A Wife's Story
author unknown; posted courtesy Master Cloud and slave aeris
Chapter One: In The Beginning
My name is Janice. I am 35 years old, and have been married to Jesse for almost 16 years. At Richard's prompting, I have begun to chronicle my experiences as a submissive wife. This is my story.
Since the time we were married, there has hardly been a week that I have not been subjected to some form of bondage or discipline, usually of a public or semi-public nature. Where other couples hide their activities in the bedroom, ours tend to be semi-hidden under my street clothes. Where others might have bondage or domination sessions once a week, I am in some form of bondage almost constantly. Let me give you an example of what occured a couple of weeks ago at Carole and Richard's home.
Richard had started to work at my husband's law firm, and they had invited us over on a Saturday evening for dinner and drinks. We had finished dinner and were sitting around the fire when Richard commented on my long, black leather skirt. "You certainly couldn't run Bloomsday (a locally sponsored run) in that tight skirt and heels." I immediately blushed and began to stammer a reply when Jesse interjected "Go ahead and tell him why you are wearing that skirt."
"I can't," I protested.
"Well, then, I will. You see, I talked to Richard earlier this evening, and he said he suspected that you were not wearing that skirt exactly voluntarily. He then told me a little about his and Carole's relationship. You will find that Carole is no stranger to discipline either, although not of the type you are experiencing."
Jesse proceeded to tell Richard and Carole that this was one of my discipline skirts, that when he came home on Thursday evening I had made a rude remark to him, and that he had sentenced me to 72 hours in this skirt.
"You'll see", he proceeded, "that this skirt fits fairly tightly almost down to the ankles. As there is no kick pleat, Janice is restricted to about a fourteen inch stride. Moreover, she can't pull the skirt up around her knees. The wide belt that is affixed to the waist of the skirt closes in back over the top of the zipper opening, and can be cinched tight with the roller buckle in back. Not so obvious is this stud which extends through both layers of the belt in back and is affixed with a hidden padlock tucked inside the waistband. While I admit the skirt looks unusual, it is not so unusual in today's fashions that Janice can't occasionally wear it to work or outside when she is being punished. Besides, it adds to the humiliation factor of the punishment. You'll also notice that Janice is wearing 5 inch heals. Here, at the ankle strap, is a 'Chicago Rivet' that screws together, holding the ankle strap on. While it may be removed with a screwdriver, it is difficult for her to take them off without my knowing. Janice must almost always wear shoes with at least a 5" heel continuously when she is being punished."
"You see, when I lock Janice in this skirt, she can't really remove any of her other clothes if they are properly fastened before the skirt is locked on. This allows me to force her to wear a number of other restrictive garments and insure that they won't be tampered with."
"What do you mean, other restrictive garments?" asked Carole.
"What I mean," answered Jesse, "is that in our sixteen years of marriage, we have developed a very clear understanding of who wears the pants and who wears the panties in the family. I completely control what Janice wears, or, as the case may be, doesn't wear. She is subject to my discipline as if she was a child. In fact, that is the only way she would have it. We have developed a fairly elaborate system of discipline, centered in great part around her being forced to wear restrictive or punishment garments. Some of it is a carryover from her childhood, but a lot is, frankly, sexually based, and is a turn- on for both of us."
Jesse continued, "As an example, I might require that she wear this skirt in summer with a heavy sweater, fastened by a snap under her crotch so it can't be pulled out. Under this, she would probably be made to wear a rubber bra, slip and panties."
"Rubber bra, slip and panties?" asked Richard with amazement.
"When we were first married, we spent a month in England. There we discovered rubber clothing. You can get just about anything in rubber. It has a clinging, sensual feel, but also can be quite restrictive, and when worn for extended periods, quite punitive. Since than, I have ordered a wide variety of rubber garments, some of them ordinary, and others not so ordinary. They have the advantage that even if Janice gets hot and perspires, her other clothes don't get wet or soiled."
"She also has a number of restricting items in leather. For example, I had her sew a discipline nightdress out of soft black leather. It has a fairly formfitting top, an attached hood with eye and mouth openings that can be zipped shut, long sleeves with buckles at the wrist for fastening around her back or to other items, a locking waist belt, and a locking zipper at the hem that allows me to completely secure her legs and feet inside. Oh, yes, it also has zippers across her breasts so I can have access when she is restrained."
"Of course, there is the consideration of how Janice dresses for work when she is being punished. Since she is a secretary to the president of a local computer manufacturing company, she can't wear anything too suggestive. However, on my insistence, she told her boss certain things about us, and he understands. In fact, I think he looks forward to having Janice come to work in other than usual attire, since she reports that he always seems to pay more attention to her then. Janice has worn this skirt continuously for the last 48 hours, including work on Friday, except for 5 of 6 short breaks for bathroom needs, my needs, and changes of underwear and other clothes."
By this time, I was blushing furiously, and wanted to run out the door. Even though I enjoyed being disciplined by Jesse as much as he enjoyed doing it, I just knew that Jesse and I was the only persons in the entire world doing this sort of thing, and that Richard and Carole would think my husband and I were crackpots.
Carole, sensing my discomfort, blurted out "At least you can move around in that skirt. Richard sometimes ties me up so tight I literally can't move a muscle for hours."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. There was actually somebody else that was restrained in some manner by her husband. Richard jumped in and added "Yep, whenever Carole does something that I don't approve of, she gets a spanking, gets tied up in a variety of postures, or gets locked into a tiny closet off our bedroom." "And I can be awfully naughty some times, Carole added with a smile.
I just stared at Carole and finally said something like "I just can't believe that I have actually met another couple who does this sort of thing."
Throughout the evening, Richard had difficulty keeping his eyes off my breasts, which were covered by a red angora sweater. I am used to men staring at my breast, which are quite large and extremely pointed, especially when I am cinched in at the waist the way I was that evening. Towards the end of the evening, he blurted out "you just have to tell me just what kind of bra you have on under that sweater. Your tits seem, well, so perfect." While I hate the word "tits", I had enough to drink and was so into all of the stories that I was reading in the magazines that I just calmly said "It's actually a red rubber leotard with bra- cups molded in. There are circular cutouts at the end of the cups to allow my nipples to stick through. The leotard fits tightly down to my knees and zips in the back."
"Tell him what else you are wearing", said Jesse.
"Under the leotard I sometimes wear a couple of pads or, like tonight, a disposable adult diaper in case I have an accident. Jesse says that part of my discipline is having to hold my bladder for an extended period. You may have noticed that Jesse was pushing me to drink more earlier in the evening. And, yes, before you ask, the diapers have been necessary tonight"
"Tell him what you wore to work yesterday," said Jesse.
Blushing again, I told everyone that when I got up, Jesse let me take a bath, and then made me put on the following: rubber panties with a 4-1/2" dildo attached (I cut a small hole in the diaper for the dildo before putting on the panties,) double busk leather longline corset that extends from well below my hips to high, padded half cups that force my breasts to up and out, a black, tailored silk blouse that clung to my breasts, and thigh high boots with 5 1/4 inch heels. At Jesse's prompting, I told them that the boots fastened to the corset, so I couldn't remove them during the day, and that they were very hard to walk or stand in, especially with the dildo and the tight skirt. I went on to explain that the dildo in the panties was shorter than some of my other ones I was sometimes forced to wear, and was softer, and tapered at the base, so I could wear it for a full day without real discomfort, even while sitting down, but that it was hollow with a ball suspended inside that vibrated whenever I walked and kept me in a constant state of arousal.
When we left, Richard and Carole gave us a few Bondage Life magazines to read. I came across an article in issue 21 involving a girl and her two sisters being disciplined with a straightjacket that brought back memories of my childhood. Now that I am beginning to analyze it, I am beginning to understand why I "let" Richard discipline me the way he does. I feel an affinity for people like "Sue" of Ohio. I am feeling so good about knowing that there are others like me out there that I just have to share what I now believe molded me the way I am today.
I grew up in an Eastern Washington farming town that also has the State agricultural college. My father was a professor in the biology department, and my mother had a custom dressmaking and alteration shop on the first floor of our house. I was the oldest, with my two sisters being 2 and 3 years younger. I remember graduating from eighth grade in 1968, and thinking that I really hot stuff. One day during late fall just after I had started the ninth grade, my mother told me to run down to the fabric store to get some material she ordered. I made a flip remark, and she swatted me. I don't know why, but I slapped her back. She just stood there, with a stunned expression on her face, and moved to grab me. I made a move to kick her, but she just yelled "stop!" I suddenly realized that I had just gone too far. I'll never forget her words: "You obviously think that you are getting too big to take my discipline. I guess I'll have to show you a little restraint - literally. Go to your room until your father comes home - NOW."
Waiting until my father came home always meant a spanking. Lately mom had let my father do the disciplining of me, as mom had complained that I was getting too strong for her to hold and spank. From my room above mom's shop I could hear her sewing and humming to herself. I heard my father arrive, and they were talking in hushed voices. About a half hour later, I heard footsteps, a knock on my door, but it was mom, not dad.
"Come in," I said meekly.
My mother opened the door and stood there, holding what appeared to be a long sleeved dress made of very heavy grey wool.
All she said was "strip." I stood looking at her trying to figure out what was going on. "Take off all your clothes, NOW. I have something for you." After I was naked, mom came over and held up the dress. It was floor length, very tight and straight, had two leather belts, one attached around the waist, buckling in front, and the other around the hem of the dress, buckling in back. The buckles were like those found on dog collars, which I soon discovered could be locked with a small padlock. Metal "D" rings were attached to the ends of the sleeves. A heavy duty zipper ran from the neck to the hem, and I noticed that it unzipped from the bottom. It was unzipped, and mom told me to put it on. Awkwardly, I slid my hands into the sleeves, which seemed too long. Mom fastened the zipper at the high neck, zipped the back down to the hem. and then fastened the bottom belt through a large leather loop attached to the zipper. I heard a "click" of a small padlock. Next she cinched up the belt at the waist, but before she locked that buckle, she looped a length of chain through the two "D" rings on the sleeves, and brought them around my back. When she finally snapped the lock shut, my arms were drawn behind me, being pulled about my middle by the chain which locked to the waist belt.
"There," she said. "That will keep you from hitting or kicking me. This is your new punishment dress. Whenever you are bad, your father or I will sentence you to a certain number of hours or even days in this dress. You will notice that you can walk with short steps, but you can't run or kick. When you need to do work, or we decide to give you a little freedom, your arms can just be released. You can also imagine that spanking you will be easier as I can just unlock the bottom belt, unzip the dress to the waist, but keep your arms and feet restrained. For your little outburst this afternoon, you are sentenced to 24 hours in your punishment dress,and a spanking tonight before bed. Since tomorrow is Saturday, there should be no problem."
The next 24 hours were pure hell. The dress itched. I had to be unzipped to go to the bathroom. I was allowed my hands at meals, but not at night. Before I went to bed, my mother simply turned me over her knee, unlocked the bottom padlock, unzipped the dress, and gave me a series of swats with a paddle. She then re-zipped and locked the dress, and rolled me onto the bed. Since my arms were tied behind my back, I couldn't rub my behind, and the coarse wool added to the discomfort.
That dress was used on an almost weekly basis for the next two years. The longest time that I was sentenced was for 7 days just after school got out, as my grades were bad. It was hot outside, and we didn't have air conditioning. Mom even made me wear a sweater under the dress as added punishment.
By the time I was sixteen, I had pretty much outgrown the dress, as I was developing my figure. Much to my horror, my mother made me a new one, but with an additional refinement of a wide leather collar at the neck (locking, of course) and additional reinforced "D" rings at the elbows, back, and sides. This allowed her to restrain my arms in a variety of ways, depending on how severely she wanted to punish me. My younger sister inherited my old dress.
At about this time, mom had begun to insist that I wear a girdle to school and whenever I left the house. She was really into fashion, felt that "proper" ladies always wore "foundation garments." For her, this was a variety of corsets, which she wore on almost a daily basis, but she let me by with a variety of girdles and corseletts. She also began to insist that I wear heels whenever I went out, unless I was actually doing something physical like a sport or bike riding.
One day, after I was sentenced to a day in my punishment dress and a spanking, she handed me a long leg, high top very heavy panty girdle. Inside the seat of the girdle she had sewn two circular patches of a very course material that she said was "horsehair." These were directly over the cheeks of my buttocks and extended down the back of each thigh. With a smile, she referred to this as my new 'hotseat' girdle, which, she added, was to be worn whenever I was told to with my punishment dress. I can still remember the first time I pulled that too-tight girdle up after being spanked that night. My bottom was on fire the entire night.
When I started dating, mom bought me a girdle that looked somewhat like my "hotseat" girdle, but instead of horsehair inside the seat, the crotch was covered with a wide piece of leather. "This is not for punishment, she said, "but to help keep boys' roving hands out of where they shouldn't be. This is your "dating girdle", and you are to wear it at all times whenever you are out with any boy, even if it is in the afternoon after school. I never want to catch you out with a boy without this on."
When I started my senior year of highschool, I had been going out with Jesse, who was a college freshman, for about two months, when I came home late from a date one evening (we had been parked down the street, and were into some heavy petting) and tried to tiptoe in. Mom and Dad were waiting for me in the living room with the lights out. Dad simply stated "you're over an hour late" as he turned on the light. Mom looked at me, and then at the large handbag I was carrying, and then back to me. I was wearing a rather tightfitting sweater-dress, and suddenly realized what mom was thinking.
"And why is your purse so full, Janice," my mother asked. I knew it would be worse if I lied, so I just pulled out my 'dating girdle' and bra from the purse and dropped them on the floor. I don't know who was madder, mom or dad, but mom immediately said "into your punishment dress and hotseat girdle NOW, and stand at the foot of your bed. Ten minutes later, mom came in, gave me a terrific spanking, made me pull hotseat up, zipped me down, fastened my arms tightly around my back so my elbows were almost touching, and pushed me onto the bed.
The next day, Saturday, I was told that I would be in my punishment clothes for the next two weeks, except when I was actually in school. Later that evening, mom presented me with a new version of a 'dating girdle': this was a very heavy, boned, full corselet with legs going to my knees, leather covered crotch and breast cups, leather shoulder straps that crossed in the back, and a locking zipper over back laces that all fastened with a small padlock in the back. "THAT will keep your modesty, Janice," she said. "In fact, you can get used to it by wearing it to school for the next two weeks."
Every weekday morning for the next two weeks, mom would wake me up, release me from my punishment dress, give me thirty minutes to shower, and then help me into my new 'dating girdle.' I would step into it, pull it up around my thighs, and fit my breasts into the leather covered cups. Mom would then lace up the back, pull the shoulder straps tight, and zip the cover down over the shoulder strap buckles and laces, and fasten the zipper with a miniature padlock. I was than allowed to dress in whatever else I wanted to wear that day, but I found that it was hard to wear anything low cut or see-through, as the leather cups completely and tightly encased my breasts almost to my neck. As soon as I came home, mom released me from the 'dating girdle' and fastened me into my punishment dress. If I had housework or homework, my arms were unrestrained or loosely tied at the elbows behind my back. But, once dinner, my homework and housework was done, mom always fastened my arms around my back with the locking chain. Of course, I had to make all sorts of excuses to my friends why they couldn't come over.
Hardest of all was explaining why I couldn't go out after school to my boyfriend, Jesse. At lunch, we would sometimes get together, and he would try put his arm around me and hug me. After about a week, he asked me why I was so distant and didn't seem to want him touching me. I was too embarrassed to tell him that I didn't want him to find out that I was locked up in a corselet designed by my mother to keep him out. A couple days later, Jesse unexpectedly ran his hand under my blouse and discovered the lock, then the leather bra-cups. I could have died. I thought he would think I was a freak and dump me.
Instead, he just got kind of quiet, started breathing hard, and just looked at me. I could tell he was totally turned on. "I don't believe it", he said. "You're actually locked into that thing."
"Yes", I replied, "and all because you undressed me in the car last week and my parents found out. Now I have to wear this damned thing whenever I go out with any boy, including you."
"I absolutely need to see you this weekend", he said.
"I can't go out," I replied, not wanting to tell Jesse about my punishment dress.
"I'll come over."
"I, I'll have to ask my mother," I stammered. When I got home, I begged mom for a reprieve from my punishment dress on Saturday night so Jesse could come over. Mom said she would think about it. The next afternoon, which was Thursday, she said "I have a compromise for Saturday night. You can have Jesse over to watch TV if you wear your 'dating girdle' and absolutely behave yourself. If I catch you doing anything naughty, you are going right into your punishment dress, even if it is in front of your friends.
Saturday night was uneventful, except for Jesse's unusually close attention. At about ten, mom and dad went to bed, which was early for them. I now suspect that mom was laying a trap for me. About eleven, mom suddenly opened the door, and found me in Jesse's embrace with his hand up my skirt, pawing at my leather- covered crotch and breasts. By his look, I think Jesse thought he was going to be killed by mom. To his surprise, mom just said "Wait here. I am going to show you just what your actions are going to cost Janice. Janice and I will be back in a few minutes." I was marched to my room, and my punishment dress was locked on over my 'dating girdle.' I was marched back down to a flabbergasted Jesse.
"Janice got two weeks in this for her actions with you last time. For what happened tonight, she gets an extra week. But, she is certainly safe and secure from you now. Go ahead, finish your movie. Just be sure you are out of here by one o'clock." I'm sure you have a lot to talk about." With that, she went to bed.
I could tell that Jesse was excited by the bulge in his pants. I told him the history of my being punished this way. It felt good to be held in his arms, totally restrained, but at the same time, unavailable. By the time one o'clock was near, Jesse had his head on my lap and suddenly, I felt his penis pressing on my face and into my mouth. I had never done anything like that before, let alone having sex, but lying there, with my whole body and arms restrained, it seemed so right.
Jesse and I dated for the next two years, until I was a freshman at college, with the exception of about 4 months when we broke up. During that time, Jesse came over a number of times when I was sentenced to my punishment dress. It seemed to turn both of us on to have him be with me when I was restrained. The enforced chastity of my 'dating girdle' (mom had made three versions by this time, all equally restrictive) seemed to add an excitement to being together, although we did manage to have sex a few times in those two years. Both mom and dad liked Jesse, and as Jesse became more integrated into our household, my discipline became more open. Even though I was in college, mom and dad disciplined me the same. The frequency of spankings decreased, but hardly a week want by without at least a few hours in my punishment dress. In fact, mom had made a new 'hotseat girdle' with a locking waistband that she would often make me wear out even if I wasn't spanked, since I could be punished during the day that way without anyone else knowing.
One day when Jesse was over for dinner (I was, as usual, locked in my 'dating girdle'), I muttered "shit" to something that Jesse said. Mom overheard it and said "Jesse, I don't think you should take that from Janice. Go upstairs and lock her into her punishment dress for the evening. You'll find the padlocks unlocked."
Jesse looked at me with a smile and said "get up to your room NOW," as he gave me a slap on the behind. I meekly did as he told me, not quite understanding the lump in my throat and the breathless feeling I had. Two weeks later, Jesse asked me to marry him, and I accepted.
The night before the wedding, Jesse and I were over at my house, and mom came into the room with a big package and a little tiny package. "Your father and I are going to give you a nice wedding present tomorrow, but I have a couple of presents for you that really isn't appropriate to open at your reception." She handed Jesse the small package. Inside was the set of keys to all the padlocks on my girdles and punishment dress that mom had guarded for all these years. "You will find all of Janice's special clothes, except her punishment dress, which will be handed down to her sister, packed in a suitcase for you. Now, you open this, Janice," she said, handing me the big package. Inside was a replica of my punishment dress, all in dark brown leather. It was different, however, in that it had defined breast cups for the bodice of the dress. Each cup had a zipper around it's base, and a short locking zipper extended about 18 inches below the waist in the front. " Now that you are married, I know you'll want to exercise a husband's rights, even when you are disciplining Janice."
Even today, that dress mom made is used on me by Jesse. In addition, he has purchased, or had me make, the following items, which we still use regularly:
Countless tight skirts, both long and short, and countless tight fitting dresses for street wear;
Four different leather corsets, two of which are locking and have crotch and shoulder straps;
Seven other corsets, mostly heavily boned. One is a "sleeping corset" that goes from my shoulders to below my knees.
Seven leather panties, three of which are locking, and two of which have dildos attached;
Thirteen rubber panties or girdles, six with dildos.
Four leather bras. One is fairly "normal," is white, and can be worn under most anything. Another in thin, white kid leather has circular cutouts for my nipples and a band around the base of each breast that can be tightened and force my nipples out the hole. The other two are much heavier discipline bras, lock on, and have either studs or horsehair inside the cups;
Five rubber bras, two with cutouts;
Three full leather dresses for street wear (all have hidden waist locks);
Seven leather skirts, all with hidden waist locks. Four of them are for street wear, and the other three for just discipline. One is my punishment skirt described previously, one is my "indoor punishment skirt" which is tighter, has a crotch strap inside for attaching a dildo or whatever, and has a short locking zipper in the hem to allow me some freedom to do housework when undone, and one is just like it but lined completely with horsehair.
Nine rubber skirts of varying length;
Eight rubber dresses;
Three rubber bodysuits, which cover everything except my head, feet and hands. Two have open breast cups and a zippered crotch, and are usually worn under street clothing.
Three rubber corseletts like the one previously described;
Eleven rubber blouses;
Six rubber pants, all with attached feet and a high waist, three of which have attached dildos (These pants are often worn under other clothes);
One leather, one canvas, and two rubber straitjackets;
Two leather nightdresses, one as described above, and one without a hood;
Five rubber nightdresses;
Three pairs of leather pants, all locking, one with a short dildo;
Five chastity belts, three in leather, one in metal, and one that is a molded fiberglass and rubber over the type of material used in bullet proof vests. All have the provision for the attachment of dildos, and of course, all lock. The special fiberglass and rubber belt has a magnetic lock that requires a "key" that can't be copied, and has little enough metal in it so as not to set off the airport security alarms when we travel;
Sixteen different belts for street or dress wear, all with hidden locks. Four of them are about 5 inches wide, and have laces to pull them exceptionally tight before locking;
Seven necklaces or chokers that either have a hidden lock, or can be closed with a series of tiny screws;
A chain bracelet that can be partially undone and placed around the other wrist, making sort of a "handcuff."
Jesse was never into tying me up with rope or straps, like Richard and Carole seem to enjoy. What turns us on most is to have me dressed in public with some of my restrictive garments on. I like sitting in church with a tight leather corset, its strap pulling at my crotch, and having no one but Jesse and me know. I like, or rather should say, get turned on by the feeling of running for a bus in my long tight skirt and 5" heels, being forced to take quick, mincing steps. The skirt and the heels in themselves are uncomfortable: it is the idea of being made to wear them in public, and "involuntarily" being restricted, that I enjoy.
On our bedroom dresser is a notebook that Jesse uses to record all of my Misdeeds and infractions of his rules, which each carry a certain number of demerits. I am also responsible for recording anytime I do something that I know is an infraction of his rules. While I may be immediately punished for an infraction, as was the case before we went to Richard and Carole's, Jesse usually waits until friday night to total up my infractions and decide on a punishment for me.
A good example occurred about three months ago. During that week, I had committed the following indiscretions:
Served dinner late twice (10 demerits)
Talked excessively on the phone (5 demerits)
Overdrew the checking account (25 demerits)
On that friday afternoon, as I was coming home, I ran a red light and got a traffic ticket. This gave me an additional 50 demerits, for a total of 90. Anything over 30 demerits means a sentence of at least a week of fairly solid punishment. The ninety demerits earned me three weeks.
As you can imagine, the three weeks were pure hell. For the duration of the three weeks, I was forced to wear my leather punishment nightdress to bed in addition to anything else, and to always be in at least 4-1/2 inch heels during the entire waking hours. The penalty for being caught without heels, even for a minute, when this rule is in force, is 24 hours in my locking 6" boots.
During the first week, I had to wear the lightweight rubber catsuit with the 2" breast cutouts under my street clothes. I wore opaque black nylons to hide the legs. The only other thing that Jesse insisted that I wear during the day was a tight sweater. When I came home, I could change into anything as long as it was latex or rubber, but the catsuit stayed on the entire week except for a 10 minute morning shower.
During the second week, I was required to wear my white leather bra with the nipple cut-outs under a variety of silk blouses or a thin, white sweater (no slip, of course). I was also required to wear a rubber hobble skirt that came just below the knees under my street skirt.
During the third week, I was forced to wear a corset constantly, except for my morning shower. The corset that Jesse chose was the very tight leather corset that extends just below my hips and has a high, padded shelf for my breasts. When I went to work, I was also required to wear a chastity belt with a short, wide dildo that causes me to walk with an exaggerated sway.
Even if I am not being punished, there is a rule that if I go out alone (except to work, or briefly to the store, etc., I must wear a locked chastity belt. I am never allowed out at night, shopping for over an hour, or to a social function without my chastity belt. Even if Jesse isn't home, I must lock myself in before leaving, and wait for his return to release me.
If Jesse is going out of town, or if I am taking a trip out of town overnight without Jesse, I am locked in the special fiberglass and rubber belt for the entire time. Jesse made this belt himself about 6 years ago. To construct the belt, he made a plaster model of my anatomy from the waist down, with a wide space between my legs, and form molded the belt about this, using the type of fabric in bullet proof vests, impregnated with both a plastic-rubber and fiberglass resin. It was then coated on the inside with a rubber material that is fairly soft and non-chaffing.
The result was an extremely strong (it can't be cut with a knife) belt that completely covers my private areas with a solid rigid shield, but is flexible about the waist and over my buttocks to allow sitting without much discomfort. It is also designed to allow biological functions (except sex, including masturbation), having a very narrow slit for urinating and splitting up over my buttocks so it can be worn for an extended period. Since it is totally waterproof, I can shower and keep it clean. The longest I ever wore it without taking it off was about three weeks. It is smooth enough, and the magnetic lock flat enough, that it isn't obvious under clothes. Jesse sometimes makes me wear it with the short, soft, suspended ball dildo, so I am constantly aroused.
I have pretty much gotten used to the idea of wearing a chastity belt. Similar to the feeling of being out in public locked into one of my tight skirts, I get a thrill out of being in public with a chastity belt locked on. Sometimes, when I am riding the bus to work or going out, a passenger will brush against me and feel the hardness of the belt. Over the years I have had many men, and a few women, keep jostling me as we stand on the bus or subway, trying to figure out what I am wearing.
Jesse is always trying to figure out new ways to keep me in hidden public bondage. He is now working on a chastity belt similar to my molded fiberglass/rubber belt, but is electronic! He told me that it will be totally controlled by a radio-pager system that will be molded into the body of the belt. It can be controlled by him for about a 50 mile radius from our city, as the pager uses some kind of a radio relay network. He can either call the pager number by phone, or directly send a signal to the belt if I am within about a mile. Depending on the code that he puts in the phone page or transmits by a little transmitter the size of a cigarette pack, he will be able to:
1. Unlock or lock the belt;
2. Cause a miniature vibrator pressing against my clitoris to vibrate for a given number of minutes;
3. Cause an electrical shock of varying intensity to various parts of the belt, including a dildo if attached;
4. Cause a slowly pulsating electrical current to flow from the dildo in the region of my PC muscle to cause it to contract. He has done this now with a special dildo, but it can't be remotely controlled. The effect is mind blowing, as it is like doing involuntary Kegal exercises. After about 50 involuntary contractions a couple of seconds apart, it is impossible to concentrate on anything else. You really can't feel the current, except for a little tickle, but the PC muscle just keeps contracting away.
I know that Jesse is trying to get the belt completed before our vacation. We are planning a spring ski trip to Whistler, a Canadian ski resort. I don't ski all that much, but enjoy the resort activities. I know that Jesse will have me in the belt most of the time, as he says that it will be such a surprise when the vibrator or the PC current goes off. I've seen the dildo that he has molded for this particular belt, and it is actually quite small, so it shouldn't be uncomfortable at all to wear around. I just hope he doesn't use the shocking device in public, as I don't imagine that I could control my reaction; however, he said that would be just for discipline (I'd better be on my best behavior).
For the trip, Jesse also had a black leather one piece ski outfit made for me. It actually looks like one I saw advertized in a ski magazine, but this one naturally locks, and has special pockets into which my hands can be placed and unobtrusively secured with a buckle at the pocket. To anyone sitting by us, or walking by, it would just look as if I had my hands in my pocket. Since my hands are both secured in the pocket, I can't reach the buckles to release myself. I can imagine sitting in Nancy Greene's Pub in the evening with Jesse, my hands closed in my pockets, and him activating the vibrator on the chastity belt. I know it will take all of my concentration to look composed while having an orgasm.
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