Author's Note: I wanted to write a story exploring the fetish of "humiliation", as I didn't think I completely understood it. As such, it occurred to me to write it from the point of view of a dating profile or blog, as by definition it would be humiliating to admit humiliating things to the public eye. It also means that some things may not be completely to taste to all readers, as I thought, things would have to keep pushing the characters boundaries to stay humiliating. Anyway, and despite this, I hope you enjoy the story, and look forward to feedback in the comments or via email. Thank you for reading!

08/15/13 21:32:18 PM

Hello!

I'm starting this blog today under the orders of my Mistress. I've been locked in my steel chastity belt since July 2013, and

I'm so horny that I'm worried I'll simply melt into a throbbing clit behind my belt.

My Mistress C says that I should share my experiences with the internet community, so if you'd like to chat about kinky things, please send me a email. Mistress also monitors my inbox, so if you have a dare or suggestion, she may make me carry it out.

I am a slut who craves humiliation and lack of control. I am lucky that my Mistress was able to take control of my urges. She believes I deserve to always be horny in my belt, and encourages any of you to help turn me on further.

That was incredibly embarrassing to type. Thank you for looking at my blog.


8/16/2013 11:51:27 AM

So, first thing's first, background:

I've owned my belt for a long while. I loved reading chastity belt stories, so I bought a cheap leather one years ago, and used it as just a toy. A prop mostly, I'd slip it on, and deny myself an hour or so, then cum and cum, and I loved it, but it was uncomfortable, and not very secure, and, after trying to use it to lock toys inside me, I found it wasn't that hard to get off or around.

Eventually, I couldn't stand it anymore, so when I got a sudden influx of cash, I used some of it to order a steel belt. I love my belt, but again, it was more of a toy, not a lifestyle. I loved fantasising about being stuck in, but I would never have admitted to it, or actually have the guts to give the key to anyone. And I thought that's how it would stay, except eventually I met my Mistress C.

We were just friends, but we realised we had a lot of kinky things in common,. Lots of our chats would eventually get very very naughty, until eventually I confided in her about my belt, how I love it, and what I get up to with it. She insisted I take her to my place right away and show it to her.

When I did, I asked if she wanted to try it on, but she said she was nervous and wanted to hold all the keys if she was going to do that. So I found her all three, and she tried to slip it on, but it was too tight for her. So, she asked me to model it.

That was July, and I've been belted ever since. It was a joke at first, but I think it's grown into so much more. I love it, and I hate it. I'm living out my fantasy, but I'm so desperate to cum.

And let's just say that my Mistress is an excellent Mistress.


8/18/2013 10:17:54 AM

Wow! Lots of emails! Lots of very interesting people, and I will try to get back to as many as possible. Also lots of very scary suggestions.. the thought of Mistress C using any of them makes me quiver in a lot of ways.

A lot of people have been asking me about cleaning. I am as careful as I can be; I have a hand held shower head and I'm as thorough as a belted girl can be, but obviously that's not quite enough, and Mistress C is very much the 'all thinking' kind of Mistress.

Once or twice a week she does remove the belt for cleaning, but at these times I am always bound. She would prefer me as close to completely immobile as possible. Meanwhile, I'm always left to wonder: Is it worse to have it always locked on, or more of a tease to have it removed from time to time, but completely unable to do anything about it when it's off?!

Thank you for letting this slut into your internet community, even if it's just you pleasuring yourself while you read my blog. I look forward to more of you making me flush! (Sort of)


9/2/2013 11:02:10 AM

Hello Friends. It's been a while, and a few of you have been asking if I'm still in denial.

Yes! is the frustrating answer. My one month locked day has come and gone, and I'm still so desperate that I could just melt.

I thought that by now I'd be used to it, but I still can't seem to go five minutes without desperately gagging for orgasm, and texting my Mistress C as such. (As per her orders of course) It doesn't help that she's wonderful at reminding me that I'm completely at her mercy, of course.

She visited me at work last week, ready for my early lunch half hour. She escorted me directly to the ladies, and slipped into a cubicle with me. She ordered me to strip down to my belt, and I complied; not that I'd say I have any kind of resistance left, at this stage, but I'm completely willing to do anything in the hopes of my long overdue orgasms.

She took my bra, top and tights, and slipped them into her bag. I knew therefore she had a change of clothes planned for me, and I was paranoid that it would be incredibly obvious for the rest of the afternoon. And that that would mean, for some reason, I'd be fired. As she was pulling replacement clothes from her bag, someone else came into the ladies. I froze, certain, again, that this would lead to me being fired for reasons that, admittedly I hadn't thought through. To be honest, apart from my belt wearing, I've never done anything remotely naughty at work before, so I was a bit on edge.

Once we were alone in the room again, I attempted to whisper all this to Mistress C, who, patiently listened, smiled and then reached into her bag and slipped my cock gag into my mouth and fastened it. I can't say this made me feel any better, but it clearly ended the conversation. Anyway. Oh, yes, replacement clothes.

So, she had produced a black turtleneck top, and a pair of dark thigh high stockings. On the one hand, I was pleased that there would be something at least similar colour to replace my tights, on the other hand, stay up stockings never exactly 'stay up' for me, so I'd have to do a fair amount of fiddling. As for the turtleneck, I would just be able to claim I'd spilt something on my shirt for the second half of the day.

Of course, I didn't realise until I had it on though that the material was a bit rough. So, in addition to constantly rubbing my nipples until they felt raw and I wanted to scream, it also did a wonderful job of showing up that they were erect and pointing.

Once I had my skirt and jacket back on Mistress C removed my gag, smiled that evil smile of hers and wished me a pleasant rest of my day. I am hers. And she knows it.


9/6/2013 9:39:30 AM

Yet another thing that I often get emailed about is anal. I'm sure that I'm preaching to the choir to my readers, but I do like anal. A lot. A whole lot.

My first experience with anal was also one of my first with submissiveness, way back in high school. I was at a party at a friend's place and had had a few drinks.. I can't be sure, but it was certainly one of the first few times I'd been drinking with friends with no parents around at all. Anyway, towards the end of the night, I found myself in a bedroom having a long deep and meaningful conversation with a disabled friend from school.

He was paralysed from somewhere near the waist, and was wheelchair bound, but he was never the sort of guy you ever heard bitch about it. In fact he never really talked about it at all. Even now, (and keeping in mind the rest of the story) my resounding memory of him was that he was a sweetheart.

Naturally, being teenagers, the conversation found its way to talking about sex. I was mostly quizzing him about how much he could actually do, and was very upset to discover that the answer was 'not much'. I felt very terrible for him, was a little bit tipsy, and so when he explained that 'he likes to watch', I agreed to perform for him; I'd do whatever he ordered.

He had me strip, he had me pose for him, and eventually, he had me play with myself in front of him. Even now the thought of doing that makes me flush; I'm not sure I could do it now! Anyway, as I was playing with myself, he asked me to slip a finger into my ass.

I remember loving the fantasy of doing everything he ordered without question, and so, I obliged. On his say so, I slipped a finger deep in my pussy to lube it, and then slid it into my ass while the other hand franticly rubbed my clit.

I will never forget the way I came and came then and there. Between the submissiveness of doing exactly as ordered, the buzz from the drink, the fact that I was performing and then the feeling of clenching down on the finger in my ass when I came.. it was very very strong. And from that point, I was frequently playing with my ass even when masturbating on my own.

So, in answer to many of your questions, yes, I have access to my ass in my belt, and yes, I do play with it. A lot, given that it's one of my only ways of stimulation. But I can't cum from anal alone, no matter how much time I've dedicated to trying (and there's been a lot). I have, on multiple times, convinced myself that my orgasm is building from rubbing my nipples and slipping a slim toy into my butt, and, it does feel incredibly close... but it's just not enough to slip over the edge, and I end up in the same place as always: Red cheeked, horny, frustrated and ever more desperate.

My Mistress C loves it; just last night she had me try yet again, while she watched, sitting, smiling at the end of the bed, knowing that she owns me completely. Rather like the boy in his wheelchair, really, only this time, I'm the one who can't cum, not him. I can't believe I feel this way, but it seems rather fitting!


9/9/2013 3:13:41 PM

It might be a little recursive to say, but humiliatingly, I do really get off on humiliation. It's another thing people often email me about, seeing as, again, quite humiliatingly, I put it so high on my interest list.

Of course Mistress C knows this about me, and it's one of her favourite ways to get into my head. She often will choose my clothes for me, to make sure my belt is slightly more visible during my day, or more exposing, or more uncomfortable. She has me keep a rather large dildo in my bag in hopes that I'll be hyperaware whenever I need to get anything from it (Not to mention the fact that I can't really use it at all!).

I really don't know how long my chastity and denial is going to last. I'm sort of scared of any answer to that question: It's heartbreaking if I never get to cum again, and it's heartbreaking if all this kink and domination were to end. So I try to sneak around asking that question to my Mistress C sometimes.

Two weeks or so ago while I was cuffed to the shower rail for cleaning, having just been bitterly relocked into my belt, I suggested politely, and definitely not rebelliously, that Mistress C, 'couldn't possibly think that she could keep me unable to control my orgasms forever?' She smiled that smile of hers again, and reminded me that 'Darling, I control your whole mind and body for as long as I please'

I don't know if she had already had it planned, or whether she was responding to what she perceived as disrespect in my comment, but she certainly proved her point that weekend.

On Friday night she took me to a movie, but before we left she dressed me, in a tight corset beneath a fairly tight and low cut pink top, a medium length black skirt, and... (this is actually very hard to type so publicly. And now I'm wet. As usual.) ...an adult nappy. At the movie, she very casually handcuffed my wrist to the armrest and then proceeded to feed me two very large soft drinks.

Between the tight corset and the sheer quantity of liquid, I tried my best to hold out but failed near the end of the film. Mistress C didn't even say anything about it. She uncuffed my wrist when the film was done, and ignored it completely as though she didn't care if I'd held it or not; though clearly she must have known I couldn't have possibly done.

Worst though was later, on my own in my flat, finally getting changed, showering and taking the nappy off. I was so unbelievably turned on by how she'd just used my body to humiliate me that I was desperate for her to throw me down, and fuck me somehow, someway, right there, humiliated in my nappy.

I could not even have imagined such things two months ago. I'd have been disgusted at the idea, I'd have clicked away if it was in a story I was reading, I'd have been embarrassed to have someone else mention it. Of course, now that very disgust has me horny and dripping, still in my desperate stew of lust.

My Mistress C does indeed control my body and mind.


9/11/2013 9:59:00 AM

I really never know whether to identify myself as bisexual or lesbian. For the purposes of my blog profile, I'm listed as a lesbian, because my Mistress C tells me that I'll be accosted by less rude people in my inbox that way.

In actual life however, I do find both genders sexually attractive, so in the strictest sense, I guess I'm bisexual, but I don't ever think of men as potential relationship material; I can tell when they're attractive, and find them that way, but I don't seek to connect the way I do with women. Women seem like the people you date, men seem like the people you just fool around with sometimes. Someone once told me that that's how a lot of straight women feel about other women, which makes me think that perhaps I fall on the lesbian side.

My current situation really focuses that I think. For all the rest of our relationship and rules, I have to sort of describe my Mistress C as the woman I'm dating. I don't really have much choice about that, but being with her makes me so happy, that I don't think I want a choice about it. Yet part of that relationship is that I am forced to constantly be horny, gagging for any kind of sex I could possibly get. I'd feel humiliated by it, but I'd gladly let a group of guys use my body in anyway, provided A) my Mistress C ordered it and B) I'd be able to cum.

Of course, like all things, my Mistress C knows this about me, and uses it to control me. The very same weekend as my last post, she had us go out to a club on Saturday night. I was in a very small skirt, and a tight small top, so the waist belt of my belt was very visible. But the club was dark, and it was really only people who knew what it was that noticed, but I was so hyperaware; I'd never had it this visible before. I was dancing with whoever Mistress C told me to, some men, some women, until finally, she took me to the back of the room, kissed me deeply, then slipped my blindfold on.

She took me to a back room. I have no idea if it was a private lounge or the men's or ladies toilets, I never got to see. She took my skirt and had me kneel. There were tiles beneath my knees, and the door I heard open and close quite regularly, so I have no idea how many people saw me. Someone came up to me, and thrust a pussy in my face, which, now that I think about it, I didn't even question for a moment not eating it out; I just started licking. I have no idea who it was, whether it was Mistress C or a random stranger. Once they had cum, (I assume by the quaking!) she, whoever she was, left.

Then there was a cock to suck. And this is where I have to question sexuality, because I'm not ashamed to be dating a woman, and I've never had any worries sleeping with a man... but this random cock was humiliating. I felt so used.. and of course that had me so unbelievably turned on. I sucked it for all I was worth, and swallowed his cum deep down. All I could think of was how unbelievably turned on I was, and how I desperately wanted a cock inside me, or a tongue on my clit. Oh, and that I adore how wicked my Mistress C is.

After he was done, and left, my Mistress stood me up and escorted me back out into the club, and, once we were sitting down in a booth she took my blindfold off. Finally she flat out told me that she wasn't going to answer any questions I have about what had just happened, but not too worry; she had be careful to make sure it was safe.

And that the guy was definitely someone we both know.

I now find myself wondering at every man I spend any time at whether I've sucked them off, and that they know everything about my kinky lifestyle. It's not just my mouth or my pussy or my sexuality or my mind that Mistress C owns. It's all of them.

And I think I love it.


9/20/2013 10:24:04 AM

A little while ago, Mistress C purchased a French Maid costume for me. I think the 'porn'-ness of it appealed to her, it's not so much that being a maid would be embarrassing, but rather that it's a sex costume; wearing it makes me a caricature of sex.

At this stage, she knows she could just put it on the bed in the morning and I'd be inclined to wear it, obediently. I'd simply beg that I didn't have to wear it out of the house. She didn't order me to wear it though, she gave me the choice.

I was working late shift a week or so back, and she was expecting deliveries while she'd be out for the day, so she had be stay at her place so I could sign for them. She asked me if I'd like to wear the french maid costume all day or not. I really couldn't deal with the idea of opening the door to however delivery men in a skimpy sex costume, so I said no. She smiled and told me 'very well'.

Instead, she had me dress in a small-ish skirt, a low cut top and no underwear. She had me sit in her front room, near-ish to the door. She slipped in a new buttplug, much bigger than most of the ones I'm used to. This plug also had a little loop at the base, which she locked a small chain to, and then connected the other end to the wall mounted heater. Her only order was that I was only allowed to touch the plug to reinsert it.

When the doorbell went for the first time, I rushed to answer it, knowing that this was the humiliation Mistress C had planned for me, and that not receiving her package for her would be one of the few instances I've given for Mistress C to consider anything like 'punishment'. The chain was long, but not nearly long enough to get to the door, so to answer it, I had to pull at the chain until the plug pulled out of my ass.

Signing for the packages I was certain my ass was gaping wide open under my skirt. I was certain the giant plug on a chain sitting on the floor not far behind me was visible, and I was certain the delivery man noticed that something was going on, based on the fact that I rocked from foot to foot trying to deal with the feeling from my rear, no doubt making my chest sway from side to side in front of him.

There were four deliveries, and I wondered, which was no doubt her intention, whether the maid costume was the right choice. Later that night, she had me stay over at her place, and again, asked me if I'd like to wear the costume for her now, or keep to my ass play. By that stage it'd been hours since the humiliations of the deliveries and I elected not to wear the costume again. She seemed pleased by this choice, and proceeded to pound at my ass with her new strap on, which she said, she was pleased that I had chosen to try out.

Last weekend she finally convinced me to wear the costume. She came over for one of my bi-weekly cleanings, so, as usual, I was cuffed to the shower rail, gagged, naked, spread and begging for just a little stimulation on my poor denied clit. She finished, locked the belt on, and during my now routine squirming and pleading following the locking, she slipped a thin thing into my ass. I quickly learned it was an enema nozzle, which she proceeded to use to fill me up. I've never felt anything like that before, so to say that my squirming continued was something of an understatement.

Once again, she gave me a choice. Ever since I wrote about the most humiliating things she's done to me, she's been talking a lot about getting me back into the adult nappies, seeing as they had such an affect. She offered this now; I could be put back into the nappies to empty into there, or I could empty into the toilet, but then I'd be expected to be a good maid and clean the bathroom. That would mean the sex costume.

Tottering around the house cleaning as a chastity belted denied sex character made me feel like an object. A one dimensional character from porn. But on the other hand, the fact that it was my choice and that it was completely about the head game surrounding making me choose made me feel like my mind was completely owned by Mistress C, and that now she was including me in my denials and torments; that I was an acting engaged part of my submission.

I feel loved in that way; she doesn't want a broken empty drone of a sub. She wants me; a humiliated, horny, denied, gagging, dripping sex, submissive obedient slave me, but me all the less. Feelings like this have been bubbling over a lot lately, and last night, I finally told her: I love my Mistress C.


10/31/2013 2:39:33 PM

Hello to those still left looking at my profile; I know it's been over a month since I last updated. It's been a very busy month, and I intend to explain why now :)

When last I updated you, I'd just admitted to my Darling Mistress C that I love her. At the time, she seemed pleased, but didn't respond in kind, and it sort of broke my heart a little.

It was still the very kinky relationship of sub and her Mistress, but the idea of me putting my little heart out there, and her accepting it as fact, but not returning it sunk me into a depression; I didn't really care that much if she ever let me cum again, and for the first time, I wasn't constantly distracted in my belt. Just locked away, but for the first time in almost two months, not horny.

It must have been obvious to her, but Mistress C didn't really comment on it, nor did she plan much in the way of her torments and tortures. In fact, there were much fewer of our constant contact in the next couple of days; less texts, less visits, less calls. But as per usual, she did have to come over for one of my bi weekly cleanings.

So there, I am, hands cuffed to the shower rail, legs connected to our new spreader bar, cock gag in my mouth, ready to be unlocked for the most unhappy cleaning I'd thus far endured in my chastity adventure, when before she even produces the key, my Mistress C kissed my neck.

Just the small soft spot, facing forward, just above my right collar bone. I looked up at her, from where I'd be staring down. And she was biting a lip, yet still smiling at me, in that way of hers. For me, that was the moment I knew, that although she hadn't said it, she didn't have to. She loves me too. I had a gush of horniness and pulled at my cuffs, but as usual, I was very well secured.

She unlocked my belt, but instead of beginning her very clinical cleaning, she instead licked her finger and began to play with my clit. It was the first stimulation it had had since I'd kind of causally brushed my finger on it as I secured my belt for her that fateful day almost two months earlier.

I melted. I moaned. I squirmed. It didn't take long for my orgasm to build, and a moment later, I could vaguely hear the clips on the end of the spreader bar rattle against the bathtub, as my legs started to shake. Which is exactly when she stopped.

I screamed into my gag, thrusting my hips at her hand, desperately needing just a little more to get me over the edge. She smiled again, and walked out of the bathroom for about ten minutes.. I screamed the whole time, muffled as it was around the large rubber cock in my mouth.

When she came back, she very carefully cleaned and shaved me, careful not to give any stimulation which may throw me over the edge, and then locked the belt back on. That was when she told me that it was too much of a bother for her to come all the way over to my place every time I needed a clean - no matter how fun it may be.

She told me I'd just have to move in with her.

Which I most certainly did. I gave my month's notice, which, has finally given up just yesterday, but moved in within a week.

Three days in to living at my new place, and sixty six days since I was first locked up, my Mistress C tied me spread eagle to our bed. I was wearing, as per her very detailed note, which I'd found when I came home from work, a pair of black stay up stockings, my very very push up black bra, thick slutty make up, hair tied up as though I were going to my own wedding, and of course, my beautiful shiny metal belt.

She tied my very tight, so I had basically no wriggling slack in the ropes, and then set up a camera on a tripod at the end of the bed, pointing down at me. I didn't need the make up for my red cheeks at that stage. She unlocked my belt.

Once again, she very very lightly played with my clit. But it didn't take much to have me shaking and quivering again. Yet, like the shower, she once again stopped. Though not for long. By the time I calmed down again, she started again. Six times she edged me until finally, she asked me to repeat myself.

I didn't know what she meant and at that point, I could not think at all. But she kept edging me, and as I got to the edge, she asked again, that I repeat myself. If I stayed silent or didn't give her the answer, she stopped, let me cool down and started again.

I don't know how long it took, but eventually I worked it out. I told her I loved her.

She told me she loved me too. And then let me cum.

Since then, I've only been the belt a day or two at a time. We're most often Sarah and Carla, girlfriends, and only sometimes sub and Mistress C, though, I often see that glint in her eye that says that sixty six days will not be my longest stint in the belt. Some time, I'm going to tie her up too.. but I suspect she'll have to give me permission first.

So, to answer the obvious questions,

Maybe I'll update this blog more. Maybe I won't. I do love chatting dirtily with people and swapping ideas in emails, but the thing is that when you're happy and busy, you don't spend as much time on the internet. Or I don't at least.

No, I'm not currently in my belt. My Mistress C has not demanded I wear it today.. although I am wearing an adult nappy presently !! :S