Page 29 of His to Enjoy
Of course there was. “What condition?”
“You’re not allowed to touch yourself while watching.” His words were delivered calmly, but I felt the blood drain from my face. Not touch myself? After what he’d made me do while watching Debbie’s story? The very thought of that restriction made my already sensitive body clench with anticipation.
“I…” My voice came out as a whisper. “I don’t know if I can obey that, sir.”
The admission burned my tongue, but lying to him felt impossible. My body had already proven its treacherous nature, responding to every humiliation with shameful arousal. How could I possibly watch an entire series without giving in to the desperate need that would surely build? The need that Scott himself had trained me to gratify?
“Thank you for your honesty,” Scott said, and I was surprised to hear genuine approval in his voice. “I have something that will help.”
He rose from his desk and crossed to a cabinet built into the wall near the windows. When he opened it, I caught a glimpse of various implements—paddles, straps, things I couldn’t identify but that made my stomach lurch with nervous anticipation. He pulled out something made of black leather and metal, turning back to me with it in his hands.
“Stand up and lift your dress,” he commanded.
I obeyed on trembling legs, gathering the white fabric up to my waist. The cool air against my bare pussy—still swollen and sensitive from his use—made me shiver. Scott approached with what I now recognized with horror as some kind of chastity belt, its leather straps and metal shield gleaming in the afternoon light streaming through his office windows.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Put this on.”
CHAPTER 15
Grace
The leather was soft but sturdy in my hands, heavier than I’d expected. My fingers shook as I tried to work out how it fastened, but the weight of his gaze and my own overwhelming arousal made me clumsy. The belt slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor between us.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, dropping to my knees to retrieve it. As I picked it up, I noticed something that made my breath catch—small metal fittings on the inside of the strap that I knew must be intended to cover my pussy and my bottom crack, attachment points for something—somethings—that could only be…
“Yes,” Scott said, reading my expression. “It has fittings for a dildo and a butt plug, to fill a girl up. If you’re a very good girl, or a very bad one, I might use those features with you. The constant fullness would be a reminder of who owns your pleasure now.”
The thought of walking around filled, plugged, unable to touch myself or find relief, made my pussy clench so hard it almosthurt. I stood slowly, the belt clutched in my trembling hands, trying again to work out the straps.
“Here,” Scott said, his voice taking on that patient, instructional tone that somehow made everything more mortifying. “The waist strap goes first. It sits just above your hipbones. This will look quite fetching with your suspenders and stockings, I think.”
He took the belt from my shaking hands and held it up, showing me how the leather pieces connected. The main waist strap was about two inches wide, with a sturdy clasp that looked like it could withstand considerable struggle. From it hung a wider strap that would pass between my legs.
“Turn around,” he commanded softly.
I obeyed, my bare bottom still burning from his spanking. I felt him step close behind me, his breath warm against my neck as he reached around to position the waist strap. His fingers brushed my skin as he adjusted it, making sure it sat properly on my hips, over my garter belt.
“Not too tight,” he murmured, fastening the clasp on my right hip with a decisive click that made me swallow hard. “You’ll be wearing this for extended periods. It needs to be secure, but not uncomfortable.”
The leather felt strange against my skin, foreign and constraining even though it wasn’t fully fastened yet. I could feel the weight of the crotch strap hanging down behind me, and my face burned knowing what came next.
“Now for the interesting part,” Scott said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Spread your legs shoulder-width apart.”
I shuffled my feet apart, hyperaware of how exposed I was, how his seed was still leaking from my well-used pussy. He knelt behind me, and I felt his hand guide the crotch strap forward between my thighs. The leather was wider here, maybe three inches, designed to cover everything from my clit to the top of my bottom crack.
“This needs to be positioned precisely,” he explained, his fingers adjusting the strap so it sat perfectly against my swollen flesh. “Too far forward and it won’t cover your anus properly. Too far back and you’ll still be able to reach your clit.”
The clinical way he described it made my whole body flush with heat. I bit my lip hard as he continued his adjustments, his fingers occasionally brushing against my sensitive areas, each touch sending sparks through my already overwrought nervous system.
“You can feel these, I think.” On the outside of the strap, he traced his finger over the metal fittings I’d noticed earlier, the ones on the inside of the leather. “The dildo attachment goes here, right at your pussy. And this one,” his finger moved back, pressing against the leather that covered my bottom-hole, “is for the plug.”
A whimper escaped me at the thought. He stood, pulling the strap up snugly against me, and I gasped at the pressure against my sensitive flesh. The leather was soft but firm, pressing against my clit just enough to be maddening without providing any real stimulation. When I heard another click, from the clasp at the base of my spine, I couldn’t hold in a tiny sob.
He stepped back a pace. “You won’t be able to remove the belt yourself. I have the electronic key on my handheld.”
I felt the electronic lock engage with a soft beep that seemed to echo through my entire body. The finality of it made my knees weak. I was literally locked into this device, unable to access my own body without Scott’s permission.
“The belt is made of aerospace-grade materials,” Scott explained, circling me slowly as I stood there with my dress still bunched at my waist. “The leather exterior is just for comfort and aesthetics. It’s antibacterial and fully washable. Underneath, there’s a titanium mesh that makes it impossible to cut or tear. The electronic lock uses military-grade encryption—any attempt to tamper with it will trigger an alert on my phone.”
