(To read this full post with the pictures, subscribe to my Onlyfans here.) (Please keep in mind that this post was written a full year ago before the time of publishing.)
It’d been about a month and a half since Lois and I had the conversation in which our dynamic ended. She’d said hi a few times to see how I was doing, but that’d been all.
I had just spent my day with a friend on the other side of the country and was about to reach the train station when my Fitbit vibrated. Who needs me now? I thought, annoyed to be notified of a new message this clearly. It was Lois. My demeanour instantly changed. She observed I’d taken proper ownership of my FetLife profile (I’d let her run my profile before) but I couldn’t reply that minute; I had to return the bike to the train station. “Yes,” I replied when I got my hands free. Another vibration and the text on my Fitbit screen told me she asked if I was getting better. Again, I couldn’t immediately reply; I still had to say bye to my friend. When I got the chance I said, “I guess?” and then Lois asked if I was busy right now. I mentioned that I was about to get on a train and not be busy. Four minutes later I had boarded said train and had started my three-hour-long journey home.
She asked me if I thought talking to her was good or bad for me right now. I suppose you are wondering the same thing. Her first message immediately gave me that same old sense of excitement and alertness; ready to serve. But it also made my stomach sink and my body go cold. She wasn’t my Mistress anymore. Serving her wasn’t on the table.
At the same time, not talking was worse so I said that I thought it was good, or at the very least not bad. I immediately followed this up by asking if she thought it was bad and then listed how certain things in my life had helped me feel more stable recently. There’d been a decrease in breakdowns by 60% and had some hope on the horizon, but when it went bad it still went really bad. She said that made sense.
I felt a little bit on edge, aware that these were just another few checking in messages. I thought she would probably go within a few minutes and then I’d be stuck with my thoughts on this long journey. At the same time, I felt glad that we were talking just now. I wrote to her about how I’d been trying to keep my slave part alive. She asked me if I was still wearing thongs. One of my rules had been to only wear thongs, which wasn’t something I would’ve ever done without her order.
I was still wearing them now, however. As well as keeping up shaving, keeping a clean room and making an effort to wear something nice. She asked me what I was wearing. I had stopped sending her pictures of my outfits because it had felt wrong to send them. Like, I didn’t feel like she wanted them anymore. That day I was wearing a pretty casual, green dress, thong, sheer tights and light beige boots. She suggested I could send her a picture now.
I said something about how I wasn’t sure how to take the picture considering I was on a train. She then told me to try and it felt strangely right to read the order. I showed her the upper half of what I was wearing after which she told me to include the bottom half.
I said something about how it was funny I had started enjoying dressing nicely, as well as how I found it fascinating that saying Miss/Mistress ended up becoming so natural once, whereas at the very start it was so alien. She asked me if I would like to continue saying that to her. I replied with a half statement/half question, “not if you think it’s bad.” She said that depended on how I would cope with it.
I wasn’t sure but it felt like I had separated her as my Mistress from also just being a Mistress and therefore the answering with “yes Mistress” felt like more of a respect thing at that moment and it had felt wrong, to have actively avoided using it up until that point. And just because she was no longer training me, didn’t mean that respect aspect had to fall away. I had after all, at one point said I’d be happy to simply play occasionally too.
“What if I told you to go to the toilet and take off your thong and bra?”
This felt like a turning point. I didn’t really know what this meant, but it felt like the confirmation that she wasn’t going to disappear out of my life entirely. Giving me an order, in a different way, showed me that she cared. “I’d obey, of course, it arouses me,” I said. So I got up, took my things and locked the toilet door behind me. Okay, I thought. This isn’t that bad. It’ll be nice to wear no panties… exciting, really.
It was a bit of a struggle to take off my underwear because I was wearing tights and the train just happened to be moving quite a bit. Also, the toilets are disgusting… It didn’t help to have to try and avoid stepping in anything wet. She wanted me to fold the thong and put it under my pussy in the tights. Then I went back to my seat.
I told her walking felt a bit strange like this. She asked me if I had a bag with me and what was in it, which were… two sets of keys, lip balm, bank card, train card, a bottle of water and hair ties. She told me to go back to the toilet, insert the lip balm in my vagina and to then come back.
I felt a small twinge. People would definitely notice that I had just gone to the toilet. But I did as she told. It was easy to insert the lip balm as I was quite wet and definitely aroused. However, it hurt a lot more than inserting a vibrator. It was especially painful when walking and when I sat down, I didn’t let my body sink down in my seat. Instead, I pushed my back against the seat and kept the rest of my weight on my legs.
She asked me if I wanted it to hurt less and how long I could keep on sitting like this, avoiding to sit down. I remarked that I might want it to hurt less personally, but since I assumed she’d enjoy it more if it hurt, the answer was no. She told me to sit down properly and that it didn’t matter how much it hurt.
I knew that’s what she was going to say and while I felt a little afraid of the extra pain, I felt peace in complying and feeling it. I fell into the mindset she’d taught me that I should embrace the pain and that it’s good. I wrote to her that it didn’t matter if it hurt, so she asked me why that statement wasn’t entirely correct.
The reason why is because it matters since it would please her that it hurt. But it didn’t matter in regards to me because this wasn’t dangerous to my personal wellbeing. It also aroused me that it hurt and she concluded that pain was good for me. I think she was right.
Just then, the lip balm stopped hurting me. It seemed like my vagina had finally gotten used to it. Even when I moved in my seat, the pain didn’t return. Even when I walked to another seat, the pain stayed at bay and she wanted to know how that made me feel, which was disappointed. It felt like it would have been better if it hurt more because then we could both enjoy it more. The pain wasn’t bad because it felt like a way for me to please her, as well as a way to remind me of what I am, and the cause of my own arousal.
I had to move trains at this point and mentioned that the thong that’d been folded and placed underneath my vagina had moved and that it felt quite awkward now. She very deadpan-like said that that was expected, which yes… of course it was but… It felt awkward because while I could literally see that it wasn’t visible, I still worried about it being visible. It’s funny how I had embraced the pain but couldn’t embrace the embarrassment of people seeing odd things.
On the next train, I returned to the toilet as she wanted me to replace the lip balm with my keys instead. Both set of keys. One set had two keys, a label and an extra clip-on thingy. The other was just one key with a label.
By this point, I must have already been in the toilet for 10 minutes and I started worrying about the time. If normal insertion is painful, try keys. Not pleasant. Instead of letting me out now, she told me to put the lip balm up my bum and then before being allowed to leave the toilet, I had to put a ball of toilet paper in my mouth. Lastly, she told me to put soap in my mouth and to wash it around without water. I was allowed to spit it out but not wash it out. And oh my god the taste of soap is disgusting. I didn’t expect it to be that bad.
By this point, I had less than an hour left on the train. After I’d get off, there’d be no public toilet and I needed one of the keys to unlock my bike at the train station to get home. I asked Lois if I could go to the toilet to take them out at 5 minutes before arrival but she didn’t answer and asked me how this was feeling now. Was it better to be in more pain? For me, not for her?
I felt like it was good because I was embracing the pain; I was very aware of the pain and it aroused me. And additionally, the pain made me feel more submissive, which is definitely a good feeling to me.
Did I want it to stop though? It felt like I had a partial like and a partial dislike for it. On the one hand, I wanted it to stop, but on the other hand, I knew I’d be disappointed once the keys came out. Often my initial feeling seems to cloud the real feeling. The initial feeling, in this case, would be wanting the pain to stop, while the real feeling is for it not to stop.
Lois told me to close my eyes and imagine that the fake feeling was moving away slowly, while the real feeling floated towards me.
Usually, imagining things like this doesn’t work for me, but it did that day. It felt peaceful.
She told me that I was to take the key out for my bike later. And that I was to put the thong in my mouth while cycling home. I said I was going to go to the toilet now but she told me to wait. There were 7 minutes left before arrival.
She asked me if I was getting nervous.
I was quite calm.
She asked me again, a minute later… was I still calm?
I just dissociated a little to feel ‘calm,’ which in reality must have meant that I wasn’t, but I couldn’t feel it. So oh well.
She asked me what would happen if I had to get off the train with the keys still inside.
It’d mean having to find a dark place to get them out… (I mean… if I was worried about people seeing something strange under my dress earlier because of the folded thong… then this was…)
Was that a bad thing? Yes… I guess? But was it bad in a good way? Maybe? I mean, I don’t tend to be aroused when I’m too stressed about the situation.
So she told me to close my eyes again and to imagine that the stressed feeling was fading away and that the good feeling floated towards me.
And then there was no way back… the train had arrived. I felt a bit dreadful. And also focused. When there’s no other option and I just have to get it done, I can sometimes do things I never thought I otherwise could have.
Finding a dark place in the middle of the city centre wasn’t that easy though… not without walking for a while and I didn’t particularly fancy walking far. I walked out of the station and noticed every person I passed. I was looking for a dark spot somewhere but I couldn’t really find any. I felt excited and scared and stressed. Damn that stressed feeling for returning. I tried not to think about how my feelings; I simply had to get this done and the sooner, the better.
I decided to go into a side street, essentially just one street away from the train station. I could see the street from where I was standing and pushed myself up against the wall of a building, to ensure the lip balm wouldn’t slip out as I tried to push the keys out of my vagina. It felt like it had worked but I couldn’t grab them yet… not here… so I started moving again except this one guy who’d been looking at me earlier had suddenly appeared.
I waited to see if he was just passing by, which he did, but he then came back. I decided to get back to the area with people. Lois asked me if I was okay and if we needed to change plans, but I lost him. I then went back and stood in another place, sort of shielded from people unless they walked past.
I started pulling at the keys but they were so slippery that I couldn’t successfully grab a hold of them. Another man walked past and I had to wait 10 seconds for him to leave. I tried again, same problem, and then someone else walked past. I managed to grab another part of the keys which wasn’t as slippery the third time around, but just as I started pulling them out, a couple walked past. This repeated itself 3 more times, after which I decided I had to get them out now. Super quickly. Didn’t matter how. I had to. And I did. Thank god.
I had to put the other key back in, grabbed my thong and put it in my mouth. Finally, I walked to my bike and cycled home and as I was cycling home I realised that I wasn’t currently worried about anything in life. I felt perfectly fine and like everything was alright. I also realised that I’d felt similarly while on the train, ever since Lois and I started talking.
I was allowed to take the thong out of my mouth before entering the house. I asked her if I should make up an excuse so I could go upstairs right away.
She said it depended on if I wanted to feel more pain tonight.
To be continued in part 2.
(To read this full post with the pictures, subscribe to my Onlyfans here. Includes my outfit with nipples pointing through, removed panties, key insertion and what they looked like after coming out.)
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You are your journey are fascinating to read and reflect on because you are always identifying new dimensions to your slave and your strong ML identities, and what arouses you and what creates inner turmoil. I can identify with your naming your experience on the train as “Fun.” A fun of self-exploration, discovering your thoughts and feelings through the dialogues and physical experiments, and a number of “Aha” insights. I have never experienced putting items into my limited male self. I wonder whether those who insert items under their skin do this from a desire to explore or from a desire to feel more complete or whole. I realize I am so ignorant about these aspects of being human. I appreciate your stretching my consciousness. …which is “fun” for me.
Yes, the entire journey felt to me like I was learning something new every day and I think it really shows. I’m glad that reading these is fun!
This was an exciting read! Keys in your vagina… I can only imagine how much that must have hurt! Looking forward to part 2.
Thank you! Honestly would not like to do it again lol.
This was fascinating, and a little disconcerting, I’ve heard horror stories about toys travelling up your bum if they don’t have big enough stops – I’m so glad nothing went wrong with that little lipsalve cannister.
I do admire how brave you are and how game to follow your mistress’ instructions (I know technically she isn’t mistress any more – but the relationship still has power). You have great powers of description and tenacity – very candid post.
LOL, I have heard of that too actually but that never crossed my mind during or while writing this. I will definitely keep this in mind in the future lol. But I also don’t expect to run into someone like Lois again so I doubt someone would tell me to put lipbalm up my bum again!
Yes, and it’s transferable. My Mistress can mean any Mistress in time who ends up being my Mistress. Thank you Posy, means a lot
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