I wish tedium didn't turn me on but it drives me wild. Being forced to spend my night in the corner with my nose to the wall while everyone else has fun going out. Drudgery and chores while a domme puts her feet up. And lately, I'd become fixated on the idea of writing lines. Endlessly writing out the same line over and over again, a complete waste of time, a boring, monotonous task that would achieve nothing but leaving me frustrated.
I'd messed around with dommes online and paid them to give me lines, but knowing I could just put the pen down and walk away always ruined it for me. I needed some motivation to keep me tied to my desk, writing away, with no option but to continue. That's when I had the idea. I shuddered and tried to UNhave the idea, but it wouldn't leave my stupid sissy head.
Eventually I cracked and reached out to a domme who specialised in exploiting sissy losers - Goddess Tamara. She loved my idea and got to work writing up a contract. I whimpered and thanked her, then tried to get some sleep.
I woke up to a message from Goddess Tamara explaining we were all set. I was shaking as I agreed to a Skype call her with that evening. I went to work and could barely concentrate. On the way out the door, a few colleagues wished me a good week off. If only they knew...
I arrived home to find a large box on my driveway marked 'LINEWRITING KIT'. I quickly brought it inside and gasped when I opened it. Inside was a pig ears headband and ridiculous piggy nose. There was a gigantic pink dress made of lace and frills that barely came to my waist. Which meant I'd be showing off the fluffy pink diaper with 'I FAILED POTTY TRAINING' written across the front. I shuddered and got dressed.
I 'admired' my ridiculous reflection in the mirror. The dress had 'Writing Lines is Less Scary than Talking to Girls!' written across the chest. I somehow blushed even harder. I couldn't believe how ridiculous I looked. My skype started ringing. I begged myself to slam the laptop shut and get out of this horrid outfit. Instead I pressed 'accept call'.
"Hi Piggy! Why, don't you look cute! Curtsy for the camera and give me a big smile."
I curtsied and smiled. Goddess Tamara smirked and took several photos. I whimpered.
"Relax, piggy - you know our agreement. No one will ever know that you secretly long to be a pamper-packing pig - so long as you write all your lines like a good silly swine."
"Yes Goddess Tamara. Oink oink!"
"Let's review the contract shall we?"
"Yes please Goddess Tamara. Oink oink!"
"Good piggy!"
She emailed me the document. The rules were clear - I was to pay Goddess Tamara a thousand pounds immediately. Then i had to write 10,000 lines of Goddess Tamara's choosing. I had until midnight next Sunday to complete my lines. If I failed to complete my lines by the agreed date, then Goddess Tamara would share the photos she'd just taken of me all over the internet, email my employers, and everyone in the contacts list of my phone. If I completed the lines in time, she would have to destroy the photos.
"All look good to you piggy?" Goddess Tamara asked sweetly.
"Yes Goddess Tamara," I said nervously. "Oink oink."
"Well, I have a special surprise for you piggy!"
I let out a scared little oink as she sent me another page of the contract.
'To keep the piggy focused, it will spend the nine days in strict chastity in a cage of Goddess Tamara's choosing. Goddess Tamara can demand chastity checks whenever she wishes. Every second between the demand and a photo of the chastity device securely on the piggy will be another dozen lines added to its total that needs to be completed'
I gasped, making Goddess Tamara giggle. "Keep reading piggy! You're wasting good writing time."
'My diaper and outfit are not to be changed or taken off until the lines are complete, to help me focus. I am to wear wrist ribbons covered in eight loud jingle bells apiece. The ringing of these bells will be a constant soundtrack to my line-writing.'
"Isn't that sweet of me piggy? Letting you write to music?"
"Y-yes Goddess Tamara. Oink oink."
Otherwise, no distractions of any kind will be allowed. All line writing is to be done in the conservatory, with no television, music, or other entertainment. All meals are to be consumed off the floor without use of hands, pig-style. The piggy may clean its teeth, but showering and washing will not be allowed until all lines are complete.'
"Someone's going to be a very stinky swine!" cheered Goddess Tamara. I whimpered again.
'A live webcam will be on at all times to monitor the piggy as it writes its lines.'
"Well piggy?"
I whimpered and downloaded the updated contract. Before I could stop myself, I'd signed my name.
