|WARNING – DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE OF A SQUEAMISH DISPOSITION|
On Saturday, I woke as normal, before dawn, with a morning glory desperate to get out of the chastity device. It had been on for three weeks, except for it falling off three times, and once for a wank, which was exceedingly generous of Mistress Pixie (see previous entries). But this morning there was something more than the usual discomfort of the bulge: my ballbag felt like it was on fire. I was to visit Mistress Pixie that day to perform my weekly domestic chores.
Before I started, I asked to be released so that we could take a closer look at my painful scrotum. It turned out that right underneath, some chafing had turned into bleeding, which had then turned into a green crust. I had been talking to another chastity slave on twitter, who had been fitted with exactly the same device. We had both come to the conclusion that it was a cheap piece of shit. I informed Mistress Pixie of this, and She kindly told me that She thought it best to throw this cage in the bin, and give my balls a chance to recover. Lesson learnt: invest in a decent device. Luckily a new one was in the post, due to arrive in the week.
I performed my chores, gave Mistress and Her friend Scarlett foot massages, and was beaten by Mistress’ crop as punishment for failing a pantie spot-check (see previous post) and a seventh from Scarlett for stealing some of Her biscuits. I was sent away with very strict instructions to not play with myself: my time free of a device was for recuperation, it was not an excuse for me to wank myself silly. I went home, and, quite predictably, wanked myself silly, while thinking about Mistress’ perfect feet. I had another one the following morning, again in the afternoon, and a fourth on Monday morning. Naturally I felt wretched about my disobedience and confessed all to Mistress in a miserable message. To say She wasn’t impressed would be a grand understatement.
I booked a phone appointment with my GP, and told them I had nicked by ballbag whilst shaving it. I was given a prescription for some cream, which I collected, and began to apply. I had another wank that afternoon, and a sixth on Tuesday morning. I saw Mistress later that day, and received six strokes of Her vicious cane, one for each wank, and a seventh as a warning to keep my hands away from my dick. She also informed me that the six I had would equal six months without wanking once my balls had recovered enough for the new cage to go on. And sure enough, the cream seemed to be doing its work. The green crust had become a black scab, dangling off my ballbag. Failure that I am, I had six more wanks before I saw Mistress again the following Saturday. I confessed them in a message, and She told me this would now be a whole year without wanking once I was caged again. I am pretty confident that She is winding me up. There is no way She would let me go that long without orgasm. She certainly didn’t give me another six strokes for wanks seven to twelve. I think some very nice Christmas presents may have helped there. The new device had arrived by this point, and I brought it along to show Mistress. It’s very snug. Even getting a semi will be painful. We’ll find out in the coming weeks.