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Babysitter story
Certainly a tough challenge in the offing (but no doubt the incentive to do well). I look forward to reading all about it.
(07-05-2021, 05:26 AM)Girlygirl Wrote: Certainly a tough challenge in the offing (but no doubt the incentive to do well). I look forward to reading all about it.

Here it is.
Chapter 9.

More cage life.

When the time for my first test came along, after my usual first punishment session, I was told to strip, remove the corset that was my usual underwear when dressed in the schoolgirl uniform, and replace it with the panty girdle and soft corselette combination described earlier, then put the shirt and tie, hat and blazer back on. I was to wear the mini kilt, and have the long padlocks added to the corselette’s crotch. I looked a real sight! I was then told to get into the cage, and to get into my comfortable position. The thirty minute timer was started, but the effect of sitting on a recently paddled backside, and then getting a cramp, meant that I failed miserably. I was duly awarded the five black marks, and told to be prepared, dressed the same, for the extra punishment on Tuesday morning. When I did finally pass this test, after a couple of attempts, I was told what the real event would be. The cage would be set up in the living room, with the cover on. I would be dressed in the horrid animal onesie, then put inside the cage, the cover would be pulled down so nobody could see in or out, and then some visitors would arrive for a coffee and a short chat. If I had any sense, I would remain totally silent. If I didn’t, then the visitors would naturally want to look inside the cage. I dared not think about that.
The time came for this ordeal. I was put into the Tiger Onesie, then told to present my face for makeup. When it was finished, I had a face just like a Tiger’s, and the hood was tightened up. I was bundled into the cage and told to get ready, and the cover was closed.
Soon, the doorbell went, and I could hear voices. The visitors were indeed given coffee, and stayed for about a half hour, as was expected. I managed to keep silent.
When they had gone, I was allowed out, but had to wear the onesie and makeup for the rest of the day.
Then they ‘upped the ante’, as I had done so well this first time. On the next occasion, my hands were held up to the top of the cage by handcuffs, simply looped over one of the metal bars that made up the top. I was told about this a few days before, so I had the opportunity to dwell on it for a while. Another time, I had industrial foam earplugs inserted into my ears, and the blindfold was locked on. Bad news, but I managed to stay quiet. I had no senses to use though, and I had no idea of the passage of time. This went on with variations for a few weeks, and I got better at staying still. A safe ball-gag was added to my available ‘toys’ (13). The earplugs stayed as a usual item, I could hear people talking, but I could not hear what they were saying.
My attire for these sessions was varied, according to the whim of my Owner and My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth. Sometimes it was the onesie, or it was the maid outfit or the corsellette, panty girdle, stockings and the mini kilt. Or others, including various of the Baby Doll PJs, most often the shocking pink one. If I was in the Tiger onesie, than my face was carefully painted beforehand to match. Each time, a photo was taken either as I was put into the cage, or when I was uncovered. I was never allowed to see these photos, however. On one occasion when I was wearing the maid outfit, I saw the tray on top of the cage, but it wasn’t put on me. Thankfully.
Then one day I was dressed for the normal Tuesday coffee morning in the cage, but I was not put into it until lunchtime, and I was told that coffee break had now changed to lunch, so my time in the cage was going to be more like an hour each time. This was not welcome news, and it proved to be at least that long.

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Today's episode.
Chapter 10.
The Cage, Part 3, and The Onesie Project.

But on one occasion, I had to sneeze. All conversation outside the cage abruptly stopped, and then the cover of the cage was lifted, and I saw an unfamiliar face looking down at me. “So we meet at last, we have heard so much about you”. This was not good news, but I couldn’t ask any questions, as I had the ball-gag in my mouth. “Yes, we know all about you, in fact we had a hand in arranging this scenario. We’ve seen all the pictures of you. We had to keep you from knowing that we knew, so that you were still convinced that you really needed to stay quiet while in the cage. Now that you know that we know, things will change a little, but these Tuesday lunchtime cage times will still continue. From now on, you will still want to stay quiet, but for a different reason”. When, later, I was let out of the cage, it was explained that from now on, Tuesday lunchtimes would still continue in the same way, and for every session that I remained silent, I would be credited with 2 black mark reductions. But if I ever made a sound, then I would be removed, spanked in front of the visitors, and then returned to the cage, and would be awarded 5 black marks against me. I thought about querying why the credit would be only 2 marks, whereas the debit would be 5 marks, but I decided that doing that would be very foolhardy. I was also informed that I would be randomly put in the cage when I wanted to watch a particular TV programme, so that I could not.
I was also told that sometimes, when I was dressed in the maid outfit, the tray would be added, with my arms locked under it as normal. Now that everybody, including myself, knew the situation, it didn’t matter if I made a noise. Except that for every time the buzzer sounded, I would be awarded a black mark. This could be very bad. I was once threatened with having the tray attached, and then having my hands held up high as normal, so I would not have as much control or even a proper view of the tray as usual. Ouch, not a pretty thought.
I was once tasked with finding a onesie on the internet, with a corset, suspenders and stockings design. Amazingly, I could not find one at all, so I was told to buy a plain onesie, and decorate it myself. I bought a basic onesie in pink, and then bleached it to a colour more like human skin. Then I bought a cheap-and-cheerful corset and suspenders set, in black for contrast, and sewed this onto the onesie. Dark stockings could be attached or changed for new ones if needed, and I found that hold-ups were very useful for this. The onesie was deliberately one size too small for me, to keep it snug. I was told to add some stuffing inside the crotch, to hide my ‘man bits’, and I had to colour the area under the knickers with permanent marker to look like vagina lips. A semi-transparent bikini bottom was then sewn in place. Once the corset was sewn onto the front of the onesie, then I slit it up the front along the line of the zip. Closing the zip made it look as though the corset was still in one piece. Of course, I was told to add loops for a small padlock, to keep the garment in place until I begged for release. I was often told to wear this for an evening, sometimes with the mini kilt.
My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth then decided that I needed a more corset-like onesie, and between us, we came up with a new design. I bought the materials and made it. It started with the same faded pink onesie, and the same cheap corset setup. But before putting it all together, I cut it up the back, from the waistline to the neck, and removed a two inch wide strip from the centre of the back section. This was then sewn over the zip in front, completely immobilising it. At the back, I hemmed both sides of of the new gap, strengthening them in the process, and then added corset lacing eyelets to both sides of the new gap, twelve on each side. When I was put into this and laced in, even though the laces were not as tight as on a real corset, I could not escape. My finger tips are not as sensitive as they used to be, and there was no way I could undo the laces, so again I had to beg every time I wanted or needed to be let out. This really gave me the feeling of being in a corset as well as a onesie.


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(07-06-2021, 11:05 PM)Hugh_Edwin Wrote: Today's episode.

Chapter 11.

The Romper Suit revisited.

I was lying on the blanket placed on the floor whenever I was dressed in the Romper Suit one Friday evening, and My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth looked at me, and then made a suggestion, which was to have a chilling effect on me. She said that the problem with the romper suit was that I could not wear it overnight, as I would be unable to go to the ‘lavatory’ while locked into it. I was invited to come up with a solution to this, to engineer my own discomfort, again. This is what we designed between us. It was going to be hell to wear for a whole night.
I would cut an access panel, just as I had done for the directoire-type knickers I had made earlier, complete with eyelets. But this panel would still be fastened to the suit at its top, below the waistline of the romper, and the drawstring would hang down underneath my crotch. I was to use silver ribbon to make the drawstring (14), and the effect of the light on the silver drawstring, especially when I was standing and moving around to try to alleviate the itching of the hessian, would make it look as though I was peeing! It was duly modified as described. I hated the idea of it.
The first time I had to wear it for a night, after I had had the usual inspection of my school uniform on the Friday evening, and then received my First Punishment of the evening, I was told to get straight into the romper suit, without the terry-cloth nappy. The hessian was agony on my freshly-slippered backside, and I kept doing a little dance to try to get away from the pain. My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth told me that the effect of the silver drawstring hanging down was just perfect. Later in the evening was the Second Punishment, as I was still working off the black marks, or so I was told. For this, I had to take the Romper suit off, then get dressed in my full schoolgirl uniform with gymslip. Once the Punishment was over, I was back into the romper suit. Soon it was time for My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth to go out to the pub, and instead of putting me on the Waiting Stool, she tied my hands with the tapes attached to the front of the romper suit, so immobilising them, added mittens to my hands, and then produced a set of Adult Baby Reins (15), which she put on me, and locked on. The attached chain was then lifted up to a hook that I had never seen before, hanging from the ceiling. I had no choice but to stand there, still dressed in the romper suit, and squirming with agony from the hessian lining. The bells incorporated into the suit were playing a merry tune. When my Owner came home to put me to bed, she showed me that the laptop had filmed me dancing around trying to get rid of the itch, and my silver hanging drawstring was captured perfectly in the low light, looking exactly like a stream of pee. Oh dear. She also told me that My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth had got so tired of the continuous e-mail messages that she had shut off her mobile! The Zoneminder recordings of me that evening were, as she said, “keepers”.
The next day, I went to look at the hook in the ceiling. It had already been replaced with a small disc, and so I asked my Owner about it. She replied that it had been fitted by a local handyman one day the previous week, when I had had to go the hospital for an Outpatient operation, so she had known I would be out of the house for several hours. It was a threaded nut, securely attached to a beam in the ceiling, and the hook just screwed into it. It could be replaced by the cover disc, to hide the hole.


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Chapter 12.

The Reins of Terror.

My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth told me one Friday that she had a plan to keep me on my toes. I was dressed in the maid uniform, then told to remove the cover for the hole in the ceiling and replace it with the hook. Already I was nervous. I had the serving tray put on me, with my arms secured underneath, and then had stand on a book directly underneath the hook. The Baby Reins were installed on me and the chain attached tightly to the hook. Then the book was removed, and I was left almost standing on tiptoe, but the reins took most of my weight. It was really tough on the toes, although I could help them by putting more of my weight on the reins. That caused a severe discomfort in my tummy, though, so I could not do it for long. I was informed that no guests would be coming back to the house that evening, so I would not need the blindfold, and this would mean that I could see the spirit level and the ring that made the buzzer circuit. My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth then left for the pub, leaving me standing there in a most uncomfortable pose. I was glad to see my Owner return.
One ‘normal’ Friday evening, when I happened to be dressed in the sheer see-through Baby Doll PJs, My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth was locking me onto the Waiting Stool before leaving for the pub. She informed me that ‘they’ had devised a scheme whereby I could earn some good credits against my black mark total. I was wary of anything described as a scheme, but she continued. Whenever I went shopping in town, which was at least twice a week, as I did all the shopping for the household, I was to wear the leotard, without the corset, as my underwear. My stockings would be held up by a suspender belt, and I was to wear the frilliest, flounciest knickers that we could find (16), (17) . I would also wear the little maid’s apron from the outfit, to help reinforce that it was indeed a maid’s uniform. The suspenders always had to be over the top of the knickers. I would then don my usual sweatpants and sweatshirt or T-shirt over this. In summer, when I wore shorts, I would not need to wear the stockings and suspenders, but I would still have the same knickers on as in winter. I would be awarded ten black mark credits for each time I did this, which made it worth while doing. I had the time until somebody came home that evening to decide, and the decision would be binding for at least six months, to be sure of a change of season. I was told that I could always wear a pair of Tenas just in case of accidents, it would be up to me. My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth then put my blindfold on me, and left me to think about it.
I agreed to this, and it became my normal shopping attire. On one occasion, my Owner gave me a different pair of knickers, a plain pair, but with an inscription written on the front panel in permanent marker. It said: “For access, contact Owner”. Later, there was one with “This Space for Rent”. And a third one, with: “For a Good Time, call..” and my mobile number! Of course, once I had the knickers, suspender belt, and stockings on each time, she took a photo.
For a change, one day my Owner decided to have me wear the Panty Girdle and corselette combination to go shopping, thankfully without the little padlocks. Ouch. But I suppose it was underwear being used for its rightful purpose.
But then things were stepped up somewhat. One Friday, I was told that the next time I went shopping, dressed of course in the leotard etc and when I was wearing knickers with one of the messages on it, I was to detour on the way home to the house from where I had collected my cage earlier. I was to go around the back of the house, identify the CCTV camera, drop my trousers to my ankles, and do a slow revolve, so the the camera could see everything, including the writing on my knickers. I objected to this, as I considered it went beyond our original agreement, but I was awarded five black marks and a special spanking that evening.



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Chapter 13.

Periodic Blood Delivery, underwear and a change in circumstances.

My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth decided that the system that we had of putting the fake blood onto my sanitary pad during ‘our’ period was not random enough to represent the real thing. As the Engineer, I was instructed to find a better way of doing this. What I eventually came up with was this:
A colostomy bag was attached to my left thigh, the non-return valve reversed to allow liquid out but not back in, and its delivery tube was routed to my arse crack. The tube was secured in place on my back with a couple of pieces of surgical tape and the end of it positioned just above my sanitary pad. When I pulled my knickers up, the only place the bag could send its contents to when squeezed was the sanitary pad. In the mornings, the bag was filled with the fake blood for which we had the recipe, and then secured to my thigh. From that point on, whenever my Owner, or anybody for that matter, pressed down on my left thigh, whether or not they knew that the bag was there hidden under my trousers, I got a squirt of fake blood in my knickers. Ouch, this was not nice, but I was reminded that it was nothing like the Real Thing that women had to go through. There was no response to that. As an unrelated kicker, it was decided that if I heard the words Donald Trump’ on the radio or TV, I was to give it a squeeze myself. This was on the honour system, they would trust me to do this, and I was to log it in the diary.
Then, my Owner decided that the time had come when I needed to change to wearing female knickers instead of my normal boxer shorts. She stopped short of cutting up my male underwear, which I had read of in some accounts, instead putting it all in one of our clothing trunks and locking it closed with a secure numbered cable tie. If absolutely necessary, such as needing to go to the doctor or pother emergency, I could break the tie and wear my own boxer shorts, but I had better have a proper valid explanation for breaking the seal. From then on, it was women's’ knickers for me as underwear. I dreaded to think what would be next. But, and this was a real frightener, I was also told that if, at any time in the future, I really, really pissed off either my Owner or My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth, then I could expect to be dressed in the maid’s outfit, driven to the local clothing bank in daylight, and would have to put all my own male underwear through the slot, never to see it again. If I refused, they had plenty of incriminating photos and video of me to make me comply. That was food for thought.
My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth asked me how I slept, as in on my front, my side, or how? I replied that since I had been given the CPAP machine for my sleep apnoea, I now only ever slept on my back, I no longer twisted and turned. “Correct, according to your Owner” she replied. “I have therefore a new assignment for you. You are to buy two front-closing bras in your chest size, but with the largest bust you can find. Probably a DD will do (18). Find something heavy to use as a weight for each boob, and make a couple of pouches out of all the old holey underpants and worn T-shirts that you keep for rags. I had thought of using cricket balls, but they are surprisingly light, so maybe you need some stones from the garden, or maybe some Bowls balls. They are about 5 inches in diameter and about 3 pounds in weight. The pouches should fit comfortably inside the bra cups. Add a couple of rings to the top and bottom of the bra front pieces, so that the bra can be locked on to you. Make sure the rings are big enough for the large padlocks you wear with the serving try, although we will start with the small locks. After this, you will have a valley between your boobs for the CPAP hose to sit in, and your view will certainly have changed!”
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Chapter 14.

Bras and Bad News.

I worked on the first bra, and by the next Friday evening, I had it ready as instructed. The weight was provided by a pair of bowls balls, bought at a charity shop, adding about 3 pounds to each boob. The weight made the boobs roll out to the side when I lay down, so I added a pair of suspender straps across the top and bottom of the breasts to pull them together and keep them in place. They looked quite sexy, and could be easily disconnected to remove the bra, unless the locks were in place. I realised that women who had the real things must have some unpleasant times.
My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth told me to strip, after my second Punishment of the evening, and to put on the shorts from one of my Baby Doll nightie sets. Then she sat me on the Waiting Stool, and put the new bra on me. It was heavy and uncomfortable, just as she had intended. She then got the two small padlocks, and locked me into the bra, and produced a new toy, a belt which fastened behind me, and had little loops at the sides which were fastened around my wrists, preventing my using them at all (19).
The blindfold was not put on me, which was unusual for a Friday evening before My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth left for the pub. But tonight was different. She told me to listen carefully, as this was important. “Remember when we were discussing about your Stop option, to be used if you thought something we wanted you to do was dangerous? Well that will continue, we don’t want you to come to any harm. But as for the other part of that, whereby you could end this whole scene, for ever, your Owner and I have decided that that is no longer a valid option. We reckon that between us, we have enough photos and video to keep you honest and in thrall to us for as long as we want. You have no vote on this. There is no need to thank us, your Owner and I will now have a bottle of champagne in the pub to celebrate this change. And don’t worry about the cost, we’ll use your debit card. See you.” As a departing gesture, she undid her shirt and bra, and rubbed her breasts all over my face, then left. My poor cock did not appreciate this inside the Kali’s Bracelet. Eventually my owner came home, slightly worse for wear, and I was sent to bed with the bra still on and the top part of the Baby Doll nightie over it, but thankfully I was released from the wrist restraints. But I was told of another change in rules: I was never to ask to be released from the bra in the morning, that would always be at her discretion when SHE decided it was time. After what had happened when I had asked about being released from the Kali's Bracelet, I decided to abide by this rule.

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Chapter 15.

PMS woes, and George has an experience.

My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth was getting worsening pains during her periods, and concluded that she wanted to share the pain. She decided that, on those days when she had had a particularly bad night, or even was having a painful day, she would contact my Owner, who would tell me that tonight was going to be a PMS night. This was bad news for me, and worse, I had all day to worry about it.
The programme was this: When it came time for bed, instead of getting into my bed, I would be sent into the cage, which was set up in my bedroom. I would be given a hospital pee bottle and a blanket, my CPAP Sleep Apnoea device would be placed just outside the cage, and the hose pushed through so I could put the mask on for the night. I could reach the On/Off button through the mesh. Then the cage would be locked. My Owner would always stay in the house while this was happening.
The cage, although fairly large, was still too small to let me stretch out, so I had to find as comfortable a position as possible. But I was always aching in the morning, when my Owner finally decided to release me. Just as a woman does, I was told.
There were two ‘improvements’ to this. The first was My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth deciding that, when she was having a particularly full blood flow, I should do too. Instead of whatever night attire I would have been wearing, I was instead put early in the evening into the terrycloth nappy, complete with the special nappy pins, with white knickers and pantyliner underneath. The bag that supplied the fake blood to me during the day was placed on top of the cage, and the delivery tube installed into my knickers, as before. At any time of the evening or night, my Owner could come past and just give the bag a squeeze to deliver another few CCs of the red goo to my crotch. I was under strict instructions not to soil the nappy with this stuff, although I had no control over it.
The second improvement was that, when My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth was experiencing unusually heavy menstrual pain, I was to not only be nappied, but also put into the Evil Romper Suit, with instructions to not keep my Owner awake with the sound of bells. Oh how I longed for the end of ‘my’ period, just like millions of women.
Directly after my First Punishment one Friday, I was instructed to make sure that my bladder was empty, and to fetch a kitchen chair and take it into the living room. I was told to sit on the floor, facing the chair, and make myself comfortable. My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth sat down on the chair, and I could see that she had a leather belt with some ‘D-rings’ around her waist. She put George on me, securing him with the buckles behind my head, and produced some straps made from a bungee cord. One end of each was clipped to George, and the other was put near her belt. She blindfolded me before removing her knickers, inserted the business end of George into herself, and then clipped the ends of the cords to her belt, holding George inside her. Now there was no escape, it had about 3 or 4 inches movement. “Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin” I was told. Somehow, that sounded familiar.
I heard the TV come on, and then the soundtrack introducing Midsomer Murders, which is a two-hour programme. Now, whenever My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth leaned back in the chair to give George a straighter run into her, the weight of my head wanted to pull it back, and to pull George out of her. A simple tug on the straps, and George was pulled back in, so setting up a familiar rhythm. This was a long evening, I never came up for air the whole time. And I had to lick George clean afterwards, as usual. On one later occasion, I was dressed in the tiger onesie for this event. The ears waving around must have been something to see. I wondered if it had been filmed. Probably.
This was done on several different occasions, sometimes with me wearing different outfits. Then I was told one night to put on the Evil Romper suit for this. This has integral bells attached, and the resulting noise was indescribable. And all the time, I was encased in Kali's Teeth Bracelet.

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Chapter 16.

The Black Mark List.

I had started to get really annoyed that I could never learn the length of my Black Mark List, if it ever really existed. It got to the point where I was mad enough about it for My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth and my Owner to show some apparent sympathy, so they came up with this. One Friday, they sat me down, and asked how much it really meant to me. Would I be prepared to have extra Punishment if I could learn the size of my list? ‘Yes, depending on how much punishment was involved’. ‘How about ten cane cuts? Fifty?’. This was food for thought. I decided it was worth somewhere between five and ten canings. My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth and my Owner went out to the pub, and when they came back together, they kept me on the Waiting Stool and made the following proposal.
I was to receive a number of cane cuts that matched the digits in my list length, so if it was sixty three, I would receive six cuts, there would be a gap, then I would receive three more. If it was over a hundred, then this would start with one cut, and a gap. A double-length gap would signal the end.
I was told that this had already been decided, as I was obviously keen to learn the number. It would take place the following Tuesday, the normal day for extra Punishment, and after it was over, the number of cuts that I had received would be added to the list.
The next few days were tormenting. When the time came, 7 pm on Tuesday evening, I was ready and waiting as instructed. I was wearing the usual schoolgirl uniform, but with no knickers. This was meant to hurt. I was positioned over a chair and locked to it with handcuffs, then the ball-gag was stuffed into my mouth to keep me quiet. I began to wonder if this was going to be worth it just to learn a number, of whose truth I had no way of confirming. Ah well, I couldn’t stop it now.
A clock was put within my view, and then the first cut was given. Yikes, it hurt! I hoped this wasn’t the one cut for one hundred marks. The second hand of the clock moved past fifteen seconds, and then the next strike came. I was reminded at this point that I should be grateful that the ball-gag meant I didn’t need to worry about begging for and thanking out loud for each cut. Some consolation, but I supposed that I should be thankful for small mercies. There were five cuts, then a gap of five minutes, and finally seven more cuts, and then the final ten minute gap. So the number I had been waiting for was fifty seven. Which was now increased by twelve. My Owner said to me “you won’t want that total to get to one hundred, at that point, it will double. That will keep you on your best behaviour!” My Owner and My Most Illustrious and Worshipful Goddess and Ultimate Mistress Anita-Elizabeth then entered into a heated discussion, just out of my hearing, while I was still immobilised, and then my Owner stood in front of me and said: ”I’m sorry, but there has been a mix-up. We got the number of cuts wrong, you should have received seven and five, instead of five and seven. The number of marks in your book is not fifty seven but seventy five. Sorry about that, at least the count of twelve new marks doesn’t change”. And I had just learned about the consequences of reaching one hundred, which was suddenly closer. Oh, dear. I was released, and allowed to recover before being put to bed. Was it worth it? No, by no means, after all that, and I had no guarantee that it was anywhere near the truth. My backside was barely recovered by Friday evening, when I received my normal First and Second Punishments.

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That is a lot of black marks. 

Quite an interesting scenario - the thirst for knowledge is a hardwired part of human evolution so it was always going to take some resistance to find out the state of play. 

And to have made you think the situation was not quite as bad as it ultimately turned out to be is another level of deviousness again.

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