Day three started early. I was so exhausted the night before that I passed out around 6:30 p.m. and woke up at 2:30 a.m. I slept hard—so hard that, surprisingly, I didn’t wake up even once. That alone felt like a small victory: no painful middle-of-the-night awakening. My cock must have been exhausted too 🙂
I used to love being awake at night after everyone else had gone to sleep. There’s something magical and calming about it—the silence, the privacy, that extra layer of secrecy. Especially as a kinky teen who was always terrified of getting caught. I could lock my door, sure, but when you’re self-bound in a hogtie with a gag in your mouth, a knock on the door is nothing short of full-blown panic 😂
As an adult, though, I rarely stay up super late anymore. A good night’s sleep is just too important. I can always feel the difference the next day: grumpy, impatient, and making more mistakes than usual. I hoped I could fall back asleep, but despite multiple internal lectures and pep talks, there was absolutely no chance. I was wide awake.
Talk about temptation.
The night was mine!
All I wanted to do was watch or read femdom porn, play with my cage, stroke myself until I was dripping with frustration—moaning, grunting, whimpering—only to have every attempted erection tightly squeezed and denied by the cage. I was heading down a dangerous path.
What helped—and somehow turned me on even more—was knowing that there was now a dominant woman on the other side of this equation. Someone I had submitted to under the competition’s rules and terms. That thought grounded me. It made me determined to honor the commitment I’d made. I read only a paragraph of naughtily arranged words before stopping myself and deliberately changing course.
Distraction time.
I lit some candles, put on a TV show, and started cleaning. Navigating house chores while caged—and trying to avoid movements or angles that caused pinching and pressure—proved to be quite the learning curve. Before I knew it, 5:00 a.m. rolled around, and it was time to get ready for work.
I hadn’t gone to work caged in ages, so I took one of the keys with me just in case of an emergency. I sent my cage verification photo to the group, applied a generous amount of lotion to minimize friction, and headed out.
Work was… challenging. The cage kept pinching, and trying to adjust it through my pants only made things worse. After a couple of bathroom trips, I realized that if I kept running off to fix it, I’d never finish my shift. So I spent the day scanning for opportunities to discreetly reach into my underwear and fix the damn thing. When I finally managed to do it right—pure heaven 😂
There were a few uncomfortable moments, but overall, I made it through without crying.
On my way home, my phone started blowing up with notifications from the group. The frequency was more aggressive than usual, so I figured something was up. When I finally checked, I saw that Mistress Ashley had posted the points from the last edging session.
And then I saw the results.
Round 1 Results:
Pneuma — 100
T — 100
S — 100
P — 70
T — 70
B — 60
D — 60
C — 50
P — 50
J — 45
J — 35
L — 30
M— 30
J — 25
…Are you FUCKING kidding me?!
A three-way tie.
With my name on top.
I absolutely did not want to be on top, because now all three of us have to increase our stroke count by at least 15 from our previous pledge each time. Which means—unless and until we go bankrupt—we’ll be doing over 250 strokes by the end of the month.
Yup. Totally fucked.
sobs
To be continued…