Ah, the sweet scent of a Bank Holiday. For most, it means BBQs, questionable lager, and forgetting what day it is. For me? It’s an event. A sacred tradition. A high-stakes, one-bid-only, no-going-back, soul-twisting Chastity Auction.
As all my loyal key-locked minions know, Bank Holiday = potential release. Potential being the operative word. I give them hope. And then I watch it flicker.
This time, I offered something truly wicked:
“Highest bidder gets 24 hours of release. One bid only. No do-overs. No hints. No whining.”
And the best part? I changed the rules after they submitted. Because, well… I’m me.
(Also: two tried to bid in riddles. One tried to send cake. Nice try, pet.)
Yesterday’s lucky winner — bless him — has been messaging me every hour since:
“Mistress, is it real? Is this really happening?”
Even considered ringing his mum to see if he’s breathing normally.
Is it real?
Hmm.
Haven’t decided yet. Might let him sweat a bit longer. Or forever. We’ll see.
Meanwhile, my delightful little golden enthusiast from last week (you know who you are, puddle pup) has apparently discovered a whole new side of himself and now won’t stop sending updates like:
“Thinking of you whenever I hydrate.”
Honestly. It’s like I’m running a hydration cult now.
Dungeon’s been buzzing this week — literally. New delivery of remote-control toys arrived and I’ve been experimenting with my “Zoom zap roulette” game. It’s got three settings:
- Curious
- Committed
- Crying
Guess which one’s the most popular?
Anyway. Must dash.
Two caged boys to tease, one confused release-winner to torment, and a tray of glittery pegs to disinfect (don’t ask).
Lessons learned this week:
- One bid is plenty when you know how to make it sting.
- Desperation is the sincerest form of flattery.
- Hydration kinks are… a slippery slope.
Until next time, pets —
Mistress Eve
(Still holding all the keys. Especially yours.)