Exposing Amy Ch. 04

I had thought of wearing my chastity belt as I hung out my washing, or as I let the milkman fondle my body, but they both seemed a little too personal at this juncture. It would be best to test myself by just allowing one man to see me. As my clothing accidentally came apart, I remained 'innocent' and 'ignorant' of the fact that this man now knew that I was imprisoned in a chastity belt. The sheer staggering embarrassment of revealing myself in this way to an old man, had my wetness liberally running from my pussy, with no panties to soak up the moisture, it ran down the hard surface of my vaginal cage and down my legs.

I had arrived at this point slowly over the days after forcing my husband into a cock cage. After buying my new device on the internet, I had waited for a private moment where I could be alone and I changed my life.

Stepping into the waist band and pulling the belt up to and into my ass and crotch, my excitement was building. I reached between my legs and pulled up the front piece of the belt over my swollen mound to encase and envelop my sex. The leather lined steel plate fit around the swell of my vagina snugly, pressing against my sodden lips and my engorged clitoris. It fit me like a glove and pressed against my outer vagina like a sensual caress.

I clipped in the padlock and clicked it shut, then turned to the mirror to get the first ever sight of my new and frightening life.

The Powerful sexual imagery was stunning. I had taken another step forward in discovering my sexuality and as I took in the grotesque, yet sensational vision of myself in captivity, the huge sexual symbolism hit me, the astonishing and alarming vision created in me an exhilarating and all consuming arousal.

Naked except for my new belt, I looked truly erotic and dare I say beautiful. Being in such a hugely symbolic condition evoked such strong feelings and emotions. My poignant appearance epitomised the historical, symbolic, submission of a woman in chastity.

It felt like every single part of me was alive. Everything that had driven me over the last months and years, the humiliation, the embarrassment, the shame, the desire to feel inferior, to be owned etc. was encapsulated in that one moment and that one vision. The sight of the timid suburban housewife dressed so, was devastatingly erotic and immoral and looked sensational.

I wore my chastity belt in the daytime around the house to try and calm my nerves. I had slowly become accustomed to being enslaved and had got used to the presence of the belt. I even found that at home with Paul in the evening, (before I disclosed this new condition to him,) without my sexual prison I began to crave the belt on me and didn't want to be without it anymore. I now felt ready for the next stage of my transformation.

It was inevitable that the effects of this momentous decision would overshadow the old style humiliation that had sufficed until now. I had outgrown allowing men to see me naked and it was no longer enough of a shame to excite me. Being simply naked didn't cut it now, yet being imprisoned in a chastity belt still had to be shared with others for it to generate the feelings I needed. It was an incredibly personal and intimate lifestyle, the humiliation was so intense to a woman so enslaved, that it could only ever be achieved with shameful exposure.

I did not even warn my husband.

The following day I waited for Paul to leave and I quickly readied myself. My legs were shaking and my whole body was trembling as I stood in my dining room awaiting Ron the milkman to enter and change my life forever.

My heart almost exploded, when there was suddenly a quick rap on the door, it quickly opened and as he had done so many times before Ron entered.

I took a deep, frantic and fearful breath, took the robe from my body and on leaden legs that seemed incredibly reluctant to obey me, I walked into our kitchen.

Ron froze, unable to say or do anything. The vision before him was one that few people ever experienced in their lifetime. I drew on all my strength and reserves and started talking to Ron as I had on countless previous occasions and as though nothing was untoward.

To embarrass yourself was a turn-on yes, to feel inferior and beneath men was arousing yes, even to disgrace yourself with sordid sex was exciting yes, but now, being naked except a chastity belt, in my own kitchen, in the presence of my milkman, my humiliation/excitement levels were elevated past all previous experience.

Graduating to this level with my 'accomplice' Ron, seemed to be the most natural and exciting progression to make. I tried my utmost to maintain the detached, distant and unconscious charade, which had served us well up to now.

This was impossible.

As Ron took me in, totally and utterly stunned, all he could manage was,

"Oh sweet fucking Jesus."

We moved towards each other and Ron reached for my breasts (which were not so much dripping, as actually auto spraying) I tried desperately to stay detached from the reality of him touching me, when his hands slid down my sides, lingered and played with the shiny steel waistband. His hands went down and caressed the metal and leather curved strap that now defined me, cupping my mound as he did so. It was when he turned me around and caressed the swell of my ass cheeks as they hugged the back strap that it became obvious that the old game and charade was finished.

There was now way to stay in denial, exposed to my playmate in this condition. Although the denial had gone, I still found that I needed to keep the distance between us sexually, as I wanted to maintain this surreal and unique relationship as what it always had been. I still did not want a sexual relationship with him, I just wanted him to be part of my new vocation. As we made small talk and I acted as though being naked in a chastity belt was the most normal thing in the world.

The following day, being a Saturday, we completed the creation of me as a woman in captivity.

I had kept my chastity belt on until Paul came home on the Friday night. The revelation and the subsequent heart-stopping and earth-shattering emotion and atmosphere between us, was unbelievably intense. Throughout a totally sleepless night, we soul searched, discussed and examined ourselves in a tearful heart-to-heart.

We realised that there was no point just Paul and I playing this game, it would have been one simply of bdsm and orgasm denial and would have missed the true purpose of this degeneracy. The introduction of a third party elevated this far beyond a couple's sex game. I wanted and needed another man to be involved to give me the shame and humiliation I so craved.

The next morning I stood naked and in 'pussy prison' about to enact our new found humiliation. Paul stood hidden, prepared to enter the surreal game with the milkman, naked and caged. When Paul entered the kitchen, none of us had any idea how to proceed, Paul walked into the kitchen and said 'good morning' as though nothing was untoward. The fact that his wife stood naked before an outsider, sharing the stunning vision of herself in a chastity belt, seemingly lost on him.

After the most crushingly humiliating initial couple of times, we all settled down to my new place in life.

Sexually, it was absolutely vital that we kept Ron at arms length and maintained a safe distance. For now he had to be a 'prop' in our scene. The moment we accepted him, this would become nothing more than a cosplay for adults and not the humiliating crushing experience both me and my husband so desperately needed.

It was midway through one of these embarrassing morning chats, after I had planned the next stage of my enslavement and I needed a man to master me, that I took in a deep breath and with shaking nervous hands I said.

"Please, please own me," as I handed the keys to my very sexuality, to

Ron the milkman.

Paul was stunned.

There came a time in the progression of things, where we realised that it was no good the keyholder or master simply seeing me dressed in my chastity belt, this was not enough. The whole point of being a keyholder was that they had to take control over the removal and refitting of my chastity belt. Ron was the sole arbiter of when I was allowed to be free to masturbate, or have sex with my husband, or when I was allowed to orgasm and in whatever way he chose. At this point we knew we would be crossing over into an open and conscious relationship, not a physical sexual relationship but a relationship that had sexuality at its core.

This was not conventional bdsm, I was a shy, timid, suburban housewife living an experience which very few women will ever know. I was a married mother of three playing an insane game that had grown to control me. We didn't want this to become hard core, we didn't want to subject ourselves to many weeks or even months in chastity, my condition in incarceration provided me with enough arousal to be sufficient. We would endure our forced abstinence for a couple of weeks and then Ron (who from the very outset understood our fetish) would permit us to have a weekend for mutual release. This weekend we would fuck like animals, neither caring a jot for their partner. We each were so deprived of sexual release, that all we wanted from the other was a cock or a wet pussy to sate our carnal needs. I would suck Paul's cock like a wild whore, not for his benefit, no fuck him! I just did it to get him hard so he could fuck me again and again.

After a weekend of being fucked like dog, I couldn't wait for Ron to put me back in my chastity belt. Being in such a condition was arousing enough but the actual act of our milkman physically putting it on me, the drama of it, was so humiliating that I craved having the belt removed by him - purely so he could go through the ritual of locking me up again. Paul offered to do this but I needed it to be Ron.

It was shortly after this that I took Paul out of chastity. This had become my role and function in life and my husband sharing it with me diluted the experience for me. Him also being in chastity detracted from me, I was all that mattered, I was a modern woman imprisoned in a chastity belt for god's sake, that was plenty sufficient for me. I didn't need to control him, I craved being the one controlled.

Being incarcerated in this manner I couldn't shave my vagina, so I grew out my bush again, rather by default than by design. When I had been shaven the strap over my vulva just simply hid everything but when sides of my bush began to show, it had the effect of enhancing and emphasising the vagina hidden behind the prison.

One day whilst we were all in the lounge I moved to Ron's side and said,

"Please Master, may I clean myself properly?"

I needed to shower, sponging myself for over a week was okay but not ideal.

When Ron had me stand before him and inserted the key into my chastity belt I was trembling. When the belt was finally taken off by him, he eased the leather lined metal from the swell of my vagina. This was a big moment as there was now no pretence about my pussy being exposed to him. He insisted that he watch me shower to make sure that I didn't masturbate and then we went back into the kitchen.

Ron asked me if I was all clean, then he demanded to inspect me.

Laying back on the table and opening my legs for him was incredibly humiliating, this was not like laying back for a man to fuck me. I lay back on my elbows my legs spread obscenely, watching as Ron approached me. He opened me with his fingers, my inner pussy flowering open to him completely awash with my excitement. Ron respectfully adhered to the rules, he did not touch me sexually, he pinched my labia between finger and thumb and pulled me each way to make sure I was clean. If this had been a fuck, I would not have been anywhere near as excited, being inspected in this humiliating fashion was electrifying.

The moment arrived, Ron put me back into my chastity belt.

A strange man, this old milkman, the owner of my sexuality and my physical being, shared the incredibly intimate and intensely private moment with me. Ron performed the wonderful act of imprisoning me, making me step once more into the waistband, he pulled it into place and ran his fingers along the edge against my super heated and aroused pussy, making sure that there was no gap to allow anything (my fingers!) between my body and the belt. He then locked my pussy away, denied to my husband and even denied to myself. I had given ownership of my very vagina to this man.

Ron had been a wonderful master, he instinctively understood our fetish from the outset and didn't try to take advantage of us. He only took from us what we wanted and needed to give. For this I believed that he merited a reward and I found myself being very affectionate and loving towards him, after all, this man was sharing a secret intimacy that very few people in the world would be experiencing.

One morning when we stood talking in our kitchen, I took his hand and led him to a room a little more private. I surprised him when I kissed him but I totally shocked him when I sank to my knees before him and assumed my submissive posture. I unzipped him and took his rapidly hardening cock from his trousers. He had an incredibly thick cock, he wasn't massively long but his girth was wonderful, the foreskin dark due to its thickness, which covered a huge leathery helmet, a typical old man's penis I thought.

I don't know who got the greatest pleasure when I leant forward and took this old man's cock into my mouth. I sensually enveloped his turgid length between my eager lips and drew him into my wet warm mouth.

Due to me being in chastity, therefore my feelings, emotions, and pleasure being of no consequence, my entire focus was on pleasuring this man and this cock. I sucked him as sensually, lovingly and as sexily as I knew how. I just wanted my mouth to serve him, I just needed my mouth to be solely for servicing this mans cock and his needs, my own pleasure was irrelevant and not even considered. Ron suddenly grabbed my hair and held my head steady, he rhythmically thrust his hips forward and fucked my willing mouth. When the semen burst into my enthusiastic, grateful and submissive mouth it validated who I had become, it served to reinforce the role I now had and that the servile woman on her knees in front of her keymaster, was here solely to pleasure his cock.

All that is left to explain is how much I revel in my role as a subjugated and sexually controlled woman. As I have tried to explain, it is not just the sexual abstinence and subsequent release that is the game here, it is the very wearing of such a device, its erotic symbolism and the pleasure it brings. When I go about my everyday life standing at bus shops, standing in a group of women chatting in the supermarket and just about every mundane daily task you can think of, it thrills and warms me deep inside to know that I am different from the others. If only they could know the shy, timid mother they know as Amy, was actually imprisoned in a chastity belt.

I suppose the way things finally developed was inevitable really. Throughout this story we have been at great lengths to get across the fact that Paul was not a cuckold and that I was not simply a slut. Over the years however, that humiliation-based gratification was beginning to wane. What was once embarrassing for us, had slowly been nullified and the extreme embarrassment we had gained from things at the beginning, had become too common place to arouse the same feelings.

Throughout the belittling of my husband it was becoming obvious that it needed to become more and more sexual. We had a relationship with Ron that had lost its ability to shock or shame us. For us to get the same amount of humiliation from the situation, was taking more and more to achieve.

Action was needed.

As my husbands arrival from work was imminent, I finally allowed Ron to become my lover, I finally allowed him to fuck me.

He had performed the wonderfully exciting ritual of unlocking me and peeling the chastity belt from between my legs. Ron assumed that he was simply about to have me suck him off and forced me to my knees. I sucked his cock dutifully and submissively until I heard the car in the driveway. I stood and firstly sat on the kitchen table then lay back propped up on my elbows.

Spreading my legs and making my vagina flower open and expose my crimson wet labia, which in turn flowered open to reveal my velvet and sodden inner vagina, I whispered to him,

"Please baby, please fuck me and make me yours. I need you inside me."

I had enjoyed stretching my lips around his wonderfully thick cock time and again as I serviced my keymasters dick but this time, it was a different set of lips that felt themselves stretching and straining to accommodate his wonderful dick, as it slowly forced them open.

Timing being everything, it was just as Paul entered the kitchen that I begged Ron,

"Oh please fuck me Ron, my pussy belongs to you and I need you to claim what is rightfully yours."

The words were for the benefit of all three participants.

Paul watched in horror as Ron slid into me and listened to the animal groan of ecstasy that came from his wife's mouth.

That wonderful cock dragged my labia back and forth with ease, as the pink flaps stretched around the girth of my new owner. Ron didn't reach the very top of my pussy but that didn't matter I had never felt so full.

Paul watched as Ron took his time enjoying me, watching his cock take me, use me and claim me. He watched his cock, sodden with my excitement, slide from me, then stretch open my labia and my greedy entrance as he slid slowly back inside me.

As my orgasm began to build I carried on setting the scene and laying down the law for times to come.

As my new owner picked up the pace and as his orgasm neared, my body and especially my breasts flayed around as I spread myself so obscenely on that table. I begged and pleaded with Ron, the usual crude pleading for him to fuck me, use me, abuse me, claim me, make me cum with your huge cock, all spilled from my slut mouth.

As we came together I didn't wait to explain the new rules to Paul, I wanted him to hear them, at the point of his wife climaxing on the cock of the milkman, as he emptied his copious amount of cum deep inside the new sluts cunt.

"You can only ever fuck me when Ron gives you permission and you can only ever fuck me immediately after Ron has cum inside me." I gasped between orgasmic moans.

Paul frantically replaced Ron between my legs, his cock was hard as a rock and straining for my ravaged pussy. As my husband pushed his dick into me, my pussy was stretched, awash with my juices and flooded with Ron's cum. I barely felt him.

Time and again when this scenario played out, Ron would stand beside me, as my useless husband rutted me. I would deliberately look only at Ron, I would turn my head away from Paul, hold Ron's hand, squeeze it and look into his eyes. This was my way of further humiliating my husband. By barely acknowledging his existence and only having time for Ron, even when Paul was fucking me, that 'love' towards another man was a bigger torment to my husband than watching me being fucked. As the milkman stood besides me, his thick heavy manly cock swaying and covered in the cocktail of our fuck, I would clean his manly length with my greedy and hungry mouth.

As Paul banged his cock into me as hard and as fast as he could I reminded him,

You are now a cuckold, and all you can ever have of me, is my new lover's sloppy leftovers. Do you understand?"

"Oh God yes my love," Paul replied and set the new arrangement in stone when he literally begged me to force him to wear a cock cage again, it would complete his new found status.