The chastity belt

Coaxing my lover in to it for the first time….

Patrick heard the front door, and ran to greet her. He went to kiss her but she pushed him away. “Not now, Baby”. His eyes fell on the bag bearing the name of her favourite lingerie shop, and he looked pleadingly at her.

“Sorry, darling, I don’t trust you to behave, unless you’re undressed with both wrists handcuffed to the top of the bed” He stared at her. “The handcuffs are on the bedside table. I’m off to make a coffee”.

Jane smiled sweetly and disappeared in to the kitchen. He weighed up the situation rationally. He should really just follow her in to the kitchen, have a coffee and ignore her carrier bag. The rational analysis was still in his mind as he walked through to the bedroom, frantically ripped off his clothes, found the open handcuffs, closed one pair around each wrist, laid on the bed, and closed their other ends around the bars of the bed head, to the noise of the coffee machine from the kitchen. He regretted this instantly, having not even paused to pull a sheet over himself, and realising he really did need a coffee. He felt totally vulnerable as she walked in with the bag in one hand, a large mug of coffee in the other.

She put her coffee down and sat next to him, her silky dress brushing his leg. She reached in to the bag, and looked at him, enjoying the suspense. She pulled out a black bra and pants (nice), a new scarf (he sweated and shook at the thought of its silky material around his wrists), and a small whip (which he eyed with horror). She put them all to one side.

“I’ve saved my favourite till last”, she announced. “See if you can guess”. She pulled a corner of the garment out of the bag; thick black material. She gradually revealed more, explaining as she went: “Darling, these used to be made of metal, but this is made of kevlar, like a bullet proof vest. It’s flexible and comfortable but very hard to cut. The waistband locks here, with this little key”. He salivated and stammered “Y-you mean you’re going to wear a chastity belt to stop me doing you?”. She answered his question as she tilted the garment to reveal a downwards pointing tube shaped insert sewn in to the crotch. “No, Darling, I’m not going to wear it”. He recoiled in horror, and involuntarily crossed his legs, gripping them tightly against each other. “Uncross your legs, Baby, or I will have no option but to try out my new whip on you”

He didn’t obey her instantly. She could have gently coaxed him, but she decided to assert her authority to ensure his compliance with the fiddly procedure that was to come. She whipped the outside of his thigh hard, several times, ignoring his screams, then stopped to admire her handiwork: red marks, lots of tears running down his face, legs still loosely crossed. She grabbed his scrotum, gently at first, but very slowly increased her grip on it. “Now, is baby ready to open his legs really, really wide?”. He sobbed, and spread his legs wide apart. “Gooood boy. I knew you’d get the idea. Now, lift your bottom so I can slide this underneath”. The garment’s front undid from the 2 ends of the belt, allowing room to fit him in to the hard plastic tube before locking the whole thing up. He whimpered in horror as she pushed the garment underneath him, pulled the ends of the waistband round to the front, then reached between his legs and lifted the front peice. She encountered her first problem. The tube was quite narrow and pointed downwards. He was quite wide and, despite the smacks, pointing upwards. She considered the ice thing that had worked so well before, but decided that a pleasurable experience might help the process in future. She sat herself astride his right thigh, leaned forward and nibbled his right nipple, and did him with her right hand, catching his forceful ejaculation neatly in a wad of tissues in her left hand. She continued to pump vigorously until he begged her to stop and she felt him go soft. As he laid motionless and exhausted, she quickly pushed him downwards in to the tube, pulled the frontpiece up to join the two ends of the belt section, tightened the ratchet adjusting mechanism until the whole thing was firm against his body, and snapped the lock shut. She had been too busy to orgasm, but the sound of the lock clicking shut bought him to the horrific realisation of his plight, and she, sitting upright on his right thigh and seeing the expression on his face, was hit by and awareness of her total domination and of his leg against her clitoris. She instantly orgasmed, rocking gently backwards and forwards to prolong it for minutes. As she looked in to his eyes and enjoyed his look of total helplessness, she simply couldn’t stop screaming until exhaustion eventually overtook her.

She collapsed on top of him, and lay motionless whilst he wriggled around. Eventually she told him to sit up, arms still locked to the bed frame, reached for her coffee cup and shared the drink with him, neither speaking as he was too fearful and she was too content.

After 10 minutes she broke the silence: “Is it comfortable, darling?”.

“Yes, it feels strange, but not uncomfortable”.

“Goooood”. She stood at the bedside and pulled her dress off over her head in one easy movement, revealing her other purchase, a stunning basque and stockings, then climbed back on the bed and snuggled next to him, mouth against his ear, silky breasts teasing his arm, stockings rubbing his legs. Her hand strayed across his front, feeling the thick material with hard plastic beneath. He saw her hand, but felt nothing. “Are you sure it’s comfortable?” Tears ran down his face and he let out a low, distressed moan. “Sorry, baby”. She moved away from him, found the keys to his handcuffs and released him. She pulled her dress back on, took him by the hand, and matter of factly led him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet. He looked up at her, puzzled. “It’s easy, baby. You’ll notice there’s a hole at the back. What you may not have noticed is that the tube is open at its end, between your legs. You’ll have to sit, of course. The material is water repellant so you can shower and dry it easily”.

The implications slowly sank in. He looked up as the question formed in his mind, but she interrupted him with her answer: “Until I decide to take it off, Baby. Now, let’s check that you can pee, then we’ll get you dressed and take you out to the party. All my friends will be there. You like my friends, don’t you?”.

Her Friends were more than he had bargained for. He would have found them a handful without his present impediment. He’d met a couple of them before, and word had got around about the strange foreigner who was reputed to be capable of (by the time the stories were exaggerated) several relationships at once. He wasn’t sure about the specification of the fancy dress. The men hadn’t bothered. The women were all makeup, hair, cleavage, slit skirts, fishnets and underwear showing. They danced, giggled, chatted, and were inexplicably desperate to practice their English, but were disappointed that the man who was guaranteed to flirt with them didn’t. He was polite but quiet, and spent most of the evening hiding behind the woman who had brought him.

She was amazed at how subdued he was, to the extent that she was a quite worried by the time they got home. He clung to her, looking sad, quiet, and in need of a treat. She ordered him to undress, go to the toilet and clean his teeth, and then chain his left ankle to the base of the bed, with a nice long chain that allowed plenty of room for movement. She left the room for a minute, and came back having removed her dress, and carrying a key which she placed on a table, out of his reach.

“Darling, you were such a good boy at the party, I may have a special treat for you, if you continue to behave. Oh, you never said, do you like my new underwear?” He did like the new underwear, so she kept it on. She had planned to unlock him straight away, but she was fascinated by his new garment, and wanted to explore its possibilities. She laid him down and massaged him, then told him to massage her. He was passive, obedient, willing to do anything for release. She was intoxicated with her sense of power; the thought that she could make him massage or lick for as long as she wanted, he unable to refuse and she able to have it for ages with no sense of obligation to satisfy him. At last, totally content, she said “Thanks Darling, that was wonderful. Let’s go to sleep together now”. He looked at her, crestfallen, helpless, tears running down his face. Goodness, she would have to be careful not to over use her new power. She would have to get him used to this before making him go overnight. After letting him cry for a minute, she smiled, got up and fetched the key.

After unlocking him she dried his tears and they snuggled, chatted, and as his confidence came back they did each other slowly, taking ages to several gentle orgasms, the length of the chain allowing him to almost forget that his ankle was still captive.

The following morning he woke to the clank of a coffee cup and a quick kiss on his cheek. She had walked out of the room by the time he came to and looked around. On the tray with the coffee were a red rose, the chastity belt, its instruction book, and a note:

“Darling, I think the first day of your new morning routine might be easier with me not in the room. Enjoy the coffee, then when you have the belt on and securely locked, give me a shout and I’ll pop through and release your ankle. Love, Mistress xx”.

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