from Neil

Dear Auntie Helga,

I agreed that physical preventative measures to curtail masturbation were certainly desirable and that all their ideas were most welcome. Helen was reticent at first, but soon all four of us were chatting freely about chastity devices, pantie girdles, corselettes, straitjackets, and modifications to my sleeping arrangements which ranged from bondage sleepsacks to attaching lockable stocks to either end of my bed to accommodate wrists and ankles.

So it was, as bedtime approached, that I was again invited to stay overnight in a sleeping bag on the sofa, and I accepted. We all agreed that it had been a thought-provoking discussion, which Rosemary, noting my bulge, astutely described as possibly too stimulating for some. Accordingly, after I returned from the bathroom, she presented me with a firm pantie girdle and a long white cotton nightdress before asking whether I might need my hands bound behind me. After I mumbled my agreement, she told me to turn around and then proceeded, in front of her daughters, to tie my wrists together using old stockings and tights, adding that she would cane me next morning if I had unwisely worked my hands free during the night. As it was, she bound my wrists so proficiently that escape was impossible, and I have never felt so embarrassed in my life.

Yes the sleepsack can feel really hot, but we live in Scotland where cool weather is the norm, and my small bedroom is usually unheated. Whether it is Helen or her mother pulling on the cords (she calls this "getting her son-in-law into the sack"), I love being zipped up, being tightly laced in, and left to struggle. I have no need of bedlinen, and my sack, laid on a plain mattress, is always fastened to the bedframe so that I cannot accidentally fall off during the night. Helen and I are considering buying a sleepsack made out of spandex (lycra) which would be cooler in warm weather. However I really like wearing a satin nightdress, and this would not be practical inside a tight-fitting spandex sleepsack.

You ask about passing water at night. Well, as things stand, I limit my fluid intake each evening and I tend to sweat in the leather sack - which means that I produce little urine overnight. Moreover, if Helen uses Nurse Agatha's special girdling arrangement, I cannot pass water even if I should need to. From a physical perspective, at present I can go eight hours without difficulty, but Rosemary has been suggesting various refinements to increase my hardship (her intentional pun).

One is to acquire a spandex sleepsack with an integral all-over hood, and another of her evil ideas is to extend my period of confinement, especially at weekends if I am not required for domestic chores, to between 12 and 24 hours. Now that I am used to the sleepsack, I cope well with 8 hours for most of which I sleep, but I shudder to think what more prolonged bondage could mean. As things are, the sack's internal (infernal) sleeves keep my hands tantalizingly close to my private parts so that, because I am unable to gratify myself, I can at times feel really desperate and despondent. Furthermore there is the matter of my passing water (and giving me some water to keep me hydrated), but I know that protracted restraint in silence and darkness (my bedroom windows are fitted with blackout blinds) while awake could prove dreadfully boring and wretchedly frustrating.

Helen dislikes her mother's idea of putting me in adult nappies, and neither of us warms to a suggestion from Emma, my sister-in-law, of fitting me with an external catheter (also known as condom catheter or Texas-style catheter) and urine bag. Nevertheless, I know that Helen has shown some interest in keeping me trussed overnight in the sleepsack for about 10 hours on a regular basis at weekends because she has spoken about my wearing a sanitary towel overnight inside my pantie girdle so that I get to appreciate what a real woman has to endure.

While Rosemary has been encouraging her daughter to try this, she lectures me on my duty as a despicable transvestite husband to be forever continent both sexually and where urination is concerned, adding that boys who cannot control themselves deserve to be beaten with her long wooden hairbrush. As I already wrote in my first letter (June 2013), I am both terrified and excited by the idea that my mother-in-law might wish to punish me physically. Of course, I realise that if my sanitary towel were to show any signs of my having leaked urine or pre-cum, this would give her the perfect pretext.

For her part, Emma, who now loves reading internet articles on male chastity, thinks that I should let her perform prostate massage on me each month so that I ejaculate without orgasm. Until now Helen gives me hand-relief, and I long for this from one month's release until the next. She forbids me from complaining about my predicament but recognises that depriving me of this rigorously rationed but wonderful experience would definitely be a step too far, and that my having no orgasms whatsoever could seriously damage our beautiful relationship.

Best wishes,

Thank you for your letter Neil. Much of this lifestyle is about experimentation, being open to explore various methods of bondage and confinement can be very rewarding. Even using common items when combined with imagination can be used for training purposes and once again you have been pushed to accept their authority and ability to restrain and control your tendency to masturbate. Love an update at some point.

Auntie Helga

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Letter 8