This morning, Miss Carmen sent me a photo of my ‘scorecard’ clipped with my one-week mark ticked off. It has been a week since Big Boy and The Twins were sent to prison in Miss Carmen’s cock-cage. Eight days.
One week in, I thought I’d give an update on how I’m doing. Frickin’ great is how I’m doing! Physically, I’m fine. As long as my jocks are not too tight, then there’s physically no issue with my device. I’m never not aware of it, but it’s a comfortable awareness. And if I lay splay-legged on my bed to air out the nether regions while enjoying a few pages of James Clavell’s ‘Shogun’ before bed, I don’t even notice the plastic prison around the Prince. So, from a physical standpoint, it’s most excellent!
Except for two occasions when ‘excellent’ was not on the menu. Let’s just say waking up with an appreciable morning glory while locked in a chastity device is quite the uncomfortable experience! Okay, that hurts. Which, I guess, is exactly its job! But it’s nothing that imagining Sir Keir Starmer nekkid and a splash of ice water from the fridge can’t cure in a hell of a hurry!
This is also where I realised size matters. Erm, as I believe I said, I’m quite talented, and containing the full might of the length and girth of Rocketman into the standard issue cage made me realise that next time I do this, I should get a larger model. I say this in honesty, because it was during these morning glories where I found myself feeling insecure. Don’t ask me to explain, because I’m not sure I could, but while comfortably flaccid, I know I’m locked in. I know there is no way I’ll be able to remove the device without the key or life-altering injury. But while erect, I started to wonder if this thing can hold me. This is a much more distressing thought than it sounds like. I want to be caged in this device (for now). The idea that the cage may ‘pop off’ (as eye-wateringly painful as that may be) is not a reassuring one. Getting a model large enough for Captain Jack will be a priority next time. But once Captain Jack gets demoted to a lance corporal again, the security features kick in again, and I feel as safe as Teikoku Bank, trapped until Miss Carmen allows me my twice-weekly willie-wash. Which will be on Sunday. (Twenty minutes is all I get…)
But from a mental and emotional point of view, this is absolutely brilliant. I’ve never given as much attention to Willie John as I have the last week. The sexual energy is terrific, a level of erotic tension I’ve not had in many, many years. The trouble is, since I do not have an intimate partner, this sexual tension is wasted but still delicious. As said, physically, it’s surprisingly comfortable, but every now and then, I ‘feel’ it, and I grin like the village idiot who got gifted a pie. “Hey, I’m locked up!” For some reason, this ‘reminder’ pleases me enormously.
This morning, my one-week probation period is over. I now know what I’m in for. I gave Miss Carmen the go-ahead to go for the full month. One week down, three weeks to go on my one-month commitment to cock capture. This is terrifying. Yet absolutely liberating.
I’ve never felt more alive, and more like a man, since Miss Carmen took control of my cock. And I’m loving every second of it.
Let’s see if I still feel this way two weeks from now…
This is Big John out. Or rather, still in.