Yesterday was the one week anniversary of my Prince Albert piercing. Tiny (my wife’s name for my dicklet) seems to be healing fine.

Yesterday was also the first day in a week that my wife / Mistress / keyholder did not choose to have at least one orgasm for herself.  It was a hectic day and she had a lot on her mind by the end of it.  I felt bad that she missed out on the sexual pleasure I know she enjoys so much.

Last night she raised the idea of me riding her pony again, this time with a larger butt-plug, if we had one.  She said she just wanted to watch and that I should take care of all the details.  She wanted me to pretend that she wasn’t there.  We only had one other suitable plug, which turned out to be a little longer but probably not wider.

I got naked for her, then lubed and plugged my ass.  For a little extra fun I strapped on a ball gag and blindfold as well.  Her pony took me for a good long ride.  Keeping my balance on it means moving around quite a bit on the butt plug, which is pretty intense.

Later she told me she ignored me some of the time. It felt both humiliating and erotic to be her personal sex show, which she could pay attention to, or not, as she desired.  This is not the first time she has asked me to “put on a show for her”, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Tonight she’s got plans to turn tiny into a candy cane.  I have instructions to buy some food coloring on the way home.  Using cotton swabs, she’s going to dye my cockette red and green.  It sounds like the coloring will last for several days.

Update:  tiny is now red and green.  I also have one green testicle and one red one.  And my ass says “Ho! Ho! Ho!” in big red and green lettters, which my wife says also reinforces what a whore I am.  She enjoyed painting me so much she went on to wax my back.  She loves to play with wax. It doesn’t hurt as much as a 10 gauge needle through your cock (thankfully), but it still hurts in certain spots.  But she enjoyed herself, and that’s what matters.  I am, however, genuinely frightened that she talked about practicing a brazilian waxing on me.

Over the next week or so I’m planning to whittle down our final chastity device choices.  I think it’s down to about three options, perhaps only two practical choices considering the prices.  As I get closer to requesting her final approval, my nervousness increases.  This is finally it — a truly secure chastity device, one that she intends for me to wear 24×7, and probably x365 as well.

Until now, chastity has been more of a game, and the lack of security has always felt like an “out” to me (although I never took advantage of it).  All of that is about to change.  She will control all the keys, and I will literally not have access to my cock anymore without her permission.

It’s a little scary, because in the past there would be times when everyday life would take over and shift our attention to other things, sometimes for weeks or months.  In the past, I’d just take the CB-3000 off until she wanted it back on (which sometimes didn’t happen for a long time).  I would also “take care of my needs” (a euphemism for masturbating whenever I wanted).  Her focus was elsewhere, and it didn’t seem to matter.

With the new device, regardless of whatever else is going on, the CB will be locked on me.  If her attention is elsewhere, she certainly won’t be thinking about my cock.  It will just stay securely locked in it’s little steel cage.  In a very real sense, my penis will not be mine anymore.

But that is how it should be.  I’ve given myself to her, and that means she gets to decide when and if she will utilize me.  As for my dicklette, she is clearly getting a lot more enjoyment lately out of ridicule and humilation anyway, as opposed to touching it or letting it penetrate her.

Actually, it will be even easier for her to make fun of my useless cock when it’s trapped in a metal cage and never gets any bigger than about two inches long.  It’s strange to accept that my wife would rather laugh at my limp dick-flesh than attempt to use use it for her own pleasure.  Strange, perhaps, but true.

Recent events have included: me wearing women’s panties every day; her buying women’s clothes for me; a PA piercing; an imminent secure CB purchase.  So I am already a pantied and sissy husband, and we’re about to add “enforced chastity” to that description.