Chastitybelt Fiction

Chastitybelt Fiction

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This is a collection of Chastity related texts and fiction
that are not strictly male or female oriented. If you wish to add
new material, please write me a message.

Page last updated 2014-April-19 by:
Altairboy@aol.com

I guess this all began around this time two years ago. We were all at a beach party
having a clambake celebrating my friend Gina's birthday. It was just around two years
since we all graduated from college and we hadn't had a chance to all be together. It was
nice for the "old gang" to be able to sit around and reminisce about frat parties and old
professors that had thankfully bit the big one, never again to torture another student with
a fifty page term paper.

It was getting late and most of our crowd had long since departed. Just me, Gina,
and my buddy Tom were left and since I was the only sober one left, I started cleaning up
while Gina and Tom, in a drunken stupor, started giggling and goofing around near the
water. I was bagging up the last of our trash when I first heard the scream. I looked over
at the surf to see Tom waving frantically. They had gone into the water and he had lost
sight of Gina. I jumped into the water and swam as best I could towards the spot where
Tom was pointing. The water was cold and the beach was dark but someone must have
been looking out for us that night. I caught a glimpse of her as she was going under and
grabbed her by her hair. I towed her back to the beach with the last of my strength and lay
on the sand panting. Tom had already passed out from the beer or the excitement or both
and I was left alone with Gina. She said I had saved her life but I insisted it was nothing.
After all, we were friends. What was I supposed to do? Let her drown?

Weeks passed with Gina calling me on a daily basis calling me her hero. She
insisted on repaying me in some way but I told her over and over again that it was
nothing and that she would do the same for me. At dinner one night, she gave me a deep
kiss and said that if there was ever anything that she could do, that all I had to do was ask.
I kept that in the back of my mind.

I knew that I could have her if I wanted, but I didn't. You see, Gina was a straight
girl sexually, and I was more of a deviant. The few sexual experiences I had with Gina in
college were boring and vanilla. Missionary position in the dark and nothing else. She
never could accept the fact that I wore a chastity belt. I loved the lack of control it gave
me. I loved the feeling of restraint, knowing that if I lost the keys, I would be trapped
forever. It was a reliable commercial brand made of stainless steel and I was confident
that it was escape proof. I used to mail the keys to myself and relish the fact that my
sexuality was dependent on the efficiency of the US mail.

One evening, I checked the mailbox after coming home from work to find the
fright of my life. The envelope with my belt keys was in the mailbox, but is was torn
nearly in half. It was covered in official looking stamps from the post office stating the
obvious fact that my mail was damaged. The key was gone. I was trapped forever. Frantic
calls to the post office yielded no results. Some kids had tossed some fireworks into a
mailbox and blew half the mail to pieces. The guy at the post office knew nothing about
any keys being found. My greatest fantasy had become my worst nightmare.

I resolved not to be a slave to my own deviance. A trip to Home Depot resulted in
me purchasing a pack of premium hack saw blades. Since the belt fit so close to my skin,
I decided to get to work on the lock and the hasp. I sawed for hours and made a second
trip for more blades. After nearly haf a day, the lock fell free from the belt and I was free.
My hands were full of blisters and I had a cut on my stomach where the blade slipped a
few times, but I was released from my chastity none the less. I masturbated till I passed
out from exhaustion.

The next day, reality set it. My fantasies were all crushed. My chastity belt would
never seem permanent again. Six hundred dollars down the tube because of a few kids
with nothing better to do but blow up a mailbox. I had spent four years living chastity
fantasies and now nothing would seem permanent again.

I was watching the Discovery channel one night when Gina's offer came to mind.
There was a special on about stealth fighers and how they weighed so little and were so
strong because they were made out of such strong materials. Titanium alloys and all that.
The parts had to be cast together and cut apart with a plasma torch because the materials
melted at nearly 3000 degrees and were impervious to cutting by regular saws. The story
seemed so familiar. Gina had told me the same one. You see, she was an engineer at
Lockheed-Martin. She helped to design planes and stuff and had often complained about
how difficult all of these new composite materials were to work with. I had an idea.

It took hours to convince Gina. She certainly didn't approve. Eventually, she
regretfully agreed to look into a design for my new belt. She left my apartment with my
old belt in hand and a half-hearted smile on her face. My phone calls to her over the next
few weeks were unreturned. I assumed she had backed out of her offer.

I came home one night from work and bumped into my landlady. She had a
package for me that the mailman had left behind. I was from Gina. I ripped off the
wrapping to find a note:

I want you to be very careful with what's in this box. It's a relatively simple design but
very effective. It's made out of a carbon reinforced titanium alloy that we use to make wings for
supersonic jets out of. It cannot be cut without generating 3000 degree heat. The guys in the metal
shop owed me some favors. The lock is the same one that we use for the cabinets in our documents
room. It's also made of titanium and has only one key. It's certified pick and drill proof by the
CIA. They're very anal about security when it comes to US military technology. Make sure to keep
the lock cover on. I wouldn't want any dust to get in and jam the lock. Please be careful.

I tore the box open in a flash and there it was. A beautiful metal polished to a
mirror finish. The waistband was about 1/4" thick and 1-1/2" wide. There was a three way
hinge in the back with a third band runnng between the legs towards the front where it
ended in a triangle shaped cover piece that attached to the waistband in front. There was a
widening in the middle of the third band with an opening for the anus to allow defacation.
The front shield had a penis tube built in made of the same glossy metal with a recessed
area to cradle the testicles. The two sides of the waistband closed together and fit into
each side of the front shield, each sliding into a slot leaving a nearly invisible seam. The
belt was light. Very light. It couldn't have weighed more than a few pounds. I sat on the
waistband to test its strength. It didn't flex a bit.

I examined the front shield. It was smooth but for a plug in the middle of the
shield up near the waist. I grabbed a screwdriver and place it in the groove in the plug
and twisted. It unscrewed a 1/4" and fell out to reveal the lock within. It was a high
security barrel lock (not to mention CIA certified!).

I placed the key in the lock and turned. The locking mechanism must have been
internal. Both sides of the waistband sprung out of the front shield. I pulled them back
together and heard an audible click. The lock worked flawlessly. I opened the belt again
and screwed the plug that acted as a lock cover back in. I shuddered at the thought of a
truly permanent chastity belt. Was this what I really wanted? What if I lost the key again.
There would be no escaping this one. The tender flesh of my penis would not hold up to
the heat of a 3000 degree plasma torch. I stepped defiantly into the belt and pulled the
two sides of the waist band around me. I sucked in my stomach and heard the click of my
sexuality being sealed away. All I could do was feel the tightly confining belt hugging
my skin and stare at the key, thankful that it was within my reach. I would need to get a
copy made just in case.

"I can't do it. I'm sorry. I'll lose my license." This was the fourth locksmith. The
`do not duplicate by order of US Gov't' stamp on the key meant that I wouldn't have a
backup. I guess I needed to be careful. I had been wearing the belt for a week with no
problems. I kept the key in my underwear drawer at home. This meant that I was locked
in all day while at work. I wanted to keep the key at work but I was afraid of what might
happen. What if they brought in new office furniture at night? I'd be screwed ( or
unscrewed I guess).

I tested the security of my new belt a few times. The hacksaw blades which had
taken care of my old belt didn't even leave a scratch. I even bought a Dremel tool and
tried that too. All it did was dull the finish. I loved to put butt plugs in before I put the
belt on in the morning and be forced to wear it all day. I knew that I couldn't take them
out while I was at work.

One morning, I wisely decided to leave the butt plug out. I had some midnight
tacos and I was up with the shits all night. I knew I wouldn't be able to shit at work with
the plug in if I got sick again. I locked the belt on in the morning, put the key in my
underwear drawer, and left for work.

Worked sucked. Hell all day. I didn't even get out until nearly seven. I drove
home in a daze from the long day. I didn't even notice the sirens and the lights until the
fireman stepped in front of my car.

"You can't come down this block buddy. Huge gas explosion. The whole main
went up. Blew an apartment house to shreds."

The reality didn't set in right away. My god! Everything I owned was in there.
Thank god for renters insurance. What used to be my home was now a pile of rubble with
a bulldozer crawling over it.

"I've gotta get in there! I've gotta get to my place!"

"Hold your horses buddy. The gas guys will give the okay in a few hours. Until
then, keep back.Please."

Sure. What did he care. I waited for two hours. They let me sift through the
rubble. For two days I searched nearly non-stop. My neighbors searched also. They were
looking for remnants of the past. I was looking for the future.

Believe it or not, I found that key. It was where I had left it. In my underwear
drawer. Only now, my dresser was flatter than the underwear in it. It had survived the
explosion, but not the bulldozer. The round barreled key was now a flat piece of metal.
The treads from the bulldozer had cut off the tip of it. Realization set in. I was trapped.

Page last updated 99-Aug-01 by:
Altairboy@aol.com

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