I was struck by a sudden realisation about an hour ago.

I am still locked. I had to pause a moment to let it sink in. This is not like forgetting or somehow not knowing or things being so comfortable that I do not even notice the metal device strapped, indeed padlocked, to my underloins.

No, this was a very different feeling indeed. I was simply going about my daily dailiness, doing the things I always do, making sure nothing is amiss and ensuring all is comfortable and well and secure.

And that is when the realisation struck me, floored me actually.

Not only is this real for me now, it is also normal. My normality has changed.

My mind flew back to my early ham-fisted though well-meaning attempts, with ribbons and chains and that very first device.

How things have changed.

How I have changed.

No longer is it a daily struggle, nor longer a fight against a raging beast struggling for release. There are, of course, uncomfortable days, when perhaps exercises have been too strenuous or the mugginess of the atmosphere has engendered some discomfort. But I realise now that this is not due to the device. None of that is due to being locked in chastity. All of it would have happened any, in some shape or form.

Being locked in chastity has simply become part of my day, part of my weekly routine, just part of being me.

And then I got to thinking really seriously. What kind of Mistress would persevere for a year and a half with someone struggling to be locked in chastity? What kind of devotion and dedication is that?

And that is what floored me.

Have no doubt about it, Mistress is a very special person indeed.



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