This journal includes in its title the words, 'no leniency', as will all future journals. I mentioned in my last journal that I profoundly evolved through the two-year period of the Covid lockdown. That evolution eradicated from the deepest corners of my mind any remaining shreds of leniency and uncertainty I ever had for my slave husband, while pursuing the most fulsome, decadent, wicked pleasure.

There are chains always padlocked around each of his ankles and a metal collar padlocked around his neck, his tiny chastity tube double padlocked on, obviously. He can bathe and shower in all these items. The cane and whips are on a hook in the sitting room often brought briefly into action for a number of reasons, or just because I can. I have him bend over and hold his ankles to receive between ten and twenty hard strokes of the cane or dressage whip. That is quite often followed by me bringing myself off, driving home to him the huge difference between my lavish, satisfying and abundant, cuckolding sex-life, and his frustrating, frugal and barren one.