Tales From The Circus

Dear Diary,

As I write this it is day Eleven of a Twenty-One Day Lock. Time since last Hygiene open four days, six hours and thirteen minutes (give or take a minute) – before anyone worries about my cleanliness my cage is made for long term wear and inconvenient shaped holes to allow water, soap to get in and out and often to allow chunks of spare skin to try and force its way out. The head of my penis has a much better appreciation for cauliflower ear this time spent playing with chastity. Playing being the key word – but that’s for later.

For right now it is day eleven of a Twenty-One-day lock aimed to improve my obedience, focus me on tasks I want to focus on – this blog being one such example – but most importantly help me reduce (with the ultimate aim of to stop smoking in the very near future.) so far it has gone well, I finished a first draft of a screenplay that had been unfinished for months on end, I was running a little semi-regularly and had cut my smoking by half or more in just under a fortnight.

This is day eleven of a twenty-one day lock nearing four and a half days caged without a seconds break, my previous record of 44 hours without a break seems months ago, maybe I can go the entire of this lock without opening again?!? Everything is looking swell, so a non-eventful blog post then.

Not quite, this is day eleven of a Twenty-One day lock – oh but the countdown timer is frozen (has been for just over 12 hours at this point) and more importantly, there’s THIRTY DAYS remaining of my Twenty-One Day lock…

Yeah, you read that right – I myself had to double take this morning when I checked the clock. Coming round I felt groggy as if slightly hungover but I hadn’t drunk anything. As the numbers start to compute in my head I remember the events of the evening before. It all started just after my last blog post, technically the events of that blog post was my second mistake and it all started the night previous to that – but I was blissfully unaware of either cock up at this point.

I had just sent the blog over to Lady Nyssa to read and we were chatting on Discord – I was in her good graces, I’d been doing really well on my goals and lock and despite a brief issue where some just over four days had been added due to me not verifying whilst ill the previous week, the lock was looking good. Not least because she had planned some tasks to humiliate me (that I begged for) so I could try and earn some of that time back.

We had discussed what the tasks would entail the night before – it was during this conversation I made my first mistake. I had wanted to try and earn time off my clock by doing some humiliating tasks of her choosing. She asked me what kind of stuff humiliated me – I said sissy stuff.

This was a lie.

As you can see by the events of my last post and the images I reblog here that is clearly one of my kinks. So anyway we were chatting, we laughed at me nearly pillorying myself because instead of teasing myself with denial porn for ten minutes as instructed by the task spinner I’d watched for nearly 19 minutes and hadn’t notified the app I’d complete the task – there’s a 20 minute timer or into the pillory where people can add chunks of time to my timer – 21 minutes I had set it when creating the lock originally. She laughed…

And then she read my blog post.

I didn’t notice her tone had changed, it’s hard to in text sometimes, when she asked me if sissy/humiliation tasks are more a reward for me. I remember quietly clearly grinning while typing “guilty”.

“Hmmmm. You have a very upset Lady right now.” Was her next response. I lose the grin instantly. I start apologising profusely she ignores me continuing instead “and to toss another person in my face.”

Another person, my mind races… Oh the sodding bimbo doll! I start to type about how it’s not like… I stop and clear the line and return to just begging for forgiveness. Because it was like that really. The game for me is all about losing control, doing as told but I’d never stopped to consider that there are multiple people playing pieces on the board. I’m so self-absorbed about what everything means to me I hadn’t stopped to consider what does and doesn’t have meaning to other people. A quick look at my pillory speaks volumes – the time added per vote increased from 21 minutes to ONE DAY 21 minutes but more telling and wounding was the stated reason:

 ​​​​​

I apologised several more times, shared my lock link in as many places or people I could trust to reprimand me for Lady Nyssa and went to bed. I thought for a moment about how earlier in the week I had internally had a word about getting too invested in this silly little game – That it was stupid getting attached in however small a way – this was just a silly little game. I thought comes to the forefront and I make a point to write it down, eager to note it down in case it’s lost by the time I come to write this blog I’m now writing.

The Games We Choose To Play Matter. It matters how we play and who we play with. It matters most in the most trivial of games. How we play those games that don’t really matter tells us the most about ourselves in the parts of ourselves that matter the most.

I get super pretentious some point after a week or so being locked it seems.

This whole roleplay/reality mix had my head swimming when I finally retired to bed for the evening. At the core of any game we had been playing was pretence, play. The giving away of control over my cock – despite the clear plastic cage, metal padlock and disguised lockbox – is technically a piece of theatre. I’m no master criminal but fairly confident I could pick the lock, force open the safe or in worst case scenario dismantle the cage with a chisel and hammer fairly sharpish. But that’s not the point of the game.

The game is to take the temptation away and give away control – to allow someone else to keep me accountable to my own goals, which lets face it if the last two years was anything to go by I could do with a hand with. But somewhere in amongst this game an element of reality was suddenly very apparent like a giant shard of broken glass on a perfect beach, unexpected and just as lethal.   

Ten Thing I’d Hate For You To Do To Me

So in an effort to be fully honest with my Ringmistress (and through extension of this blog, all of you) here my Top Ten List of things I Hate, in the context of punishment. If it’s on the list I hate it and really don’t want to experience this – IE an actual punishment. Though the ones far down the list I REALLY REALLY don’t want to do. The top two / three spots – I’m being serious PLEASE – whatever you want but not THAT.

10 – Laugh at me – Like not “ha ha ha you did something silly because I told you too” I mean the laugh when it’s not intended – when the humiliation and humour is as real as that twinge of jealousy. A simple well-timed laugh or comment – an observation or a tease that cuts through the theatre and strikes a truth about me – that shit really hurts – near impossible to fabricate I appreciate but I wanted to make the most honest list of punishments I could so this has to be on there, especially considering it’s ability to be used in conjunction with pretty much every entry on this list.

9 – Waste my time (Mentally) – Being forced to binge watch terribly written TV burns at my soul. To then say nice things about it afterwards is pretty much the ending of “1984” in my mind. Would I consider being forced to watch crap like Gossip Girl and Dynasty and then praise its storytelling torture – yes I would of one of the most barbaric kinds. Find ways to ensure I pay attention – paying attention to mindless drivel truly sucks – Sailor Moon and Wolf’s Raine are examples of Anime that fit in the mindless drivel category too.

8 – Hard CBT – A classic but for good reason. Cock and ball torture is by its very nature not very pleasant. While I fully admit there is a small weird grey area where it can both hurt and be pleasurable but after a point it just hurts a lot for quite a bit afterwards, during those moments piling on more and more punches, slaps, paddles that just is pain and often a lasting queasiness in my stomach – it doesn’t help that while my threshold for pain is really low my ability to continue to bare an unhealthy amount of pain and keep self-inflicting punishments is not a great combination for myself. Sadists get an absolute kick out of me though…

7 – Waste my time (Physically)– Thing of a boring, lengthy monotonous task. Get me to spend a very long time doing said time, get me to destroy any evidence of my ever having completed the task. Tell me to do it again – repeat as desired. I’m so time focused the idea of purposefully doing the same thing again and again knowing the only reward is getting to start all over when I’m done. This is torture.

6 – Bore me – …which is doing nothing. I suppose technically an extension of waste my time but forcing me to waste my time doing nothing – no entertainment or distraction. I hate, hate, hate this and worse yet I suck at it. I dabbled a couple of times trying to self punish myself using the cornertime app from github (https://cornertime.github.io/) but the best I’ve managed is a few minutes. Just standing in the corner and waiting is so god damn tedious!

5 – Silence Me – I have a bloody lot to say for myself – it has been often noted that I like the sound of my own voice. While I feel that’s a tad harsh not being allowed to speak or penalised each time I do infuriates me internally – at first I’m fairly good at showing how much this irritates me but beneath the surface it boils my blood like not much else, especially if choices are being presented and then chosen for me without my being able to put my input in. Emasculating beyond words.

4 – Ignore Me – Probably the worst thing I can imagine in forms of punishment without crossing hard limit / no interest in whatsoever territory. Speak when spoken to and say nothing otherwise torments the small child that is at the core of me both as a Man and as a sub and has some obvious ties to the previous entry.

3 – Public Exposure / Public Humiliation / Blackmail – Technically a hard limit but due to the large grey area between this and Humiliation Fetish pushing that hard limit would be super uncomfortable and a very unpleasant experience, but I begrudgingly acknowledge in the right circumstance there is room to push the envelope with where my limits lie here.

2 – Findom Drain – The second worst thing I could think of is Findom drain – to clarify I have no issue paying for a session or for activities etc. But the actual payment part of the experience has never been a fetish or kink of mine and the idea of paying for nothing or because of blackmail or just because you say so kills the game element and my interest.

1 – Free me – The worst thing you could ever possibly do to me. Cut me off, release me to the wild and just tell me that you are no longer playing. Abandonment issues are my kryptonite, and nothing would punish me more then saying you’re done with me.

So there you have it. For those wondering at time of writing I am still currently frozen, 30 Days and Four Hours… Oh wait it’s just jumped to 30 Days and Five Hours… Oh Lady Nyssa voted to add an hour to my lock as I checked the clock… I must remember to thank her for that…

I don’t mean that sarcastically by the way, I’m so lucky to have her, for her to take the time out of her morning to torment me even, even at times like now when I am in her bad books (rightfully so I must add). I’m truly very lucky to be allowed to stay at the circus.

Ami Beau

xxx