Nursing a Cause

First, let me introduce myself. My name is Danny, I'm thirty-two, and I work at a medium-sized regional hospital as a nurse practitioner. I've worked the midnight shift there for about seven years.. Though I have been offered other shifts and promotions, I prefer the owl shift - it's usually quiet, there aren't many managerial issues, and it gives me plenty of time to indulge in my favorite activities.

One of those is chastity play. Over the years I've tried numerous devices, but none has better security and wearabilty than my Neosteel CB. The people at Neosteel were easy to deal with, shipped their product quickly (despite my asking for a couple of custom mods), and were most helpful on adjustment issues. All in all, a very positive experience dealing with them.

The only issue I have had is the lack of a keyholder. I've used several approaches for short-term denial, like mailing myself the keys, etc. Until recently, my personal best was two weeks, when I went to visit my mom and sister last year and left the keys at home. I found these measures interesting, but unsatisfying since the keys were always only a short wait away.. Even the two week stint could have been easily defeated by just cutting my visit short. I've always been leery of the online keyholder services...

The area I live in is small-town Bible-belt, so I had resigned myself to these short interludes of denial. That all changed about 5 months ago or so, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

One of the things about working the owl shift is that you usually get to see and train newly hired staff. One Thursday morning last September, the nursing director called me into her office to inform me that the following Monday I'd be getting a new face. Nothing unusual here, except that Cynthia was working at one of our sister hospitals about 50 miles away and was coming to us under a small cloud.

I had heard about this nurse (the medical profession is close-knit and rumor factory to boot). Apparently she'd had an affair with one of the doctors that went south and now they couldn't work together peacefully. No rub there for me, I'd treat her professionally until such time as she didn't let me. By the way, Cynthia was also a nurse practitioner, so she'd be great help on the floor if she stuck.

The following Monday evening, I met Cynthia before clocking in. Blonde, blue-eyed, and attractive without being drop-dead beautiful. She was what I call ‘professional friendly', cordial with a hint of aloofness. She turned out to be a better-than-average nurse too. There wasn't so much a need for training as just showing her the way we did things here that were different from her last job. Things went smoothly for a couple of months, she fit right in, liked the owl shift, and was doing great. She remained ‘professional friendly' though. I chalked that up to the issues from her last position.

Then in November, just before Thanksgiving, I was wearing my belt to work. The uniform I wear consists of white uniform trousers with a pull over uniform top hat hangs well below the waist. It's perfectly suited to CB wear. Anyway, though I started out feeling great, as time wore on I started feeling lethargic and nauseous. Cynthia had been working the other station meandered down and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. "Danny, are you alright - you're pale as a sheet." She herded me into one of the exam rooms and got my temperature, bp, and pulse asking me the usual questions. "Danny, I hate to tell you this, but you have an early case of the flu... "

She bustled off and came back with an hypodermic nd a prescription for Tamiflu. I started rolling up my sleeve when she said "You know better than that, this shot goes in the hip". Well, I was trapped - no way to explain and her no-nonsense manner said I was getting the shot (for nausea). Soooo I eased off the table and pulled down my trousers... and heard her intake of breath and "Oh Wow!" Well, she recovered her professionalism, gave me the injection, the prescription, and a return to work slip dated the following Monday. I stopped and got the prescription filled and went home and crashed for four days.

By Monday, I was feeling almost as good as new. Going back to work, I stopped in the coffee shop for a soda. Cynthia was already sitting there reading a magazine and sipping coffee. She nodded and motioned for me to sit down. I guess the embarrassment showed on my face, but she reassured me that what I did was my business and she wasn't telling anybody. She was, naturally, curious though. So from there to the middle of the shift, between interruptions, I explained about my chastity fetish. Indeed I went into more detail than I had ever done so with anyone including my frustrations on not having a satisfactory keyholder. She raised eyebrows a couple of times but had no further comment than, "Interesting."

Well, I thought the issue ended at that point, until the next evening, Cynthia et me in the coffee shop. She inquired if I was ‘wearing' today. When I shook my head, she said "Bring it to work tomorrow evening, if you don't mind. I'd like to see how it works." During the shift we continued discussing chastity play. She indicated that she wasn't interested in a romantic relationship, but since we were ‘friends' she'd consider helping me out with my keyholder issues. So, over the course of the shift we discussed her participation. I had already told her about my personal best time and we discussed the length of wearing.

I found myself telling her about part of the fun was the uncertainty of the time for release and wanting to test my limits a little. I suggested at least three weeks, but no more than six as minimum and maximum. The when in between was up to her...

Next evening we met a little early. I had my belt stowed in a gym bag with the two keys in my pocket. The whole prospect was very exciting. We slipped into an empty exam room and she indicted I should strip. I was momentarily embarrassed again, but she WAS a nurse. Pulling the belt out of the bag, I began explaining the functions and features of the belt.

Wrapping it around my waist, I showed her the snugness of the fit. Next I pulled the crotch shield up between my legs and indicated the penis tube. My member had become aroused, but Cynthia was prepared with an icepack from the cabinet I was limp enough shortly to work my penis into the snug-fitting tube. The I attached the shield to waist belt, adjusted the penis tube for maximum security, put affixed the lock and voila enforced male chastity. Handing her the keys she deftly pocketed them and walked around me to get a better look - testing the snugness and running her fingers along the crotch shield, she brushed my testicles where they were mashed nearly flat by the snug shield. My member's arousal thwarted by the belt.

Kneeling behind me, I felt her work her finger under the crotch shield from behind and snap her pocket flashlight on. She mentioned that she could see the head of my penis in its semi-aroused state. I explained that the geometry of the belt and the confinement of the tube effectively prevented any sexual relief. I also added that during my two-week best, I had been totally unable to orgasm. I mentioned that I didn't know what would happen in three to six weeks, but for at least two, no hope of relief.

She grinned and patted my hip - "Time to get dressed and go to work." For some reason, that shift was unusually busy, so we had little chance to converse. I did assure her that she was in possession of the ‘only two keys'. I also talked to her bout hygiene and described my squeeze bottle containing alcohol/water mixture. She also wanted to know about bathroom breaks- obviously anything done requires sitting (she giggled at that) and the thong wire and shield required a little extra attention and time for keeping clean.

Well, after I clocked out, I made the short trip to my condo. Checked the tele for weather and news, made a sandwich and grabbed a beer. I considered the internet but opted out due to my predicament. Nothing interesting on, I stretched out for a snooze and fell right to sleep for about forty-five minutes. I awakened with a persistent dull throb from my penis. This was really the first time I had considered the enormity of what I'd done. I had actually turned over all control of my sexual release to another person. I was psychologically unprepared for this realization, and my subconscious was making me pay for that. I panicked for a time tugging at the belt trying anything to get some relief from the throb... Throb... THROB centered between my legs - to no avail. I considered calling Cynthia and trying to weasel out of our agreement, but didn't. I'd just have to ride it out.

Doing deep breathing exercises and relaxing I finally got the arousal to subside, but it was definitely a frustrating experience. The first day of my confinement was several episodes of sleep, awaken frustrated, relax, repeat... I finally gave up about 2 o'clock in the afternoon and got caught up on some of my backlog of reading.

I met Cynthia in the coffee shop before shift as had become something of a ritual. She grinned and asked me, "How's your sex life?" I told her about my day and she replied, "I'm glad you're having fun. I was busy today too, putting the keys in a secure spot where they'll be safe, but inaccessible."

The shift wasn't too bad, except I was a little tired. Cynthia seemed to be a little more chatty and friendly, but I thought it might just be my mind playing tricks on me. The next day was more of the same. I did sleep a little better due to tiredness, but my dreams kept waking me to penile throb.

I also discovered that everything on television from the news, commercials, to sitcoms was based, in part, on sex and eroticism. Reading wasn't much better; most of the fiction I enjoy also carries those underlying sexual themes that cause arousal. Found myself digging out an old vibrator that an ex-girlfriend had left at my place. But the belt was fiendishly effective in carrying out it's intended task. Placing the unit directly over the spot occupied by the penis tube, the crotch shield, neoprene liner, and tube itself sufficiently muted the sensations to the point where I'd get semi-hard, but unable to complete the intent.

Over the next few days, I managed to cope with my situation better. My mind and body adjusted to the confinement and I rested better. I tried (as much as possible) to put all thoughts sexual out of my head.

Cynthia greeted me every workday with a query on my sex life, followed by a giggle and a smirk. She seemed to be warming up a little more as well - sitting closer and having more physical contact teasing more. Again, I considered that it might just be my imagination, but every time her thigh brushed mine or one of her breasts brushed my arm sent me into a throbbing semi-arousal. She seemed to be oblivious to the effects she was having on me.

Just wearing the belt without access to the keys was having an erotic effect on me as well. The penis tube exerted constant pressure on my member keeping me somewhat aroused even when I was most relaxed. I found myself praying that Cynthia would have mercy on e and give back the keys closer to three weeks than to six. However, as the third week came and went, she showed no signs of tiring from our little game.

The fourth week came and went, as well, without relief. Though I was trying t stay busy and keep sex out of my mind it had a tendency to jump into my thoughts whenever I was with an attractive person. Going to a restaurant or shopping became adventures in tease and denial.

We were midway through week five when Cynthia handed me a note before the end of our shift that read, ‘Today after clock out in Exam Room 3.' Room 3 is where we work with mentally ill and challenged patients. It sees precious little traffic in this locale and almost none on our shift.

Once there Cynthia indicated she'd like to share one of her kinks with me - a little bondage. Pretty soon I was naked except for belt and strapped nearly immobile to the exam table. She even pulled a ballgag from her purse and had it wedged securely behind my teeth and secured with a strap around the back of my head. With that she walked to the door and casually mentioned going for the keys. I tugged quietly at my bonds afraid another employee might discover me, but she returned a couple of minutes later with the key in hand. She wheeled an exam stool over next to me and quietly said, "Danny the past month has been the most exciting of my life. I've gone home almost everyday and masturbated to a mind shattering orgasm knowing you couldn't do the same. In fact, I'm not ready to end our little game which is why you're all trussed up right now. So, once I give you your orgasm, as promised, I'm putting you back in the belt for another term."

With that she raised the foot stirrups (I had forgotten this table could be used for gynecological exams too) and secured my feet in them with leather straps. Next she stepped to the table and released the catches. The table slid smoothly toward my secured feet and I found my knees up around my armpits and my butt hanging off the end of the table in a most vulnerable position. Cynthia opined that she'd always wanted to have a man in this position.

She donned a surgical glove and unlocked my belt freeing the crotch shield and releasing my member from the confines of the penis tube. The tube she took and washed and wiped down the shield. She squirted some lube into the palm of her gloved hand and proceeded to give me a slow hand job. Despite the fact it was so mechanical it felt like the sweetest touch in the world.

It took her only about ten minutes until I was worked into a frenzy and ready to cum. She caught my emission in a towel and wiped me off thoroughly. Then she proceeded to begin reassembling the belt while I shook my head with as much vigor as possible. She just smirked and nodded with that little grin of hers. Once I was secured she released my left hand with the admonition to release myself and clean the place up before heading out.

That was 5 months ago and I'm still belted today. I'm seldom released, never more often than once a month and always while I'm bound hand and foot to prevent my interfering with reinstallation of the belt. Cynthia shows no signs of growing bored with her control. In fact the last couple of times I've been freed were at her place. While she maintains she's not interested in a romance, she is very interested in cultivating her dominant side.

At her place, she dispenses with the hand job and has me hump a pillow for relief while she makes humiliating comments regarding my performance and the fact that I've been reduced to this... So there you have it. I've written this at Cynthia's behest.

Should you have any comments or suggestions you can email them to her at: cynthia.porter007@yahoo.com

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Page last updated 2008-Aug-02 by: Altairboy@aol.com