This story contains illustrations by Tangdraws and Plasma Dragon. All art is used, and sometimes altered, with permission and assistance from the artist.
It had arrived.
Marinella's heart had caught in her throat when she had found it, sitting just outside her door. And a note from her stepmother had confirmed it. Finally, after years of waiting, wanting and wondering, she had her very own chastity belt.
She had been awake for just under ten minutes when she brought it into her bedchamber and set it down upon the bed, her pointy ears twitching with anticipation as she sat down next to it, resting her hand upon it possessively. Briefly, she wondered how to attack the packaging -- her eyes scouring the room, searching the papers and journals on her desk for something sharp. Not seeing what she was looking for, she pushed herself to her feet, and -- separating herself from the box with great reluctance -- moved over to her work desk.
She briefly glimpsed her reflection in the mirror then, glancing furtively up at it as she pulled open the largest drawer and regarding with a slight smile the locked collar she had secretly worn on her neck since she, a few weeks ago, had dropped the key down a drain. She barely noticed it any more, but that didn't matter right now. Where was her knife? Her hair was in her eyes, and the most she could do -- at least, without liberal application of her styling brush and gels -- was ensure that it only covered one.
The half-elf's hand was shaking when she finally withdrew the ceremonial blade from the drawer. She looked at it for a moment then, her own face reflected by the shining crest of her adoptive family. Her hand drifted to her waist, and the undergarment buttoned around it -- a necessary measure, for Marinella's straight, hourglass figure afforded her a rump generous enough to fray the elastic of most undergarments from repeated stretching -- and, after a short moment, slipped beneath the front. Her fingers teased slowly over her opening for a moment as she slowly leaned forward, pinning the knife under one hand on the table as she lightly gasped from pushing her way inside. She cast a look over her shoulder, fearful of one of her maids entering -- but without reason. None would come unless called.
Marinella's fascination with chastity belts had begun at a young age. Since her late teens, she'd been enamoured by the things, but had thought it impossible to get one. And yet, over the years, from the beginnings of her obsession then to her academic study of biology now, she'd done an awful lot of research into the subject. She knew that these belts prevented all kinds of pleasure, intercourse and masturbation techniques. She knew that they locked in place, many with magical, pick proof locks, and were not possible to remove easily without the keys. She knew about all the kinds of locks there were -- one way locks, dual custody locks, sentient locks and more. She knew of noblewomen that wore, or were rumoured to wear, them. And she even knew that the angels of the Church of Virgo, private creatures though they were, used them almost religiously. As a matter of fact, quite literally religiously. It was they that she had sourced the belt from.
Despite all this, Marinella had never seen a chastity belt in person, nor worn one herself. And that lack of experience had created a large knowledge gap for the research minded Marinella. She had fantasised about it, mind you -- for years, she had imagined herself as a princess in a faraway land, locked into a cold, unforgiving chastity belt. She had imagined herself scratching at the metal, writhing in bed, shaking and prying at the waistband and lock, denied by her own overprotective guardians, by various imagined owners, by treacherous friends. She had felt, in her mind's form, the hard steel wrapped around her tiny waist, making it all but impossible for her to even get a hint of relief through its impenetrable metal. She had brought herself to many a climax imagining being unable to climax. Marinella was like that.
But she had never experienced it for real. And today, that would change.
Slowly, Marinella slid the knife down the side of her underwear. They sliced neatly away, landing on the floor and revealing her naked, soaked sex.
She had not touched herself yesterday, or the day before. Or the week before. For the last month, in fact, she had forced herself to go without, not out of any sense of duty but in preparation for her "first time" in a chastity belt. Her shaking hands attacked the box then, a sort of methodical craziness in her eyes as she slid the ceremonial knife across the top, around the edges, and through the last bits of tape, before gently lifting the four flaps.
It was beautiful.
In the morning sunlight, the angelic belt gleamed rather fetchingly, its polished steel casting a rather colourful image on the ceiling above as it reflected the light from the window. Closed but not locked, the key in the front of the thing was the first thing Marinella snatched up, casting rapidly aside as she lifted the whole thing out of its soft packaging and turned it about, letting it swing open in her hands.
The waistband was the thing that impressed her the most. Just under two inches thick, it followed the curve of her little waist exactly as she had painstakingly measured; its base flared out, built to sit comfortably on her wide hips, providing a truly three dimensional fit. It was an unusually tall waistband, lined at its innermost with soft cotton, both providing a great deal of additional security and housing the entire locking mechanism. When worn, it would surely cover her belly button, and more besides that. And this front shield, dangling below -- wide enough to stop all attempts to find a way around it, and, as Marinella quickly realised it when she lifted it up to look at -- adorned with a cross, the church's own symbol, that would sit comfortably upon the wall of steel between her legs. It was dome shaped at the very bottom, ensuring that the metal would not lie uncomfortably against her sensitive areas, not provide unpermitted stimulation -- instead, her sex would be suspended, yet encased, walled in by the thick metal on all sides.
Marinella's attention quickly moved to the lock, circular and recessed in the front of the waistband. She could easily see how it worked -- the whole belt would hinge shut around her body, and that round lock would be sandwiched between the two halves, sticking out of the front. When closed, two bolts would emerge around the lock, and two more from the left hand side of the belt, locking the two halves together around the lock body and making removal all but impossible. And the two halves would also hold the shield in place - it was quite fascinating. Almost instinctively, she felt the need to test it; she locked it shut -- click - then opened it again with the key - click. Locked it shut, opened it again.
Marinella felt hot. But she was in control here. Of course she was.
She simply had to put it on. She was by far naked enough -- owing to her lack of experience, however, it took a while to pull the belt into position. Shutting the waistband around her hips proved to be the most difficult part. She worried for a while whether she had wrongly measured herself -- but finally, everything slipped into place, barely held by Marinella's shaking hand. It was so tight and snug -- much more than she had expected -- and without being locked, nothing would keep it shut.
Locking the belt now had not been Marinella's plan. She wanted to get used to the feel of the thing, the weight of it on her hips, before locking it. But there was no other way.
Fumbling for the key, she quickly slipped it into the round little keyhole on the front, turning it sharply.
Click-click.
It was done. And in her elation, Marinella neglected to notice that the belt had not clicked twice before.
Tentatively, she took her hands away. The belt remained tightly in place, and she shakily took one breath, then another. Her hand slid down the front of the shield, her fingernails scraping against the cold steel. They moved gently over the moistened, holy cross shaped grate between her legs, moving slowly to the sides and pushing at them. Nothing. She could barely fit a fingernail underneath, much less even get close to her throbbing sex.
She got up then, feeling her hips carry the weight of the belt upon them as she stopped in front of the mirror, her fingers tracing over the smooth metal before feeling the indentation of the near invisible letters on the front. She looked down for a moment, angling her body to read the letters -- Featherlight. Nr. 002345.
Was that its name? It wasn't one she'd ever heard of. In fact, she'd found very little information on the church's belts at all, and the angel women she'd been able to speak to hadn't been very willing to tell her anything. Besides that, it was a rather unusual name, for if there was one thing that this belt was not, it was light. Nor discrete. It weighed on her as she lifted herself up. Still, it was far above any kind of belt she'd ever heard of in terms of security. That this was almost certainly just one of the designs that this secretive church had in their portfolio...
It was so fascinating.
Slowly, her hands both ran over the belt, gingerly clutching at it as she pushed at the tiny, rounded keyhole with her finger. Rather impulsively, she gave the belt a tug, trying to slide her thumbs behind the thick waistband. Nothing.
Marinella felt strange after that, but she couldn't very easily put why into words just yet. Perhaps it was the frustration of feeling that itch between her legs, and being completely unable to scratch. Or perhaps it was something else. The thought of being a chaste princess, an imprisoned lady of the manor, was very vidvid now, the illusions of her mind aided by the thought of the very real, very solid chastity belt locked firmly onto her hips. The hard steel wrapped her loins well, wound around her oh-so-tightly. In some ways, she felt slightly manhandled by it, controlled and imprisoned by the way it exploited the uniqueness of her hourglass shape to pass not simply around her hips, but melt its way down them as well. It made her legs look so long, her ass so round and red. It was a near-indestructible fortress, nay, prison, which she had trapped her bulging hips inside. It looked so well fitted, so uncomfortably tight... and yet it was somewhat comfortable, if a little snug. The soft cotton kept it from chafing too much as she moved, gently warming and protecting her sensitive skin as it lay beneath the cool, shimmering steel.
"I wonder if I could ever get it off without the key...?" Marinella asked herself, a sort of tense giddiness in her hushed tone apparent as the growing tension in her loins spurred false confidence. There was no way around the thick shielding at the front that her soon quivering hands could find, nor any way through the back, even as she followed the metal bar, with one finger, right to the foot of the shield that began between her legs. "I've never seen this metal before. How strong can these things -- agh - be, anyway?" Her voice already contained more than a hint of frustration as her hands went to the waistband again, giving it a rough tug, then another, as the belt silently refused to budge an inch. And as what had started as a whisper slowly turned into a silent scream, on it went.
In all the stories Marinella had read, she had never heard of long-chaste maidens struggling with their chastity belts; but she had long wondered if they did. She knew there was next to no chance that doing so would bare fruit, but it didn't matter. A strange madness came over her as she strained with all her might, arching her back and throwing her weight into the different parts of the chastity belt. Nothing. She rubbed at the front shield until it was soaked, trying to get enough pleasure to push herself to orgasm. She tried grinding herself her mattress, tables, stools, and even the window ledge. She felt nothing, but that was the point. Each moment upon moment of utter failure to defeat the belt made her so, so excited.
More than anything else, Marinella felt alive. Her whole body was hot, her joints tingling with energy as she ran her hands up and down her pent up hips in front of the mirror. Strings of moisture dripped down from her trembling, clenching sex, funnelling through the tight shield as she kneaded helplessly at her ass, unable to release even an ounce of the unbelievable tension she felt. Marinella hadn't realised until now how much she wanted, no, needed, to climax. But no matter what she tried, she couldn't even get close.
She shivered, taking a shallow breath as she smiled, flushed from exertion as her heart fluttered. Oh, this was too much. She needed to stop. She turned back to the bed and picked up the key.
She would try again once she had quieted her body, she assured herself. Building all that frustration, bringing herself to the boil before even putting the belt on -- that had been a mistake. She felt the need to lie down for a moment then, if only to finally catch her breath.
This first experience with a chastity belt had been breath-taking, in a frightening sort of way. This contraption, she reminded herself -- this steely metal undergarment, was locked onto her hips. And without the key, she truly, absolutely could not get it off. She had no access to herself at all, no ability to let out any of the frustration she felt, a steel wall erected between her and her own sex that no amount of strength could shift. It was a thought that thrilled her as she cast her mind back to the journals she had read of maidens locked into similar, if not less substantial devices than hers. To remain like this, the way she felt now, for months, if not years on end -- how would that feel? If she could not remove the belt... no, the thought didn't bear thinking about. Marinella knew she could, anyway. She had the key in her hand. All she had to do, right now, was push it gently into the lock... just like that... and twist-
...
What?
She sat bolt up right, stumbling to her feet, as she looked down at the key. She twisted at it again, but nothing happened. It wouldn't turn.
Marinella's heart stopped. She rattled at the key, at the lock, twisting it in both directions, turning it over. She kept trying for several minutes, wondering if she'd made some mistake, some obvious error, but it was fruitless; the chastity belt remained firmly locked in place, the key refusing to turn a millimetre.
And with that, Marinella's chastity truly began.
---
She should have examined the lock. What was she thinking?
It was not a one way lock -- thank goodness, for to be permanently belted would be an utterly hellish fate -- however, what it was seemed to be rather more sinister.
It was a rare yet not unknown type of lock, one that Marinella had studied before. It took two keys; one only to lock it, and one "master" key, which was the only one capable of reopening it again. But that made no sense -- her key had worked when she had the lock originally. She'd tested it, hadn't she? Hadn't she...?
How could the belt not be opening? She'd checked the key multiple times for flaws, breakage, knowing that there were none nearby that looked remotely like it for her to be confused by. It had been in her sight the entire time anyway. So what...?!
Her heart pounding, Marinella read the note again.
Here it is. A chastity belt from the church, just as you wished.
They seemed strangely amused by your request again, Marin, but they didn't say no this time. They weren't put off when I told them it was for academic purposes, not a fetish or anything. I hope that was okay to say. It's how I remember you putting it.
I'm not sure how I feel about the church. I think they made this belt made for an angel's body, though they said it should work for you.
Actually, I assume you're studying the thing, not wearing it, so that probably doesn't matter. I don't know why they insisted on making it to your measurements, rather than giving us any old thing they had lying around...
The church said they look forward to hearing your feedback, so do get in touch. They seem a little irritated by the fact you're "sending me for this", as they put it.
- M
She could scarcely believe the audacity of the church. Perhaps the most embarrassing part had been being forced to allow her maids to see the chastity belt. Though she had dearly wished to dress herself, Marinella's dresses were not a one person job to don. For better or worse, her maid had been the one to break the silence; "Don't worry, dear." She had chided, receiving Marinella's sullen glare with a gentle smile. "Lots of noble girls are in chastity now. I'm sure you'll get used to it. They design the dresses to hide them, see?"
For the best part of the day, Marinella had fumed at home. She didn't dare go out. Not wearing a chastity belt. It was a thrilling sort of horror to have such a thing locked on her not because of her will, but in spite of it. That need, that throbbing in her hips that had accompanied her for the last month, didn't seem to be something that she could ignore any more under the weight of the hard, thick metal. Several times she stopped in corridors, dipping into bedrooms, sometimes merely beating at her crotch before continuing in a banal attempt to dull the need she felt; far more often, however, she found herself lifting the dress, seizing at the moistened, slightly dripping chastity belt, and trying her absolute hardest to rub, to pry, to beat an orgasm from the blasted thing. Just one single orgasm would be enough. Just a single slither of relief for the month of tension her reddened, pent up hips carried. But her strength was not nearly enough, and even if it had been, the fit was perfect, so no matter how she tried, not a tickle of stimulation came.
There was something else. She had noticed something behind the cross-shaped grate over her sex, through which her arousal occasionally dripped. It looked like... gears? The locking mechanism, perhaps. But she could find no way to reach them, nor make them move.
It had been perhaps one of the longest days of Marinella's life. And so, when the evening came, and her stepmother arrived home, Marinella came to her with some rather choice words.
"...S-So what the fuck is happening here, mother?" Her rant ended, tears in her eyes. "The key... it doesn't work...!"
Her mother looked down at her, concerned. "I didn't think you would put it on..." she sighed. "You really haven't looked very much into that church, have you? I thought you were more careful than this, Marin."
Marinella scowled at her. "What are you talking about!?"
"Dear, you should have known enough about the church to know that they only grant access to their... hardware, in rare circumstances, and only for one reason -- to ensure their members comply with the church's religious laws. If you just wanted a chastity belt, why didn't you ask a blacksmith or, or go to the market-"
"Nothing we could have had made would have this quality." Marin snapped. "The problem isn't the belt, the belt is..." She gritted her teeth. "Very good." She sighed. "The problem is the key doesn't open it!"
"That's what I'm saying. The church are known for... shall we say, unorthodox methods of ensuring their followers practice. It's not known to anyone how far they will go, but I didn't think they would go this far. Of course, I didn't think you would put it on without testing the lo-"r"
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