Saara (google-translated)

[oumuamua]

Translated from: http://web.archive.org/web/200504080459 ... 11503.html using google translate with minor manual corrections.
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Her name was Saara, she was 22 years old, had medium-length brown hair, a nice figure and a charming smile. She was the student next door as it was in the book.

The sun swung slowly over the horizon, setting the individual little clouds on fire. The day woke up, in the background the noise of the never sleeping city swelled to morning activity.

Saara shivered, an unpleasant shiver ran down her spine. The time slipped between her fingers, she had to make a decision and yet her inside was still as much a roaring sea of ​​flames as the early morning sky.

She was torn between love and reason, between the desire in her heart and the fear in her stomach.

It wasn't right that Stefan demanded that of her and yet it was her own fault, yes, she had pushed him in this direction without really wanting to.

Stefan was the kind of man you could grow old with. He was handsome, had charm and a sense of humor, and had a deep soul, which she mostly noticed when she was sorry. He was the multifunctional package women could only find and never look for, but he was never exciting. He was calm and serious and had things planned.

Markus was different.



Three months ago

She met him at a party. His gaze seemed to penetrate through her to the most secret corners of her soul, his voice could cast a spell over her and no matter how many people there were in the room, he only had eyes for her. He burned with passion, he was exciting and she had succumbed to him after the first words when he talked about Africa and his safaris there.

She knew she was acting like a silly teenager, but he was so different. He knew what he wanted and he knew what a woman was there for. He didn't talk around it for long, he didn't ask, he just kissed her.

Not timid and shy like Stefan, who always tried to make it nice for her.

Markus kissed her, passionately, stormily. He sucked on her lips, shoved his words demanding in her mouth. He didn't want to be politically correct, he wanted her and his fun.

He maneuvered her to the bathroom and took her. His hands found those places on her body that had always longed for exactly this touch, his fingers caressed her nipples and onions them exactly at the moment in which they craved for it. And when he penetrated her, it took her breath away. She was a woman and he showed her.

And she came like never before in her life.

And then felt guilty as in her life.

He was the negation of her humanistic training, he was the real guy who only needed to get a bitch right to make her horny. He was...

They kept meeting, she couldn't say no. Whenever she wanted to end it, he took her in his arms and kissed her. She didn't want to, and yet she asked for it. She no longer understood herself. She felt like a leaf in an autumn storm. Driven and lost.

Stefan was desperate, she had closed herself off and was getting further away from him every day. She didn't know what to tell him.

That he didn't deserve what she did to him?

That she broke up with him because he couldn't do it in bed?

If she threw that at him, she could be happy if he at least got gay, he would probably not touch a woman in his life.

Besides, she loved him.

And coveted Markus with every fiber of her body.

She sat in bed all night crying, yelling at Stefan or slamming doors. Only in the arms of Markus did she find peace and when he filled her the world around her seemed to sink into insignificance.

Until Stefan, desperate and worried, stormed into her apartment in the middle of the lecture period and found her and Markus in bed together. He was worried why she wasn't in college. The truth literally froze him to stone. She would never forget his face when he entered the room to find his girlfriend ecstatically groaning under another man.

When Saara began to kick desperately under him, Markus stood up, saw the motionless Stefan, quietly dressed and patted her friend on the shoulder as he walked out.

Markus had never tried to contact Saara again. Maybe he would have liked to have had fun with her a little longer, but he had killed the prey and now it was starting to get difficult and so he moved on.

Saara crouched on the bed and howled, she didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do and the minutes turned into an agonizing eternity. A huge, painful lump in her throat choked every sound, every possible word she didn't even want to say. And Stefan just stood there.

At some point he turned on his heel and walked slowly out of the apartment.

The next two days were the worst of Saara's life. She spent most of the day on campus, hoping to meet Stefan, wanted to talk to him, explain everything to him. Somehow undoing what happened, as ridiculous as that might be. She wanted to assure him of her love, ask his forgiveness, just do something. She just wanted to be taken in his arms and hope that it might be the same as it was before Markus.

But she didn't find him. Friends who spoke to her finally said he was sick. The questioning look they gave her hit her with almost physical pain. After all, as his girlfriend, she should be the first to know when he was sick.

She drove to his small two room apartment in the harbor district. Heart pounding, he rang the bell and waited. She stood at the side of the door so that he couldn't see her through the peephole. Once he opened the door she would be able to talk to him. She waited and hoped.

Stefan opened the door. He was dressed in casual clothes and looked sleepy. Her breath caught again, a lump constricted her throat. All the words she had laid out were like wiped away and she just stood there. The repentance in person. He looked at her for a long time, then turned around and said: "Come on in".

Those were almost the only words they spoke that day. He was so goddamn polite and even offered her tea, his beloved and expensive Earl Gray tea from the specialty store.

But they just sat in the small living room and Stefan looked out the window.

Saara couldn't find words.

Over the next few weeks she became more certain that she had lost him. He still did not go to the lectures and when she visited him he entertained her politely but with an icy silence, which he only interrupted every now and then with flat sentences about the weather and the study.

It was a sultry Monday in June when he surprised her and she drew a glimmer of hope again.

"Do you remember what you said, what you would do if I should cheat?" He asked while he stared thoughtfully out of the window.

She smiled, she could clearly remember that conversation at the lido three years ago.

"I think I wanted to scratch the slut's eyes out, but only after I killed you." Her smile widened. "And what did you want to do if I should cheat?"

Now she had him, that was what she had hoped for for so long, he was talking to her again. All she had to do now was keep the conversation going, then she would find a lever at some point to get through to him.

His cramped features softened a little and a delicate blush rose in his cheeks. "I think I wanted to lock you in iron panties," he said.

Saara's stomach rumbled, he could be so damn cute when he talked about something he considered disreputable.

"I deserved it."

He nodded, "and then another evening with your stallion". Saara's stomach contracted. Yes, she thought go on, talk to me.

“That would have been really mean. I think he would have looked pretty stupid if I had worn something like Maid Marian. "

“It was actually less about him than about you. I mean, how would you have felt if you really want to fuck him and you can't? "

It wasn't going in the right direction at all, not at all, her thoughts were racing. How could she answer this question? That she didn't want to fuck with him at all hardly.

She bit her lip, “It's a shame that this type of underwear no longer exists. Emancipation doesn’t only have its good sides ”.

"Of course there are still chastity belts today," he burst out and turned bright red.

Saara thought she had successfully circumnavigated the cliff and quietly exhaled deeply, now just not popping back or Stallion or Markus.

"Are you sure, I mean which woman would have such a thing put on?"

Shit, stupid answer, you're literally ramming him into the subject. Her hands got drenched in sweat.

“I mean, what woman would do something like that, except me. I would like to put on something like that if you want to. "

Stefan was finally red as a tomato.



today

The sun had meanwhile turned into a scorching ball of embers and conjured up wandering plays of light on the surface of the water in the harbor.

Yesterday he called her and said the chastity belt had arrived ...

They had spent countless hours looking at sites on the Internet that offered chastity belts, had spent nights discussing the advantages and disadvantages of one and the other model. He had measured Saara for every conceivable model in every conceivable place and sometimes even taken plaster casts in order to let the belt really fit in the decisive place.

And for many, many nights she had her head on his lap and they thought up the craziest scenes with her and the belt: Saara with the chastity belt in the supermarket, at the university, in the indoor pool or at the airport. There were no limits to your imagination. The chastity belt was the subject, the lever she was looking for to get back to him.

And it had always been in the distant future. Until yesterday.

She had been beating her ears all night and her mind had been on a roller coaster.

She couldn't really let herself be locked up in such a thing!

But if she went to Stefan and told him everything was just a joke, there was definitely no future for both of them.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and stood up. She would do it, she loved him and he wouldn't do anything that would hurt her in any way. Maybe she could talk to him that they could use it like some kind of sex toy and that she only had to carry it now and then. And if that didn't work, she'd whine a little and her sweetheart would free her after a few days.

She walked the few meters across the street to the old row house and rang his nameplate.

A sleepy voice answered the intercom after a while.

"Yes?"

"It's me, please open."

The stairwell was dark and with every step her courage sank further towards the hollow of her knees.

What was she about to do?

Was she really still in her mind?

She actually agreed to be locked in a chastity belt.

She actually wanted to give another person absolute power over her most intimate body area.

An ice-cold shiver ran down her spine. Love or not, that was crazy. She stopped one floor below Stefan's apartment and took a deep breath. In her head a thousand voices roared: "Go, get out, run, run as far as you can".

Her knees went weak, she gnawed her lower lip. If she left now, their relationship, their love, would have no more chance.

She tackled the last floor.

Stefan was in the kitchen fiddling with the coffee machine, it already smelled pleasantly of toast and there was a pan on the stove in which bacon and eggs would soon be sizzling. A breakfast peculiarity that he had brought back from Africa.

His hair was sweetly disheveled from sleep and otherwise the figure in the dressing gown made a rather unfair impression.

She smiled, at that very moment it hit her again in the heart, she knew why she was standing here and that it was one hundred percent right what she was about to do. She loved him. She stepped up to him from behind and hugged him, she put her head on his shoulders and whispered softly in his ear: "I love you".

He turned around and they kissed tenderly and intensely.

"Did I wake you up, I couldn't sleep all night."

He smiled, these cute dimples formed above the corners of his mouth and his eyes flashed.

“I could hardly sleep either, the whole time I was imagining how great you would look in that belt. It will look great on you. I can barely wait for it."

"Do we still want to have breakfast first? A cup of coffee would do me really good now. "

The corners of his mouth slid down a little, like a small child, it flashed through her head, to whom mom had told that the gifts were not yet available on the morning of the 24th but only in the evening under the Christmas tree. At moments like this, she could just have cuddled him.

"You haven't even shown it to me yet," she said.

The corners of his mouth slid back up and he rushed out of the kitchen.

"Come with me, it's already in the living room."

She turned on the coffee machine and then followed him.

The living room had large windows on two sides and was wonderfully bright, it was actually the room in the entire apartment that she liked best. In the middle, in front of the red rattan couch, was a small table with a glass top. It usually featured a mahogany elephant that he had brought back from one of his trips to Africa. But today there was an ensemble of flashing metal. Although she couldn't see any sense in the tangle of steel bands and chains at first, she had no doubt what it was.

She swallowed.

With a practiced grip, which showed that he had examined the thing many times and for a long time, he picked it up.

She swallowed again, it looked exactly like the pictures on the Internet: Solid, breakout-proof and very, very durable.

Stefan held up the chastity belt by the so-called waist band, one about four centimeters wide triple-layered stainless steel tire, which was padded with neoprene. The padlock with shackle protection could be seen on one side, which should be on the front of her stomach. From there another band, the so-called crotch band, led downwards in a half U-shape; it was also made of triple-layered stainless steel, was lined with neoprene and had a clear bulge about halfway up, at the end that did not go up to the waist band, a field with innumerable tiny holes was visible. This was followed by two curb chains that would lead over her bottom back to the waist band.

Worst of all, however, was the ring that was visible on the crotch band just below the security lock. There had been a lot of discussions about him and today Saara no longer knew how Stefan had been able to assert himself. Probably the constant talk was too much for her and she had just said yes to have her peace of mind.

Back then it was all so far away and seemed so infinitely unreal.

But today the belt with the ring was right in front of her nose.

A curb chain led from the ring through a hole on the inside of the crotch band and from there, lying on the neoprene, to the attachment of the bumps to the crotch band.

The crotch chain was a bit shorter than the corresponding part of the crotch band anyway and would dig itself into her pubic area.

But if someone were to pull on the ring as well ...

Saara ran ice-cold goose bumps up and down her back.

Men could be perverted, and sometimes even their meek friend could not hide that he belonged to that species.

Then another detail caught her eye, one that she had never accepted and that she had argued about for endless hours.

From the two sides of the waist band fell two chains from which two more precious metal hoops hung, which were connected by another short chain. In the description on the website, this arrangement was called "thigh straps", they were supposed to prevent women from spreading their legs too far and forcing them to only wear skirts.

The blood rushed to her face and she opened her mouth, but that was really too much now.

As if he had suspected what she was going to say, he said meekly: "I'm sorry, it came over me, I mean the idea that you can never spread your legs again ...".

He had those big, please, please, begging eyes of a small dog that she had never been able to resist.

“I'll never be able to ride my fat man again, you know that”.

“You can no longer ride with the chastity belt anyway, that sucks like hell. And, I just wanted you to never feel anything else but me between your legs. "

It hit her like a blow in the stomach, never riding again, but his eyes and that expression on his face.

She just couldn't be mad at him.

Her hands began to shake as he held out the chastity belt to her. They had talked about it so long and often and, she had to admit, she had made him so hot that he just wanted to see her in the thing now. And the money he had paid was of course not insignificant for a student.

No, she couldn't just let Stefan sit there even if she had a really more than justified excuse through the thigh ligaments.

She took belt off him and was more than surprised by its physical weight.

"Are you really going to put it on?"

The child at Christmas who can't believe that the greatest gift is really his.

She nodded. Endless minutes seemed to pass as she weighed the shiny stainless steel ensamble in her hands. The situation was just too bizarre for her to even have a clear thought or plan to do something.

She was about to lock herself in a chastity belt.

The full scope hit her harder from minute to minute, as if she were standing on a distant empty beach and wave after wave was breaking over her.

She took a deep breath, she had to do something, anything, if she just stood here and stared at the chastity belt like a rabbit at the snake, she would soon have lost her courage and she would never do it.

Stefan looked at her, he waited. He waited for her to take off her pants and lock herself in the thing here in front of him. Something in her coveted up, a hard lump formed in her stomach, if she was already doing it then at least she wanted to do it alone, wanted to be alone with herself and her misery and not turn it into a kind of perverse show for her boyfriend.

Of course he knew her naked, he was her boyfriend after all, but that was a completely different matter.

She returned his gaze, no if she should lose control of her most intimate area of ​​the body, it was at least her private matter.

She turned and went wordlessly into the small, cluttered bedroom. She felt his burning gaze with an almost physical presence on the back of her neck. She knew she was hurting him right now, but that was finally too much.

When she closed the door it was as if a spell was breaking, as if she had escaped the madness a good bit again. Doubts germinated again in her which she pushed aside, she had had long enough time to worry about it and to stop it.

She would, but she wouldn't do it in front of him while he was struggling to suppress an orgasm. If he could hold it back.

She took off her shoes and socks, then undid her jeans, pushed them down her legs, and tossed them with the rest of the things on the unmade bed.

The atmosphere around her seemed more unreal from moment to moment, she almost felt like in a dream from which she just wanted to wake up.

She was about to lock herself in a chastity belt. This realization, this consciousness hammered with all power on the barriers of her mind. She did it because she loved him, because she didn't want to lose him and because she felt guilty for the thing with Markus. But she was scared and somehow knew that it wasn't right. But she had given Stefan the idea and couldn't let him down like that. Her mind raced and her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest.

She would lock herself in a chastity belt and she would have no way of breaking free from it.

She gripped the narrow cuff of the panties firmly and took them off, then gripped the belt with trembling fingers. It was cold and heavy and frighteningly massive.

The blood was pounding in her head and her gaze was focused, like in a tunnel, only on the metal prison. With a soft click she swung it open and wrapped it around her narrow waist. Involuntarily she pulled in her stomach, the metal bit coldly into her tender, warm flesh and a low moan escaped her lips. The cold hit her like a blow and she almost threw the belt in the next corner and stormed out of the apartment without a word.

It wasn't worth a guy.

The two thigh bands that dangled beside her thighs slowly seeped into her consciousness. They had no mechanism to open, women had to step into them like pants.

As if in slow motion, she took off the waistband and stared at the ensemble for several minutes.

She bent down slightly, put both feet on the thigh straps and pulled them up together with their belt. A hand's breadth above the knees they reached a point from which they could no longer be moved upwards, the waist band snuggled tightly over their hips again. Everything fit perfectly like a glove and it almost seemed as if it would slide into the cold metal by itself. She wanted it and didn't want it, soft tears rolled down her reddened cheeks and at the same time her crotch was moist like seldom before.

The chastity belt, the action developed its own magic, its own compulsion.

She would lose her freedom and give herself to her boyfriend.

Almost mechanically, she reached between her legs and grasped the crotch band. When she tried to pull it forward, it didn't fit between her tied thighs. As hard as she tried to spread her legs a little more, the steel shackles held her thighs together relentlessly. She sobbed, she wanted it and she didn't want it, the more she struggled between her legs, the more often she brushed her hot, wet pubic and she became all the more aroused. The chains of the thigh bands clinked softly and shortly before she desperately wanted to throw herself on the bed, she managed to twist the crotch band on the chain suspension slightly and twist it between her legs almost like a living animal. She was finally on fire, like another man had managed to stimulate her.

She held the crotch band in her right hand, her left hand slid between steel and flesh, and millimeter by millimeter she adjusted the crotch chain.

Then she pulled the crotch band up vigorously, the crotch chain tightened clearly and dug deep into her aroused sex. The labia were on both sides of the curb chain and her soulful clitoris, which always yearned for tender strokes, was mercilessly clasped by her. Before she could change her mind, she let the lock with the shackle protection snap into place with a soft click.

As quiet as the sound was, it seemed to her the most distinctive in To be her whole life, it was like falling into an endless black hole from which there was no escape.

She clasped her right hand in her crotch, tried to touch where only ruthless steel held her captive. She was excited, she was on fire, her sensitive pleasure center hungered for caress. She just wanted to stroke each other, wanted to be touched by Stefan, to be filled out by him. She felt the dampness of her vagina through the tiny holes in the crotch band over which her fingers slid and the chains of the thigh bands were stretched like a guitar string when she tried to slide her little fingers sideways under the shield. The more desperate she rubbed and pushed, the hotter she became, but out of reach of herself.

That was chastity.

The tears burst from her with the force of a burst dam and she sank down on the bed weeping.

Every movement, no matter how small, chased a wave of desire through her clitoris and the ring on the crotch band stood up straight from it, as if it were literally eager to be pulled to torment the prisoner in painful pleasure.

Day 1 of chastity

It was the famous day after, or day 1 of her new life. You could call it what you wanted, it came out to be the same.

She rolled from side to side, pulled the bedspread with the childish but beloved horse cover up to her chin. The clock radio was playing hip-hop and until yesterday that would have been a reason to get out of bed with one jump. But not today.

As long as she was in bed, her legs crossed together, she hardly felt her intimate prison, but once she got up and did the morning routines, it could no longer be ignored. Every step, no matter how small, would stimulate her sensitive clitoris, the shower would confront her with the problem of cleaning and the final walk to the closet would make it clear to her with all her might that she could wear neither panties nor jeans. She would only be able to wear one of the few skirts she owned, with nothing underneath but the chastity belt.

She closed her eyes again, wishing she was far, far away.

She thought of yesterday, the day it clicked, but somehow everything was in a fog. She could only vaguely remember the events of the hours after. It almost seemed like it was a dream.

But dreams left no tangible traces in the form of chastity belts.

They'd had breakfast together, then they'd dropped out of college and spent most of the day out in the harbor and park. Stefan had almost always had his hand on her bottom and the stupid, lustful grin seemed to have been chiseled into his face.

As already said, she could only remember a few details, only one thing she would never forget, her horniness. After a few minutes she was so hot that she would have done it with a broomstick if she could only have pushed it between her legs.

Her entire consciousness, every little thought, seemed to revolve around just one thing. She wanted to be petted, caressed and fulfilled. She wanted to be filled out, she longed to feel Stefan inside her as she hadn't even done when they were newly in love. She felt like a horny bitch and had to wrestle with herself every minute not to attack him and ...

She sighed softly, she had never felt anything like it before in her life. It was confusing, frustrating, and in a strangely perverse way satisfying.

For the first time in her life she really felt the moisture between her legs and was shamefully aware of it when she sat down in her skirt in the plastic shell of the tram seat on the way home.

And she had never been so aware of the presence of men in her life. Their eyes burned like fire in her back and she longed to sit down and flirt with them.

She wanted to be fucked. Just the thought of it made her pulse race and her lips go dry.

That was chastity.

She had gone to bed unsatisfied and frustrated.

They hadn't said a word about it, but she knew deep down that Stefan would let her stew for a few days if not weeks. She deserved punishment. After all, she had said that herself over and over again.

This morning the excitement had subsided to a tolerable level, but she had no doubt that the fire of desire would be rekindled quickly once she had taken a few steps with the perfidious torture device and the step chain had taken care of her clitoris.

But she had to get up, she couldn't afford to spend another day at university, especially since two mandatory events were on the schedule today. And she had arranged to meet Maya to study.

She threw back the covers and swung her legs out of bed.

[MartinII]

Great story - where is it from? And what was the genuine language?

[pdw1234pdw]

What a very good written story. very detailed about the feelings that Saara feels before and after putting on the belt.
I understand that there is no sequel somewhere?

[MartinII]

Nice story - thanks a lot!

[Donnyy]

Despite the fact that the story was translated by Google, and not by a living person, it is very interesting to read, thanks!

[BertO]

Hello,

The story is really exciting and interesting. Thank you very much for sharing.