I see quite a few references online to Loctober. It seems submissive males who are in chastity must be locked for the month of October and I am assuming; without being allowed any orgasms during the month.
Firstly, am I right as to my interpretation of ‘Loctober‘?
Secondly, what about those submissives who are always locked, EVERY month, and are not allowed more than one orgasm per month anyway, or no proper orgasms ever? Will they be suffering in additional ways to normal in October? If yes, in what ways?
(In case you missed it, in this previous post about bitch-boy’s chastity I did include a couple of photos of his birth defect confined in its double padlocked cage.)
By coincidence I did decide to write a journal entry all about bitch-boy’s chastity regime for the next journal I am already working on. Here is an extract from that draft journal entry, (it is not yet proof read). I hope it is of interest.
So, he is in his double padlocked chastity cage every hour of every day except when it is removed because I wish to be humiliating him or teasing him and such like. Or when I have him wash and shave himself, with the cage removed three or four times a week. I think it is CRITICAL that these are not times for him to get hard briefly and play. He has to feel my regime is 24/7/365 and that there are absolutely ZERO moments of freedom. He does not own his birth defect; I do! I know this is the most subjugating and affecting style of chastity control. I have three routines for the cleaning.
Two are mundane. One is I either sit and read a book in the bathroom while he does so, or, two, I set up the baby monitor in the bathroom and can relax elsewhere in the house with the monitor screen and he is, or knows he might be, being monitored. Should he get an erection of any sort, in either scenario, he is punished severely. I do not tease him to promote an erection and he never gets one.
The third cleaning routine is rather a trial for him! It does not involve shaving. I sit him in an empty bath with his ankles secured together with a braided pet collar and his wrists secured to the D-ring on the front of the rubber collar around his neck with another braided pet collar. I can well recall the last time I did this about three weeks ago. I had him so bound. I was in everyday wear. He began to whine and plead and looked so upset when I had finished binding him.
‘It’s no good whining like a little bitch is it? It’s going to happen because it amuses me I’m afraid. And we do need to keep your little birth defect nice and clean don’t we. But we don’t need it getting all hard do we! Like, no doubt, it used to every single time you washed it, before I took control of it.’ He stopped his pointless noise but looked at me with sad, pleading eyes. Just that look wakens my cunt. I love it; especially when I ignore it and carry on. It was a breezy cool morning which was great.
I reached for the cold tap and he pleaded briefly as I turned the tap, (faucet – USA), and the cold water flowed into the bath and began to cover the bottom surface. he made a noise of sorrow. The tap was only open a little. I spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
‘There, not too much at once. We don’t want you suffering thermal shock do we.’ I walked over to the window and opened it wide. The cool breeze entered the room. He let out a long sigh that ended with a sort of sob. My cunt was getting wet!
Of course, I did not open the tap fully to avoid thermal shock. I opened the tap only a little to drag out the misery for my puppet. The cold water slowly, slowly rising up his legs and butt. Slowly working its way up and up. And all the while, the gusts of cool breeze making it worse for him. I stood and looked at him with my hands on my hips and a mocking, amused smile on my face.
‘Poor puppet. Your Mistress is so mean to you isn’t she. But that’s your life isn’t it.’ He simply stared up at me with his sad, pleading eyes, occasionally whimpering as though I did not know what he was enduring. I spoke brightly.
‘I’ll see you in fifteen minutes or so little pansy.’ I walked out. I had not had any intention of masturbating but this activity is soooo mean…………..
Carrying a large jug, and with an extra sweater on, I returned to him after about fifteen minutes and after a glorious orgasm. The bathroom air was now cold and the cold water was just above his naval. I turned off the tap. He seemed on the point of shivering. I felt like such a bitch. Delicious! I scooped the jug into the water and poured its contents over his head to be sure he would be very cold when he stood. In shock, he let out some very quick, hard breaths. I put the jug down and freed his wrists and ankles. I passed him the nail clippers.
‘You can cut off the plastic padlocks bitch and remove your cage and wash yourself.’ He did as I had instructed him. He was so cold and his genitalia were tiny. I again stood and looked at him with my hands on my hips and a mocking, amused smile on my face. He washed his genitalia with soap and water. He was quick. He wanted his miseries to end. I had other ideas and I waited for him to look up at me indicating he was done. He did so. I spoke with a little irritation.
‘Sit back down then. You can’t rinse your VERY little birth defect up there can you.’ He looked so sad and took a moment to summon the will to sit in the freezing water. But he did not test my patience and so he did. He made noises of misery once sitting down. My tone changed to heavily scornful.
‘Well you’re always hinting at the wish to be free of your cage to play with yourself aren’t you. You can now. Go on, play and make it all hard. I give you permission to do whatever you want. Bring yourself off; I won’t mind.‘ He did not move. We both knew he was so very cold and his defect so shrivelled and numb that an erection would be impossible for him. My tone was disdainful with an amused edge.
‘Go on play with it. Tickle your balls at the same time. You have begged to be free of your cage so often. Now you are and you can play. GO ON!’ He began to tug and squeeze at himself; full of misery and shame. I chuckled derisively.
‘Is that it? So pathetic. So it would be pointless me giving you freedom from the cage to play wouldn’t it. I have done so now; and you can’t even get the little thing hard. Get the cage back on!’ He did so and I handed him two of the uniquely numbered plastic padlocks I had brought with me in readiness. As soon as the second padlock had clicked shut, I walked out.
My recently published Journal. Click on this link for details.