Translated from: http://web.archive.org/web/200504080513 ... 37897.html using google translate with minor manual corrections.
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Timothy stared at her, his head red as an overripe tomato. "You are not serious, he stammered". Beth grinned mischievously, she could have bet he would react that way. She had grown up with these kinds of things and, early in her life, had lost her shyness about the fetishes and perversions that aroused male fantasies.
Her parents had made a living producing fetish films and had even had considerable commercial success with it. For two decades they had probably had the right “richer” for the trends. And they had so many more plans ...
Beth closed her eyes, father had always loved fast cars. When the Boxster was delivered last week, he had taken the opportunity to go on an initiation trip with mother.
The accident report stated succinctly: The driver lost control of his vehicle on a wet road, both occupants died at the scene of the accident.
She wiped the dark thoughts aside, if she let them overpower her now she would disappear crying into some corner for the next few hours and Timothy didn't deserve that. Her somewhat shy admirer had taken sick leave for the upcoming exams in order to stand by her side.
And she was really grateful to him for the chattered nights. Even if she would have preferred Michael.
She had to smile in silence when she thought of him. Michael was kind of a semester swarm and she hardly knew a fellow student who did not turn on him, but of course they had no chance ...
But Michael would certainly not have been as easily shocked as Timothy. He was born in Dublin and studied medicine in Germany for a few semesters. He just couldn't deny the somewhat stiff British manner.
"What is that?" With trembling fingers he stroked the cool metal of the object she held out to him.
Admittedly, it was a little mean to take him to her parents' fundus cellar, but after a few glasses of Red Bull vodka she couldn't help but resist.
"What do you think it is?"
"How does it look?"
His fingers were still stroking the contours almost tenderly.
"It looks a bit like a pair of panties," he said cautiously, "but I can't imagine a woman wearing something like that".
"A bit like panties?" Echoed her and looked at him as if he didn't recognize the most common and normal thing in the world. She took his hand and put it firmly and firmly around the metal collar. "Doesn't that look like something that could be wrapped around someone, maybe even a woman?"
If dark red could have gone through even more shades of dark red, Timothy's face would have been a shining example.
Her hand, which had clasped his, continued to slide along the U-shaped bracket attached to the waistband. "And wouldn't that fit perfectly between a woman's legs?"
She was drunk and with every minute the alcohol was working more and more, making her forget the tragedy and enjoy her game more.
She had fixed her eyes on him like a snake a rabbit, she enjoyed the way he writhed in his embarrassment.
The stiff Brit stroked a chastity belt and did not know how to behave. And now comes the climax, she thought.
"And those two things on the hanger, what do you think, where would they fit really well?"
"And that's how your parents made their living?" He tried to distract. He had withdrawn his hand from his belt and let his gaze wander through the treasure trove of two decades of erotic film art.
She smiles, you won't get away so easily my friend.
"So what is that?", She was still stroking the front dildo. Again he looked at her. Come on, she thought, tell me, be indecent and say dirty words like dildo and chastity belt.
"It is a chastity belt, I would say, although the equipment inside seems to contradict it somehow."
She shook her head, "Equipment inside, you are dildos. This is a training belt with which women should be trained and kept horny ”.
"Trained, but my God what trained for?"
The expression on his face was indescribable.
She crossed the cellar to the next shelf in a few steps, grabbed two hoses with bellows the size of a fist and snapped them into place with a soft click in the front shield of the belt. Then she pressed hard a few times on one of the bellows and the front dildo swelled to a considerable size.
"With this you train your girl so that she does what you want well-behaved."
"That doesn't attract a woman," he shook his head, but the horror and the initial disgust had left his eyes. Now There was no flash of interest.
Beth was gradually no longer just drunk but rather drunk close to the border.
"It was for a movie, they were paid actresses," she said.
"I never would have thought that you could get women into something like this for money."
“Sometimes you don't even need money. Do you want to see me in that thing? "
"Would you like to press while I'm wearing it?"
Now she had him, she could see how he imagined it. How he thought of squeezing the brim over and over again as she writhed in her prison. She licked her lips. She wanted to make him hot, wanted to upset him, break his British correctness and then let him fall.
Somewhere in the far corner of her mind a voice whispered that it wasn't right, that Timothy was a decent guy who genuinely worried about her and didn't deserve her doing this to him. But somehow the voice didn't seep through the alcohol veil into her consciousness.
She undid the top two buttons on her jeans. "Do you want to put it on me?"
Now their eyes flashed with lust, a little more, she thought, just a tiny little more. I want you to get a dick that you can run around with for three days.
Again she reached into the shelf behind her and took out two strange gloves. They had a wide metal band that encircled the hinge and was secured with a small padlock. The actual glove looked like a very clumsy mitten without a thumb. She slipped inside both of them and held out her hands to him. He stared at her motionless.
"You have to lock it so I can't use the valves on the belt."
For the first time it seemed to occur to him that she was not just fantasizing, but actually putting on a chastity belt for him, something was clearly moving in his pants. He grabbed her wrists and closed the locks with a soft click.
She smiled, now she would put on the belt and just before the lock snaps into place, she would show him the long nose.
Clumsily but provocatively slowly, she pulled the half-opened trousers over her hips and slipped them off. Then she grabbed the belt and held it out to him. "You have to vent it first, so I can't get in there".
As if in a trance, he reached for the front hose and fiddled with the complicated valve mechanism before he was rewarded with a low hiss.
She unfolded the belt and lifted it to her head, then licked both dildos several times to make them nice and wet, put the waistband on and pulled the front shield between her legs.
She never took her eyes off Timothy for a minute.
Then she put the two dildos in their openings and slowly worked them both into themselves.
She could clearly see the bulge in his pants, another minute or two and he would produce a damp stain like a schoolboy who had his first wet dream.
The intruders were inside and clearly noticeably filling them. She pulled the front shield up and hooked it by the waistband. Now all that was left to do was to snap the lock shut and she would be trapped. But it would never come to that.
Then Timothy did something she never expected. He took a big step forward, pulled her close, and kissed her. Her heart pounded as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, sucked greedily on her lips and let his hand wander gently over her shirt. Her nipples straightened, longing for a touch. The pressure in the crotch and the two intruders did the rest to set her on fire and time around her seemed to stand still.
The stiff Brit kissed her tenderly and yet stormily like no man before.
His hand went over her stomach. The soft click tore her out of her intoxication, she pushed herself free from him, stumbled backwards, lost her balance and fell. It fell forever, then a blow hit her on the head and puffy blackness enveloped her.
When she opened her eyes she received a light but throbbing pain in her temple and golden rays of evening autumn light in reality.
The clock radio on the board across from the bed read 5:48 p.m. She groaned, somehow she had slept through almost a full day. The last thing she remembered clearly was her endless conversation with Timothy in the living room. They had talked about all kinds of things and had drunk a lot, especially her. This was followed by a rather wild and crazy dream.
She moaned softly when the headache got worse, whoever can't stand the consequences shouldn't drink either, it shot through her head. She raised her hand to her forehead.
Slowly, as if in slow motion, what she saw before her eyes seemed to enter her consciousness to trickle in. Her left hand was encased in a black mitt, which severely restricted the mobility of her fingers and uselessly pressed her thumb to the palm of her hand. A small safety lock hung from the silver metal band around her wrist, preventing her from pulling off the glove.
She groaned loudly, a terrible suspicion germinated in her and she pressed her legs together forcefully. Immediately she clearly felt the two intruders inside her and the crotch band over her shame.
"Shit, very, very big shit. If you can't do it, you really shouldn't drink. "
The wild dream had obviously been very real.
And now she had to deal with the consequences.
Dishes rattled somewhere in the kitchen. Timothy shot it through her mind. She turned from her back to her side and onto her stomach, wanted to bury herself firmly in her pillow and ideally never to get up again. When she came to lie on her stomach, she clamped one of the bellows under her thigh and the front dildo expanded noticeably.
With a low scream she jumped up, spun around, and came to sit on the edge of the bed and the other bellows. The butt plug in her bottom puffed out. She slid off the edge and dropped to her hands and knees in front of the bed. Her breath came in gusts.
That wasn't funny at all. She would never have thought that a single puff of air would have such a palpable effect.
She crouched cautiously, careful not to accidentally inflate any of the intruders again.
She pulled in one of the tubes and began to fumble awkwardly with the valve with her gloved hands. The mechanism consisted of three tiny recessed buttons, which were a considerable distance apart, and a small wheel. You had to grip the last section of the hose in front of the bellows with both hands, almost like a flute player, and turn the wheel at the same time. An undertaking that was simply hopeless with the gloved hands.
Panic slowly crept up inside her.
Desperate, she began to pull and tug on the waistband, tearing the lock at the level of her belly button. She was trapped in this terrible thing and just wanted to get out, it had just been a stupid prank. She fussed more and more frantically with the shiny steel that held her body captive, lost her balance, fell over and fell back onto one of the bellows. Again the intruder widened in her bottom. A soft sob escaped her throat and small, silver tears ran down her cheeks. She lay with her head on the rag rug in front of her bed and began to cry uncontrollably, she had pushed her useless hands into her crotch as if she could prevent the dildos in her from filling up with air.
For minutes she just lay there until she slowly calmed down and tried to organize her thoughts.
There seemed to be no other way, as embarrassing and uncomfortable as it was for her, she had to go to Timothy and ask him to free her from this prison.
She closed her eyes, what should she tell him, how should she explain to him what had gone on in her yesterday. She had definitely offended the poor guy completely, and he had put her to bed too. Of course he hadn't dared to free her passed out from the belt, he was far too stiff and decent for that.
Her thoughts began to tumble again, she pulled herself together, got up and went to the closet. The dressing gown would at least visually hide her misery.
She was actually always very neat when it came to her things and was now surprised that she couldn't find her dressing gown, pants or long skirts in the closet. Otherwise everything was there. Sweaters, shirts, blouses, shoes and whatever other treasures a closet housed.
She shook her head in horror; a cold, hard lump formed in her stomach. That got even nicer.
What had she done with her things when she was drunk? Anyway, she had to get out of this horrible thing and then she would take care of the rest. She secretly vowed never to drink like that again.
She grabbed one of the narrow black pom-cuffs with which she always liked to drive guys crazy in the disco and slipped into it. As she had feared, the provocative garment showed almost more than it hid. The silver waistband with the lock was clearly visible above the waistband, the short hem that stretched tightly over her buttocks almost compulsively steered the gaze to her misery between her legs and just above her knees the two hoses with the bellows dangled in color to match the cuff .
"Fantastic," she muttered, the father would have better opted for one of his Can't think of films either.
She put on a white T-shirt and went barefoot in search of Timothy, the ice-cold lump in her stomach was getting bigger with every minute.
Following the clatter of dishes, she found him in the kitchen. He chopped up a bunch of potatoes. She stood behind him and he didn't seem to notice her. She cleared her throat and he slowly turned around with a friendly smile on his face. Oh my god, she thought, what will he say when he sees me like that. She felt the blood rush hot into her cheeks.
"Hey," she said quietly, "I think we need to talk about something".
Update 02/27/05
He seemed to be looking her up and down for a minute, then he put the knife down and came over to her.
"You don't look good, did something happen to you in the fall, does your head hurt?"
He sounded so incredibly worried and reacted very differently than she would have imagined in her wildest dreams.
Timothy the perfect gentleman.
But that was just too much for her. Her dead parents, the endless drinking bouts, the deposit in the fundus cellar, the awakening with the chastity belt and then Timothy's senisble way. She began to cry uncontrollably, she almost doubled up and the tears flowed out of her in rivers. The convulsive sobs took her breath away and she felt so infinitely silly to her pain and despair.
He took her in his arms and hugged her tightly, tenderly stroking her hair. She couldn't stop, clutching him in her gloved hands and howling hysterically.
He didn't say a word, just held her in his arms and held her.
Everything was suddenly so far away, seemed to be washed out of her with the stream of tears, she wanted to stop crying and yet again didn't want to, didn't want this moment of wordless tenderness and understanding to ever pass. She felt helpless in her bonds and safe in his arms and right now the chaos of the rest of her life was unimportant.
She felt him pick her up and nestled her head on his shoulder. He carried her to the massive sideboard in the middle of the kitchen and set her down gently on the hard wood, and like the pressure of her body she pushed the two intruders a little further into her body. She clutched her gloved hands behind his back and let go of him, she didn't want him to let her sit here now, didn't want him ever to let go of her, or didn't she want him to let her go again?
The thought confused her, but she felt safe and never wanted to be without this feeling again. She looked at him, her big eyes lay in his and spoke a silent longing, her lips were slightly parted invitingly and glistened slightly damp. She wouldn't let go of him anymore.
Seconds ran into eternity in which they just looked at each other, then she wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself close to him. Their lips met in a single wonderful moment and their tongues touched like two living beings who had longed their entire existence for just that one kiss without knowing it. She could taste it, smell it, she could feel it and knew that it was his.
He pulled away from her a little and grabbed the lower hem of her T - shirt, she writhed from one side to the other, inch by inch the material slipped over her plump breasts, her nipples protruded steeply and longed to be touched. His warm, soft hands caressed her tender flesh and slid slowly, far too slowly over her bosom. He began to massage her, kneading her carefully and then finally her nipples were between his fingers and he began to onion them carefully. She moaned softly, slipped her bottom on the table and suddenly felt one of the bellows under her left thigh. She hesitated only seconds, then she pressed her thigh firmly on the table top and the dildo, which was deep in her pubic area, puffed up again. She moaned comfortably, pressed her chest tighter against his hands and lifted her left thigh again slightly. What had previously seemed terrible and almost painful to her now felt wonderful. She felt filled, fulfilled and subjugated by him. Her life in front of the fundus cellar was becoming more and more distant.
She pressed her left thigh against the tabletop again and the intruder continued to arch inside her.
Then she felt his hand between her legs and opened willingly. He stroked the inside of her thighs, slowly working his way to her most intimate. She trembled, never before had she come closer to climax so slowly and at the same time so intensely.
She moved her pelvis as best it could in the iron grip of the chastity belt, the one in front The dildo had reached a size that could be clearly felt. He had reached her crotch and his fingers glided virtuously like those of a gifted pianist along the edge of the crotch shield, he didn't even try to get under the warm metal, but caressed the last bit of free flesh before the chastity belt covered it with its iron grip. She was out of her mind, she wasn't just damp anymore, she literally swam away. His tenderness, the insane tightness of the chastity belt that pressed on her most excitable places and the two dildos almost robbed her of her mind. She felt him kneel down between her legs in front of the table and press his face into her crotch. She could feel his tongue sliding along the side of the shield again, while her pussy was on fire just inches away. Her honey had to run in rivers from the tiny holes the shield allowed her.
She clenched her hands in his hair.
"Unlock me, please, unlock me, I can't take it anymore."