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Marina's Regime by Aken Chapter 10 Elective Penitence Box #3 contained a female doll-mask made of smooth porcelain with lovely hyper-realistic feminine details. Vivid ladylike colors adorned its eyes, lips and cheeks. It was something I would expect to see in an art gallery or in the collections of people who love to display their treasured female fetish masks on their walls. Except this mask was so very different. This mask had no eye-openings as masks often do. This mask locked onto a wearer's head, while a prominent pink phallus pointed inward from the mask's mildly-smirking crimson lips. Wearers of this mask would be forced to lock a penis-shaped dildo deep inside their mouth. "You must be joking!" I cried aloud, as tears formed, "Mistress, why? I have done everything you wanted me to do. To earn your rewards I dressed myself up like the slutty kind of girl you want your boyfriends to look like. But this? It must be a mistake, because in no way am I gay. Mistress, I want women and only women! Most of all I especially want you, Mistress. I'll try to look like a girl if you want me to. I will do that if it pleases you. But something like this? To put a cock in my mouth and suck it like a girl would do? There is no way I can do that!" I realized I was shouting like a lunatic into the wind, and to no one in particular. But it was all I could manage. I couldn't talk directly to Marina. I didn't know how else to express my anxiety. It was a struggle just to breathe in my tight neck restraint. But the mockery I felt just viewing this mask magnified my choking sensations. I felt wetness hitting my cheeks. There was no way I could handle this. I was afraid of what it would mean for us. It was beyond discomfort or shame. It felt like total rejection. Even in its tight steel confines my cock was still a cock. As diminished as I felt in stockings, heels, bra and corset, my penis was still the only one in the room up until now - until this alluring, outrageously cruel mask arrived. Her warning me that this would be the hardest challenge for a boyfriend was not a lie. How many of her boyfriends ended everything right here? How many of them broke it off after seeing her fellatio mask? It was an awful gut punch, until I remembered something. She said there was no deadline for doing this. It was not compulsory like her other tasks were. What did that mean for me? It meant I would have to want it. She said her boyfriends had to schedule this in their own way, putting her mask on a to-do list of things Mistress desired but didn't demand. And that would still please her. Wearing the mask would be terribly insulting and problematical. She actually understood that, so she was willing to wait for us to proceed all in our own good time. 'Sure, good luck with that.' Picking up her letter lying under the mask, I began to read slowly: My dearest darling tommie, I know how you must be feeling this minute. I have seen the shock and the fear, the wounded disappointment on so many of my boyfriend's faces. They do not like this one bit, the idea of wearing the sissy-mask, even if it happens to be one of my favorite fantasies come true. They are offended on so many levels, as I am sure you are at this very moment. And I am so sorry for that, my darling. But this is one of those moments each of us comes to in our love affair. It is a moment of not just one truth, but of a great many truths. Now, let me give you a little bit of background so that it may help you get through your difficult choices. First of all not all of my boyfriends remain so after I send them their very first sissy- mask. Some of them take all my darling feminine decorations off their bodies and use their lone message to tell me they will no longer serve me. How many of them actually do this? You may be surprised to know it is very few indeed. That is right. Big or small, dark or light, manly men or pretty men, all of the men I choose - each as heterosexual and straight as you are, my dear one - hardly ever will one of them leave me. The few who do would come back to me in a heartbeat, but of course they never can. Still, vanishingly few run away for I assure them just as I promise you now that there is nothing gay about wearing your sissy-mask. If wearing it were at all gay then I would never want this from any of you. It is because of the kind of woman I am you see. I desire only the very straightest kind of male that exists. That desire and craving he feels for me is what I need, and nothing from a gay man could ever hope to satisfy that part of me. And so I select only a man who is attuned to want a woman just as you do, tommie dear. You know exactly who you are wired to serve. You are built to love and to bond with, and to worship a female. Yes darling, that female is me. By now you must know this as well as you know anything. To move forward you must see the cock in your mask as belonging to no one but your Mistress. Now that said, of all my many boyfriends who stay and comply with their sissy-masks, each one takes it at his own pace. Some don their mask occasionally, only now and again. Others adjust to it quite well. It is just a matter of what they can or cannot accomplish for me, of how ardently they wish to serve me. So I do not judge. Boyfriends are all unique when it comes to the sissy-mask, as they are in everything else. But the fact remains - in order to reach your next full level of training mastering the mask is an essential hurdle. Some will remain sissy trainees from here on out. But others, like you I hope, will choose to move past fear and let love and submission overcome outmoded ideas of what sex and gender are meant to be. How far ahead you move or how quickly is always an individual thing. As you know I think you have exciting capabilities, tommie. I think you have a shot at breaking all the new- submissive records, not just for me but for all of the dominant women I know who live as I prefer to live. But keep this in mind. When you raise your sissy-mask proficiency to the level I dream about your titles will change in all of my communications to you. I will announce you not as a he but as a she. I will designate your actions, duties and possessions as being hers, not his. This is not meant as a demotion or a slur. Quite the opposite! It will be an honor and a reward for me to congratulate my sweet sissy girl who used to be merely a boy, a 'girl' who completes tasks for me that a weaker and less devoted person could never attempt. My darling sissy girls are never gay. They are strong in service to me, their 100% heterosexual lover and Queen. As you already know there is no mask schedule to follow. However, there are several very strict guidelines. First, no mask wear begins after dark. It is not for night-wear or sleeping. Second, initial usage will involve the pink lock I included in your shipment today. That is a special 1-hour lock. I recommend you try it out at some point in the next few days and see how it goes for you. Your dildo may be difficult the first time, but not terrible. I will of course tell you in explicit detail how much I enjoy it. I invite you to imagine your sissy mask as my lover who comes to me in his ardor. You will make that rapture possible whenever the mask is locked onto your face. With that penis-shaped plug pressed all the way into your throat, my lover climbs aboard me and gives me the ride of my life. This is the gift you will be giving me each time you ride the sissy mask. Keep that in mind, my darling, as you hone your skills in service to my lustful fantasies. Your initial goal is 7 locked sessions in the mask during any single week, the equivalent of one session per day for 7 consecutive days. But a man could log them all in three or four days if he is determined. However or whenever you earn 7 pink lockups in a week I will give you a joyful reward as we toast your achievement. Then I will announce your next goal, which will bring your ranking all the way up to an Aspirant. Along with the challenge in box #3 is a real treat: a new bag full of makeup for you to play with. When my sissies acclimate to the mask they often develop a feeling of being naked without it. If that idea comes your way the best answer is to use makeup, so your unadorned face may at least look more like your masked face. I am equipping you with my favorite brands, using the ideal colors just for you. They offer a high quality and a long-lasting wear. I make no demands for use of the lovely makeup, but it invariably improves a trainee's experience and progress. It also represents the kind of thing I enjoy as I prepare him for his new titles and responsibilities. Most important of all, there is an envelope with something in it that I rarely give to a boyfriend so new as you. It contains a small square of paper called an ink wafer. Yes lover, a wafer has some of the delightfully sexy substance you discovered on my business cards the other night. That ink is what gave you one, or perhaps even two hands-free orgasms recently. This wafer carries a gentler dosage, equal to about one-half of one reward a boyfriend will receive during a celebratory weekly meeting. These half-patches work like magic for men with sissy mask conditioning. The procedure is this: you lube the mask up really well with your mouth, as you should always do before putting it on. Initially you should spend 3 to 5 minutes of licking and sucking on it with utmost devotion. Remember it is me you are truly servicing and pleasing, not some naughty appliance from an adult store. Then, just before you press it inside all the way and lock it take the ink wafer and rub it around all the drippy-wet places you made. Now while you ride the mask you will actually receive a significant reward from me at the same time. Darling, you must not expect this to happen hardly ever again. I am doing something special today, just to get your mask training started. As sissy-mask training proceeds you must focus on how incredibly horny I will feel the instant a pink lock is being clicked shut! Of course when it is you offer this pleasure to me or how often is your choice. Oh how I look forward to this exciting new chapter of your journey and the joy it shall bring me! Rest well my sweetling, Your loving Mistress M Of all the letters Mistress had written to me over the past two days, none compared to this one. None of them had a more profound effect on my emotions. I started reading it with eyes full of tears, grieving over what seemed to be my only option: saying goodbye to Mistress or becoming gay for her. But her letter completely redefined our situation. She managed to turn my fears around. Not that I was any happier about deep throating a dildo-mask mind you, but thanks to her letter I wasn't as terrified as before. At last I had a little understanding of what Mistress was trying to do and why. So powerful was her adoration of straight males that she needed to dress them up as sultry women. In some unexpected way this supplemented her desire for men while it amplified her control. Men willing to submit to her test could prove a devotion to her at the deepest level. Granted I couldn't make sense of it, but if she needed it and her joy would somehow be reciprocated to me, I may at least try to satisfy her craving. I needed a drink badly, so I carried my phone and the box with the mask to my kitchen and poured myself a small glass of merlot. I sipped on it slowly, looking at the open box on my counter. The doll's face seemed to return my stare. Marina's note in the box was filling the room with her seductive essence. I closed my eyes and breathed it in, asking myself what I should do. How could a simple fragrance be so powerful I wondered. Then I had the funniest idea. What if I tried on her mask the very day it arrived? If I put it on now wouldn't it blow my Mistress away? Or would she wonder if I was too quick to agree to it, and if so a little bit too gay? Truly I did not want to do it, but what if I could actually set a new training record for her, would I graduate? Would I become Mistress' top boyfriend? So the logic of this kept coming back to the idea that if I was going to attempt this at all I must not wait around for 3 or 4 days or something. I should take advantage of the possibility she said I had. Glancing at my clock I noticed it was 7:23, and it occurred to me that being late august in New York sunset would not arrive until 7:50 tonight. In theory I still had about 25 minutes of time left to decide to give my Mistress an hour of virtual sex if I consented to face-fucking myself with her crazy mask. How nutty was that? No nuttier, it turns out, than the fact that I actually considered doing it. I picked up the mask and examined its inward-facing cock. I felt of its girth and length. It was appreciably bigger than my own erection. The mask sported a good 6-incher I thought, if not a bit more. But its width was what impressed me, a much thicker tool than my own. The deep ridge behind its head and the veins along its shaft were highly pronounced too. I actually felt a stab of envy about it. Then I worried about my gag reflex. How would I be able to manage that with the thing locked upon my face? I assumed I must have a gag reflex in there somewhere, although I couldn't recall ever triggering it before. Even if I didn't gag, it couldn't feel good for something to be jamming into the back of my throat for an hour. And that would only be made worse by a tight leather collar that gave me a slight choking sensation all by itself. A few minutes ticked by while I tried to balance my fears of being able to survive this ordeal against my desires to gratify and impress my Mistress. "Enough of the hypotheticals," I said at last, "You will never know if you can do this for her until you get your mouth around it." All Mistress would know was if her pink lock got closed, right? So... why not experiment all I needed to beforehand - giving up along the way wouldn't cost me anything. I touched the dildo lightly to my lips and wetted the knob with my tongue. "Ok, that wasn't so horrible," I thought. After I made it moderately wet I tried fitting the head all the way in. I had to spread my jaws for that, but it wasn't a real problem. 'No trouble so far, except for feeling like a total idiot.' Next, it was time to polish the shaft in the worshipful way Mistress asked me to do. She wanted me to visualize it as her own juicy cock, so I focused on that to help me feel better. I hadn't forgotten that if the little ink wafer she sent provided me a rush similar to last time, it ought to make this job even easier still. I continued to lick up and down for the minutes she recommended. And then it was like a light switch just clicked on inside me. "Sure," I said, "Why the hell not?" I finished off the wine in my glass, took my phone and put it safely into the charging stand across from my counter-top. I reached into the box for the envelope that held her ink patch inside of it. I withdrew a tiny square of paper. It was as light as a feather in my hand, yet so precious. All I was missing now was a little pink lock from the velvet bag in box #1. I set the mask down and walked to my bedroom to fetch the lock hearing the seductive clacks of my heels striking the floors of my hallway. I listened to the furtive hisses of my silk nylons and teddy. 'Are those the sounds Mistress wants me to make when I walk around my home?' "Yes, they are." I said to myself 'Am I retrieving the lock that will guarantee sweet pleasures for her?' "I certainly am," I replied. 'Is this about the craziest thing I have ever done?' I mused. "Without a doubt," I answered aloud, "But I'm in love with her. Not being crazy isn't an option." Marina's Regime Chapter 11 Deeper Destinations Returning to my living room with the pink lock in my hand I could hardly believe what I was preparing to do: lock Mistress Marina's painted porcelain sissy-mask on my face for one full hour. The mask with the beautifully articulated feminine features from arching eyebrows and soft eyelashes to the upturned nose and shiny runway-model lips would soon deprive me of my vision for that hour, while a sizable dildo inside the mask denied me of any speech. Picking up the sissy-mask I again felt an urge to put this off for a day. Why not wait until I was sure it was safe, or until I was certain I could handle the humiliation it would surely bring me? But at the same time I knew that would only be stalling. No matter if I delayed this for hours or days I would never gather any more courage than I currently held. Instead, I would forfeit my chance to do two things: set a new record for Mistress' boyfriend-training program, and take her to an unprecedented plateau of pleasure by submitting so readily to her bizarre wishes. The penis-shaped plug in the mask was generously wet from the fluffing I had given it earlier. The time was 7:38 PM. I had at most 10 minutes of daylight to get this session started. I was determined to do it and not miss a golden opportunity to show my respect for Mistress and honor her deeply-held fantasy. Besides, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else until I wore the mask for her. I took the ink patch from the counter-top and stroked it up and down the dildo as Mistress instructed, spreading the ink all around the head and shaft. Instantly, I felt the powerful impact of Mistress' scent. Her presence was with me again, comforting me and cajoling me to open my mouth wide for Mistress' dick. And so I did, pushing it in as far as my oral cavity would allow. I was amazed to watch all but an inch or two of it slide in me with no difficulty. The final portion of cock was being a bit more stubborn. As the spongy rubber head nudged the back of my throat I detected a fair amount of air flowing through the pee-hole of the dildo. Together with the wide-open nostrils of my mask it was a relief to know I would still get plenty of oxygen. Pursing my lips over the dildo I leaned against it more firmly. Fortunately I sensed no panic. There was just that familiar euphoria of my past two nights starting to return. Mistress' ink was working its wiles on me again. But there was no delirium of sensation this time with the exhaustion at the end. Instead, I had the warmest sense of well-being welded to a baseline of erotic zeal that kept me feeling both horny and safe. I was able to focus my energy on this strange task, having already accepted Mistress Marina's incredibly dominant vision. Fused onto each cheek of my mask was a one-inch-wide porcelain-colored strap. As I slid the mask on, these flexible straps went under my ears to connect at the back of my head using a metal hasp they shared just above my posture collar. A third flexible strap, narrower by nearly half, extended above the forehead of the mask. This strap curved around the top of my head, parting my hair invisibly along the way. All three straps were meant to link on the same hasp. Feeling behind my head with one hand I could tell that at least one inch remained before the straps would join up. With my other hand I gently rotated the mask's face onto my own face. Working my lips over the final inch of mask-meat, I urged it into me at a pace that my throat had no easy way to resist. I could feel the chin of the mask cupping over my own chin as the three straps drew closer by tiny degrees. No more than a few moments had elapsed since I began this process, but I was now certain I could complete it. If I could accept this much of Mistress' cock and avoid choking surely I could cope with the last bit of it for my Queen. Suddenly I felt her mask resting against my face. The smooth porcelain finish felt cooling on both my cheeks. That coolness caressed my lips and chin too. It embraced my forehead and nose. Her mask essentially replaced my face, meeting up with each curve and crease of me, fitting me so exactly I forgot to notice that the fearsome plug had gone in all the way. Whether it was from an eagerness to please my Goddess or a newfound ability her perfumes and inks provided me I couldn't say, but somehow I succeeded and it wasn't actually so hard. I felt my eyelashes flitting against the concaves inside my sissy-eyes yet I saw only darkness there. I wasn't afraid at all. I wasn't gagging either. In fact, I couldn't recall being quite so turned on. The three straps overlapped just enough to be joined together by the padlock and I knew better than to wait a single minute longer. I carefully felt for the pink lock that I parked near the edge of my countertop. Finding it, I held it behind my head and looped it through my mask's single locking hasp. Then I squeezed the lock firmly shut. 'Oh. My God. I have actually done it.' What would my Mistress think now I wondered. If I was this excited in the moment and if she was half as stimulated by my predicament as she confessed to me in her letter, then together our experience had to be one of the most incredible remote encounters of them all. I couldn't see my clock to know when I locked the mask but I guessed it was 7:45, or about 5 minutes until sundown. I had first set eyes on the mask less than one hour before that - it was nearly beyond belief that I could press through all of my insecurities and fears, and in such a short time understand how much Mistress valued masks as a way to form intense bonds with her boyfriends. Somehow, in 30-some minutes I managed to do this for her, to lock the thing on me and embark on my first journey with Mistress to the place of mutual bliss she so loved. I soon began to wonder if I shouldn't lay down before I tripped and fell. Sitting would not be an option in my corset and bra, and my collar wouldn't allow me to do anything but hold my neck stiff and straight. Plus with the mask on my face I had to lift my chin even higher to keep the choking sensations at bay. What a ridiculous sight I must have made standing there in my apartment, arms akimbo, so thoroughly petticoated and padlocked, so helplessly masked. "Oh my goodness, my darling tommie!" I heard Mistress' voice purring softly nearby. "You look oh-so ravishing and perfect in your sissy-mask tonight!" It was Marina's voice, right in the room with me! I swiveled around mutely, nearly stumbling on my heels. It was nothing but instinct, since I couldn't look around the room or see anything. I was but a sightless, wordless bimbo. 'Where is she? How can she be here?' Then I heard a giggle. It wasn't a cruel sound, just a melodic ripple of laughter coming from my dominatrix. "Do not fret, my pet. I am assessing you via my phone app. When I realized your pink lock was engaged it filled me with so much delight I just had to look in on you. Sweetheart, I can see how beautiful you are now and so submissive to me. I am so happy for you, my dear." I held out my hands to her since I didn't know anything else to do. I could've probably made a garbled noise with my mouth, but it would only sound stupid and frightening to us both. I had a feeling she checked in to be sure I was ok. And if so this further melted my heart for her. "Yes dear, I hope you do not mind. The first time my boyfriend masks himself for me I like to give him some valuable instructions. First of all as you know a masked session can only be started during daytime, so I applaud you for succeeding just before your day ended. It must have taken so much courage and dedication to me to attempt that. Just so you know darling, you took your first sissy-mask ride 7 full days earlier than any other boyfriend ever has!" I was anxious to know if I'd set a record by today's efforts. She saved me from using up a question by asking. I made clapping motions with my hands and left them clasped together. "Oh how adorable you are, tommie!" she exclaimed. "I love your enthusiasm as much as I love the picture-perfect way you look for me right now. As you are off to such a super start I should explain right away how I like my sissies to behave whenever they ride their mask for me. I want them to stay busy! You may not think you can accomplish much work in a mask at first, but there are a number of simple jobs you can still do without seeing and in spite of the limited motions you have from those pretty things you wear. By moving around with a lot of care and grace you can do plenty of cleaning and straightening up. With focused effort it will be possible to do routine tasks like laundry or washing and putting away dishes. Many of my sissies can dust and vacuum and scrub their floors, or polish the furniture and woodwork." "In any case I want you to improvise. Try to think of valuable chores to tackle for me while you are masked. It helps you pass the time, but more importantly you come to think of your hours in the sissy-mask as just another normal part of any busy day, and that benefits your training immensely. Plus I have to confess it absolutely knocks my lust-meter to cloud nine to look in on my sissy slut with his sexy mask so firmly locked on, and see him tottering around in his charming high heels, arms outstretched, beautifully and silently tidying up his home." I couldn't understand how her words were doing it but they thrilled me nearly to the point of coming. Was this her infernal ink perhaps, or was it the surprise of hearing her silken voice again after two difficult days? I longed to see her beautiful face too, but her voice was more than enough for now. Her words managed to soothe me even in my awkward, humiliatingly compromised circumstances. I wanted to express myself but by her clear design could not. For a lack of anything else, I held my clasped hands to my chest and nodded vigorously. "My precious puppet!" she said sweetly, "I adore how you tried to speak to me in universal language. But do not take the wrong impression from my visit. I will hardly ever do as I did today. Most of the time when I swing by I say nothing at all. You will not know I came, as I do not want you to be distracted from your work and become self-conscious. If anything, by my silence you will know that I am gratified by your incremental progress, that you are still on track for your next planned meeting, review and possible chastisement or reward." "Darling, do you realize with this head-start of yours you could reach your 7-hour objective in the mask in well under a week? If you do it by Saturday this will put your lead at fourteen days ahead of my last record-holder. Just the thought of it gets my motor running so hot I may need to call in a servitor to satisfy me, instead of solo-masturbating as I planned." "In the meantime I need to leave you with a few more helpful instructions. When I have things to ask you about and you are properly silenced in your mask, there is a language you will use for making responses, just the most basic answers of course which is all your Queen needs." "The word for 'yes' is to stand with feet tightly together, both arms held high at an outward angle, palms up and flat pointing outward. Imagine that your body is a capital letter Y. 'Yes,' as you might guess is my favorite response. So make it fast and crisp with legs straight and chest well forward, arching your back enthusiastically. Imagine that your breasts are on the masthead of a beautiful ship proudly sailing the sea. Tell me dear, do you understand?" I threw my arms high into the air and tried to push my breasts outward. "Not bad. But go taller with legs straighter. Keep those feet together. Chin up. Be stiff as a board like in a military parade. Now tell me, do you want to obey your mistress always?" I tightened up my legs and pulled my feet closer together. I lunged my arms skyward. "Better. But watch those hands! Make them into hard, flat serifs. You are saluting a commanding officer. Make your body smile for her. Will you follow my orders?" I answered again, angling my hands, hoping I wouldn't lose my balance and fall. "Not there yet. Push those titties out! Do you love being my pretty sissy-maid?" I saluted her once more, taller, straighter. I pressed my chest out as far as possible. "I see a slight improvement. You need to practice that as often as you can. The next one will be the 'no' response. Whenever you say 'no' it must show all of the energy and cheerfulness as 'yes' does. This pose is exactly the same except for the arms. Here, you point your arms backward and down as stiff and straight as you can with the same hard flat palms. Darling, do you ever want to attend a weekly meeting where I punish you instead of rewarding you?" I gave her a salute for 'no' - pointing my arms down and back as enthusiastically as I could. "OK for a first try, but you forgot to keep your legs hard and straight enough. Would you ever want me to stop training you properly, and allow you to become a sloppy submissive?" I jumped into the "no" pose again, clamping my legs closer and straighter. I'd broken into a sweat. I couldn't believe how excited her stern orders were making me feel. My penis was straining pointlessly in its steel cage. My balls hurt too, but I was so excited it didn't matter, because everything Mistress was saying and doing to me served to arouse me all the more. Meanwhile my breasts ached and tingled in the delicious way they did when an ink-saturated card was jamming into them. It was similar to the urgent, ticklish sensations I now felt in my mouth all around my tongue and lips. I feared that it might provoke me to a quaking orgasm. "Perhaps that was better," she said, "As you practice, remember to maintain correct posture in your hands. We want hard right angles at the wrists and no air gaps between fingers. Yes?" I responded with a 'yes' pose as well as I could strike it. There was a momentary pause from her. If she approved of my response she did it silently. Somehow this only made me hornier. "Now, there are three more gestures that each require the legs to bend slightly at the knees, but the back remains arched, and the feet stay close together, just like in 'yes' or 'no' poses. First is your 'I thank you' pose, then the 'I am sorry' pose, and lastly the 'I honor you' pose." "I will not drill you in those today, so I will describe them to you and you will practice on your own. In our Tuesday meeting I expect you to show me your listening skills. The 'I thank you' pose has the palms pressed together prayerfully under the chin as your head bows humbly." "The 'I am sorry' pose has all the body attributes as the 'I thank you' pose except that the hands are flattened and held side-by-side over your sissy-mask, as if to cover your face in shame. Last up is the 'I honor you' pose. It has the same tight feet, bent knees and back arch as the previous two, except 'I honor you' does not keep the head bowed. Here your face looks directly forward. Your palms stay open and flat, side-by- side facing the sky. Your hands are held along the same plane as your chin out in front, and your elbows will be out in front of you also, as closely together as they can go. The impression the 'I honor you' pose creates is that your hands offer an imaginary gift or tribute to your Mistress. For many it resembles blowing a kiss. This pose is how you will greet your Mistress whenever you first hear her voice while you are masked, and also whenever Mistress tells you goodbye. Unless you are greeting her or saying goodbye you may use a silent sissy pose only when Mistress asks you a specific question. Spontaneous use of a silent sissy response will surely bring you punishment." "Do you understand your poses well enough to practice them on your own, sweetheart?" I leapt into a 'yes' stance with my very best effort. I heard Mistress sigh ever so softly. "Dearest, I must leave now," she said at last, "Keep in mind how very pleased I am by your progress. And remember to practice each of your sissy responses by cycling through them ten or more times right after you lock on your sissy-mask and before you begin your cleanup detail. Try to improve yourself with every session. You never know, I may be watching you." "Pleasant dreams, tommie dear. Goodnight!" Then her app went dark again, or so I had to assume. Marina's Regime Chapter 12 Tacit Commitments Returning to my senses I suddenly remembered that Mistress told me the 'I honor you' pose was required whenever she told us goodbye. I hadn't practiced it yet but suspected I should try anyway. Bending my knees slightly, I arched my back as best I could, with my hands side-by-side in front of my face, my elbows in front, as close to touching as possible. I imagined I was blowing a kiss to her across the hands in front of my chin. Just keeping my head level in front was very challenging. The combination of the collar and dildo-gag made me desperate to tilt my chin back upward again. I forced myself to hold the pose for a few anguished seconds. I realized now that unlike the 'yes' and 'no' poses, each of the three added responses were punishments all by themselves. "I thank you" and 'I am sorry' were undoubtedly the worst, for they forced me to bow my head, imposing a moment of near self-strangulation. But owing to the neck restraint and gag I wore, even looking forward to say 'I honor you' felt awful too. Since reading her last letter I had wondered what those new responsibilities were going to be. After congratulating me for becoming a trainee it seemed to me that those new privileges she gushed about - the extra question I got to ask her, and a once-a-week text I got to send - might have cost me something far less fun - a responsibility that amounts to a hardship. The sissy-mask was a major hardship all by itself. And I wasn't sure if choosing my own time to wear it wasn't meaner than being told to do it. Then there was her rule that I should be toiling away at menial jobs whenever I was masked. And on top of that I had to engage in an odd mute-person language she had devised. I needed to practice to be fluent in that language and soon, or face punishment. All but two of the poses were painful in their own right, and all five of them were, I had to admit, a study in abject humiliation. 'Who on earth dreams up crazy things like that?' 'Moreover, how can it be that I am so titillated by this, still excited beyond description?' Oddly enough, none of those worrisome questions could be allowed to distract me, for I had a portion of time left in my mask and she had ordered me to get some kind of work done before a small pink padlock told me my first hour of service in the sissy-mask had been completed. I pivoted myself slowly over to the countertop where I had left my 3rd box, and felt around for any items close to it. I found the ink patch first. It was still damp and I tucked it back into the envelope it arrived in. I carefully worked my way around to the kitchen-side of my pass thru countertop and found the drawer where I kept a box of freezer bags. I parked the envelope inside of a bag along with Mistress' fragrant letter and sealed it up tightly. I placed the bag into the box and closed the lid. I wasn't sure if I could take it back to my bedroom without a major fall, so I lifted the box and placed it on a shelf above my microwave counter. I felt for the damp washcloth I usually keep beside my sink. Finding it, I started wiping down the countertops of my kitchen area, moving slowly and trying not to damage anything or hurt myself either. In my mind's eye I could see a girl, the busy bimbo in training, hobbling around with care and trying to figure out where all the objects in her environment actually were before she crashed into them and landed on her ass. I might've been worried or afraid for her If I wasn't so busy analyzing my surroundings in my self-imposed blindness. I located my trusty wine glass and washed it delicately with soap and water. I dried it and put it away gently without any incident. There were a number of other dirty dishes left from my dinner, so I hand-washed all those as well. Next I finished wiping down the stove and the surfaces surrounding it. At this point it was time to make a foray back into the living room. The sun would have gone down by now, so I felt for the drawstrings on my drapes and pulled them closed. I wouldn't need lights on in my apartment, not with my sissy-mask on, but it would be normal to turn some lights on, so I felt for the light switches in the hallway and turned on two recessed ceiling lights. "What to do now?" I wondered. Then the thought hit me with a salacious tingle: 'What if she is watching me right now? Her app lets her do that. And couldn't she have been watching me all this time?' With a tremor of horny apprehension I imagined my brazen Mistress sitting at her computer checking her video screen, or perhaps several screens with four or more of us on each monitor, her bound sissified boyfriends, each at different stages of training, doing our utmost to earn her praises and attention. They must yearn as I do for another whiff of her perfume, and hope for the next touch of her precious inks on their nipples and tongues. However many of us there were we all shared the same trap and the same ultimate desires. I understood now that in two short days, a single weekend, I'd become a willing plaything of the most amazing and dominant female I or any poor submissive man could ever hope for. I knew perfectly well that in two days with the aid of her clever phone-app she could have sucked up hours of video and scores of images of me. That would provide her all the blackmail material anyone would ever need, if threatening or chastising one of her cuckolds became necessary. But I had no intentions of being unruly. I vowed to become the best boyfriend Mistress had ever trained. I wanted to set records for her and become the most celebrated servitor of all. Was this her ink talking now? Or was it the combination of the perfume and cream on top of her ink, or the seductive embrace of the feminine garments she locked on my body? There was no way to tell and it truly didn't matter much. I'd given her my consent. I tapped the 'yes' button too many times. Marina had taken me as her prize and I was content. The road ahead would not be easy. She cautioned me very clearly about that. She confessed her satisfaction depended in no small measure on my hot frustration and humiliation. But again that was fine with me. At this point it had to be. My Mistress had become my Goddess. She'd showed me I had nothing to fear. I was impaled by Her sissy-mask yet unafraid. I was beyond the paradox of my feminizing encasements, for I desired only Her. To ride Her mask silently and do my chores faithfully was almost a logical end-point. I felt no remorse. As bright as the colors on my mask were, the pride I felt in gratifying my Mistress from now on glowed brighter still. I had satisfied Her dark fantasies in all six of the boxes She had sent, and I had done that in record time. I began to apply spray-wax on my coffee table, and to polish it with a cloth. This required me to kneel and angle my head up over the collar as I rubbed. How appropriate it was for me now to hold my chin up so high, even in my humbled, objectified situation. If She was watching surely Mistress would be enjoying how nicely I was coming along. For so was I. 'Cross my heart and never lie.' I continued to run the gamut of emotions, awash in anticipations and delight as I polished my coffee table in my fetish outfit, until I heard the higher-than-usual chirping of a pink padlock. I wondered how the hour could have sped by so quickly. I suppose being in the presence of my Goddess must have had something to do with that. Even if I hadn't seen Her, I felt like we had spent half the day together. I suspect that my magnified impressions were triggered by the ink wafer and compounded by the intimate pressures and oppressive darkness of my mask. I reached for the pink lock and pulled it open without any problem. The mask came off easily. I stared at it for a long minute before walking to the kitchen. I tossed my washcloth in the sink and ran warm water and soap over the fat rubber plug. I studied the dildo as I washed it clean of my saliva, not quite believing it had been buried completely in my mouth for that full hour. "So, I will need to do this 6 more times within a week to advance to the next stage," I mulled inwardly, "And what's in it for me?" 'You know damn well what's in it,' came my silent reply, 'The chance to be Mistress' favorite - the best boyfriend of them all!' It was almost beyond comprehension that I would be thinking such thoughts, but I was. I couldn't wait to climb up this ladder for Her, especially if it meant setting records on the way. I wanted this, despite the foolhardiness of it, the humiliation of knowing I had become a woman's mere possession, the towering indecency of admitting to myself that I loved every aspect of Her domination of me. I patted the water off of my mask and parked it on a piece of paper towel to continue drying. I placed the pink lock next to it, feeling very certain that I would be reaching for it again soon. I looked at the mask again, noting that the shape of its insides had been just right for me. How was that even possible, I wondered. It had the perfect negative contours for my face. Nothing ever felt so natural or form-fitting to my body, never in my life. 'Look at those little shapes at the base of the dildo, where it attaches to the mask,' I said to myself. 'These are my exact lip-grooves. My lips sat there as everything went flush against my face.' Those ridges above my lips, the edges of my nose and brow were the correct shape and depth, and precise distances from one another. No wonder it felt so natural, as if it imprinted itself somehow on my face. Or could it be the other way around? The question this suggested was too strange for me to ask. I then turned my attentions to the other end of the cock. I traced my finger back from the curves where my lips had been to the place where, I blushed even as I formed the thought, Her penis lodged itself in my throat. 'That long distance it traveled inside me.' I whispered, amazed and ashamed, yet filled by something bordering on joy, 'So hard to believe - such an eerie kind of magic for this long thing to disappear into me as Her porcelain mask made love to my face.' Somehow this mask, along with the other paths of sissy activities Mistress had set me upon, was redefining my sexuality. Mistress was reorienting my entire frame of sexual awareness. Thank heaven I was still heterosexual; there was no doubt about that. But the trajectory of my physicality had been altered in some indefinable way. Even the sensations of my extremities seemed to be new. For indeed I was changing and in ways I had no ability yet to comprehend. Pouring myself a glass of water, I stood there drinking it, wondering when I could schedule 6 more masked sessions over the coming days. If I really wanted to exceed Her expectations I could attempt 2 rounds on each of the next three days and be finished by Wednesday evening. Perhaps it would be smart to schedule those when I was already planning to do some chores, like the laundry and my vacuuming tomorrow morning, or the dishes on all three evenings. I felt my face redden again at the thought of vacuuming floors and dusting the apartment in my scandalous sissy-mask and retro-female outfit. I had two late Monday afternoon appointments with clients, but both would be over the telephone. They would not interfere with wearing all of my boyfriend-bonus items, except for my mask of course. My counseling session with Lorain was at 1:45 PM Monday. Lorain would surely want to know how the meet-up at the pub went. I wondered if I should postpone that. It would take all of the courage I had to be honest with her. I shook my thoughts free of that concern. 'All that can be decided later, after a good night's sleep.' I had 50 minutes left on my collar-locks so I initiated all of my going-to-bed rituals. I washed my face, brushed and flossed my teeth, and used the restroom, each with the added handicap that my stiff collar imposed. When I was ready to turn down my bed I still had a half-hour to go before my tiny green jailers would free me of the collar. So I decided to have a look at the accessory kit in box #3. Fetching the box back from my kitchen, I found the soft zipper pouch under the wrapping. Mistress said it would be filled with high-end cosmetics, and so it was. 'It can't be a coincidence,' I thought, 'After trying to improvise with my pale lipstick and eye-shadow just a few hours ago, my Mistress has sent me a complete bundle of very stylish and expensive-looking makeup.' It included a tray of six eye-shadows, three tubes of lipstick, two lipliners, two eye-liner pens, a mascara brush and a brow brush. It had a fat jar of cream-colored foundation, another jar of foundation-setting powder with a brush, a tube of bronzer and a blusher stick. There was even an eyelash-curling tool which made me laugh. I used to tease Celine whenever I saw her use her lash tool. It was a joke she never seemed to appreciate. At the bottom I found a folded-up sheet of paper with printed instructions for the two white tubes that were enclosed that contained no labels on them. 'The larger tube contains night cream,'it stated, 'Apply generously at bed-time, especially on and around the eyelids, cheeks and lips. The smaller tube contains daytime cream. Apply this lightly to the entire face every morning immediately after a shower or bath. The daytime cream smooths and moisturizes on its own, as well as when foundation and other cosmetics are applied on top of it. Whether or not added cosmetics are applied over the day-cream, a light application of powder is recommended." It sounded like a lot to figure out, and as tired as I was feeling, most of this would need to wait for awhile too - but putting on the night cream sounded simple enough for now. As I stroked it on, I thought I felt the pleasure of wearing my sissy mask being reawakened. Perhaps it was just sense-memory, but for a minute my lips and tongue tingled in an odd yet enjoyable way. I was now down to 18 minutes till the beastly collar could come off. 'Seriously,' I thought, 'if Mistress chooses to make me sleep in this thing, it might actually be easier than my waiting up endlessly to remove it so I can fall into bed.' I was so sleepy, and that 5 AM wakeup time was looming. And yet it was during those minutes that I began to write down this journal. It has taken me two months to complete it to this point, as I've struggled to describe my experiences and address my feelings in the diminished time I still have in the schedules Mistress Marina devises for me. But there is so much more to tell you now, dear readers. For in those difficult weeks I have attained not only Mistress' aspirant rank but Her devotee level too, and Mistress tells me that I'm soon to be named a servitor, Her 11th and fastest qualifier to date. Soon I will officially join a staff of devoted servitors who maintain Her domicile for an earned number of hours of servitude per week - and if we are very lucky, to service Her sexual needs also. When my time comes, and I can barely wait, I will embrace my opportunity to appear on time, severely locked in my full sissy-maid uniform, thoroughly silenced and blinded by Her mask, a gift that is unique from all other sissy-mask styles. I'll devote myself to tidying and cleaning as I dream fondly upon my hopes for a minute or two of intimate duty She may grant me.