanced imagination.
Monday, 8th June 2026
Throughout this morning’s early rituals, my mind reflected on the events of the day before. This is how it always seems to be regarding physical sessions of punishment and the taking of sadistic pleasure by Goddess.
At the time, the body and mind are consumed with the present. Surviving the punishment, handling and bearing the pains. The key senses of vision and sound intent only on survival but at the same time subconsciously taking videos or recordings for later masochistic gratification.
Is it just me? my reactions to the pains are just as anyone might suspect. i long for them to be over. i endure the pain. It hurts and there is no direct pleasure in the moment from being hurt. Owing to that i used to say i am not a masochist, but is a masochist someone who gets retrospective pleasure from such events? If the answer to that is yes, then i guess i am, after all.
This morning i reflected on the beauty of the two stunning Women that visited yesterday.
Goddess Cara as beautiful as ever. The beauty of an all powerful Queen or Empress. Lady Stana had a girl next door type of beauty, a beauty which was an antithesis to Her obvious relish of sadistic torture.
As a pair, They represented superior feminine power. That first vision of Their backs and the wet shiny black capes being removed by Their male attendant made me feel in the presence of sovereign authority.
Their dress also reflected power, with leather playing its part. The perfect tailoring of every garment suggested wealth, which is power in itself. There is no true power without wealth.
Both wore boots. Leather trousers with a black silk shirt, with small white skull and crossbones pattern detail, for Goddess Cara, with low heeled industrial goth style boots, Her favoured style. A leather midi skirt with soft black leather button-up shirt for Lady Stana, with knee-high patent leather boots, black of course, with spike heel of around 3 inches.
Goddess is bisexual and it was clear that Lady Stana was either the same or perhaps lesbian.
As They laughed, They kissed and embraced passionately. The sadistic sexual pleasure They attained from my pain and suffering was being enhanced by each other’s hands and lips.
One thing became very clear, however. Lady Stana deferred to Goddess Cara. There was a certain and obviously agreed and accepted hierarchy. Lady Stana is in awe of Goddess Cara.
Most of the time i was squirming on the floor in agony as the two powerful women enjoyed my suffering. The other male was naked and acted as a mat under Goddess Cara’s heavy goth boots.
As the play drew to a conclusion, Lady Stana kissed the hand of Goddess Cara on numerous occasions. There was certainly no reciprocation, and Goddess Cara looked down at Her as though She was enjoying the attention of a subject.
Goddess Cara’s matriarchy has certainly extended significantly.
Throughout the day, memories of yesterday continued to flash through my cerebrum as they will probably do for some time. The tasks for the day were unsurprisingly all tasks to be completed at my desk, and apart from preparing this diary note, all work related to Lady Stana’s practice.
During my work i was made aware that i could find myself squirming in agony again at any moment. This time without any images of feminine beauty or even the squeals of Dominant female laughter to retrospectively enhance my already unabating submissive sexual arousal and torment.
i broke out into a hot panicky sweat every time this realisation dawned anew in my mind, with all its cruel potential.
There was no such event throughout the day and evening, which proved an uneventful day of hard slavish admin sloggery.
Glory to Goddess Cara, respect to Lady Stana.
Tuesday, 9th June 2026
Two days on from the visit of the monarch Goddess Cara and Her noblewoman Lady Stana, and yet, apart from one minor event, a very ordinary day. Perhaps indicative of what the future may be.
Each morning the schedule is waiting for me on the monitor as soon as it is switched on.
A list of admin tasks, still including this daily diary requirement, but full from early morning until bedtime (which i noticed had been put back 30 minutes to 11.30pm) with tasks related to the business of Lady Stana.
It was mid afternoon that i became aware of a pulse confined to the stud which passed through my urethral opening to the glans itself. This lasted for a few split seconds before moving to the tubular cage itself. For no more than 10, maybe 20 seconds it switched back and forward between the ring and the cage. The pulse was a little more powerful than the one that is used to gain my attention and check for messages on the message fob when in the family home. The repetitive rotation between my glans and shaft had an effect similar to wanking and certainly focused my attention on my slug.
It occurred to me that the intense level of work can provide a distraction from the constant sexual torment that induces it. This wanking effect of the electric pulse very much brought my attention squarely back to that torment.
Was Goddess Cara or Lady Stana just testing it out? Did They know the effect this mode would have? Was it a precursor to something a lot more painful?
As a slave my job is to do and not to know, and my day continued as normal, but, in the back of my mind, always aware of what new power this majestic feminine powerbase held over me. The certainty of omnipotent power and unquestioning obedience.
Glory to Goddess Cara and Lady Stana.
Wednesday, 10th June 2026
There were only two things on the schedule this morning that did not relate to the business of Lady Stana. They were the writing of this diary note and 20 minutes allocated to something called “Visit and Fitting”, with a note underneath which merely said “instructions to follow”.
It was timed at 1:10pm immediately after my 20 minute lunch break.
It was just a couple of minutes before that lunch break that my monitors suddenly went blank and the notice appeared.
i was to answer a knock at the door at 1:10pm covered in my dressing gown. There would be two people there for me to allow in.
Once the whole party were in the hall, i was to remove my dressing gown, turn to face the CCTV camera above the door to the lounge, and raise my arms and hands high above my head and stand, hands clasped. i was to remain in that position, hands tightly clasped above me, facing that CCTV camera, after the others had left, until four electro pulses in my metal slug chastity cage notified me to kneel in the adoration position and recite the mantra in worship of Goddess Cara three times before returning to my work schedule.
The instructions were very clear and easy to follow. It is perhaps indicative of a slave that i should have no apprehension or concern about the events that were to follow my lunch. i am chattel, property, a thing, and as such should be devoid of such emotion.
The sound of a vehicle in the private and non-overlooked driveway outside the front of the living and working quarters gave me advance warning of the knock before it came.
As such i was able to answer the door as soon as the knock was made. The male and woman at the door were wearing identical red cloth capes and casual, slip-on shoes.
They removed their capes and stepped out of their footwear at the same time as i removed my gown.
The male was the same as the one whose cock had cum in my throat just three days earlier. Once the cape was removed, he was naked apart from the metal chastity cage that had been temporarily removed on that earlier visit, and a solid metal collar around his neck with a metal ring to the front.
The woman was completely naked apart from an identical collar to that of the male, and a metal belt clasped around her waist from which various metal chains dangled, and a shaped thin metal sheet was padlocked to the belt just below her navel to curve under and around, and affixed centrally to the belt on her back. To me this sight was both beautiful and disturbing. Part of me struggled to accept that such feminine beauty could be enslaved, but i soon accepted that the Goddess and Her fellow Dominant Women were entitled to the pleasure of this beauty.
my hands raised as commanded. it soon became clear that a metal collar was being fitted around my neck and could sense it was likely identical to theirs.
Next, i felt a thin metal strip around my chest being ratcheted and tightened from the rear. As it got tight, it was adjusted at the front so that my nipples fitted into small metal cups which were lined with something rubber-like that gripped my nipples tightly in place.
Finally, and more concerning, my chin was pulled down so as to open my mouth and what felt like a metal ring was wedged in to force and keep my mouth open. To say it felt uncomfortable would be an understatement but it is something i have subsequently learned to live with.
i noticed the female slave put three keys into a clear plastic pouch which she took with her as the two visitors left. These three new attachments to my life were obviously to remain.
As commanded i remained in that standing position with my arms above my head awaiting the pulses in my slug to advise me to return to work.
It was then that pulses invigorated my nipples. Extremely arousing, i found it difficult to stay silent, and the sound of sexual torment burst from my held open mouth.
Eventually they stopped, and the anticipated throbs in my slug directed me to kneel and, as best as i could with the ring in my mouth, recite the mantra before returning to my desk, from which a routine afternoon and evening followed.
Thursday, 11th June 2026
As i wrote the previous day’s diary this morning i was in a state of trepidation and uncertainty.
The ring gag had made it impossible for me to eat and also difficult to sleep. my tongue had established that it was a little more complex than just a ring. The inside of the ring was covered with a flexible silicone film with just a small hole about the width of my thumb in the middle.
my trepidation was compounded by the fact there was just one item on my schedule. That being the writing of my diary note at the very start of my day.
A few minutes after completing the diary note i became aware of vehicles pulling up outside the front of the living quarters.
There was no knock at the door, and a number of personnel, who appeared to be primarily slaves, flooded into the hallway. They brought in various items of equipment, before i had even fully left my office. As soon as i opened the door my arms were grabbed by two males, and i was forcibly held in place, as others continued to enter the hall. At the rear was Lady Stana, whom i was forced to face.
Her red leather catsuit and matching thigh boots would have made Her look threatening and powerful under any circumstances and were very appropriate for what was taking place.
She looked directly at me and began to speak.
“slave penny, yesterday you were tried for disrespect and verbal assault of our Supreme Leader in that on August 3rd 2015 you did insult the Supreme Goddess and raised your voice threateningly to Her. The judge was your victim, Supreme Goddess Cara, who was the only witness. As always the word of our Goddess is gospel and you have been found guilty of this heinous crime.”
She paused and looked at the slaves standing behind me.
“Bag him,” She instructed, and i was lifted off my seat and slid into a heavy-duty black rubber sack. The close fit of rubber around my legs bound them tightly together and within seconds my whole torso was entrenched within this tight bag with my arms tightly gripped next to my body. i was lifted onto a trolley with a long narrow table on top, and strapped down to it with at least five uncompromising straps.
i was completely immobilised, incapable of even the slightest movement.
There was undoubtedly an element of fear but the powerful arousal and torment in my slug remained, and full devotion to the needs and desires of Goddess Cara was still paramount.
Lady Stana looked down at me. Her girl next door looks still made Her seem sweet and innocent. A complete contrast to the way She was dressed, and Her actions. Even the sneer of Her evil smile couldn’t counter Her sweet feminine charm.
She lifted the ring on the metal collar that was fitted to me the previous day and slid the top of the heavy rubber bag in which i was bound under it before placing the ring back on top.
She stood back and continued Her previous public announcement.
“Having been found guilty, you have been sentenced by Supreme Goddess Cara, in Her Divine wisdom, to an existence of living purgatory for the remainder of your days. That will start from today, for eternity. Glory to Goddess Cara.” To that, everyone in the building responded “Glory to Goddess Cara”.
The trolley to which i was strapped down was wheeled into my bedroom and placed at the side of my bed. By now the outside garments of slaves had been removed and the property seemed full of naked men, apart from their shiny metal neck collars and chastity cages, going about their business.
Two such slaves stood over me undoing the straps that secured me to the trolley. my bound body was then pushed up onto my right side, so that i faced my bed. i was held in that position for what seemed an age. A cool wisp of air suggested the bondage bag had either been unzipped or cut open in the area of my anus. i did anticipate the insertion of some kind of devious plug, but that never did occur.
By the time i was replaced on my back, i was aware that something had been done down there, but had no idea exactly what.
As soon as i was put back on my back, a young female slave, presumably the person who had been dealing with whatever had been achieved at my rear, started attending to me. She put her hand over the area of my cage through the tight covering encasing me, and pierced a small hole through it. She then fed clear plastic tubing through the bag, towards my cage. i couldn’t see exactly what she was doing, but it was clear that the tube was being fixed to the urethral sound in my cage.
The other end was duly attached to a large bag, which was hung by the side of the trolley.
Lady Stana’s red-gloved hand reached over the trolley and affectionately stroked the female slave’s face, then moved downwards to gratuitously fondle her naked breast. “Well done, slave Abigail,” She said.
The softly spoken response from the slave was simply, “thank you, Your Ladyship.”
The female slave left quickly and clearly had many more tasks to attend to.
Lady Stana looked down at me once more.
“I shall be leaving soon. slave Abigail here will look after you. A lot will be going on in this property today. None of which is your concern.”
“It will be a very long day for you, but you will be taken out yourself tomorrow. Something for you to look forward to,” She laughed.
She swiftly left, and She was proved to be correct. Every minute of that day and night seemed like an hour, but time did of course still pass.
There were still numerous slaves in the property and work continued through the night.
What awaits me today i do not know.
This diary note has just been dictated at the direct command of Goddess Cara. my arms have remained bound in this bondage bag since yesterday morning.
Friday, 12th June 2026
It was so difficult to sleep last night, as the inability to close my mouth felt entirely unnatural.
i am so tired, and hunger pangs, having not eaten for over 48 hours, are very noticeable.
Water had been spooned or squeezed into my mouth at intervals during the night, but the ring gag keeping my mouth wide open made swallowing very difficult.
i would have begged for some respite, for the gag to be removed for just a few seconds, if only i could. It was around 8.30am before it was actually removed. That was such a relief. i expected food and some hydration. There was a little water given, but nothing more. Still bound and strapped down to the trolley, i was required to dictate my diary note for yesterday.
A dictating machine of sorts was placed in a holder at the side of my bed. Once it was switched on i was left alone for around 30 minutes. The dictation had in fact been finished for 10 minutes before a female slave entered the room, collected the dictation machine and, to my horror, strapped the ring gag back in position. It forced my mouth into a grotesque, unending, silent scream.
It was done so quickly and without warning that i was denied the opportunity to see what my tongue could detect on the inside of the ring part of the gag.
There was no indication that i could ever get used to wearing this ring gag. It makes what would usually be natural, unconscious actions far more noticeable and much more difficult. Swallowing is barely achievable with a wide open mouth, and the perceived inability to swallow creates an irresistible urge to do just that. i found i had to breathe through my nose despite a consistent temptation to breathe through the open mouth. More than one inward breath through the mouth in any short period made me feel like i was about to vomit, the lack of air caused by the silicone film triggering my sensitive gag reflex.
Questions like “how long must i wear this?” and “is this the last day of it?” plagued my mind, although i knew they were questions a slave should never ask.
Time crawled by painfully, not helped by the fact there was no clock around by which to accurately judge its passing.
It was probably late morning when two male slaves came in. They were covered in their outdoor cloaks. They are like monks’ habits, some with and some without a hood. As soon as they moved the trolley i surmised i might be leaving the living quarters. As i was wheeled out i was aware of a lot of work still happening within the property.
We went out into the driveway and then into the back of a transit van via a ramp. One of the slaves appeared to put his foot on something under the trolley and the table i was lying on began to slowly descend. The trolley was lowered considerably until i was only about a foot off the floor of the van. Both slaves left the back of the van. The engine roared into life and the van began to move. It was a little bumpy and very uncomfortable travelling in this way, being strapped to the trolley.
The journey probably took only an hour or so, but during a bumpy journey, and being all alone in the back of that van, it seemed a lot longer.
The same two slaves that put me in the van entered the back compartment once again, and unceremoniously raised the trolley then wheeled me out of the vehicle.
We were in the yard of a small building just off a road at the start of a tree-lined drive that disappeared into the distance. A converted gatehouse to a country mansion was my guess. The trolley was wheeled through a door into the house and into a room which appeared to be a large bathroom with white tiled walls and a tiled floor. However, there was no bath, shower or toilet as far as i could tell.
A sudden sharp pain in the back of my right hand. i couldn’t see or figure out exactly what had happened, but a few seconds later a large plastic bag, clipped to a metal stand on wheels with a tube going towards my right hand, was wheeled from behind my head and into view. Immediately i realised this was a surgery, not a bathroom, just as an anaesthesia mask was placed over my nose and gagged open mouth.
That’s all i can recall of what happened during the next 4 to 5 hours.
i vaguely remember waking, in a semi-conscious state, two or three times. They were definitely not dreams. On each occasion i felt sure i was no longer in the surgery, but i could never determine exactly where i was.
When i eventually fully regained consciousness i was in my office lying on a bed. There was a notice on my computer in big print, unable to be read from where i was, clearly inviting me to get closer so that i could.
i gingerly rolled out of the bed and stood there for a few seconds, using the bed for support.
It was then i noticed i was wearing a new and extremely intricate garment. i was unable to feel the material because the garment incorporated gloves that covered my hands. Upon looking closer at my covered hands, i could make out the intricacy of the garment. The material that covered my fingertips was so fine it was almost possible to see the pattern of my fingerprint through it. There was a significant amount of movement available for my arms despite the fact they were somehow kept close to my body by the restrictive design of the garment. On each side of my body there were numerous folds in the material that flattened out as i raised an arm and folded in as i brought my arm back in again. A concertina effect. The same could be said for the area between my legs. i could walk, but hobbled to only very small steps.
To some extent, with my arms both raised to just below horizontal (the farthest they could go), i looked like a bird.
This garment definitely included a raised hood of some kind. i could feel it over my hair and it gripped my forehead quite tightly.
The dreaded ring gag was still in place, and a few tentative tongue-delves suggested it was exactly the same one that i’d been forced to wear earlier.
i moved over to the chair in front of the computer as soon as i was able.
There was one very basic task for me to do. Just a normal unremarkable bookkeeping chore, followed by a note in capital letters that i must be back on my bed by 11pm.
The note continued by advising me i must do my diary note regarding that day by 9.30am and await visitors.
i noticed some alterations had been made to the room. It now contained a sink and a toilet. The door was noticeably different: no longer a normal door, it was now a door to a cell.
Task completed, i was back on my bed just before 11pm. The bed was quite narrow and even without the gag, sleep would be difficult.
At 11pm exactly, the garment began to shrink around and confine me like some kind of vacuum bag. my arms were forced flush against my torso as they had been in the bondage bag, but on this occasion with much, much more force. i was completely and utterly cocooned, with absolutely no freedom of movement.
i recall wondering how i could ever get to sleep like this… just before a cool fluid sensation travelled up my arm and deep sleep came instantly.
Saturday, 13th June 2026
Waking was unnaturally instant this morning. No typical gradual stirring.
Upon waking i was still vacuum packed in the intricately designed garment, but a second later it released, permitting my arms and legs movement.
Instinctively, and almost robotically, i rose from the bed and sat in the chair at my computer to write yesterday’s diary note as commanded.
The computer had changed considerably.
There was no system unit or console for me to turn on or off. The monitor was already set for me to do my diary note. A keyboard, monitor and mouse, all new.
Even the operating system was completely different to what i’d used previously.
Once i’d finished the diary note i tried to save it before submitting it. But i couldn’t figure out how. No save option seemed to be available.
Instead, a note came up on the screen. “Have you finished?” with choices “Yes” or “No”. i clicked “Yes”, and another option appeared. “Confirm” or “Return”.
i clicked “Confirm” and the screen went black apart from a large white logo in the middle. It was the Venus symbol inside a shield with an elegant crown over the top.
There were no folders or apps. Clearly my work was done for the morning, as previously instructed.
Suddenly, i found myself being bound again. The costume shrank to vacuum pack my torso, my arms, and my legs.
In this way, my whole person was placed into stasis. The only functioning part of me was my mind, which had been devoted to Goddess Cara for some time.
Thoughts raced through my mind as i was bound in place on the office chair, which had been turned away from the screen after my work was completed. Was the Goddess really the leader of a complex organisation? It would be wonderful if that was the case. A few days ago i wasn’t even sure She had any other slaves.
The garment i was wearing was still a mystery. It must’ve cost a phenomenal amount of money. Where had it come from? Who made it? What else, if anything, could it do?
The ring gag was still in place too, and i wasn’t likely to forget it. Despite being uncomfortable, i had, to some extent, got a little more used to it. This was yet another surprise to me. i started to realise how naive i had been previously, thinking my life in endless slavery held no more surprises. Goddess Cara always found ways to surprise with her imaginative cruelty.
Thoughts turned back to the property i was in. The living quarters had been quiet the previous evening and night, but this morning there was noise and obvious activity.
After some time alone with my thoughts, the cell door opened. From the semi-turned position of my office chair, i could see a female slave had entered the room. She was completely naked apart from a shiny metal chastity belt and collar.
Her face showed no emotion. She looked at a small object in her hand, pressed a button on it, and the chair i was sitting on turned to face her fully.
She pressed another button and an invisible zip, around the area of my navel, opened up.
During my time alone in the room i’d realised that there were numerous zips in this special garment, but could see nothing to pull them with. Now i understood.
The female slave attached a plastic tube to something inside the newly exposed area of my body. The tube was attached to a transparent plastic bag containing a quantity of light green liquid.
Two other zips just below each of my knees opened up.
The hood of the garment, with its strip that gripped my forehead tightly, was as rigid as the rest of the outfit. my head was therefore held rigidly upright, so it was impossible to look down and see what was happening below my knees. Something was being removed and then something installed – but exactly what, i didn’t know.
The female slave checked that the bag on the trolley was empty before removing the tubing from my stomach area.
A press of a button on her box and all the invisible zips closed.
Still showing no emotion whatsoever, the female slave left the room. The cell door closed behind her and my chair automatically turned me back towards the screen.
The garment did not release its grip. An audio message came from the monitor.
It was Goddess Cara.
“Before I start, I need to inform you that you will no longer be known as slave penny. You are lower than a slave, and soon there will be others like you. We have decided that your kind will be called slugs.”
Loud female laughter erupted over the audio.
“You are now slug cum.”
There was more laughter.
“Over the next few days, I am being visited by my proteges, Lady Stana and Lady Yvette. We are enjoying such a wonderful morning of debauchery together that this morning’s visit to you has been cancelled.”
“In case you haven’t already realised: your mouth will no longer be needed for the intake of food or hydration. Your rectum will no longer be needed to shit and your slug will no longer be needed to piss.”
Another spell of joyous female laughter broke out.
“There will, I assure you, be other uses for all three of these holes.”
“Now. Before you get back to your tasks, we want to take our share of pleasure from you.”
There was yet more laughter, and i realised the office chair was tilting back slightly, then moved slightly upwards.
“Perfect. It’s important that we see your face very clearly for this next part.”
It became evident that my slug and my nipples were being stimulated by Them. Any initial arousal from this very quickly turned into excruciating pain in both my genitalia and my nipples. The inability to physically move even the smallest muscle denied me any distraction from the growing wave of multiple agonies. The pain in my face clearly pleased the beautiful female onlookers, whose extreme pleasure was reflected in Their raucous laughter. The pain was so intense, i’m sure i nearly passed out at least 3 times. Weirdly it’s as though They knew, because on each occasion the pain abated slightly for a few seconds. Just enough to enable me to recover, before it continued.
Eventually, after a long period of time, it stopped. The laughter ebbed away. They had finally tired of playing with me in this way.
“Now. Get on with your tasks, slug,” was the final audio message.
Tasks? Yes, various admin tasks had to be completed, and one after another they appeared on the screen throughout the day. i never knew what was coming next. i could access only what was required to fulfil the current task.
The monitor had no clock function and no time schedules were given for any task. Despite this, i felt sure that my every action on the computer was monitored, and my fixation on the task at hand never wavered.
Sunday, 14th June 2026
It was only the second full day in my transformed cell and wearing what someone, somewhere had referred to as my “life garment”. Despite that, the intense events of the morning, the diary writing task on the new computer, the visit by the emotionless female slave (that i now realised was providing my daily nourishment and hydration through a surgical entry-point into my stomach, and removing waste from bags attached to my legs), were all beginning to feel routine.
i couldn’t help but constantly anticipate and hope for a visit from the Goddess and Her two proteges, but that hasn’t occurred yet. Despite the inevitable pain and discomfort that such a visit might induce, there was a sense of growing disappointment as i realised the afternoon was passing and there was no sign of the Goddess, my Owner.
The laughter of the three Superior and Dominant women still rang in my ears.
There was a time the call of the blackbird and the distant reply were my favourite sounds, but now the joyous, cruel laughter with which i was gifted the previous day had replaced it.
The day proved to be, what might now become, a normal day for me. Ironic that it was a Sunday, because the days of the week had meant nothing to me for years, so for Sunday, of all days, to be the first day of the new norm was poignant.
Three times throughout the day and evening, i had clicked the confirm box to say i had finished a task and a notice came on the screen telling me i must recite a mantra out loud. That i would be required to learn it by heart in time, but not now. Recite and embrace were the terms used in each case.
Each time, the screen would go a deep dark red for a few seconds, with the emblem that now constantly appeared on my screen at intervals emblazoned in white against the very dark background.
During this short gap my nipples would feel a gentle teasing pulse through them, and my slug felt a similarly gentle pulse throb through it. The intervention in my slug was hardly necessary, because submissive arousal and torment down there had been peaking for most of the last two or more years. During that time, the chastity cage had only been removed for essential cleaning needs, and that only took a few seconds each time.
The pulse through my nipples did however add a new layer to the delicious ache that is submission.
Each of the three mantras was different. They were very short, and each one mentioned Goddess Cara and ‘The Sisters of Salvation’. This was a new term to me.
Throughout the whole day and evening, i was denied all concept of time. Also denied the day’s schedule, i had no knowledge of what lay before me at any time. All as it should be. Glory indeed to the Sisters of Salvation.
As i lay on my bed, after the garment had gripped me in its vice, i realised anew that Goddess Cara is very much the Queen Pin in what was obviously a large organisation.
An organisation that had numerous well organised slaves, and financial resources clearly way beyond anything i could imagine. Where did that all come from so quickly?
Before i could ponder further, i felt a familiar cold sensation in the back of my hand. Sleep was upon me.
This post is the second batch of weekly 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 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.
Please do not attempt to recreate or actually live in the ways described in this erotic fiction piece. All BDSM activities require mutual trust, care, and active consent, whether you play within the SSC or RACK framework.
Find out more about this FemDom fantasy erotica area in my introduction post: Daydreams or Nightmares? My Slave Confesses His Most Extreme Sub Fantasies.
Click to read penny’s first week of diary entries.
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