‘This is the most humiliating moment of my life,’ Isabelle thought as she sat in the passenger seat with her head in her hands. Public exposure; she couldn’t believe herself.
“So let me get this straight, Isabelle,” Nathan said, not looking away from the road. He never called her Mom when he was angry with her. “You were… touching yourself. In the middle of a parking lot.”
Taking a deep breath and pushing past the embarrassment, she explained, “In my car, not just out in the open. But that’s basically right.”
She glanced at Nathan for just a moment. Being his guardian for years, she could tell he was also embarrassed about the topic. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he wrestled for control of himself,
“I’m… not completely oblivious to your… urges. Oh, forget it. You’re the horniest person I know. Frankly, relying solely on law enforcement to curb your lust-driven behavior is not a great arrangement. You’re clearly struggling to manage your libido on your own. Fortunately, if you’re willing to try, there are ways for you to stay accountable.”
Confused, Isabelle asked, “What, like a support group? I’m not a sex addict. I haven’t been with anyone in-“
“Not a support group Mom,” he interrupted. “It’s something to physically remind you to keep your mind off of masturbation. It’s a chatity belt.”
She was shocked and unable to process what he just said. Her thoughts ran unbidden for a moment. ‘Was he planning on locking me in some medieval iron belt to keep me away from my pussy? How would that even work? He was so nervous just a second ago, but now he looks totally calm. I’ll just keep quiet and let him explain a little more before I speak.’
“It’s not some weird Dark Age thing,” he said as if answering without me having to voice the question. “There are manufacturers who design belts that are sanitary, fit well, and can be secured with a lock and key. The idea is that you would be wearing the belt, and I’d be keeping the key. Each time you get the urge to do something you shouldn’t, the belt will prevent you.”
She asked a few questions about how she’d be able to pee, if it would show under her clothes, and if she’d have to wear it all the time. He answered as much as he could, oddly free of the tension he held just a moment ago. He said that most of her concerns would be explained when they wrote up a contract. The odd family sat in silence for the rest of the drive. When he finally pulled into the garage, she made her decision.
He brought his laptop to the dining room table and pulled up the website he would be ordering the belt from. When Isabelle saw it, she became a little calmer. It wasn’t some brutalist prison. It was very low-profile and thin. Nathan explained that each one is custom-made, so it can be comfortable and secure. He told her what measurements he needed to place the order. When Isabelle asked to take the laptop and enter it all by heself, he gave her a very stern look before handing her a pen and a slip of paper.
Giving him that kind of intimate information about her figure felt a little strange to Isabelle, but she would have to get used to it. At least she had nothing to be ashamed of in terms of her waist and hips. In fact, she half-expected Nathan to question if those numbers were right. He took the slip of paper and entered the measurements into the order form without comment. She forgot he was a man and had no clue what he was looking at.
Nathan insisted that they draw up an agreement that clearly spelled what would happen. He pulled up a basic chatity contract after ordering the belt. By default, it was full of BDSM elements, making reference to sexual service and harsh punishments. After a fairly short discussion and serious pruning of the more extreme certificates, they printed out the contract and signed it.
Isabelle, her nervouss at their limits from the day’s events, decided to shower offthe stress. She stripped off the clothes, which still smelled of the police station she was dragged into earlier that day. She laid on all her charms to get out of an instant exposure charge. She turned on the shower and absentmindedly grabbed the wand vibrator resting on the counter before stepping in. It wasn’t until a few moments later that Isabelle realized what she was holding. Masturbating in the shower was part of her daily routine, and that would soon not be the case.
Her idle free hand began to cares her breast as she stared off into space, thinking of the contract she just signed. As she moved from one breast to the other, feeling their weight, she bounced from one stipulation to another, imagining how her daily life would play out:
* The wearer will be guaranteed an orgasm once every two weeks.
* The chatity belt wearer may not attempt to stimulate herself in any manner or view erotic material in any form.
* There will be weekly supervised unlocksfor hygiene and health purposes, which may occur on the same day as those set aside for the wearer’s orgasm. During these unlocks, the wearer will thoroughly clean herself and shake/wax all public hair.
* The wearer will perform tasks as instructed by the keyholder, ranged from household chores or running errands to providing acts of service for the keyholder. These tasks may be rewarded with unscheduled orgasms or other privileges as decided by the keyholder.
* The keyholder retains the right to demand a nude inspection of the wearer to ensure the chatity belt is secure and the wearer is following instructions.
* Failure on the part of the wearer to adhere to these requirements and all instructions by the keyholder may be subject to punishment, including but not limited to revoking of extra privileges or physical punishments (spanking, flogging, edging, etc.)
She didn’t feel confident asking for more than one orgasm every two weeks, even though she really wanted to. Her plan was to make up the difference in chores and cooking meals, which was part of her normal routine anyway. The nude inspection part, while written a little strangely, made sense to her. Of course, she’d have to show him the belt was still on now and then. He probably wouldn’t ask too often, and all she’d have to do is pull up her skirt for a few seconds.
Still fondling her tits, her other hand placed the vibrator Between her legs, not buzzing away just yet. She looked down to see what her body was doing to itself, discovering again how difficult chatity was going to be for her. She thought about the clause that required her to shake her pussy. It made some sense if the belt could get snagged. She ran the head of her vibrator along her landing strip, wondering what it would feel like.
‘Supervised unlocks,’ she Remembered. Nathan said that he would stand outside the shower, cleaning her belt, while she took care of herself. He explained that the shower curtain would give her some modesty. Being honest with herself, Isabelle thought that was the best she could hope for. And if that was the case, she might as well practice. She retrieved her shaving kit from the counter and went back to the shower. She sat on the wall of the bathtub and went to work.
After a few minutes, she washed off the remaining shake gel and stood up, feeling the new bald patch right above her pussy. Even as her fingers slide their way down, she thought of the frustration at not being able to cum at will anymore. She put forth an effort of willpower to stop herself, but each soft, teasing brush of her fingertips refused to be the last one. Isabelle spent what felt like a long time in this state, trying to wrestle control of her body back to herself but unable to resist her own teasing.
Eventually, her body won. She grabbed the vibrator and turned it on, droplets of water flying off. She wasted no time, targeting her clip and holding the vibe there as shestarted to shiver. She had done this a hundred times, but this felt amazingly different. With the impending denial lurking in the back of her mind, she clung fiercely to every sensing of pleasure. Every pulse of the vibe, muscle contraction, and steam-filled breath she took in sent her deeper into a state of rapture. When her orgasm finally came, she almost didn’t want it. But she couldn’t deny herself, moaning softly as her legs squeezed the vibrator and every part of her body shook.
She sat reclining in the tub for a few minutes, the hot water splashing down on her legs. Eventually, she got up and finished her shower. Walking from the master bath into her room with just a towel on, she realized her door was open. Nathan may have heard her. She tiptoed to the door and peered down the hallway. There was no sign of anyone, but there was the faint sound across the hall of one of his video games. Isabelle surprised. He gets so lost in those that he wouldn’t notice if she were standingng right behind him.
She closed her door, dropped her towel, and laid down on top of her bed, feeling her body in its wound-out orgasmic bliss. The chatity belt would arrive the day after tomorrow. Her mind raced, trying to imagine what her life would be like without orgasms on demand. She wondered what sort of chores she’d be asked to do.
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