The honeymoon is over. Welcome to the cold, clinical reality of the cage. In Part 2, we leave the excitement of arrival behind and enter the grind of a TPE routine. From trough-feeding and ‘positive Stockholm Syndrome’ to the ‘Gag or Game Over’ ultimatum, this is where the boy’s citizen-ego truly begins to dissolve into a Master’s property.
2026 Reflection: The New Routine
In Part 1 of ‘The 24/7 Experiment’, we saw how the experiment kicked off – the thrill of the new, the first set of rules, and that initial phase of testing the waters. But anyone who truly lives TPE (Total Power Exchange) knows: the real challenge doesn’t start with the first strike. It starts the second the door clicks shut and daily life takes over.
In this second part, we’re leaving the “honeymoon phase” behind. Playful curiosity is replaced by a harsh, almost clinical routine. We’re diving into the days where Stephan – or what I called my “piece of mud” back then – had to learn that dominance isn’t an event you just switch off after a few hours.
For Stephan, this chapter meant a radical reduction to the absolute basics: the cage, the trough, and total dependence on my whim. For the first time, we pushed the limits of isolation. While I went about my regular life outside – giving lectures and meeting friends – his entire world shrank down to just a few square meters.
Looking back now, with two decades of additional experience under my belt, I have to admit there are things I would handle differently today. But to truly understand the evolution, we have to dive headfirst into these raw days of April 2005. Welcome to the reality of the cage.
The Diary Part 2: The Clinical Routine – The Cage, The Trough & The Breaking Point
Slave Stephan (2005): First services
We woke up around 14:00. He asked if his “piece of mud” was doing fine and if I’d slept well. I answered “well” to both. Then, I licked his feet again, just as he ordered. When my Master finally got up, I followed him into the kitchen, crawling on my knees. Once there, I was allowed to stand up while he showed me exactly how he likes his morning coffee and where everything is kept.
As soon as he finished, it was back to my knees. He locked the collar around my neck, snapped leather cuffs onto my wrists and ankles, and pulled a leather mask over my head. The eye slits were patched shut, and a gag found its way into my mouth. He then fixed me in a spread-eagle position and left me to wait. Blindfolded and bound, I lost all sense of time.
Suddenly, I felt my Master again, heavy and intense, torturing my nipples. About 20 minutes later, I felt the weight of a whip resting on my shoulder. He stepped away, came back shortly after, and began caressing me with the lash. He ordered me to count every single strike, loud and clear. It started off okay, but with every lash, the pain intensified. I counted bravely. Feeling the welts rise was incredibly arousing – a heavy, burning pain, but so intense. Every ten lashes, he gave me a short break, caressing me for a moment. After 30 lashes, he took photos. Then he unchained me, only to lock my arms and legs together again, forcing me to kneel at the wall. It was anything but comfortable. I struggled against the chains, hearing my Master amusing himself as the camera shutter clicked again and again.
About an hour later, he released me and we went to the bedroom. He removed the gag and the blindfold. He asked how his “little piece of mud” was feeling. I was doing great; I licked his legs through the mask before he took it off and ordered me to lie on my stomach.
A moment later, I felt his fingers inside me, relaxing me. Then, he pushed in and fucked me rough. I was still a bit tense because it felt overwhelming and unfamiliar. After a while, he paused, and I was allowed to cuddle with him – it felt amazing. By the time he fucked me a second time, I was much more relaxed.
Then, the final shift: he plugged me, put me in a harness, and locked me into a chastity belt. I was “prisoned” in the cage. My collar was fixed to the bars with a chain, and the cage was double-locked. I lay there like a dog while the Master took more pictures. Then he left to settle some things. Spending those 90 minutes in the cage gave me a lot to think about. I actually liked the cage; it gave me a strange sense of security.
He didn’t release me until after 23:00. I crawled to him on my knees and started licking his feet. After serving him for an hour in front of the couch, we went to bed. I had to sleep on the floor beside him, chained like a dog. The plug and the chastity belt were incredibly uncomfortable and painful, keeping me awake for a long time.
MasterMarc (2005): Imprisoned Thursday
Yesterday was Wednesday. I visited friends for an hour and a half while the slave found his residence in the cage. For the first time, the slave was alone for a short period – chained behind iron bars and isolated from the environment. For me, this time was a test to see how he could handle imprisonment and loneliness. When I came home, I saw that the piece of mud was enduring the isolation very well. He had mentioned before that he was looking forward to being locked away when not needed, but I wanted to be certain – especially since I had to work the whole day on Thursday.
He spent the night chained to the floor beside my bed. Shortly before 08:00, the slave had to be ready to lick me, give me a blowjob, and serve my coffee. I never eat breakfast, but a large milk coffee is a non-negotiable part of my morning routine. Since moving in, the slave has only had my piss to drink. Every morning, he receives the leftovers of my dinner along with a bowl of water. I kept his feeding time short, so the trough was still half full when I locked him back into the cage. The pig was provided with a sleeping bag and a large PET bottle in his “guest room.” I chained his collar to the bars and secured the locks. The bottle was for his piss – but it had to be empty again by the time I returned. It was 09:00 when I left the apartment.
Even though I passed by the apartment at lunchtime, I resisted the temptation to check on the little piece of mud. I didn’t return until 18:00 and was impressed by how well he had handled the solitary confinement. His earlier claims weren’t just idle talk. After letting the slave welcome me intensely, it was time for him to finish his breakfast. To ensure the contents weren’t too dry, I refined the trough with my piss. It was a sweet sight – seeing his snout press into the trough and rise again, soiled with a mix of tomato sauce and piss. In that moment, the name “hog / pig” felt entirely earned.
I covered him in verbal abuse while he fed and ordered him to bark three times once the trough was sparkling clean. This level of humiliation – especially the barking – clearly offended him. The first “break-out” since his arrival followed: he raised his voice in a way that was completely out of line. I didn’t immediately react with punishment; we are still building trust. Instead, we had a calm conversation where I asked if he would accept such behavior if he were in my position. The situation cleared up. To bring him back into the fold, a phase of physical closeness followed. I made it clear once more: the phases of affection and regard will diminish over time, while the physical and mental demands will only become more intense. He knew that, and he wanted that.
After these statements, I couldn’t resist pushing him to his limits. Using the “Flex” (Velcro restraints), I fettered him so he couldn’t struggle and used him physically. When I sensed he was reaching his limits – starting to doubt his progress and wanting to stop – I held the rubber gag in front of his snout. I said: “You take this gag in your mouth now, or we stop this test right now.” I was 80% sure he would take it, but there was a real chance he might break. It’s better to find these things out early.
He took the gag resistantly but by his own will. I continued to use him, working him over with fingers and dildos before fucking him hard. Later, after I released him, we had a calmer evening talking and watching TV. I didn’t want to overstretch him, so I gave him a choice for his earlier outburst: 30 lashes tonight or 40 tomorrow. He opted for tomorrow. After a full day on the hard floor of the cage and reaching his mental borders, I allowed him to spend the night in my bed.
Slave Stephan (2005): The Day in the Cage
At 08:00, the alarm clock rang. The Sir released me and brought me into his bed, where I was allowed to cuddle with him and lick his feet. After that, I crawled to the kitchen on my knees and prepared his coffee. Once he finished, I got my breakfast from the trough: pasta with tomato sauce, leftovers from my Master’s dinner the night before. Then, I was chained back into the cage. He gave me a sleeping bag and an empty PET bottle in case I had to piss. The bottle had to be empty and the cage dry and clean by the time he returned in the evening. Then he left and switched off the lights. I was left behind in total darkness.
The first few hours I tried to sleep, which worked quite well until I had to piss for the first time. I used the bottle, but because of the chastity belt, some of it missed and ended up on the floor of the cage. I licked the floor clean before emptying the bottle. I fell asleep again until about 14:00, when the hard floor became too uncomfortable. I tossed around, and soon I had to piss again. This time, even more ran onto the floor. I started licking up the puddle, waiting until the floor was dry again before lying back down. I tried to sleep more, but it was impossible – I didn’t know which side to lie on anymore. My whole body was aching.
I estimated my Master would be back around midnight, but he arrived at 18:00. He let me out of the cage and allowed me to eat the rest of the pasta from this morning. My Master refined the meal with his piss just as I took the first bites. It tasted even better now. When I was done, I had to lick the trough until it was sparkling before washing it for the final cleaning.
Afterward, I crawled to the bedroom and kneeled beside his bed. Eventually, I got permission to slip in, cuddle with him, lick his feet, and give him blowjobs. Then, he ordered me to lie on my stomach. He started to fuck me very hard, but I began to restrain myself because it felt unpleasant. He immediately tied me up, pushed back inside me, and held a round gag in front of my snout. His voice sounded vigorous as he told me I could either continue to resist and the test would be over right now – or I could take the gag and behave like a real slave.
I took the gag, and he fixed it. He used a dildo to relax me, followed by an inflatable plug that made me feel incredibly wide. When he’d had enough, he went to the living room. I followed him in doggy-position. While he watched TV, I licked his feet, his ass, his balls, and his cock. Suddenly, he started playing with my nipples and striking my balls with a riding whip. At first, I reacted a bit defensively, but I composed myself quickly. Later, we talked about my day and my “adventures” in the cage. As a reward, I was allowed to sleep in his bed tonight.
MasterMarc (2005): The First Regular Day
Even though I had an unusual meeting on Friday morning, the alarm clock rang again at 08:00. The morning ceremony – spoiling the Master by licking, blowjobs, and the preparation of my coffee – was already working like a well-oiled machine. Before I left for my meeting, I chained the piece of mud in the kitchen and entrusted him with the task of cleaning the entire space. When I returned, the slave wasn’t quite finished, so I let him continue. I started my own work with the TV coverage of the Pope’s funeral playing in the background. Once the slave was ready, we talked and cuddled for a while, analyzing his sensations, expectations, and his overall development.
Afterward, the slave was allowed to start his diary. He was tasked with documenting his experiences since April 5th – sketching out his thoughts, feelings, and a review of his “cum-times” and self-imposed rules. Regarding the cum-times, there wasn’t much to report: since his arrival, a chastity belt has prevented any ejaculation. His last release was before he joined me.
I interrupted his writing for another spoil-and-fuck session. I was full of passion and fucked the piece of mud violently, deep and hard. Once I reached satisfaction, the hog was allowed to go back to his diary.
Before 17:00, I showered and got ready for a two-hour lecture I had to give that evening. Before leaving the house, I chained the hog standing to the wall with a collar and leather cuffs on his wrists and ankles. A black textile sack was pulled over his head and a ball gag squeezed into place. Nipple clamps completed the scene. Defenseless, chained, and blinded, the hog was left to wait for my return – without any idea how long I would be away.
When I returned at 19:30, I knew the slave expected me to unchain him immediately. Instead, I simply passed by and nipped him softly just to check if his reaction was still appropriate. Then, I sat down in the living room and caught up on the news to familiarize myself with the day’s events. Only after that did I release the slave from his unpleasant situation. Since we were still in the process of getting to know each other, a small feedback phase followed in my bed, where we shared some tenderness.
After 23:00, I left the house again for a beer with friends at “Männerzone.” During that time, the slave was back in his “room.” Cage-carriage is – and will always be – the suitable way to keep this species, in my opinion. When I returned, I watched a bit of TV. The slave was fetched from the cage and allowed to lie on the floor near the sofa. He spent the night chained to the floor beside my bed.
Looking back at this Friday, I am surprised by how quickly the slave-existence and life with Stephan has become routine. We have both accepted this new way of life as the right one for us. I certainly won’t give up my social life, friends, or mutual visits. The slave’s life has changed completely – he has essentially no life of his own anymore. While I, as Master, certainly pay regard to my slave’s needs, I don’t show that to him – at least not clearly. It is important that the slave knows I am intensely taking care of his well-being, even if I often attend to his “unwell-being.”
Slave Stephan (2005): The Day of 40 Slashes
As the alarm clock was ringing, it was 08:00 again. As usual, I licked my Master’s feet and prepared his coffee. The Master had to join a meeting, so I spent the meantime cleaning the kitchen. My collar was attached to a long chain fixed to the wall. When my Master returned around 10:00, I was still cleaning. Once the kitchen was ready, I got my breakfast. Again, it was the leftovers of his dinner from last night – an escalope with pasta al pesto. He had already chewed it for me while he was having his dinner yesterday. After eating, I had to clean my teeth and wait for him in the bedroom, down on my knees. There, I was allowed to spoil him. After that, I got the order to write this diary, describing all the previous days. It is now 16:30 and I’ve been writing since 12:30. My Master has to leave soon, and it seems I’ll be chained to the wall while he is out.
Yes, I’ve been chained to the wall again. My legs spread, the collar fixed by two chains from above, and my arms in the normal position, chained on both sides. He put a gag into my mouth and a silk sack over my head. Finally, he put me in tit-clamps and left. I was standing at the wall, chained and surrendered – the tit-clamps were hurting like hell. But I felt that pain as a very lustful feeling, which I really need. After about 15 minutes, the Master came back. He had been shopping. Before he left again, he took off the tit-clamps because he didn’t want to leave me alone for several hours with the clamps on my nipples yet. Then he left again, and I stood there – defenceless, chained to the wall, and completely surrendered. It’s uncomfortable, but lustful to have these feelings. After more than two hours, MasterMarc came home. Again, he didn’t release me immediately, but only after I had been chained for another hour. The feeling became even more lustful then.
When he finally released me from the wall, he directed me to the living room and took off the gag and the sack. I was allowed to lick his feet and his cock. He went to the bedroom and I crawled behind him. On the bed, he let me spoil him from head to toe – I licked and massaged him. As a reward, he fucked me so hard afterward that I really had to suffer. But it is so lustful to be surrendered to someone who takes what he wants from you. He really fucked me very hard.
Once he was ready, he showed me what to expect on Saturday: 50 slashes! He told me he will also bring the cane into action. Then I had to lie on my stomach again because he wanted to show me how the cane feels by giving me one or two slashes. The pain satisfied me and I felt that need for pain again – this dependency on the well-being of my Master. These feelings are what I’m looking for and what I need.
Now my Master was leaving again. He placed me into the cage and locked it. I fell asleep for a while. When MasterMarc returned, he let me out of the cage and told me to crawl to the living room because he had another reward for me. It was chocolate mixed with potato chips in my trough. I love both, but at that moment, I wasn’t hungry. However, I licked the Master’s feet and cock to thank him for this reward. He told me I could fetch the mat, make myself comfortable beside the sofa, and watch TV with him. We talked a bit while watching. Suddenly, he told me to kneel upright. He stood in front of me, pressed his cock into my mouth, and started to piss. I started to swallow. This beverage tastes so good to me – I love to drink directly from the tab. After that, we watched TV for a while longer before going to bed. I lay down on the floor to the right of the bed again, fixed with a chain to my collar. The floor is my empire. It pleases me, the floor!
2026 Reflection: The Freedom to be Unfree
It is always fascinating to see how quickly a slave can adapt to a completely new, extreme lifestyle. This transformation only works because the loss of self-determination isn’t an imposed state – it’s the fulfillment of the slave’s deepest inner need.
In the heat of the moment, Stephan’s immediate consent is irrelevant. But the overarching consent is unshakeable. This is Consensual Non-Consent (CNC), the very foundation of BDSM slavery. Unlike historical slavery, no one is forced into this. A slave is a slave because he wants to be one. It’s the paradox of making a free choice to surrender that freedom to find ultimate fulfillment in submission.
Even if the choice “Gag or Game Over” might seem harsh to some, these options are vital. They remind the slave that he is in a self-chosen state of servitude. He shifts from being a “victim” to being an accomplice in his own enslavement. The topic of CNC is probably big enough for its own dedicated article, don’t you think?”
For me, long-term trials primarily serve to check if someone carries this need for submission deep within their DNA. To find out, the factor of time is irreplaceable. In a normal session – even in extremely unpleasant situations – a slave always has an internal countdown running; he knows he’ll be back in “freedom” in a few hours. Time works for him – it’s his safety net. In a 24/7 trial, I let time work against him. You stretch the hours until the countdown in his head stops. Only then does the slave stop waiting and start accepting the situation as his only reality. He no longer lives for the “after” – he only lives in the “now.”
My life has changed since 2005; I work from home a lot now and even have an office inside my dungeon, allowing me to be present as much as possible. Yet, periods of isolation remain crucial. I am glad, however, that today we have far more technical options to monitor a slave’s well-being and safety discreetly.
Even though you limit a slave’s speech in daily life, communication remains essential. You need those windows of time to talk about what’s happening – especially about emotions and sensations. That is the only way to understand and “read” your slave better. It gives you the security to act on his behalf without even asking. As I always say: even if specific situations may look like abuse, the overall experience must never be abuse.
MasterMarc
