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I woke up nearly an hour before my alarm was set for. It was really starting to dawn on me just how crazy the script I was planning to shoot today was. Am I really going to go through with it and tell the world that I’m wearing a chastity belt because I couldn’t stop touching myself? I’d had these doubts ever since I decided to tell the world about this, but I just knew I had to. I took a deep breath, wondering if I should try to get a few more minutes of sleep or just get up and get ready for the day.
As I lay there, thinking about staring into the camera to describe the joys of chastity, I absent mindedly ran my hand down my body as I always found myself doing before when I was stressed. Ironically, I was so preoccupied thinking about what I was going to say about it that I was almost surprised when my fingers met the belt. I ran my fingers all around the edge of the belt, thinking that if I found a slight gap between it and my skin that it would give me permission to really test to see if I could get under it. I found nothing. The belt was entirely flush against my skin at every possible inch.
I took a deep breath and gathered my composure as I sat up. This is good, I reminded myself; this is exactly what I wanted. Plus, I’d already let myself have an orgasm yesterday after I put the finishing touches on the script. I don’t need another just a few hours later, even if it would help calm my nerves.
Deciding it would be no use trying to get more sleep, I got up dressed and walked out to my kitchen to start the coffee maker. I stood there waiting for the water to heat, thinking about how I was just a few feet to the right of my kitchen junk drawer where my key was. It was as far from my bedroom as it could be in the house. Plus, with the random clutter in the drawer, it would take me a minute to rummage through and find it. The first drops of coffee started to trickle through the filter; I think the glovebox of my car might be a better storage spot. With the pot nearly full, I remembered that I would need to have the key anyway when I went to the studio to film; I’d planned to let everyone see the actual key. It was the best way I could prove I was serious since I wasn’t willing to show enough of my body off to give any other proof.
The quiet, high pitched tone of the coffee maker signaling it had finished interrupted my thoughts just as I started to reach to open the drawer. It brought me back out of my thoughts and I came to my senses. No. I could see what I was trying to rationalize, I still had to shower before leaving and I knew what would happen if I had the key in my pocket. I’ll grab it right before I leave.
I stayed focused for the rest of the morning, taking my coffee to the balcony to watch the sunrise, before showering. Without the key, showering was no temptation. Well, it was no temptation that mattered. I’d hardly ever touched myself in the shower before since I had always preferred being spread out on my bed, but now it was hard to keep the thought out of my mind. Seeing the lavender shape of the the belt on my body in the steamed mirror was the hardest, the soft outlines of the shape made it feel more like it was reflecting my feelings than my form.
I fought back against this by focusing on the practical tasks of keeping myself clean: both the usual soaps and shampoos and the new tasks keeping my belt clean while still on my body. After I’d conditioned my hair, I grabbed the little cleaning pump off the shower shelf, filling it with water and a few drops of soap before pressing it against the small cleaning port near the top of my belt. Squeezing it, I felt the warm water run along my skin and between my legs. The way the belt directed the water inside itself was designed to minimize the chance of any real pleasure, no matter how hard I tried squeezing the pump’s bulb, (And believe me, as ashamed as I am of it, I definitely tried.)
I repeated the process a few more times and then stood there enjoying the steam for a few more minutes. When I finally shut the water off and stepped out of the shower, more time had passed that I thought; I was almost behind schedule. I hurried to dry myself, toweling off my hair and body outside of the belt and drying the inside of my belt with another specialty tool that came in its package. kıbrıs escort I put on the outfit I’d carefully picked out yesterday for the video – modest sweater that didn’t reveal my figure too much and jeans to show that the belt didn’t show from under them – and left for the studio, grabbing my key on my way out.
At the studio
It was just a few minutes drive to the studio. My producer was already waiting, getting things set up when I got there. The space was shared and only ours for two days a week so we had to set things up fresh each week. We said hello and then prepared in silence. She’d tried to talk me out of making this video all week, but my mind was made up. I could tell that she had my best interests at heart, but I still had to do this.
Still though, I was nervous. Her and I kept busy until everything was in order, absolutely nothing left we could do to delay filming. “Ready?” She asked, with all of her previously spoken doubts in her voice. “Yes” I replied, breathing in deeply before taking my seat at the desk. She counted down and started filming.
In spite of all my nerves, it went perfectly smoothly in one continuous take. In my usual bubbly personality on camera I welcomed everyone before explaining my previously secret problem and the solution I’d found. I made it clear that no one was forcing me to do this and that it’s only for women like us who want to live a more traditional lifestyle. I stood to show that no one would even know you were wearing it if you didn’t tell them. My script ended with me showing the key to the camera for a closer look, talking about what it’s meant to me in just the 15 days since it arrived.
I gave my closing and paused for a moment, looking at the camera until I saw the light go out. I breathed a sigh of relief, my heart still racing. It had been done. All that was left was for my producer to cut it and post it as scheduled in two weeks. For good measure, we ran through the script two more times but we were certain that the first had been the best.
Given how nervous I had been, I thought that we would be filming all day, but it only took us a few hours. We’d be together at the studio again the next day to film a different video, but until then I’d have nothing but time alone to myself at home. I knew what that would mean if I took my key back with me and I couldn’t relapse into my old habit the same day I confessed it to the world. I might be able to resist the temptation if I kept it in my glovebox, but I wanted to be sure today.
I walked over to the desk my producer sat at, already editing our footage, and I opened the top drawer to put my key inside. I tapped her on the shoulder, she took her headphones off, and I told her I was leaving the key here since we’d be there the next day. She asked me why and I stammered a little before saying it was in case she wanted different pictures of it. Clearly, she didn’t believe me but she chose not to embarrass me by making me tell the truth; it was obvious why I was leaving it there. “I just want you to help me remember it’s there so we don’t forget it there tomorrow” I laughed, playing it off as a joke. Walking out, I thanked her for her work and for helping me remember.
The rest of the day I spent distracting myself. I tried to read a book but kept thinking of the handful of miles separating me from my key for the first time. Eventually, I gave up and spent the rest of the day binging Netflix. It was slightly more effective at keeping my mind off my key, but my heart still raced thinking that I’d have to drive to get it.
What was important, though, was that it worked. It stayed on my mind but there was no way I could indulge my habit even after such a stressful day. As I got ready for bed, I was content with my frustration, knowing I was finally being the woman I had encouraged others to be for years. I’m sure the frustration will subside over time and I’ll be left with just the satisfaction of living my traditional life.
The next morning, I woke to my alarm. Unlike the night before, I had slept soundly. Sitting up, I stretched, content with my situation. Some mornings it takes a few minutes to recall all that had happened the day before; this was not one of those days. Though I could barely feel kıbrıs escort bayan it on my body, I knew the belt was still locked tightly around me. My thoughts about the yesterday’s video picked up right where I had left them last night. I was still nervous for next week when the world would know about my old habits and new chastity device, but I was still just as confident that I still needed to share my story.
After hours lying still, asleep the belt’s thick, adaptive fabric had had ample time to conform to every subtle curve of my body. I remembered looking at myself in the mirror the morning after my first time wearing it overnight. The lavender fabric had taken my body’s shape so closely that I could see hints of the outline of my labia. I recalled how I reached down, running my hand along the outside of the belt. My fingers could feel the suggestions of the shapes they were so familiar with between my legs, but the belt allowed absolutely none of the sensation through. My fingers could take whatever feelings they wanted, but they were forbidden from giving any. I must have stood there in just my baggy T-shirt and the belt for a half hour that first day, feeling almost frightened at how effective it was. It was like an illusion almost, my brain not fully accepting that the sensations would only happen one way. If I pressed against it for a minute or so, I would eventually feel the pressure against me as the material slowly yielded, but there was no way I could ever get myself off from it. It was exactly as promised.
I was used to that by now, in my third week of wearing it nearly constantly. Yesterday had felt so difficult and frustrating, wanting to release myself so badly to unwind after the stressful day of filming, but I had made it through. Not that I had very much choice, since I left the key back at the studio. It was definitely a good thing that I did. However, this morning was much easier. That always seemed to be the way it was after making it through a particularly tempting day. The soft swell of pride in my chest for resisting always helped to distract from the tight knot of desire I’d feel inside my waist.
I got up and began my morning routine. Since we already had the studio set put together, I had nearly an hour extra before I had to leave. I used this time each week to fit in a quick workout, which the belt didn’t hinder at all. After cooling down, I showered, dressed, and grabbed breakfast with me on my way out the door. The belt barely crossed my mind the whole morning, even when I looked down at it as I washed my body. As I drove my commute back to the studio, I smiled in contentment that I felt well on my way to finally escaping my habit.
At the studio:
A few minutes later, I pulled into the studio parking lot. The space in a suburban office park was ours just two days a week, rented out to other clients the rest of the time. I didn’t see Claire’s, my producer’s, car there yet. I hadn’t thought about it before I left the house, but I was glad to see I arrived first. I could grab the key from the desk before she showed up; I didn’t want her to see me rush to it and start to think I was too eager to be reunited.
I walked through the front door and back the hall to our space, fishing the door key out of my pocket and opening it. I went directly to the desk, opening the drawer immediately, knowing that Claire would be here any moment and I wanted to save myself that little embarrassment. Since the space was shared, the drawer was nearly empty. A stapler, tape dispenser, and handful of other random, half-useful knick-knacks abandoned over the years were all that were usually kept inside. I scanned the drawer, not immediately seeing my key. There was barely anything in there, how could I not see it? I started emptying out the drawer; the key must have slid under something when I closed the drawer.
I finished. It was empty. There was no key.
My heart was in my throat now, beating like I had just run a marathon. I put each of the dozen or so items I had taken out back in the drawer, inspecting teach one carefully, figuring that it must be caught in a stapler’s mechanism or it must have fallen into a crinkled envelope. I was wrong. Having searched every conceivable inch, my key wasn’t there.
Maybe I mis-remembered escort kıbrıs what drawer I put it in. I worked by way down the column, repeating the process three more times; the result was the same. After I had put everything back in place, I stood there, my heart still racing, starting to panic a little. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t hear Claire opening the door. When she said good morning, I jumped, startled away from my thoughts momentarily.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you like that,” She said.
“It’s okay, don’t worry. I was just lost in thought” I replied. I wanted to immediately blurt out the question I needed to ask, but I held myself back. I still want to keep up my appearances; I can’t ask about my lost key the instant she walks in. The locked ratchet closure felt tight around my waist. This was a new feeling, I felt really trapped in the belt for the first time.
I composed myself. Wherever my key was, there was no rush; it wasn’t going to go anywhere if I waited. I decided I’d bring it up later, after we had shot the video for the day: some sort of forgettable filler content about home decoration for spring. It took longer than I expected. Being preoccupied, I stumbled over the script much more than usual. Claire was patient with me though, and eventually we wrapped up for the day.
As usual, Claire went directly to the desk to begin rough editing what we’d shot, just as I’d hoped. I started to collect my things to get ready to head back home. I turned, going through the motions of heading for the door before stopping, turning around, and asking “Oh, hey, Claire?” as if I hadn’t had the question I was about to ask on my mind for the past few hours.
“Could you grab my key from the drawer and toss it here? I don’t want to leave it here when others are using the studio.” I said, ending with a little nervous laugh.
“Oh! Oh, my gosh I’m so sorry!” Claire replied, with a gasp. She began stammering into a nervous explanation “I must have misunderstood you. I thought you wanted me to hang on to it. I didn’t think you just wanted it left here overnight. It’s back at my apartment since I didn’t think you’d need it after just one day. I can run home and grab it if you want…”
“Oh, it’s okay” I lied, cutting her off and forcing a pleasant smile. I was relieved to know where the key was, but I also wanted to scream at her for making me panic earlier this morning. If I did, she’d know just how frantically I had searched, though, so I held myself back.
“Are you totally sure? I…I really can run home and come back if you want?” She offered, already standing with her car keys in her hand. Clearly I wasn’t hiding my emotions as well as I had hoped, but I couldn’t possibly ask her to do that. She’d think I needed back out after just two days. Plus, she lived nearly an hour away from the studio, I couldn’t ask her to go all that distance.
“Yeah, I’m sure” I said, feeling like I was starting to more successfully act casual, “Just bring it back here when we’re back here on Monday.” As I spoke, I calmed down. Monday was just six days from now and I didn’t plan to use the key until at least then anyway. This was all to break my bad habit, so it was actually probably better for it to be far away from me for the next few days. “Thanks for hanging onto it for me, Claire, I’ll see you next week” I said, turning to leave for real this time.
I walked briskly to my car, getting in and starting towards home. I knew in my mind that this was no big deal and was actually better this way, but still I needed to begin driving right away. If I lingered, I felt like I might turn around and tell that bitch to get back in her car and get what she took from me. I gripped the steering wheel hard, thinking about how I should slap her across the face and make her crawl across the room with the key in her mouth to give it back to me – make her show me how sorry she actually is for not fucking listening. No. No, I don’t really want that. She’s doing her best. She thought that’s what I wanted. I took a deep breath and concentrated on driving, distancing myself from those thoughts. Escaping that part of me was exactly why I’m in this belt in the first place.
I drove in silence all the way home, focusing on clearing my mind, feeling calm again by the time I got in the elevator to my apartment. I expected to have my key with me now, but it’s all okay. I just have to wait six days and I didn’t plan on unlocking anyway. I’ll be fine. I’m still just starting my chastity journey and here’s bound to be minor glitches like this. I’ll be fine. This is okay.
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