Lissa Daniels

Chapter Twelve

Added 2024-01-19 04:27:11 +0000 UTC

My name is Leslie. I have been a badgirl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me.

There is no space between the words “bad: and “girl”. Ten minutes addedTen minutes added to your time-safe countdown.

“Punish” has been mistyped. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

The “Y” in “My” should not be capitalized. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

Leslie was openly weeping, tears rolling down his face. He had been typing this stupid phrase for over four hours. At first, he had tried committing to it, typing it as carefully as possible while still maintaining speed. He was a proficient typist, but he soon realized that the backspace key was disabled. Every typo he made, no matter how little, was being added to his countdown clock. The clock determined how long he had to stay in the horribly tight, constricting cage that had already grown painfully tight.

His eyes darted over to the LED display of the box on the table next to him.

000:13:06

Thirteen hours. The time-safe had seven extra hours compared to when he had started on this stupid punishment.

And that was FOUR HOURS AGO… Oh god… I have to get this cage off…

The “o” in “to” is missing. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

000:13:15

Oh god…

He throbbed in his cage as he sniffled his runny nose. He dared not stop to wipe it. The last time he had stopped had added more time.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening to me.

My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie.

He had no idea how many times he had typed the stupid phrase. He had tried to copy and paste, but the command was blocked when he tried, resulting in more time added to his clock.

He had to type slowly. Which meant it took longer. At first, he had been doing each phrase in about twenty seconds. But the more tired he got, the more typos he was getting, which made him slow down. Now, he was lucky to get through one in a full minute.

He shifted in his seat, feeling every article of overly feminine clothes restrict and tighten around him like a vice. He throbbed in his cage again, feeling liquid ooze out of himself into the unyielding cage.

Stop fidgeting, Leslie. This is your last warning.

She is relentless…

He felt his breath hitch as his fingers twitched, and an extra period was added to a sentence.

There is an extra period in that sentence. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

He wanted to scream. He had. It had cost him more time on the safe.

Leslie had never in his life felt this helpless and trapped. Every aspect of his life felt out of his control, and even squirming in his seat was being punished. His eyes darted back briefly to the clock.

000:13:33

It was getting worse and worse. His eyes were so tired and sleepy. His hands hurt from typing. The little clock in the top right of the computer screen read: 1:15. It was one o’clock in the morning, and he was still typing this stupid punishment phrase over… and over… and over…

I will see this phrase in my dreams… if she ever lets me go to sleep…

He knew he had to figure out a plan. Some way to stop this. But the relentless correction and the ticking bomb of time being added to his chastity imprisonment had short-circuited his mind. He felt the tear on his cheek roll down and sanguinely drop down onto the cage between his leg, which then released its own tear of sorts. He knew his chair must be a wet mess between the combination of tears and arousal.

My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me.

I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I give up. I’m so tired, and my hands hurt and…

My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish me. My name is Leslie. I have been a bad girl. I need to be punished like a bad girl. Please punish em.

The word ‘me’ is misspelled. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

“Please, Mistress, I can’t do this anymore…”

The soft, whimpering voice that left his mouth made him feel even more helpless.

Continue typing your phrase, Leslie. This is the punishment you earned by being a bad girl.

“But Mistress…”

Any further objections will result in additional time on your time-safe countdown.

He whimpered again, his little member throbbing in the cage and leaking again. The words were still arousing despite the exhaustion and agony he felt in his hands.

Time ceased to be. All that existed was the soft, steady tap-tap-tap of keys, the pitiful sniffles of the Sissy making those taps, and the words. Words repeated over and over. Words that defined what he was.

His eyes started to close, his brain so tired and drained from everything.

My name is Leslie. My name

That is not the correct sentence order. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

His eyes sprung open as if he had fallen asleep driving and swerved off the road. Adrenaline kept them open for a moment, but soon, the droopy feeling returned with more corrections.

The word “been” has been misspelled. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

Whimper, sniffle, squirm.

There is no “o” in “punish”. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

Sob, sniffle, squirt.

You have stopped typing, Leslie. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

“...please…”

Objections are not allowed during this punishment. You have been warned. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

Tears stream from his sleepy eyes as his fingers slowly continue to tap.

There should be an “S” in “Leslie”. Ten minutes have been added to your time-safe countdown.

His water-filled eyes look up at the last sentence where he had misspelled his own name. Somehow, that typo felt the worst of all.

That is five hundred times, Leslie. Good girl.

“Oh, thank god…” he sobbed. His hands went up to wipe the tears from his eyes. He wanted to get up out of his seat. He wanted to never look at this computer again. Yet, part of his brain was genuinely worried about moving without permission. Every little mistake for the last four-plus hours had been corrected. Did he dare stand up?

His eyes flew to the time-safe to look at the timer.

000:16:42

He felt his breath hitch. Sixteen hours more! He already felt like he was going crazy inside of the tiny cage. His hands moved down to tug at it helplessly. The little pullout plastic bits made it impossible to slip out of and just a little painful when he tried.

His fingers traced the line of the cage, teasing the trapped member inside. It throbbed helplessly, wanting more than anything in the world to grow big and explode.

He felt so trapped in every way.

It is time for you to get ready for bed, Leslie. You have stayed awake past a responsible bedtime to do your punishments.

He felt himself throb in the cage at the thought of having a bedtime.

What the fuck is wrong with me? How can I be aroused AND feel this abused and trapped?

Please go to the counter and retrieve the following items:

Leslie scurried to the counter even as the voice continued to rattle off item after item that he needed to get. By the fourth item, he had already lost track and frantically grabbed all the incredibly girlie creams, brushes, and tools into his arms.

It is time to get ready for bed, Leslie. We will begin with your scheduled evening beauty routine. Please carry your items to the bathroom, and we will begin.

One hour later, Leslie emerged from his bathroom. His face felt soft, wet, and squishy with all the various soaps, creams, and oils he had just applied. His scalp hurt due to the one hundred brush strokes he had to do to his shoulder-length hair. His hair, normally a tangled level of chaos, was now straight and smooth. His mouth tasted weird from the whitening strips. Worst of all was the tingling he felt in his lips from the goo he had rubbed on them.

More than anything, the thought that kept going through his brain was how much he smelled like a girl.

Please remove your heels and get into bed, Leslie. I will set your alarm for your morning routine.

Leslie heard the words and knew he should be worried, but his poor, tired, overstimulated brain could not process anything more. His feet ached as he stepped out of the furry shoes. He wanted out of the constricting top he was wearing. He wanted to tear off the satiny negligee wrapped around him. More than anything, he wanted out of the cage.

I can sleep for sixteen hours, and then it will be time to open the safe.

The thought drifted through his addled brain as he crawled into his bed. He was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.