To Whom It May Concern

To Whom It May Concern in the bdsm community

My name is Beth, I'm thirty-three years old, and I used to be overweight, but I am finally close to losing the last of the extra fifty pounds of weight I carried. Previously I had dieted and joined gyms, only to meet with failure. I didn't stick with the plan, didn't keep going to the gym, and didn't lose the weight. Doing so required discipline I didn't possess. Because I am a sexual submissive and masochist, I came to the realization that I needed a Master. After an exhaustive search, I finally found one. The following documents the progress I've made, while under his control.

I have worked from home for years, but for the last five and a half months, I've neither taken nor made a single phone call, as I have been kept gagged at all times. All of my correspondence is now done through the computer or texting. The 24/7 gag I wear was very expensive and is custom made for me. It consists of a hard, impact-plastic, penis-shaped plug that holds my mouth as wide open as it can possibly go, and its head rests just inside the opening of my throat. The butt of the gag is formed into a curved flange; this is molded to fit around the front of my teeth, from eyetooth to eyetooth and is cut to fit exactly inside of my lips to prevent drooling on my part. The gag has a one-inch hole running through its center through which I can breathe, drink, or even throw up if necessary. Just below the one-inch hole in the gag's flange is a high-security, stainless steel lock mechanism.

My tongue has been pierced in two places, one an inch behind the other. The gag incorporates a flat, under-tongue stainless steel platelet with two thick pins that correspond with the two piercings in my tongue. The thick pins protrude up through my tongue and into the locking mechanism of the gag. I do not have the keys to my gag, only my Master does. My tongue is continuously locked to the plastic cock in my mouth.

The gag prevents me from eating anything that I am not authorized to. My Master drops by on the weekends to re-supply me with approved foods that I may blend into a "smoothie" and eat, with some difficulty, through the tube in my gag. Master removes the gag once every weekend. I am not allowed to speak, or to close my mouth during this time, only to brush my teeth, suck his cock, and then I am re-gagged for the next seven days. I can taste his cum in my mouth for hours after every time he allows me to service him orally.

I'm extremely pleased with my gag. It was very uncomfortable for about the first month, but my jaw muscles finally relaxed, and I love the idea that I am forced to keep a cock in my mouth at all times. I find the idea of being forced to continuously suck a fake, plastic cock to be terribly humiliating, and therefore incredibly erotic. When I wake up each morning, I find, to my continued horror and delight, that my tongue is locked to the underside of a great big, plastic penis. I always try, but I cannot get it out of my mouth, cannot utter a word, and it turns me on like crazy.

In addition to my gag-enforced diet, I must exercise every day. Failure to complete my daily exercise program results in severe punishment. The one time I slackened and didn't finish the program, Master hung me upside-down in an ankle spreader bar with my hands cuffed behind me. My shaved puss was whipped, and my ass and the undersides of my breasts were caned. Yes, caned! My cunt was a swollen mass of red-striped welts, and my tits and bottom were bruised for two weeks. I couldn't sit for three days and had to kneel to work on the computer. I will never, ever, fail to finish my exercise program again. Being denied my weekly release from the chastity belt was almost as bad the caning. This left me writhing in pain and sexual need, not allowed to cum for another week.

I hadn't mentioned that little bit yet. Only Master may (or not) allow me to cum. I am locked up in one of Tollyboy's finest chastity belts. It's uncomfortably tight, both around my waist and between my legs, and I cannot make myself climax while I am secured in it. I know this from countless hours of trying. This is particularly difficult for me, as my sex drive could be classified as near-nymphomaniac. Prior to being locked up in my chastity belt, I masturbated six to eight times a day. Since being put into the belt, my work productivity is way up, but my continuous, aching, sexual desire is terrible.

Exercising is difficult for me because my Master insists I must do so while wearing locked-on, six-inch high stiletto heels. I am forced to wear these shoes twenty-three and a half hours each day. Actually, that's not true. I have the choice to not put them on and lock their metal ankle straps in place, therefore choosing instead to be hung upside down and have my pussy whipped, and my ass and tits caned. Following this, I will be forcefully secured into "ballet-toe" high heels, which lock in place, and which I will wear for the rest of the week. I am encouraged to 'voluntarily' choose to wear the ballet-toe shoes (for the day) each morning, and have found that failing to do so at least twice a week results in forfeiting my orgasm for that week!

During the half-hour that I'm out of my hosiery and pain-slut pumps, I must wear my clear plastic, six-inch heeled shower pumps. My feet are small, a size six, and the six-inch or higher heels I must constantly wear force my feet into a position similar to a ballerina's when she's en pointe. I'm only en pointe two or three days a week, but even in the 'normal' pumps it's very close; my insteps arch backwards under me, well past vertical in the ridiculous shoes. Where they meet the floor, the heels are only a finger's breadth from the soles. Part of my exercise regimen is the daily, five mile speed-walk on the treadmill. This is unbelievably difficult in the ballet-toe shoes. I can't believe I'm up to five miles, having started at only five hundred yards, and I'm certain that I've achieved the end goal of my high-heel training, which is to shorten my tendons to the point where I can no longer walk without the aid of my punishment pumps.

I am naturally somewhat shy, and abhor being the center of attention. Wearing anything provocative in public is embarrassing for me in the extreme. My master was made aware of this, as well as the fact that humiliation and embarrassment make me very wet. Accordingly, I may now only own and wear one type of clothing, ultra-slut. My entire wardrobe consists of sheer body stockings, micro-mini skirts, see-through tops, waist-cincher corsets, half cup bras, lots of colorful make-up, and of course the dozen different pairs of pain-slut pumps that I may choose from to spend my days and nights in. My too-tight, too-thin t-shirts and tank tops each are loudly printed across the breasts and back with declarations of "Bondage girl!", "Whip me, please!", "Make me obey!" "Pain slut!", "Anally trained!", "Yes Master!" and a number of others.

I must wear hosiery of one form or another at all times, except in the shower. I don't wear seamed stockings, though. I don't have to; Adding to my humiliation and embarrassment, Master has had me tattooed with 3mm wide black seams that start just behind my toes on the bottoms of my feet, and continue straight up the backs of my legs. This process was incredibly painful and took more than two hours per leg. Much of my make-up, such as the too-heavy eyeliner, the bright green shadow that reaches all the way to my eyebrows and matches my eyes, as well as my blush, lipstick and lip liner are all tattooed onto me as well. Gagged and dressed as I am, I can hardly bear to go to the mailbox now for fear of being seen! The multiple, two-hour each way drives to the tattoo artist who agreed to do all of this work on me were torture; I had to spend the entire days either driving or being tattooed, dressed as an ultra-slut with my gag locked in place for everyone to see.

I am fully dressed in slut wear and garish makeup even before I finish applying my makeup by seven every morning, adding gloss and sparkles to make myself into a complete whore. I am so careful not to run a stocking. To do so earns me the same inverted punishment as failing to complete my exercises. Having your cunt whipped, and then having your ass and the underside of your tits caned, all while you hang helpless, upside down and spread, can ruin your whole day. Having your raw, freshly whipped cunt locked into a tight-fitting chastity belt without being allowed to cum, ruins your whole week.

My nipples have been tattooed to match my lips, deep red, with the tips done a few shades darker than the areolas. This was done to increase my humiliation, as they show through every top I own. I had my nipples pierced years ago and then slowly expanded the diameter of the piercings, up to the 4 gauge holes they are now. My nipples are under tension at all times; the sensation is somewhat like wearing nipple clamps that I can't take off. This is due to the inch-and-a-half long 'stretching cages' that are now permanently affixed onto to each of my nipples. They're hellish little things, with dozens of small, sharp points built into each of their bases. They certainly meet their design parameter, inflicting continuous, spiky torment to my areolas! Between the bases of the stretchers and the piercings, my fat, tattooed-red nipples bulge out between the thick titanium wires, forming obscene, semi-spherical angry red cones. They look quite bizarre, like small red balls mounted onto the front of a larger pink ball. A half-inch of each super-sensitive nipple extends past the piercing bar.

The nipple bondage I wear was custom made for me. Instead of having individual piercing bars, one through each nipple, my piercing bar is one-piece. It's nine inches long and passes through both of my nipples. It has a permanent, irremovable ball at either end. In between, it captures heavy inch-and-a-half stirrup loops that fit outside the eyes of each stretcher cage as it passes through both my nipples. I have been informed that it would require a skilled machinist to remove my system of nipple bondage and torment, and that my breasts would likely be disfigured in the process.

At the center of the piercing bar is a very functional leash-ring. From each of the stirrups dangles a two-inch long chain, each terminating with a large, tightly-sprung, toothy 'alligator' clamp for use on the sensitive tips of my nipples that protrude past all the hardware.

I must have these awful little clamps firmly in place, their sharp teeth biting deeply into the continuously sore tips of my nipples, during each of the six times I check in with my Master (via web-cam), during the day. He inspects my outfit, my make-up, the energy level and distances I achieved on my exercise machines. I typically end up with my nipples in the tightly-sprung clamps for about twenty minutes per inspection; This means I spend a total of two hours of each day enduring nipple torture. I suffer terribly in the awful things, and am ashamed at how wet it makes me every time I gasp in pain, putting them in place or finally taking them off.

While my desperate, horny pussy continuously craves having something large inserted in it, my bottom is never without something very large painfully forced up into it. Since day one of my 'diet' program, my anal training has been ongoing and intensive. This has been particularly traumatic since I was an anal virgin at the outset of the training, and have always abhorred the very idea of having anything put into my bottom. However, this is of no concern to my Master, so, (per the plan), the size of my butt-plug has been increased each and every week. I'm five and a half months into the program now and have suffered through twenty size increases. By three months into my program, the diameter of the narrowest part at the base of my butt plug was slightly larger than a soda can. My anal stretching plugs were attached to my cunt via a ten-inch chain. Its connection point is a thick ring, pierced through my lower labia. My butt plugs have always been equipped to vibrate for the pleasure of my Master when he uses my cunt. This function is turned on by a key, inserted into the base of the plug. I do not have this key and cannot turn it on or off. I am a vibrating fuck-toy for my Master's pleasure.

This week, I have reached the ultimate goal of my anal training. This is the permanent installation of a large, inflated dildo into my painfully stretched and aching ass. This dildo is hollow with a large cap at its base, so as to allow me to void myself via enemas. It is equipped to vibrate and/or painfully shock on command via remote control. The "narrow" part at the dildo's base is exactly three inches in diameter, and is stainless steel to prevent someone from trying to tamper with the one-way inflator valve. The inflatable portion is kevlar and cannot be punctured, even with a hypodermic needle. Even if it were to be punctured, the thick silicone-based substance that it's been pumped full of has gelled, and cannot leak out. I know all the particulars about this dildo because it was on hand, in a clear display case in my living room, from day one of my training. Now that it is in place and inflated, it is removable only by extensive, crippling surgery. I will spend every moment of the rest of my life with this monster up my ass, violating and tormenting me. Whoever holds its remote control can make me do absolutely anything they want. I shudder every time I think about it.

I am secured in a titanium collar and matching belt. They went on the day I started my 'diet' and they're very pretty, if not very comfortable. The collar two inches tall, a quarter-inch thick, and is graced with thick, one-inch diameter leash rings at front and back. The belt is four inches wide, and is equipped with a ratcheting closure which allows it to become tighter and tighter, but never loosen. It has eight, permanently-affixed garter strap tabs, with inch-wide elastic straps that keep my stockings at full stretch. Deeply engraved into the front of the collar are two words, one on either side of the leash ring. The words are 'pain' and slut'. The letters are filled in with a red epoxy paint to make them stand out nicely against the polished grey of the titanium. The collar and belt were both made by Axsmar, and are the permanently-locking variety for which they make you sign a waiver for before allowing you to purchase. Even at my ideal weight, the collar will always be a bit snug. At fifty pounds overweight I felt like I was wearing a corset around my throat. The belt has always been agonizingly tight, and now measures only nineteen inches around its' perimeter. It's constriction makes me walk with an exaggerated rotation in my hips, which makes my ass wiggle like a whore's. Axsmar say that they have yet to hear of anybody managing to get a permanent titanium belt or collar of this thickness removed. They further inform me that it's very doubtful that any machine shop would even try it, due to liability.

The purpose of this letter is this. I have a problem. My Master's contract is up in two weeks and he does not want to renew. While it was lucrative for him, his wife does not care for the idea of his involvement with me, as it is cutting into his work and family time. That, plus the fact he is not a true dominant, and has only participated in my program for the money.

I'm sorry if I have caused any confusion; I've just realized that I haven't mentioned an important fact about my training program; I was the one who created it, and ultimately put it in motion. It took me three years to sort out all the details and round up all the devices. You see, I'm the one who designed and ordered my gag, purchased all of my ultra-slut clothing, had my locking, pain-slut high heels custom made for me, the nipple torture jewelry, the tattooing, anal torture dildo, all of it. I'm happy to say that I've lost forty-seven of my fifty pound target, and I'm living in the strict, terrible bondage and control that I've always fantasized about.

The only part of my program that I regret is the permanent anal dildo. It's too big. I hate giving myself enemas. I thought I'd get used to it but I haven't. I have no choice about it though, and am sentenced to endure a lifetime of anal punishment.

My immediate problem is this. I only have two weeks to find a new Master. This time I will probably have to pay more for their services as I would like to begin the public humiliation and orgasm denial phase of my program. The program specifies very clearly that I am to be publicly paraded around while wearing my fetish/pain-slut outfits. I have taken delivery of a punishment bra that will lock onto me permanently, it's design being to 'root-cinch' my breasts in inch and a half long by three inch diameter stainless steel cuffs, with connecting chains to my collar and a wide, tight steel band that will run across my back. My breasts are quite large as it is, and will be under pressure that forces them into a permanent spherical shape. In short, my tits will be bright, angry pink balls of flesh about the size of canteloupes, held off my chest on inch and a half tall stands. I anticipate the discomfort and humiliation of this bondage will be intense, to say the least.

I am to remain gagged, and while outside my condo I must also be leashed and I must wear 'Irish 8' style handcuffs at both my wrists and elbows. The elbow cuffs will force me to have a 'tits up and out' posture to best display them. I will have to wear the ballet toe fetish heels five out of seven days per week, and at any time I'm outside the condo. The more crowded the area, the more people to add to my total embarrassment, the better. My guts clench every time I picture what this will feel like, tits bound, penis-gagged, leashed, handcuffed, huge dildo up my ass, paraded around in ballet-toe high heels and displayed for all to see. Crowds of people will see my heavily-bondaged, darkly tattooed nipples, totally visible through every blouse I own. Below my bright pink/blonde page-boy haircut, my collar is on display from all angles. My stocking tops will always be visible because I do not own a skirt long enough cover them. My humiliation will be soo complete!

The orgasm denial phase specifies that a small, remote-control vibrator will be installed into the crotch cover of my chastity belt, positioned to just touch my clit. Using this device as well as any other techniques (soft kisses, caressing, spanking me, putting my nipple clamps in place, etc.), my new Master will be tasked with bringing me to, and keeping me at, the verge of orgasm. His goal will be to keep me on this edge as much as possible, while never, ever allowing me to cum. The program states that he will lose a week's pay for each time that I achieve orgasm.

I understand that very few people will want to be seen with a continuously turned on, blushing, gagged, handcuffed, sexually embarrassing spectacle like me, much less lead me on a leash, so I may not find anyone to take on that part of the job.

If anyone reading this thinks they might know of anyone willing to be my Master, please contact me.

Yours in painful obedience,
Pain-slut Beth

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Page last updated 2016-Jan-11 by: Altairboy@aol.com