Return to 1873: Part 4

Return to 1873: Part 4

by ‘D’

My Diary for December 1873

Thursday, 30th December. Morning

I am still trembling and my crutch burns with what happened to me last night. For my Master decided that the source of my lust would have to be punished, as he judged my carelessness was brought about by its dominating my thoughts so that I was careless about IMPORTANT aspects of my life here.

I blush to think of what he did to me and of my reactions to his punishment. All I know is that the area between my legs is still sore and throbbing and that walking is painful, which will make this afternoon exercise period total purgatory for me. But the time he spent correcting me will remain etched in my mind for a very long time. Never before have I known such mingling of pain and pleasure. He was only too right when he called me a ‘pain slut’ but I am paying for my enjoyment this morning. I am actually glad that I have to wear petticoats and heavy skirts under my cape because they hide the fact that I am waddling like a duck this morning. Even my Master did not over-tighten the crutch strap of my corset this morning – the first time since I have been up here.

But in no other way has he been lenient with me and also I am beginning to worry about how long he is intending to keep me under this regime. Tomorrow night and the morning is going to be the start of the New Millennium, but my Master shows no sign of bringing my stay to an end. I know I asked him to keep me up here for as long as possible. But I had thought he would have freed me from here in time for the celebrations. Of course, being under the Rule of Silence, I cannot ask him about this. He may be teasing me but …………………

Strangely, I slept well last night, even though my pussy area seemed on fire and he locked me in my irons overnight. As I was being locked up for the night, I wondered how my fellow submissive, M, was getting on and what her Master was doing to her. That her Master and mine talk a great deal probably means that she knows what’s happening to me. I just hope and pray that her Master is not trying to balance our situations and is making her suffer like me. (Not that she would object!)

At least my hand seems a lot better this morning. Even so, scrubbing my room’s floor was both backbreaking and painful this morning. My knees seem to be always sore, and my back aches to. But I feel surprisingly fit. At least I got my breakfast this morning; well, part of it anyway; my Master found a tiny trace of dust on the bed frame again but he just punished my by leaving me with just bread to eat, and water to drink. So, corset laced up tightly or not, I am hungry all the time now.

Strange how food doesn’t seem to matter so much when I am wearing my stays. But it gets to a stage where I also start to dream about food, even though I know that – this tightly laced up – I can only pick at whatever food my Master sets before me. Not because it is dull and unpalatable (which is always is up here) but because with my stomach so compressed, eating almost a penance. Two mouthfuls and I feel full. Half an hour later and I am assailed by hunger pangs.

Ah well, I seem to remember reading that a human can last easily for 30 or more days without food, providing he or she has enough liquids. And my Master is always watchful to make sure I do drink enough. So maybe my hunger pains are just make-belief; me thinking I need food when it is merely an unnecessary luxury I don’t really require.

****************************

Thursday Evening, 30th December

My Master says that the entry I made in this diary for this morning was rubbish. I have read it through again and it seems to be a little rambling but not rubbish. But, if he says it is rubbish, it must be.

Maybe being up here for this length of time is getting to me. I haven’t seen daylight for what seems like forever and I am uncertain of the time. I either sleep heavily or not at all. Either way, I am tired when I get up, and everything seems such hard work. Yet when I was exercised this afternoon, I seemed able to climb those awful stairs as well or maybe better than when I first came up here.

What is strange is the mental state I am in as I climb up and down the stairs; I have said how I have to concentrate as I take every step or I am in danger of tripping on my skirts. Now each step seems a challenge that has somehow become something almost of beauty. I feel a surge of satisfaction as soon as I lever myself up to the next thread. It is …………. I was about to say ” almost an orgasmic experience”. But that would be exaggerating. Instead it is a moment of fleeting but intense happiness. Maybe lack of food is effecting me, but I don’t think it is that. It has something to do with the feeling of being owned and controlled up here which is so intense.

I think that as I have lost all right to decide what I can or cannot do, I am focussing on things that I can achieve on my own, and gaining pleasure from each tiny triumph. My Master may order me to climb those stairs, but I have to do it; I have to force my aching limbs to climb or descend each step. I may have lost all vestige of personal freedom, but I have gained something else which I do not yet really understand.

I had been sadly correct when I had said that exercise today would be painful. It was – exquisitely so. I wear heavy flannel pantaloons over my corsets and these reach down to below my stocking-covered knees. They become heavy with sweat when I am exercised and rub against the inside of my thighs. I cannot begin to describe what this is like when the flesh is that area is abraded and raw from last night’s punishment. Yet it was something of a triumph – yet again – for me to be able to ignore or ride over the misery caused by sweat-damp material rubbing coarsely against my poor flesh. Each step caused me to wince yet I was able to carry on. And it was something of a mixed blessing as that area is close to my most sensitive regions which, given my innate predilection for pain, caused me to taste bitter pleasure along with the misery of being so harshly exercised. To be a Sybilienne it IS necessary to absorb sufferings and to feed on them too.

End of Entry 4Entry 5

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