Thanks to Slave Taquin and his eager imagination I have added more strings to my bow. The first being the use of writeforme.com for slave tasks and the second being a self added bow in the form of a perfectly executed plot to torment and tease my Deelightful play thing! I gave him the code to his chastity key safe, without actually telling him I had given him the code; even greater than that, was that I delivered the message through his vanilla friend! Yes, I am an Evil Genius!
Mistress seemed very pleased with herself on Sunday morning. She had read my blog and realised that everything that she had done to me the week before (particularly relating to the day I was required to treat her to a nice lunch) had affected me in all the ways that she knew that it would. She had sent me a note to that effect and just signed it ‘Mistress’. I sent her two more notes that day:
One was an e mail confirming where my little slave brain had ended up after my lunch with Mistress the week before – It said that I had been made to realise that Mistress could make me feel dominated and submissive outside of the HOD without humiliating me.
And the second was to thank her for not allowing me the orgasm that I had requested at the end of the previous week – this might seem odd to some reading this, as I was absolutely desperate to be allowed to take off the device and give myself an orgasm, and I mean DESPERATE. But it is a bit like the experience of giving up smoking that I endured many years ago. I remember then the incredible urge/need to have just one cigarette. But I also remember that the need would ease after an hour or so and in its place would come the deep satisfaction of not having broken my vow. Mistress knows that she can take me to the point of total, unbearable, horny frustration, but she also knows that, ultimately, the only orgasm that I really want is the one that she is sometimes generous enough to provide with her own wonderful hands when she has me secured at the HOD. Mistress knows what is best for me.
Tuesday was another first for me. During our lunch the previous week we had discussed the idea of a slave being made to write lines as a task or punishment. It is not something that I have ever been made to do in the past and was unsure how I would feel about it.
I awoke on Tuesday morning to find that Mistress had sent me a link to a site called writeforme.org
I waited for Mistress to kindly grant me access to my PC at 8am and followed the link. It opened up to a private page on Write For Me. Mistress had sent me a writing task that was only accessible by me (there are lots of public tasks on the site that I suspect are put there by FinDoms wanting to give a flavour of what a sub could expect – and provide access to their Twitter and Website addresses).
My task looked pretty straightforward. I was to type in the following text:
‘My name is Slave Taquin. I trust my Mistress with every inch of my body.’
Now I am a pretty slow two finger typist, but thought that even I could complete a few lines without too much difficulty. I knew that I would not be able to copy and paste (although I did of course try!) but thought that if I made any mistakes that I would be able to ‘back space’ to correct them. I also thought that this was just a simple system test by my Mistress and that I wouldn’t be required to do very many lines. How wrong I was on all counts!
At first I couldn’t get any idea of how many lines would be required. I also had no idea of the implication of making a mistake – any mistake.
I started to type. I successfully typed two lines. On the 3rd line I got as far as the T in Taquin but forgot to capitalise it. Instantly the screen declared my mistake and I had to start the line again. (What I didn’t realise at that point was that Mistress had also set it up to add an additional line, for every mistake made, to the original number required). I started again and made the same mistake again. And again! I slowed down and completed three lines successfully before starting to miss ‘spaces’ and then ‘full stops’ and then ‘capitalisation’ again. It was at this point that I noticed two other things. Firstly that there was a progress bar just underneath where I was typing that was hardly moving at all and secondly that I felt trapped and helpless as I knew that I must complete the task for Mistress. I feared that there might be a time limit or possibly extra lines added for a pause in typing and so couldn’t stop. At this point Mistress hadn’t told me of any punishment for non completion, but even so I was not going to fail her. Eventually I went slowly enough to complete a few lines without errors and the progress bar started to move. But then my mind drifted for just a moment and I would make another mistake. Over and over I typed ‘My name is Slave Taquin. I trust my Mistress with every inch of my body.’ And still I was trapped in front of my own PC. In the end the progress bar completed its travel from left to right and writeforme congratulated me in the successful completion of my first task. It had taken me 43 minutes, I had originally been set just 50 lines but as a result of my 35 mistakes! I had been made to complete an additional 35 lines. It appeared that Mistress had found yet another tool to dominate me from a distance.
On Wednesday I was to meet my vanilla lady friend for lunch. I had been instructed by Mistress to take her somewhere nice and to ensure that I paid. For her part my friend had instructed me to pick her up from her home in order that she could have a glass of wine. Today was definitely a day for doing what I was told. About an hour before I set off I received a text from Mistress telling me to remove my device, edge, allow things to subside and then to lock myself up again. The fact that Mistress was going to allow me to touch her property excited me greatly. I assumed that she had forgotten that I was locked with the padlock and sent her a text requesting the 4 digit code for the key safe. She responded that I should try and guess the code. Now if Mistress says this it normally means that I should be able to work it out. And so I started to try different codes based on everything I could think of. I tried the access code for my PC, variations of Mistresses phone numbers, the house number of the HOD etc etc. I sent her a text telling her of all the numbers that I had tried. She replied with the phrase ‘Aren’t I just the perfect tease’ and ‘have fun with your friend’ followed by the horned devil emoticon. Now I had made a point of not reminding Mistress about my lunch date. I had of course asked for her permission to go out but that had been several days earlier. (I had allowed myself to get so worked up the last time I had taken her to lunch that I had deliberately tried to keep a low profile on it this time). Apparently Mistress hadn’t forgotten!
I had picked my friend up from her home and as we drew up outside the pub my phone pinged. It was Mistress declaring that she was ‘an evil genius’ with the devil emoticon once again. I showed my friend who seemed to find it most amusing. We went into the pub and enjoyed a really nice lunch. We chatted about all things vanilla (in her life) and fetish (in mine). My friend who has declared herself more ‘raspberry ripple’ than ‘vanilla’ enjoys hearing all about what Mistress subjects me to. I did keep a look out occasionally to see if Mistress was approaching. You can never be sure of anything from my experience. At one point I received a notification on my phone to say that Mistress was sharing her location. But then couldn’t find any other reference to it. It did make me look over my shoulder more frequently from that point. After 2 and a half hours of joyous chit-chat I paid the bill and we jumped in my car for the drive home. All was quite normal until we were about half a mile from my friend’s home. But at that point she told me that there was something that she needed to tell me. My Mistress antenna started to beep loudly. My friend proceeded to tell me that I was now going to be subjected to a test of my memory and attentiveness to what she had been telling me during our lunch. She went on to tell me that during the course of our lunch she had specifically made mention of 4 numbers. She hadn’t referred at any time to any other numbers, and each of the numbers had been stated in a specific order. Mistress and my friend had colluded to set me a task. They were the numbers for my key safe. My friend gleefully went on to tell me that I had two hours to remember the 4 numbers and to release myself from the device. She told me that she was under strict instructions not to give me any clues and that she had no intention of doing so anyway. As I drew up outside her house I realised how impossible this task was going to be. As my friend was about to walk away from my car I reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the key safe. I said that if she wanted to she could just enter the correct number for me. She looked at me and said that she could, but that she wouldn’t, and laughed as she went in her front door.
As I drove home I tried, I mean really tried, to think of the conversation that I had with my friend. And I remembered lots of it. But I couldn’t for the life of me think of where specific numbers had entered into it. I got back and took my keysafe with me into the workshop. I knew I had a chance to touch Mistresses property if only I could think straight. And then I remembered something. When we had gone to bar on arrival at the pub I had ordered a glass of wine for my friend, and she had said something like ‘Oh I will need two of those today I should think’. I had thought it a little strange to be declaring her likely consumption at this stage (and indeed I suspected that two might be an underestimate considering the length of time we were likely to be chatting!) but hadn’t thought any more of it at the time. So 2 was my first number I was sure. I then turned my mind to the second number knowing that if I could get it I would be able to trial and error tumblers 3 and 4 if necessary. But I could not think of another occasion when my friend had used a specific number in our conversations. I was beaten. Or was I? I know that Mistress has a tendency to use number repletion in her codes such as 5454 or 7272. And so I started experimenting with 2020, 2121, 2222, 2323 etc, but none of them worked. And in my growing exasperation I just started to enter random numbers starting with a 2. And still nothing worked. I threw the keysafe down in total frustration. Mistress and my friend had played with my mind and therefore Mistresses property, (which by this time was trying to escape through its bars) and had reduced me to a frustrated, quivering, horny wreck. I have often fantasised about this sort of collusion being used against me but I could never have imagined how perfectly it would be executed. But then I was just a man up against two formidable women. What chance did I have?
That evening I had just received a new writeforme task from Mistress when I had to ask for her permission to deal with an urgent family matter. Mistress very kindly gave me the time that I needed and it was actually Friday morning before I found myself back in her grip. And how she gripped me! I had opened the writeforme task and suspected that it was going to be quite difficult. ‘Quite difficult’ turned out to be a ridiculous understatement.
In her introduction to the task she said ‘This should do the trick, Slave!!’ The sentence to be written was:
‘Dear Mistress Deelight, Thank you for the absolutely genius way that you orchestrated my torment today. Yours Submissively, Slave Taquin’
I was to write the line 20 times. That probably sounds pretty easy. It wasn’t at all. Mistress had spent time learning the little games that she could play in order to make it more and more difficult as the task progressed. I am not going to disclose exactly what happened here as I suspect that it might be used as a weapon of torment against other slaves. Let me just say that it took me 55 minutes and 26 seconds of total frustration before I had completed it.
I think it is only right to take this opportunity to disclose how I feel about being set lines as a task or a punishment. It is in my mind ridiculous that a grown man should be forced to write lines by a young woman. To be quite honest I find it childish, belittling and demeaning. And I love it! It seems to really play to my submissive need for tangible power exchange. I know that I have to do it and I know that Mistress will know if I fail. She has now found a way of figuratively chaining me to my PC whenever, and for as long as, she wants. It also plays to Mistresses wonderful ability to use words to nurture, manipulate or torment. Mistress continues to develop and perfect new ways to control and dominate her slaves. What very lucky slaves we are.