Back in June of 2024, when the scale flashed almost 240 pounds, I hit my personal breaking point. Three years earlier I had gotten myself down to 204, and seeing those numbers climb again felt like a punch to the gut. I was frustrated, embarrassed, and honestly angry with myself. Even something as routine as putting my chastity device on had become a struggle—my own body resisting me in more ways than one.
That’s when I made the decision: I’m going on Zep.
Injectable. Commitment level: maximum.
What I didn’t expect was the five-month wait before I could actually start. The medication just wasn’t available. Five months of dieting, cleaner eating, trying to get my A1C, cholesterol, and blood pressure under control—basically running in place while watching the calendar and my motivation slowly evaporate. After all that effort, I weighed exactly the same and my numbers hadn’t budged.
Then, finally, Zep stepped onto the stage.
Week One & Two: The Honeymoon
My first two injections were so uneventful I almost thought I’d gotten lucky. No major side effects, no stomach rebellion—just a quiet hope that this would actually work.
Week Three: Reality Arrives
By week three, it hit.
My stomach felt like a stranger had moved in and redecorated without asking.
Food didn’t taste right anymore. My appetite dropped off a cliff, and what I did want to eat became strangely specific—almost instinctual.
And alcohol? Absolutely not. I’ve enjoyed tequila for years—really enjoyed it—and suddenly I couldn’t even get past the smell. One whiff and my body said, “Nope. Not today. Not ever again.” That one shocked me more than anything else. It felt like losing a long-term friend who’d never wronged me.
Week Four: The Side Effects No One Mentions
This is where it got complicated.
For years, our relationship—mine and Cass’s—has included chastity as a steady, grounding, erotic constant. But somewhere in week four, something shifted. My sexual energy plummeted. Fantasies that normally lit me up barely sparked. Even my strong drive to be her oral boy—the thing that usually overrides everything—went dark.
And because Cass hadn’t started Zep yet at that time, she didn’t fully understand where I was or why my behavior had suddenly changed. From her perspective, it could’ve looked like I wasn’t interested… in her, in the blog we’d planned, in us.
Truth is, I barely had enough motivation to get myself to my real job. The idea of working on a blog—our blog—felt impossible when I was fighting just to feel like myself.
Was I disinterested?
Had I changed my mind?
Did I need a hug, a spanking, or both?
Even I didn’t know that month
