Dirk's USENET postings, 9 Days in a Chastity Belt

From:         Dirk M.  an544228@anon.penet.fi
Date:         1996/08/12
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.bondage

I just returned from Chicago where a woman locked me in my chastity belt, hid the keys and told me I wasn't getting out for at least a week. After some teasing on her part, and some pleas from me, the week became nine days.

I can't believe I'm really locked in this thing for nine days... Well, I bought the belt, I asked her about it, and I told her I wanted to spend some serious time in it. I guess I got my wish.

Before someone asks, I'll repost the Chastity Belt FAQ file again. It talks about the kind of belt I'm locked in. Then I desperately need some sleep.

Dirk M
(who is feeling horny as hell right now. Always want what I can't have.)

From:         Dirk M.    
Date:         1996/08/15
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.bondage

"Be careful what you wish for," is absolutely right! It's been a fantasy since childhood to be locked in a device like this. Unable to get out, unable to get off, the only keys held by a smiling woman who refuses to unlock it as she enjoys my torment.

When I posted that it seemed so unreal to me. Now it's tough to just forget about it for a few minutes. I can feel it around my waist and between my legs. Every time I go to the bathroom, it's right there. Then I can see the lock that she's got the only keys for. That makes me think of her smile and voice and the taunting and teasing she did before she hid the keys and untied me... and I'm thoroughly frustrated once again.

I went through some boxes looking for reference materials on chastity belts to answer an inquiry and I ended up sitting there on the floor looking at bondage magazines and getting frustrated. I turned on the TV for a while, trying to get my mind off it and happened across an old episode of Buck Rogers on the Sci Fi channel where Pamela Hensley is going to make Buck her husband/slave via a collar. I can't get away from it. I switch channels and spy some attractive bikini babe in some commercial. ARGH!

I've been warned up front that I'm going be tortured on Tuesday. How well I please her will determine if it comes off Tuesday or if I get sent on my way, the keys to be mailed back to me overnight, or standard service, or just whenever.

Yeah, I asked for it. I even told her I knew I was going to get so frustrated that I'd change my mind about three days into it. She got a big smile on her face that told me how much she was going to enjoy this. It's going to be a long time until Tuesday.

Dirk M

From:         Dirk M.    
Date:         1996/08/21
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.bondage

It's been one helluva pony ride and I'm certainly not advocating it for everyone, but if you're a chastity freak, like I am, it can be a lot of fun. If you're going to do it, try the belt out for shorter periods first. Do a few hours and work your way up. Do two or three days so you can get used to the problems involved in long-term wear. Once you've mailed off the keys, or given them to a ruthless, sadistic female is no time to discover you can't handle being locked up for a long time.

Dirk M (Perpetually sleep deprived)

From:         Dirk M.   
Date:         1996/08/23
Newsgroups:   alt.sex.bondage

To reiterate, the device in question is a La Ceinture de Chastete stainless steel high security chastity belt. If you have any further questions, I'll answer as much as I can.

The main characters in this tale are myself and a Chicago professional dominatrix named Victoria. I don't have, and haven't had, a play partner since I bought the belt. I was tired of waiting to do some serious play. I already knew Victoria and we were on a friendly basis, so I proposed the idea that I see her on two separate occasions - one to put the belt on and then again a week later. I took pains to explain that I've worn it for three days continuous and that I was confident I could physically stand wearing it that long. (Psychologically, though...) It would be entirely up to her if and when the belt would be unlocked. She was delighted with the idea and doubly so when I mentioned that I'd managed, with some effort, to deny myself orgasm for a week already. She cheerfully agreed.

On Sunday, August 11th, I went to see her at 6 pm. We got to visiting, as we usually do, and didn't get down to business for half an hour or so. I mentioned that my back was a bit sore and she very kindly gave me a little stretch out on the rack. She then began a campaign designed entirely to make me aware of my cock. (Hot wax, a cock harness, and later Tiger Balm.) Finally, she released me from the rack and ordered me to stand with my hands on my head. Weak and sweating profusely, I staggered to my feet and stood there. She rubbed me up with Flexall (as a "lubricant") and applied the belt. She had a little trouble with the lock, but soon it was on. The Flexall was doing it's job and, of course, I couldn't get to it under the belt.

She had me get on a spanking bench. It's a very comfortable affair; your elbows, knees and chest rest comfortably while wood dowels screw in above the arms so they can't be pulled out and straps hold the legs. She laid on the floor and teased and taunted me for a while. She said she could see the appeal in keeping me like this full-time; I'd be ready and willing whenever I was wanted. I was very aroused, to say the least and began babbling that a week was too long. She told me that if I didn't stop annoying her with my begging it was going to be longer than a week. I shut up.

She then took the keys from the room and hid them somewhere before letting me up from the bench. She told me to get dressed. Looking at her appointment book, she told me I was out of luck; the soonest she'd see me was Tuesday. I had no choice. I dressed and left.

Over the next few days I found out that the nights are the worst. Every night before sleeping I'd become very frustrated and try to get some gratification. At one point I had a struggle session with the belt, trying desperately to find some way to wiggle out of it or to force it open with my bare hands. It ended up in a little whimper and finally sleep.

I went through every spare key I had. I discovered four padlocks I have use the same style keys. I tried the keys one at a time on the chastity belt. It was like some bizarre game of Russian Roulette. Each time the key would go in, but wouldn't turn!

Tuesday and Wednesday I was pretty much down with a mild case of the flu. Fortunately, the pressure of the belt against my stomach didn't bother me, but it did kill my appetite and had me in bed sleeping most of the time. Even so, it was still frustrating.

By Thursday, I was feeling a little better, but frustration was running high. I was having some interesting fantasies, and wrote a short story from one, so the energy wasn't going entirely toward frustration. Still, I would have traded another week locked in for just five minutes out of the belt.

On Friday, I was going through old bondage magazines looking for a particular article. I never did find the article I wanted, but I did a fine job getting myself thoroughly frustrated. It seemed like reminders were everywhere. I turned on TV to try and distract myself. On the SciFi channel there was an old Buck Rogers episode on. The delectable Pamela Hensley was scheming to make Buck her husband/slave via a special locking collar. I couldn't get away from it!

I went out for dinner and a movie. The waitress was very friendly to me. For that matter, every woman I encountered was much more friendly to me than usual. How did they know!? Somehow they must know! Driving to the theatre, I saw a woman standing by her car at a gas station. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt and spike high heel shoes - my favorite.

I was going through some old JPG files of ladies being tickled in stocks at Renaissance Faires. I just couldn't stand it anymore! Desperately trying for stimulation, I suffered a brain shattering orgasm. But it didn't feel right. Checking my suspicions, nothing had come out. I hadn't ejaculated. Two hours later, I was feeling frustrated again. I hadn't cured myself of the frustration at all; I'd only lowered the level of it temporarily.

The following days, I tried to get a few things done around the house, but it was a pretty unproductive time. Even though I was getting used to the routines that the belt dictated, there was still no such thing as a quick shower. It took considerable time to get dried off afterward. I'd pull the belt as far away from the skin as I could and blow a hairdryer under the thing. Follow the drying up with baby powder and I was ready to finish dressing and face the day.

On Monday, I got a scare. The doorbell rang and it was one of my co-workers. He was in the neighborhood and dropped by to see the new place. I stayed as calm as I could and gave him the tour. Before long he was gone and none the wiser. I'd gotten away with it.

Tuesday morning I rose early, showered and started the trip back to Chicago. The day was finally here! I made it there in good time and then proceeded to get lost downtown. And I'd been specifically warned to be punctual. I made it out and to where I was going in time, stopping on the way to buy the bribe of some flowers. She opened the door and said, "Sorry, we're all out of keys today," and started to close it again, but paused as she spotted the flowers. I knew they'd come in handy.

It wasn't long before she was telling me she'd been thinking about it all week and decided that my punishment was going to be in three parts; obedience, servitude and pain. I gave her a massage, feeling very horny the whole time. She strapped me down on a table, put a vibrator on me, and showed me bondage pictures. There were other small tortures, such as the nipple clamps, but then she came along to the pain portion of the program.

I was to be given the choice of three tortures and was given a sample of the first two. The first was "speedy". A variable speed power drill with fabric flaps attached. It was most unpleasant on the inside of my thighs. I could have five seconds of it on the head of my cock. That was choice one.

Second she showed me a little black box with electrodes on the end. Smiling with evil delight, she held it up and electricity arced between the contacts. My eyes must've been open pretty wide when she slowly lowered it to the inside of the other thigh. It hurt. Badly. I could have that on the head of my cock. That was choice two.

She told me there was a third choice, but I didn't find out what it was instantly. I was told that if I wimped out and didn't take one of the three that she'd mail the keys back to me the next day. That would mean that I wouldn't be getting out until Thursday. She told me the third choice was the whip. Five strokes as hard as she could make them. I could see the whip, though not too well from where I was. I wasn't allowed to test it. I chose the whip.

I got onto the spanking bench and was secured there again. She took the trouble to see that the cheek chains from the belt protected my balls. She left me there a moment and fetched the keys. She hung them there in front of me for "inspiration" if I needed encouragement to get through the pain.

Before she began, she told me she owed me one. She explained that she and another mistress had been laughing about my predicament and how she'd sent me off the previous week with the belt locked on over the Flexall and how I had no easy way to wash it off. Her playpartner overheard and decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. She got Flexall in her ass and pussy. I couldn't help myself and didn't want to. I laughed out loud. "You can whip me for it, but I have to laugh." That's what you get for gloating in front of the wrong people. Because she had to suffer the indignities of the Flexall herself, she intended to give me more Flexall after the belt was off. Fine. Sure. It was worth the laugh.

The first blow landed and although it hurt like hell, I knew already I was going to get through it. After the whipping was over, she held my head and consoled me. I glanced over my shoulder and said, "You done back there?" She selected another whip and gave me another three or four strokes before I quickly apologized.

She let me up and told me to kneel with my hands on my head. I did so and she brought the keys and unlocked the belt. I gave a sigh of relief. I looked down and said, "Hi, boys! How ya doin'?" It was Tuesday, the 20th, 3 pm. I hadn't seen my cock and balls unencumbered for 8 days, 19.5 hours. There was some chaffing on the balls on the left side.

I was allowed to take a washcloth and clean up a little before being ordered back into place with my hands on top of my head.

"What makes you think I'm going to hold still for that stuff?" I laughed, hands on top of my head. I was perfectly willing to hold still for it, but I had no intentions of going quietly.

"I'm pretty fast," she said, grabbing the chastity belt keys.

"I'm already out." Got a point there. She quickly began to rub the Flexall on my cock.

"Too late," she said. Got a point there too.

I left there the way I had nine days before - with a nice warm glow in my crotch.

Dirk M

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