Sandra felt the game had gone too far. The contract had been fun, but she really could not spend the next four and a half years being denied access to her own breasts and genitals. It was absurd.
"I need the keys," she told the female assistant in the Fantasy shop, in a rather hushed voice.
"Keys to what?" the girl asked.
Sandra looked around, anxious that no one could overhear.
"To a chastity belt I bought here, and another thing I'm wearing."
"I see," the girl replied, "what name is it please?"
"Invincible, I think - I don't know the model number offhand."
The girl smiled. "No sorry, I mean your name."
"Oh, it's Houlton - Sandra Houlton."
"Thank you - I'll get the file out," the girl told her.
"I think we might need something stronger than a file, I've tried that," Sandra told her. The girl looked blank. "Just a moment please...oh, here we are: Houlton, Sandra, Miss. That it?"
"Yes, that's me. Can you give me the keys now?"
The girl shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
Sandra frowned. "How do you mean - don't you keep keys here?"
"Only for keyholders, you're not the named keyholder on this file."
"Well that's ridiculous," Sandra tried to keep her voice down, "It's my chastity belt - I paid for it, or am paying for it under a lease contract - so the keys should also belong to me."
The girl was unmoved. "I'm sorry. You know you are under contract, surely - you remember signing?...look," she showed her the file, "this is your signature."
Sandra smiled. "Oh that. Well, yes, but that's just a bit of fun, to enhance things a bit. It's not meant to be taken seriously. I need these keys today. Please get them for me."
"I can't do that Miss, sorry. The contract has another four years and five months to run yet. The belt cannot be removed other than for maintenance arrangements which.."
Sandra laughed aloud. "Are you mad? No-one could possibly spend that amount of time in a chastity belt."
The girl shrugged. "We can't cancel contracts just because someone changes their mind. What would be the point in having a chastity belt anyway, if you could just let yourself in and out of it as you want?"
Sandra was irritated. "Look, I don't want a lecture from the likes of you. Yes, I know that was the idea of the contract, but its just fantasy stuff, not legal."
At that a middle-aged man in a suit came out of an adjoining office.
"Having problems Deborah?" he asked the girl.
Deborah nodded. "This lady's not quite sure about her contract, Mr. Blake. I told her about the contract but...
He waved his hand. "Okay Deborah, thank you. Perhaps the lady would like to come through to the office. Would you like to come this way?"
Sandra would have liked to come any way she could, but that was the problem.
"Please, sit down," Mr. Blake told Sandra. "How can we help you?"
Sandra blushed slightly. "It's a bit embarrassing - I'm in a chastity belt, and I want to get out of it."
"I see," he replied, "any particular reason?"
Sandra was surprised at his question. "What? Are you serious?"
"Perfectly. You would need a very good reason indeed. Medical grounds would be one. Pregnancy would be another. Frankly there aren't many others. None, in fact."
Sandra felt she was talking to a madman. "You can't keep me in this chastity belt against my will."
"Oh I'm afraid we can, Miss Houlton. We have your signature on the contract."
Sandra made a face. "Not that again. That was just a game...a fun thing. It was exciting for a while, but not legal...surely?"
She was beginning to doubt her own argument now.
"Perfectly legal, yes, I assure you. Of course you may wish to have your solicitor confirm that."
Sandra thought for a moment. "Oh...I get it - you think I would be too embarrassed to go to a solicitor, and call your bluff."
"And would you? Be too embarrassed, I mean?"
Sandra wasn't sure. "I might be. Then again four and half years is a long time to be in a chastity belt. I might just skip the solicitor and go to the police."
He smiled. "Your prerogative of course. Even more embarrassing, I should have thought."
It would be. "You're really saying this contract is legal?"
"And binding, if you'll forgive the pun. How's the breast-blocker performing, by the way?"
Sandra flushed crimson. "I want that off me too. There's nothing in your 'contract' about that."
He shrugged. "Depends on how you interpret the contract. The aim is to prevent sexual stimulation, of any kind. Your mentor thinks you are promiscuous, devious, and unwilling to embrace the true meaning of chastity."
--------------------
On her way out of the shop, a young man in a suit stopped her. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, "have you er..got a minute?"
Sandra looked wary. "Well, it depends how you mean. What's it about?"
He looked round before answering her. "Could we talk outside?"
Sandra looked at her watch. "Okay, I could do with a cigarette actually."
He led the way out of the shop. Sandra offered him a cigarette but he declined.
"I couldn't help overhearing in there," he began, "you see, I work for the company, so I know what goes on. The thing is, I might be able to help you.."
"You have access to keys?" Sandra interrupted.
He looked apologetic. "Well, I don't think we could go that far, to be honest..no, I just thought that it obviously must be difficult for a girl in your circumstances to have a boyfriend. Please don't take that the wrong way. Look, let me ask you straight out - I wondered if you might have a drink with me one evening."
Before she could give any answer, he began again. "See, working for the company I know your little er, 'secret', consequently I understand the situation. It would be just on a friendly basis, I wouldn't want..."
"Sex?" Sandra smiled cynically.
"Well, I was going to say I wouldn't want to put any pressure on you ...about anything really. I mean, we're both adults, we understand the situation. Why should we let any technology stand in the way of..."
Sandra held up her hand. "Er, time out. Can I get a word in here please?"
"Sorry. I just meant.."
"Look, I'll have a drink with you. You don't need to do an impression of Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral. Frankly we don't need either occasion just yet, as you pointed out. Although you do look a bit like the said actor."
He, Paul, was good-looking. She, Sandra, was interested.
The restaurant was quiet, it was early. So was Paul, and Sandra was glad he was already in situ, drink in hand, sitting on a high stool at the cocktail bar.
"Hi," he greeted her. "Thanks for coming."
"That's okay, I could do with a night out with anyone."
"Thanks. What can I get you?"
Sandra looked around distractedly. "Gin and tonic please."
The barman was attentive, heard the request and sprang into action.
Sandra glanced around again. "We can't sit here, on stools," she whispered to Paul.
He looked at her quizzically. "No law against it?"
The barman glanced over, and Sandra smiled mechanically. She whispered to Paul again. "I'm telling you I can't sit on a high stool - I can't wear trousers and I don't think this skirt is long enough."
He glanced down. "Looks quite a long skirt. Is there a slit in it?"
She dug him in the ribs, still smiling at the barman. "There'll be a slit in you shortly," she hissed, "if you don't take me to sit down somewhere else."
"Sure," he agreed, "Calm down. Could you bring our drinks over please?" he asked the barman.
"Sure, be right over."
Paul led Sandra over to a quiet table in the corner.
"That better?" he asked.
"Yeah, much better. Sorry, I get paranoid sometimes."
"About what?"
"About anyone knowing, you know. It's embarrassing, even talking to you about it."
"Your chastity belt, you mean?"
She nodded. The waiter set the drinks down and Paul gave him a tip. They were alone again.
Sandra sipped her drink.
"Are you okay?" he asked her, "you look a bit flushed."
"Yeah, I'm fine. As I said, it's just embarrassing, knowing that you know what I'm being forced to wear under my skirt. Having my intimate areas under lock and key. You must think I'm nuts or something."
"No, not at all. I think the whole idea's rather charming really."
"Really? You mean that? In what way?
Paul sipped his drink. "I dunno...it's like a return to really old-fashioned virtues, modesty, innocence, feminine charms being held back..that sort of thing. Intriguing really. Quite beguiling."
"It's a control thing, maybe that's what you like," Sandra replied.
"Possibly," he shrugged. "Maybe that's what you like too."
Sandra was still nervous. "You can't see anything?" she asked.
He looked round. "Not particularly. Should I?"
"On me, I mean."
He looked her over. "I haven't got x-ray eyes. You look fine on the outside."
"Good. Only, there's been a development."
"A development? Like what?"
Sandra drained her glass. "You don't know?"
He looked blank. "No, should I?"
"You work for the company - you know what they're doing to me?"
"Basically, yes. But I'm an accountant, not some creative sadist. I'm not privy to the latest creations. You mean about the breast-blocker? I heard about that."
She shook her head. "Look at me, what do you see?"
"I told you - you're an attractive young woman, out on a date, that's all."
"You can't see what's underneath?"
"Look, what is this? You know I know stuff about you. I can understand you're embarrassed, humiliated. I thought you liked that?"
She took his hand and placed it on her knee. "See my legs.." she told him. He looked down, the long skirt covered her legs but he could see the outline. "See my knees are about what, six, seven inches apart?"
"So?"
"Well they're locked like that. They locked my legs together, with metal straps and rods. I can't open my legs any further than this, nor can I close them."
Paul drained his glass. "I'll go get some more drinks. Doubles."
"Just bring the bottle." Sandra sat back. She was still stunned from the day's events. She'd had the letter for a week before they did it to her. Today, of all days it had to be; when she had a date, but was struggling to summon up the courage to go out in public.
Her mind went back to the letter from the company:
With regard to your chastity contract and in particular the security measures required to enforce it, we write to inform you of a new proposal to increase these measures.
Extensive research, over a number of years, has shown that some females find that by spreading their legs as far as possible, it may in some cases be possible to ease the pressure on the front plate of even the most redoubtable chastity belt. Obviously this could lead to a temptation to explore or experiment further, and without recourse to intimate detail, our company finds this possibility totally unacceptable.
Following a consultation with your mentor, Miss Jay, we propose to instigate measures to restrict the extent to which your thighs can be separated or 'spread', if you will allow the expression. These measures, described below, will we feel go a long way to obviate this temptation. In your case we have decided on a very strict limitation, allowing only sufficient stride as is necessary for day-to-day pedestrian activities.
Paul returned with the drinks. He sat down beside her and stared down at her skirt, still slightly baffled.
"You can't open your legs further than that?"
"Shhh," Sandra reproached him, "I don't want people to know that, do I?"
He frowned. "Er, no, I suppose not."
They started on their drinks again.
"And you can't close them either?"
Sandra lit a cigarette. "I thought you'd like that one. No, I can't. Well, not completely. Not when I'm sitting down. Well, not any other way either really. It's complicated, you'd have to see this arrangement to see how it works. I might show you later."
Paul shook his head. "Jesus, if anyone got close enough to hear this conversation..."
Sandra looked away. "If anyone could see under my skirt..."
Paul thought for a moment. "I'm amazed you can walk. Your legs are fastened together?"
"Not exactly. I've got steel bands round my thighs, they are linked to a rod, that keeps my thighs a set distance apart, and stops them opening too wide. The rest of my legs can stride - although it's a mincing walk."
"Aha, that explains it."
"What?"
"Well, I did notice the walk. I thought it was your high heels."
Sandra nodded. "Five inch heels. Yes, that does give me an excuse to walk like I'm on eggshells."
"You wouldn't normally wear them?"
"I wouldn't normally wear any of this, would I? Unless I was forced to."
"You signed up for it all?"
Sandra sighed. "Back to square one. To be honest I didn't realize your company was so efficient."
Sandra showed Paul the letter describing her thigh bands.
The two bands will then have a linkage arrangement, to hold the thighs a pre-determined distance apart, and prevent spread. The link shall be a short stainless steel rod, again with a permanent fixing to the bands, but with a swivel link where it fastens to each band. This will give the required latitude to aid walking, but will make it impossible for the thighs to spread apart.
The exact length of the linkage rod is to be be determined on site, in our workshop.
"Are you ready to order sir?" the waiter asked.
Paul pushed the letter into his pocket, flustered. "Order what?"
Sandra laughed. "We're in a restaurant, remember."
"Oh, yeah, sure. What do you recommend?"
"The chicken chassuer is very good tonight sir," the waiter advised.
"What - chicken in a chastity belt?" he joked.
Sandra went red, but she laughed.
"Two of that then."
They sat down to dine.
"Put your hand up my skirt," Sandra whispered to Paul.
"What?!"
"Go on, it's okay. Look, the truth is, I always get a terrible shock whenever they do something new to me. Then I get over it...get into it. I want to share it with someone now, someone I feel safe with. Please, reach under the table and grope me. No-one will know."
Paul glanced around. The other diners seemed unaware of anything.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, quite sure."
He reached under the table, gathered Sandra's long skirt up slightly, and pushed his hand up past her knees.
"Jesus," he whispered as he encountered the thigh bands and the connecting link that held her thighs together.
Sandra stared at him triumphantly. "Told you. Sorry I can't open my legs any further for you, you can see why."
He withdrew his hand and looked round sheepishly. "No wonder you were a bit wound up before. If the people in here knew this.."
Sandra shrugged. "I've got the hang of it now, I think. The high heels were a good idea - the company's idea, of course."
Paul was still thinking about what was under Sandra's dress.
"That linkage rod is quite short, isn't it?"
"Oh yes. Three inches maybe? They messed about with it all afternoon, trying this, trying that...seeing if I could still walk, but making damn sure I can't open my legs that much. I'm their guinea pig I think. Mr. James reminds me of that inventor in 'The Dambusters' film, you know - sort of embarrassed about plotting to cause mayhem, but giving it all he's got just the same."
"It's a challenge, I suppose," Paul agreed.
"Oh sure, for him and me. It's funny really, we probably both have the same ethic - ie that if it's going to be done, then let's do the best possible job."
"Easy for him though."
"I suppose so. He's a nice man, I don't hold anything against him."
They ate their meal in silence for a few moments.
"In all the years you've worked for the company," Sandra asked Paul, "have you ever seen a girl in a chastity belt?"
"Nope, not a live one. I've always been fascinated by them though, on girls."
Sandra thought for a moment. "I've got an idea. Pretend you've dropped your knife, then dive under the tablecloth, put your hand right up under my dress and feel my belt. Do you want to?"
He did. "Yeah, I'd love to."
Paul practically threw his knife under the table, then went to retrieve it. He could see Sandra's lovely legs and the high heels. He held up her dress with one hand and groped around between her legs with the other. The light wasn't good but he could see the thigh bands, then the front plate of the chastity belt. It was awesome.
He had to reach over the connecting rod to touch the front of her chastity belt. He tentatively touched the front plate, marveling at it. Where there should be the gusset of her knickers, there was hard, shiny steel. How bizarre. Up top, Sandra shivered slightly as she felt his hand down there. The vulva shield transmitted little of the sensation it, as was its purpose, but it excited her nevertheless, just to know Paul was looking right in between her legs.
It was over in seconds.
"Is everything alright sir?" the attentive waiter asked.
"Er, yeah - I dropped my knife."
In his fascination, Paul had not even retrieved the knife.
"Allow me sir,"
Paul froze as the waiter dived under the table. Sandra instinctively tried to press her legs together, but she couldn't. Paul couldn't remember whether he'd flopped Sandra's dress back down again.
"That's it sir," the waiter handed Paul the knife.
"Enjoy your meal sir, and you Miss."
The waiter moved on and Paul let out a sigh of relief.
"Jesus, that was a close one."
Sandra laughed. "Who cares? Anyway, what did you think?"
Paul couldn't finish his meal. "Don't ask. You've got a fabulous pair of legs. I could have rented an apartment under that table and lived there for ever."
"Thanks, that's nice. Do the other things enhance them?"
"Like you wouldn't believe. I'm stunned. The chastity belt looks awesome. Isn't it uncomfortable?"
"Sometimes. I do get sick of it at times. Mostly though it's fine. In fact it's like that old joke - we could get rid of that hump. And Quasimodo says, what hump? I'm so used to it you see."
"Some hump. I need a brandy. Can I get you something?"
"I'll have the same, thanks. First I need the ladies' room."
Paul watched in fascination as Sandra minced off to the ladies' room. The things women could cope with, it put men to shame sometimes, he thought. High heels, corsets, bondage. There were other eyes watching her as she made her way past tables. Little did they know what made her walk in that sexy way.
Then he had the pleasure of watching her walk back. To him.
"Do I get to take you home then?" he asked.
"Sure, I couldn't possibly walk there."
"Not like that you couldn't."
She drank her brandy. "Tonight's been great, thanks. I wasn't confident about the new things they put on me."
"You're okay now though?"
"I think so. I'm glad I've got the weekend to acclimatize though. I never want anyone at work to find out about this."
"Think they will?"
"Not really. I've got away with it so far. I'm glad Mr. James used this linkage thing, instead of a chain to fasten my legs together. It would have rattled or chinked when I walked."
Paul paid the bill and they took a taxi. He was about to go home alone when Sandra invited him in.
"You don't have to.." he told her.
She smiled. "That makes a change - someone telling me I don't have to do something."
"I'm not dominant, you should know that," he told her as she opened the door to her flat.
"That's okay, I get enough of that from other people. As long as you understand about...well, about my needs."
"Sure, it's fascinating."
Sandra made some coffee.
"You want to see me, in all my glory?" she was emboldened by wine and brandy.
"How'd you mean?"
"Well, with my clothes off, and all the devices they put on me."
"On a first date?" he queried. "It's not usually my style."
"I can tell that" she told him, "you're very nice. But I want to show you, please."
"If you must," he joked.
Sandra stood up. Before I do this, you know that these things are very effective, and that I can never have sex with you, even if I wanted to? Well, not for about four years."
"Yes, I understand that. I knew that from the start. I wouldn't have asked you out if I thought it would be a problem. Just be yourself, don't worry about me, I'm fine, I'm having a great time."
He was too. Sandra took her clothes off. Paul let out a low whistle.
"Jesus, what a body. Maybe the company's right, that should definitely be under control."
"Oh it's controlled alright," Sandra told him. She demonstrated. "This is to stop me, or anyone, touching my breasts. This.." she put her hand over the front of the chastity belt, "..is to stop me touching myself 'down there', or to stop anyone from having sex with me. And this, the latest addition..." she demonstrated the locking thigh-bands, "...stops me even from opening my legs."
"See?" she showed Paul, "I can't get my thighs apart any more than this. Legs make an apex, and the tops don't need to move as much to walk. That's the theory anyway."
It was the first time Paul had seen these amazing devices so clearly. It was almost shocking to think they had been out in public and behaved so normally.
"I love to go out with all this under my clothes," Sandra admitted.
She sat down, still naked, on the coffee table, facing Paul. Her knees were kept exactly six inches apart at all times. He stared, mesmerized, down the entrancing valley of her bare thighs, past the linkage rod and at the front plate of the chastity belt.
She reached out and lifted his head, to look into his eyes.
"Without the keys, there's nothing we can do, you know that?" she whispered, "I'm terribly sorry, it must be awful for you."
He nodded dumbly. "We could kiss?" he suggested.
Sandra leaned forward and pulled him toward her. They kissed, gently at first, then more passionately. Finally he pulled away, breathless.
"I don't want to excite you too much," he explained.
"You already did. Think we can handle this?"
She sat next to him on the sofa. "Now there's two of us in this madness," she told him. "I'll understand if you want to back out. I can't."
"No, it's fine. It's intriguing, and so are you. I thought you were sick of it though - after what I overheard in the shop earlier today."
Sandra smiled. "It seems to have moved into a higher gear, another league. I can't explain it. I was maybe looking too far ahead. I do need that commitment though. I'm practically shaking with pent-up desire right now, but maybe that desire, that thrill, wouldn't even be there if I wasn't being controlled like this. Can you understand that?"
"Just about. Maybe we ought to go to bed..separately I mean."
"No wait - there's something else you ought to know. As it is now, you're stuck with a woman who can't even open her legs, or let you feel her breasts; but even later, after the four years is up, I don't know if I'll be able to do sex."
"Course you will - nothing to stop you then."
"No, I'm serious. You don't know how they're working on me, mentally and physically. My sexuality's being tampered with, trained out of me, if you like. I'll be so inhibited I won't be able to do it, I just know. Another four years of this and they'll have achieved the aim of the contract."
Paul took some things from his pocket.
"What are you doing?"
Making something to smoke. You need to chill out.
Sandra shook her head. "I don't do that stuff. You go ahead, I'll put some music on."
"That Carlos Santana?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's called Smooth."
Somewhere in the lyrics, there was a line, ..I could change my life, to better suit your mood...
Then, ....give me your heart, make it real, or else forget about it.
Sandra fell asleep on the sofa.
[ Return to parts 3 and 4 ]
[ To Story Conclusion - Parts 6, 7 and 8 ]
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Page last updated 00-Nov-26 by: Altairboy@aol.com