Marina's Regime Part 2 free porn video

Marina's Regime by Aken Chapter 4 Mounting Difficulties Nothing was certain to me now except for this: I would need to begin wearing a very strict corset and right away, or Mistress Marina would likely dump me and never see me again. I carefully stepped into the heavy blue corset, pulling it up until the front busk pressed into my stomach. Feeling its cool rubber lining made me shiver. Then I had an idea. Her letter didn't specify if I should rub the lotion onto my body this first time or not. I looked in the box again and found a large tube with no label. I decided to spread the lotion around me just in case. I stroked it on, front, back and sides, rubbing it in well from my armpits to my hips. It was smooth and creamy. It tingled like mentholated shaving cream, but had a light floral scent instead. After that, the corset lining felt warm to the touch instead of giving me chills. Lacing myself was awkward enough, but after my first round of lace tightening the problem became getting enough air to breathe. How tight is this thing going to be? Now and then I caught myself looking into the mirror again. The illusion was much stronger now than it was after my bath. Instead of just an androgynous hairless body, I now saw a sexy female form standing before me. I consciously tried to undo the message it presented to my mind's eye, but couldn't seem to flip the idea back around. The almost-hourglass figure of my corsetted waist was too effective a statement, the silhouette it gave was too persuasive. At this point I noticed that where the top edge of my corset pressed into my chest, subtle curves had been built into the boned fabric lying just below my hairless breasts. I couldn't quite believe it but the curves had a distinct cupping effect with each pull of my lacework. The curved edges, together with the lengthening cut of the garment as it tapered higher under my arms, created a kind of shelf effect that lifted and pressed my breasts outward. There was no mistaking the ladylike mounds I saw. I turned sideways, hoping they didn't protrude very much, but they did. They were small but undeniable. From across the room they could be seen, framed by the gleaming silk corset that had formed them. It was clear to me why I couldn't unsee the feminized image reflecting back at me. It included breasts. After the second re-tightening I was beginning to feel fairly light- headed. Between my hot bath, the firm pressure against my diaphragm, and the fragrant cream, I couldn't tell what was causing this. I tried resting on my bed for a minute, but sitting seemed impossible. I tried my bedside stool instead. I could just manage to sit, as long as I held my shoulders well back. The cruel corset held me ramrod straight now and forced me to struggle for air. In Box #2 I located the corset shackle. It was all coiled up. I unrolled it to find a wafer thin band of steel or some other metal 2 inches wide at each end. It was light and very flexible and in the center it flared out to 6 or 7 inches. I wrapped it around my waist and saw that the two end-tabs were designed to join together, and form a hasp in front. They could not quite touch yet. I needed to tug my corset in another quarter inch or more. I was down to 7 minutes until 6:00 and had to move quickly. Unknotting my laces I pulled them as hard as I could, exhaling at the same time. After re-tying the laces I discovered that the ends of the shackle would just meet. I fitted the blue padlock through it, finishing at 6 PM on the dot. I felt around my back where the center of the shackle was much wider. It shielded my laces almost completely, most notably where the two sets of lace-ends met at the middle of my back. I couldn't loosen the grip of this corset, much less remove it, short of a cutting torch. 'Great. Now I am crammed into this corset until tomorrow morning. How am I supposed to sleep tonight? I must have been a nut to let her talk me into this.' But a third and final box still remained. No matter what silly task it contained, I wouldn't dare be late completing it. I tore open Box #3. Wonder of wonders, this shoebox actually contained a pair of shoes. Ladies shoes. I groaned aloud at the sight. I actually loved women's shoes - but only on women! Fortunately, one of the few enticements my wife indulged me in was by wearing spikier heels than she really cared to wear. Many times I picked out sexy shoe styles for her and surprised her with them. Celine preferred heels of only 3 to 4 inches, but didn't complain too much if I gave her heels that came closer to 5 inches, her maximum height. This pair was like the heels that pushed Celine to her limit. They were blue silk pumps with a tapered toe-box and slender not-quite-spiked heels a bit over 4 inches in height. These had a short platform too, which didn't make them any steeper but created the look of an almost 6 inch tall shoe. They were borderline hooker heels! If my penis wasn't under a thick metallic sheath unable to budge in any direction I'd have had a hard-on right away. Instead, I felt a frustrating ache, and a sense of dread for what my next task was likely to be. There was a small pile of straps under the shoes that made no sense at all to me, and of course another folded up note from Mistress Marina. Shuddering inwardly I opened it up. Are these not the cutest things you have ever seen, tommie? I suppose I should share one more obsession with you, for I just adore tall sexy women's shoes. Sleek, shiny, yummy high-heels! And there are so many cute styles and colors one might never see them all. I love wearing heels and I love shopping for more. I love seeing ladies wear them, and I adore putting men in them too. In some ways I like them on men the most because men learn so much when adjusting to high heels. Heels alter a girl's stride, and everything about the way she must walk. They enforce a strict learning curve. Do you recall those tan pumps I wore last night? Of course you do. I knew immediately that you were a shoe fetishist. You kept sneaking naughty little peeks at them! These will be much easier than my heels were. It will be no trouble for you. We will call them your starter heels and I will be gentle with you compared to your corset regimen. You are only required to wear these heels for each of the next 5 nights till Thursday's meeting. Box #3 also holds pairs of locking leather shoe-straps which wrap over the instep of each shoe. You will use two yellow locks to secure each foot. Yellow indicates a 10-hour lockup time. These darling shoes must be on your feet with locks closed at the stroke of 7 o'clock, tommie. They will release at 5 AM, the same time that your corset respite and shower hour begins. But instead of putting them back on as you do the corset, your heels do not have to go back on until 7 PM in the evening. I find that it does wonders for men to learn to sleep in sexy stilettos, and thusly shod to perform any errands or duties they may need to do during quiet evenings at home. In no time at all my boyfriends acquire gracefulness along with humility, plus an added awareness for all the little things women who wear heels understand. The quicker you find the kind of balance I am looking for, the faster you move up the ranks. It will be worth it to you to wear them voluntarily at other times too when schedules permit. And just in case you choose to do that, remember I enclosed two other groups of padlocks, green ones and brown ones. They stay shut for 3 hours and 5 hours respectively. If you opt to wear heels for additional hours you earn bonus credits, but only if you wear your locking straps too. I have not told you this yet, but I am able to keep track of every lock I send you. I know when each one engages and which color it is. Extra merit is gained by the tally of green, brown or yellow locks I monitor while you self-accelerate your heel training. That is about it for now, my dear. Remember, at the bottom of Box #3 there are pairs of silky stockings, the kind that cling high on your thighs and remain up by themselves. No novice of mine may wear lovely high heels unless adorable stockings are worn as well. There are several different colors and styles you may select from. The choice is yours. Remember to close your shoe-straps with yellow locks at 7 PM. Stay on schedule. If you have trouble falling asleep, try licking last night's cards and pressing them to your nipples one more time. It may be pleasurable if you have not already used them for that purpose. Your loving Mistress M "I nearly forgot about reusing the cards," I said under my breath. "If only they would help me feel better right now." I was totally fucked. And she had done it to me all so easily. I still needed to iron my sheets and make my bed, and I had yet to cook dinner. But I would have to address all of that later while learning to balance in some difficult new footwear. I had to finish this task first, for I had barely 30 minutes to solve her puzzle of locking shoe straps. I put the heels on the floor next to my stool and poured the contents of Box #3 out on my bed. Kneeling, I unwound and sorted a pile of narrow leather straps. Thankfully, there was a card with a diagram that explained how to tether up a foot with a high-heel shoe upon it. One strap looped around the instep and locked, using a metallic hasp on the highpoint of the arch. Two more straps plus a circlet joined to that hasp from the ankle-back. I counted the thigh-highs she included, finding nine pairs in all. Each offered a different pattern, color or texture. Two pairs were blue. One was a darker blue, and the other was a light shimmery blue with vertical white stripes woven into the silk. I selected the light blue nylons because they matched up better with the satiny blue heels and corset. The stockings were of a very high quality. They slipped on easily and clung securely to my thighs. The dark band at the stocking tops almost met my chastity. In truth, the thigh-highs looked very flattering. I would have loved seeing them on a woman instead of me, however. At least I didn't have to admit any of this was turning me on. The chastity cage gave me that much to be grateful for. As I slipped the shoes on my feet I found them to be a perfect fit. I wondered how Marina could know to order me a size 8 narrow. But it was the least of my concerns. I affixed the shoe locks next, following the instructions on the card. It was tricky, but eventually I got it done. The heels would be attached to my feet until morning, whether I wanted that or not. I've really done it, I said to myself. My dick and balls had been banished for five days, and now I was stuck wearing shoes that were as exotic as anything my ex-wife had ever worn for me. And if that wasn't enough I was trapped in a corset that turned each activity into a minor ordeal. But the strangest part of it was: I did all of this willingly in hopes of earning Mistress Marina's approval. What an irresistible hold she had on me, this desire I felt to please her and to be with her at all costs. A sudden chirrup by Marina's application interrupted my parade of emotions. Mistress had sent another text. It arrived with a candid new pic of her, a close-up of her jubilant face. "Congratulations! You connected tonight's locks right on time for me. You are maintaining my schedule as diligently as I hoped. Be sure to set your alarm and be up on time in the morning. We will embark on a lovely journey from this day on. The results of your training will come more swiftly and provably to you than you can imagine, my dear one. Now I have an honor to bestow, tommie. You are no longer a novice. As of right now you are my sweet new trainee! A trainee has new privileges and responsibilities that I will explain to you in the coming days. Are you as delighted as I am by the progress we are making, my darling?" Naturally only a YES button was provided for my response, so of course I tapped it. My torso tingled warmly under the corset. My balls ached in the numbing grasp of chilled steel while my two confined feet arched restlessly beneath me. It was all they could do. "Cross your heart and never lie?" came her now-familiar request. "Yes," I replied. Yes. Marina's Regime Chapter 5 Trainee Troubles Right after she congratulated me for advancing from a novice rank to a trainee, Mistress Marina's phone app went dark again. I put my phone back into the charging stand on my bedside table. So I guess this is it. As usual, I had zero ability to affect when or if Marina might contact me again during the five day stretch until our Thursday night meeting was scheduled to happen. As always the ball remained in her court. I was alone, and feeling frustrated, confused, and extremely foolish. My life, it seemed, had turned upside down. I found the largest sweatshirt I owned in a drawer and put it on. It covered up my corset and extended just past my stocking tops. It obscured my lewd chastity for the time being. The New York Jets logo swapped a little modesty for the troubling sight of nipples poking out over my corseted middle. It was a good exchange. I started on my chores as my mind whirled and cogitated. There was still much I needed to digest from the past day's events. At this hour exactly one day ago I was entering the pub where the singles group gathered. I was just meeting the mysterious Marina S?nneberg for the first time. Only a day ago I was my own man. My will was my own. My body belonged to me. Now it appeared that none of that was true any longer. My body was now kept, constrained, owned by another. My penis was padlocked and would remain that way for 5 days. Tight shoes were now locked on my feet for the entire night, and they were precipitously tall ladies high heels at that. And finally a corset, the likes of which I had never imagined, was laced and locked onto me so tightly I could not move in any direction without careful planning. No more slouching or bending for me. Merely sitting down forced me to use a stool and keep an exaggeratedly erect posture. And yet throughout these difficulties and all of the bodily requirements Marina imposed on me, none of her bonds held me as abundantly as the way her mind did. All of the physical limitations I felt were only a faint reminder, a mere suggestion of my longing for her. Even as I faced my fear of being alone and being helpless while awaiting her next call, I was no more emasculated, nor petticoated, nor humiliated than she specifically wanted me to be. I felt almost like a newborn child. I had to figure out all of the basic tactics for living, and how to cope from one moment to the next. Just moving around in high heels, I found out, changed everything all by itself. After stumbling twice on my way to the toilet I learned to take shorter steps, make more deliberate turns. I tried to focus on how I held my back, my arms and my neck. Using the bathroom held fresh revelations as well. The chastity belt required me to sit down to pee, but the corset wouldn't let me rest on the commode. So I had to crouch in the air above the toilet and aim the pee as best I could. Then I found my ferocious shoes taking center stage. There is almost no way to hold still at an odd angle in tall heels. Needless to say a mopping-up was necessary. It was simply too much to take in. I couldn't suppose for a minute these weren't the exact troubles Mistress wanted me to be experiencing. She had designed my predicament after all. Perhaps she mapped out every mistake I would make, each fumble I might suffer. Was she enjoying my difficulty, my strict learning curve at this very moment? Was it arousing her? I couldn't say. But just wondering about that excited me to the core for some crazy reason. What in the world was she doing to me? If I imagined it was her arms compressing my torso, her smooth hands limiting my stride instead of the corsets and heels it took me into a new reverie of desire for Mistress. Her exotic mind had done all these things. She alone would grant me pleasure, or deny it. Such control should anger me or drive me away. Instead I was intoxicated. I was turned on. I went to the laundry room adjacent to my kitchen and took the bedsheets from my dryer, kneeling as carefully as I could. Ironing those sheets was not a tremendous ordeal, thank goodness. My heels lifted me higher above the ironing table than before, which turned out to be a slight benefit. Standing still as I ironed however was the tradeoff. It would take a lot of practice and soreness to learn how to simply stand still in those tricky shoes, as well as walk around with the confidence Mistress had specified. I ruminated on that as well. Hadn't she taken other boyfriends down this path? From her first remarks she called my attention to them, in words that made my cock stand straight up as she said them. In Marina's world men were continuously competing for her favor, yet she'd given me a special part to play. She knew my desires, my fetishes, all the things that turned me on. She anticipated all my questions and worries well ahead of me, or so it appeared. When I asked if she was using hypnosis techniques on me she kind of said no, but kind of said yes. She was evasive but it satisfied me all the same, because I hungered for her. And what are anyone's worries in the face of their desires? Desire wins every time. It's a foregone conclusion. But last night she delivered the goods. The intense pleasure she gave me, that crazy orgasm-within-an-orgasm she innocently called her "reward" for good behavior, it was all the proof I needed to know that my Mistress was for real. Whatever her rules were, I was ready to oblige her. Yet sadly, my new girlfriend was determined to crossdress me in this relationship, and not in idle or occasional ways. She was locking girly garments onto me for hours or days at a time. She had even asked me to participate in that process by adding on more hours still. What was this about, grooming me for a sex change? Or did she have still another goal? I had to snap out of my dark thoughts. My sheets were done. It was time to face the task of making my bed. The corset made it as difficult as I'd expected, but eventually the bed was straight and it was time to start dinner. I was famished and wanted something nicer than a frozen entree, but I was too tired to deal with cooking, plus my feet were starting to bother me. I settled for a lean cuisine, a slice of toast and a glass of merlot. Sitting down to eat at my kitchen dinette table was out of the question, so I stood up by the long countertop that windowed into my kitchen from the living room. I ate slowly, wondering how I'd get through all of it. Eating, sleeping, or going about any daily activity was likely to be a big mess. I was able to tune out the chastity belt without too much effort. It kept things offline down there all by itself. But the corset was much different. It affected everything I did minute to minute. My higher heels would at least come off for daytime, unless I was silly enough to add on more hours. In five days time the chastity lock would come off also. I could look forward to that. But Mistress made no mention of any days when I might skip wearing the infernal corset. Alas, hungry as I was I couldn't eat more than half my food. I supposed that the corset was dictating the size of my meal together with all the other ways it dominated me. Putting my food tray in the trash, I took my phone and half-full glass of wine with me to my bedroom, turning out lights along the way. What a strange 24 hours it had been. I hoped the next 24 would bring me some answers, or at least some useful clues. I had no interest in watching television or using the computer. Both those devices were in my living room, and either one would require me to remain at least partially standing. My poor feet needed some rest. It was barely 9 o'clock, hours earlier than I usually retired on a Saturday night, but I was done, exhausted from a crazy day. I trusted a good night's rest would get me sorted out. Then tomorrow I would decide if I'd chosen the right kind of girlfriend or not. No shower tonight, but that was ok, I had taken a long bath and shower earlier. I used the bathroom with better results and a smaller cleanup. I might resort to using a booster chair, or some kind of a stand-up toilet if my Mistress kept me looking like a girl from steampunk fiction. I brushed my teeth and studied my face in the mirror. The sweatshirt concealed my feminized upper body well. I saw no satin corsetry or incidental boobs. But something was still amiss. Then I noticed it - the skin on my face was absolutely smooth. I had no beard stubble at all. The hair removal bath had worked wonders on my skin. It was nice to know that if I used Marina's bath powders they would spare me the hassles of shaving my face. I planted my butt on the stool for a moment to sip my wine. My thoughts had turned to the remaining potency of Marina's business card. Two pieces of it still sat on my dresser where I tossed them before tumbling into my bed the previous night. If they had a bit more of that happy- juice left in them I could surely use some of it. The way Mistress spoke about it they could be hit or miss, but either way I was determined to find out. One thing I was certain of - locating my nipples with those cards should be easier than ever now, as free of hair as they were. Plus the corset held them right out there, erect and tingling, as if they couldn't wait for another dose of mistress-ink. I couldn't either. I finished my wine, put the glass on my dresser and removed my sweatshirt. I decided to hang it in my closet and wear it again tomorrow. It genuinely felt good on me, almost like a security blanket. I liked the way it covered my chastity and kept me from advertising the fact that I sort of had tits now. I laid a towel carefully across my bed. Then, carrying Marina's cards with me, I positioned my heavily-corseted self on the bed, flat on my back. I switched off my lamp and rested in the dark room for several minutes. My feet were already thanking me enthusiastically. My body felt like a wound-up watch spring, with little twitches of relief firing off as I relaxed. A muscle in my calf here, then one in my ankle there, next a tendon of my shoulder or back, each area let go in a steady succession. I told myself it would all be fine in the morning. Next I went to work getting my cards ready. I ladled a dab of saliva on each one, using my pinkies as Mistress showed me how to do. I placed the cards face-up on the front panels of my corset and began to stir my wet pinkies around at the centers of them. Suddenly I felt it as much as smelled it: Mistress Marina's perfume. The adoration and desire I held more or less continuously for her was magnified once again. Then it accelerated right off the scale. Last night, Mistress had me conduct this exercise while I stood tall in my living room. She coached me through it, ordering me to concentrate and focus. She divided up my energy that first time. She held me together and kept me from losing it. I could see that now. But here in a dark bedroom lying on my back I was alone, adrift on an ocean of feelings. My need for her felt much more acute, yet I hadn't even applied her cards to my nipples yet. Engulfed by these sensations and wants I pressed the cards tightly against me, mashing them again into my aching breasts. I was amazed by how it felt the first time, but that was nothing but a prelude to this moment. Perhaps Mistress deliberately undersold the dosage on my cards or didn't actually know. All I can say is this time it was thunder and lightning. It was storm and gale compared to last night's spring rains. I wasn't struggling to focus on Marina's soft voice and lips while trying not to fall. Tonight her vibrant lips surrounded me. Her arms held me tightly. Tonight her purposes guided me even as her love captured me and molded me into an object of her desire. I had only one desire anymore - to be hers. I couldn't say how long my bliss lasted. It could have been a moment, or a year. At some point, or at many points, I came. Then I drifted off to the faraway reaches of sleep. Marina's Regime Chapter 6 Fresh Challenges I heard a tiny melodic chirping sound. Seconds later, two more chirps. Gradually I woke up with my body feeling tightly compressed, lying sideways in bed under a tangle of sheets. It was dark in my room, an early predawn hour. Then I began to remember where I was, how I came to be so thoroughly dressed and so securely locked up. I felt a panic. I forgot to set my alarm as Mistress had told me to do. If I fouled up my schedule it would cost me dearly. I continued forcing myself to wake up and clear my mind. What was it I needed to do? I turned on my bedside lamp, two more beeps sounding off. The telephone at my bedside showed it was 5:04 AM on a Sunday morning. "That's right," I managed to say. "Take my shower. Relock the corset shackle for a new day. And thank goodness I'll be able to take these heels off." But I was lagging several precious minutes behind. Remaining on my back, I kicked the covers off of me and lifted my legs up in front. Those yellow padlocks that governed my high heels appeared to still be locked, but as I pulled on them I noticed they opened up easily. Apparently when the preset release times arrived my locks wouldn't pop open by themselves. But if I pulled firmly they were allowed to unlatch. I got the shoe-lock straps undone quickly and slipped out of the heels and thigh-highs. I then rubbed my feet, especially the arches. My toes felt so good to be free again after ten hours of being stuck in those tight shoes. Next, I reached down to the blue lock holding my corset shackle closed at the center of my stomach. It snapped open the same easy way. I turned my body to one side and pulled the steel ribbon away from me and the corset. The shackle rolled itself back up as I nudged it aside. Then I was able to access my corset laces and unknot them, loosening them up as quickly as I could. Oh my goodness, what a glorious relief it was to get that vise-like thing off of me after wearing it for 11 oppressive hours. My first order of business was to jump in the shower. Piping hot water pounded me while I shampooed and scrubbed my body. I massaged at the marks the corset had made on my tummy and sides. My skin seemed extra sensitive everywhere, but the shower felt superb. My nipples were sore, no doubt from the mashing they took the past two nights, but soap and hot water revived them as well. My chastity belt was the only item still locked on me at the moment, and I was surprised that it wasn't bothering me too very much. It must have been an ideal fit. I recalled the previous night that my cock and balls had felt pain when I was enjoying Mistress Marina's magic ink. But it wasn't a bad hurt. It was like when your girlfriend squeezes too hard while she's giving you a hand job. But you don't care one bit because the orgasm feels so incredibly good. I soaped up my chastity belt, working suds into its holes and around the ball ring. I wanted to prevent any funky smell down there. As I got out of the shower it was nearly 5:30 and I felt truly invigorated. I rubbed the lotion onto my chest, sides and back again - everywhere the corset contacted me or was near to. The warm sensation it created was highly noticeable on my chest, which felt more sensitive than ever and ticklish too. Marina's ink seemed to be turning my breasts into a pronounced erogenous zone. I supposed if one's penis is stuck in a chastity belt for almost a week it is nice if other parts of your body can step up and be alternate sources of pleasure. Next it was time to get the dreaded corset back on. I had barely 20 minutes left to tighten it completely and secure the shackle. I would have loved to take a minute to fix coffee and a bite of food, but I had no time for anything except to re-corset myself by 6 AM. My Mistress had planned it too perfectly and I didn't dare miss her deadline. I began a steady rhythm of pulling on laces, taking small gulps of air and pulling them again. My shackle was ready to be reconnected at about 3 minutes until 6:00 AM. I would have breathed a sigh of relief if my corset would allow me to. In any case I was keeping on schedule. I looped the black padlock into the shackle's hasp and let it sit there for two minutes, until the stroke of six. I used this time to weigh the importance of the moment. This was my first time to use this lock. Black padlocks lasted 23 hours, so it couldn't come off until 5 AM tomorrow, and for how many more mornings after that I couldn't say. I didn't want to dwell on that too much. I pushed the lock shut, resigned to my fate for one more day at least. I needed Marina to be satisfied with my efforts. I wanted her to reward me for them, and for us to be together. If it meant my putting up with some foolishness for a while I was strong enough to do that. If her reward stops being sweeter than my discomfort I will hop off this merry-go- round. I heard my phone sound off from the nightstand. It was Marina's special text-chirp. No pic came, but just her words made me smile. I yearned for her scent, even at this early hour. Darling tommie, I am proud of you! You are never afraid to look beautiful just for me. Your willingness to complete your challenges pleases me. Expect a lovely surprise later today! This message had a different response button for me to click on. Instead of the simple "Yes" button I had been provided with before, this one said, "Yes Mistress, thank you." What could she have meant by a "lovely surprise"? It sounded pretty damn good to me. Perhaps I had enough points for an early release from chastity, or a fresh set of her juicy little cards. Or maybe she would let us meet up for a dinner date like ordinary couples do. I thought about that for awhile. Why couldn't her text be a programmed response that was triggered by my timely actions, based on her abilities to track the lock I had just engaged? And if correct, that would not be a problem for me. It made sense for her not to hover over her phone every moment, waiting for me to do certain things. But what would that mean? Would she respond again if I went ahead and locked those high-heels to my feet for some extra hours of credit as she suggested? She clearly wanted me to do that. And my Sunday was looking fairly free, with no shopping to do. I thought about it for awhile. Wearing heels all day long would undoubtedly hurt a little, but if it tickled her fancy, why not? I could think of worse things than getting more texts from her congratulating me on being a good sport. I entered the closet to fetch my trusty sweatshirt and pulled it onto me again. Next I placed myself on my stool. I wanted to put the stockings and heels on there instead of kneeling at my bedside as I did on the previous evening. It was awkward work due to the strictness of my corset, whether on a stool or the floor. Ironically it felt more natural to don these ladies' garments while seated, all the while wearing my manly shape-disguising football shirt. I considered putting on some jockey shorts and jeans, but that hardly made any sense. I was covered up for the most part, and it was just me here at home. On top of that I worried that the tight shorts and pants I had would exert pressure on my chastity, most notably the heavy ball- ring. As uncomfortable as my corset and heels were proving to be I'd rather not add on more layers of restriction or pain if I could help it, at least not yet. From my perch on the stool I began to slip my day-bonus items on, first the stockings, then the high heels, then the locking shoe-straps, all from their little pile on the bed. When I was ready to lock the shoes on it dawned on me. What if I simply reused the yellow locks? Ten hours would last from 6:30 AM, which it was about to be, right up until 4:30 PM. It might be tough to deal with that, but how much would Mistress like for me to do it? What would she say? I planned on going for just 3 or 5 hours but the little yellow locks were beckoning me. I felt kind of crazy for even thinking it. Good grief, I hadn't even made myself breakfast yet, and there was a lot of cleaning I meant to finish today in my apartment. Using those yellow locks would insure that my feet would get barely two and a half hours of free time between 4:30 and 7:00 PM. Then the heels had to be locked on me again for the night. I reminded myself that if my feet bothered me too much I could always just prop them up for a while. I also promised myself if wearing the shoes all day sucked too much I'd never do it again. "All right, let's do this," I said aloud as I pressed home the four yellow locks that held my shoe straps in place, "Mistress Marina, I am doing this for you." Feeling curiously proud of myself while at the same time completely ridiculous, I stood stiffly and carefully started to move toward the kitchen, phone in hand, determined to cook a tasty breakfast. Love can make a guy do stupid things, like imagining for one instant I just improved my chances. My meal preparation this time was more industrious than the efforts of the previous night. I actually cooked some bacon and fried an egg, and brewed some coffee to go with it. Then I stood at my pass-thru countertop to eat. I managed to eat most of it before the corset told me to stop. I decided that if I was going to be in my heels, moving around on them was no harder than trying to stand still. So after I washed up the few dishes I used I told myself to get busy. I mopped the kitchen floor, the entry hall and laundry room. Next I put away the last few boxes of my kitchen items and books that were left over from moving in. After I finished dusting the entire apartment my carpets needed to be vacuumed once again. As I finished up, I was exhausted and my feet were not happy. I was beginning to regret going for all my extra heel wearing time. After all, what was the point? I hadn't heard back from Mistress about that yet. For all I knew it wasn't going to convince her I was the better boyfriend. Maybe she would see me as too spineless or girlish now, and less deserving of respect than before. I knew this was only my insecurity talking so I put it out of my mind. I dedicated myself to making up the bed. After completing that I realized it was past noon and I hadn't taken a break since finishing breakfast. I needed some lunch and also to rest my body for awhile, or my sore toes and corsetted back might never forgive me. I made a sandwich and grabbed an apple and a diet Dr. Pepper and went to my bedroom, ready to nibble my food and lie on the bed with my head and shoulders propped up. As soon as I was reclined on the bed with my sandwich and drink in easy reach, my phone suddenly went off again with Mistress Marina's text notification. I had my phone beside me too, so all I had to do was take the phone from the night stand to start reading her note. My darling, darling tommie, You cannot know how delighted you have made me. So I will try to say exactly how much. Whenever I am engaged in new boyfriend training I remain at or near an absolute peak of pleasure. When my trainee decides for my enjoyment alone to accept uncomfortable and humiliating adornments for additional hours, and quite voluntarily, that sends me to higher orbits of ecstasy, especially on his very first occasion, the first of many repetitions I always hope. If, like you, he selects the highest number of hours available, I can only say that my orgasm is as delicious as it can ever be. I will bonus you well for such sweet servitude! It is for this reason also I am going to accelerate your program. No candidate I can recall has shown the promise that you have. I should not consider hindering your progress nor the possible record-setting ability you possess. I will help you reach your peak ranking in the shortest time my dear. Therefore, you will receive 3 new boxes today, instead of one. Yes my pet, you will get 3 lovely surprises instead of the single package I was sending. I will not tell you the exact hour, but it will arrive today. It will include advanced instructions, along with plenty of the perfume that helps you focus, my scent you adore so much. Your Loving Mistress Marina So I had reached her! Apparently I had spoken right to Mistress' heart by selecting 10-hour padlocks for relocking my shoes. I loved the fact that I'd given her a terrific orgasm. What a relief to know she still approved of me, after I battled apprehensions and worried about my standing with her. It didn't bother me at all anymore that I had taken on added fatigue and soreness in support of her fantasy. She had loved it, and she was sending me surprises! Then it hit me. I didn't know when her package would arrive. But when it did I would be wearing 6" heels and a corset, and jingling six padlocks from my body as I signed for it.