I awoke seconds before the alarm went off. My eyes burned a hole through the LED display until the lights changed and the buzzing went off. Both hands were pressed between my loins, and I pulled them away to turn off the alarm and throw off the cover. I had a schedule to keep and I dared not be late.

I made the bed rather quickly. It consisted only of a small mattress laying on the floor, with a single pillow for my head and a single blanket for warmth. Some would say it was not much, but I felt proud of them. I had earned them for excellent service for my Master. I even had my own room (or large closet) that I could call my very own.

Next I made my way to the bathroom and started to brush my hair. It did not need to be fancy or perfect, I just needed to organize the loose stands and pull out the knots. I would have time to perfect it later. As I worked my mind wandered to my dream last night. Master was railing into me with his glorious cock, bringing me to orgasm over and over again. My hand wandered meekly down to cold hard belt locking my pussy away. I could still feel the heat radiating out, but could not feel the source.

Exiting the bathroom, I wandered into another room. A freshly laid out French Maid outfit was waiting for me, and I started putting on all the pieces. I was desperate for the pleasure that was always out of reach. But that desperation had its rewards. Every new climax with Master was the greatest climax of my life. It was just a shame they did not occur that often.

The push-up bra, dress, garter, stockings, and heels were all in black. Only the white apron offset the color scheme. I had laid out everything the previous night; Master's only contribution was picking the shoes. I was grateful for the small heel height. I would be in them all day.

I made my way to the kitchen. I placed a glass of juice and a toasted piece of bread with honey onto the serving tray. Master preferred a very light breakfast. Before taking it up I ate an apple, careful not to dirty my attire and disposing of the core in the waste receptacle. I glanced at a clock and noted it was time. I grabbed the serving tray and made my way upstairs.

At the doorway to the Master bedroom I stopped, and slipped off my heels. I did not want the loud clicking to wake him. But I was also not permitted to walk outside my room without heels (or Master's permission). I dropped to my knees and shuffled inside, careful to ensure that Master's breakfast did not spill.

I placed the food on the nightstand. He was still asleep, so I moved forward and kissed his neck, whispering, "It is morning, Master."

He roused in his bed before turning to me. I knelt silently by his bed waiting for instruction. None was given. Instead he pushed himself into a sitting position, and silently ate while he stared at me. His stare could mean anything. Maybe I had screwed up and needed to be punished, or maybe he was just in a masochistic mood. Maybe I was in for a day of humiliation, or extended tease and denial. Or maybe it was time for another glorious orgasm. Only he really knew which.

"Follow me downstairs," he commanded as he stood up. I nodded in recognition. On his way out he grabbed the key. That key. With no tray to carry I fell to my hands, and crawled out of the room. At the doorway I slipped my heels on and walked the rest of the way down.

He sat in his big comfy recliner. He clicked on the television to the news station. He only really cared about the weather.

"Sit," he commanded. I knew it was coming, and I felt both anticipation and dread. I grabbed the key from his extended finger and unlocked the lock to my belt. It fell to the floor. Cold air rushed against my burning love hole, sending tingles through my body. Then I turned to my chair.

It was a chair in only the loosest definition. It was a raised stool seat with a small round seat and no back. It was tall enough that when I sat my feet wouldn't touch the ground. In the center was a large dildo, held in place by a suction cup. It had taken some training to learn to properly mount the seat, and more than once I had tipped it over and fallen flat on the floor.

Luckily I was a veteran of the chair now. I climbed on with a practiced ease, but that did not make the sensations easier to deal with. It impaled me fully, and for several minutes we sat in silence watching the anchors on the TV. My body clenched involuntarily, aching for the simulation to build to something.

My skirt billowed over the edges of the chair, hiding the toy underneath. I brought my knees together, pointing them forward. I daintily folded my hands in my lap. I must have looked prim and proper on the outside despite the deviousness hidden within.

"Count to ten," he told me, "and if you finish early, you can come help me." He turned the TV off, and left the room.

By 'ten', he meant ten strokes of cock. I leaned forward, placing my hands on the edge of the seat and my heeled feet on the bars that run horizontal between the legs. I raised my body up, until the tip of the toy was just about to leave my dripping wet hole, then lowered myself until I was fully impaled once again.

"One," I yelled out. It did not matter if he could still hear me or not. I was an obedient girl.

"Two." I could feel every inch of it.

"Three." Every contour and every detail.

"Four." I would be so easy to pump it until I came.

"Five." I needed it so bad. I could feel myself shaking.

"Six."

I had to stop. I rested my bottom on the chair, filling myself to the fullest I could be. I was taking deep, heavy breaths. My pussy clenched and released involuntarily. I knew I needed to calm down before continuing. Stopping was hard. I felt like my stomach had been ripped out. I looked down, only to see my skirt hid everything.

I stayed still for a long time, forcing myself to breathe slower and slower. I knew I had to finish, and I wanted to get done before Master was finished upstairs. The best way was to do the last four in a row. But I had to be as calm as possible. I didn't want to have to stop again.

"Seven." I can do this.

"Eight." I will not disappoint Master.

"Nine." I will not disappoint myself.

"Ten."

As I finished my last count something unidentifiable escaped my lips. It was part scream, part moan, part whimper, and part sigh of relief. The last hurdle was to pull myself off the dildo and climb off the chair. When it was finally all the way out I felt empty.

I collapsed to my hands and knees. I was panting again. Cold sweat covered my body. I had finished, and I had not cum. I was happy, but regretful at the same time. I could still rub one out and Master would never know. The belt was off and my slit was free. It was only my trust and devotion to my Master that stopped me.

I looked over to the belt, where it lay on the floor. I had this one chance to clean the inside before going to Master. Standing up I grabbed the belt, taking it to the sink to wash it. When I finished drying it I quickly hurried back upstairs.

Master had finished showering and was getting dressed. He turned to look at me as I entered. His shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were undone. I held my belt in one hand and the key and lock in the other.

He reached his hand out, and I placed the key and lock in his hand. He nodded, so I positioned the belt in place around my hips and through my legs. Master locked it in place and pocketed the key. It was weird, because when the belt snapped in place I felt complete, as if I was incomplete without it. Perhaps I had been wearing it too long.

Master finished dressing for work, but he let me tie his tie on. I loved it when he let me do this. It was in such intimate position, with my arms around his neck, our faces so close I could smell his lips. When I finished the knot he reached out and kissed me. I needed that.

Master grabbed the rest of his things and headed for the door. I followed him, wishing him a good day and kissing him on the cheek. When he left I closed the door to keep the cold out, but waited on the other side until I heard the car pull away. I gave a long sigh, and prepared myself for the day.

My maid outfit was symbolically indicative tasks for the day. I would do the laundry, the cooking, and keep the house clean. I turned on a radio to give me something to listen to while I worked. It kept me entertained, but I still had lots of time to let my mind wander. And in one way or another it always wandered back to sex.

I kept a journal entitled 'Naughty Ideas' that I would add to whenever I thought of something that sounded interesting or that I wanted to try. I was putting new ideas and scenarios in every day. Master would occasionally thumb through for ideas of what to do to me. I wondered if 'be kept in a chastity belt' was one of the things I wrote, long ago. I honestly couldn't remember anymore.

At noon I grabbed a small lunch and walked to the TV. Everyday Master prepared viewing material for me. Looking at the playlist I saw that today, like most days, was porn. It was a good sign, because it probably meant Master was driving up my libido in preparation for another orgasm. Unfortunately, it also meant that today was not the day.

I started the playlist and sat down to eat my lunch. The first was a fairly typically porn shoot. There was a guy and a girl. The stripped down and the girl started giving the guy a blow job. Then they started fucking, then switched position and kept fucking, and switched positions and kept fucking. The girl obviously faked her orgasm, and the guy pulled out and came on her face.

I used to find these types of movies boring. Now that I was locked away they were like torture. I was almost mad at the girl for faking her orgasm. Did she not understand how precious a commodity they were for someone like me?

The second movie was a girl lashed down to a sybian, unable to move off. She continuously screamed into her gag and climaxed, for real, several times before an off-screen hand turned the machine off and the screen faded to black. This time the orgasm was a form torture, but I found myself thinking that I would still give anything to be in her place.

The last video I was well acquainted with, because Master had made me watch it many times. It was a home video of me, tied with my back on the bed and my feet in the air. Master was teasing me. First he used his fingers, then a vibrator, then his cock. He would bring me to the edge, and stop. In the end he fucks me with the vibrator pressed into my clit and tells me to cum. And I do. Hard. It was the last time I had cum, and Master had filmed it.

Watching the video I am glad I was tied up so I did not hurt myself. At the moment of climax I start to thrash and convulse, up to the point where I literally blacked out. I could tell the exact moment because I went limp in my bondage. Master, being the wonderful person he is, quickly untied me and held me until I regained consciousness.

The whole experience was like a dream. It was nice to have the video because I could not remember most of it. But when I came to I knew I had experienced a super climax, and I felt satisfied and accomplished in a way I had not felt in a long time. It was my reward for all the hard work leading up to it. And the next day I had agreed to do it all again.

The movie stopped, and I cleaned my plate and returned to my chores. I began preparing the evening dinner. Then I stripped from my maid's outfit and took a long, hot shower. When I finished drying myself and doing my hair I dressed in the evening wear Master had chosen for me.

First were the leather cuffs at my wrists and ankles. Little locks secured them in place. Next was the red dress. It was cut low to show a little cleavage, and fell down to about mid-thigh. It was just tight enough to highlight the contours of the belt underneath. Finally was matching red slip-on heels of a sensible length.

I set the table next, as the clock ticked down to Master's return. A few candles helped set the mood. I put the finishing touches on the meal, and moved to the front door as I heard the car pull up. I kneeled delicately at the entrance-way, knees apart, arms behind back, chest up, eyes down.

I heard his footsteps approach and the door open. I moved forward and placed my lips to the tip of his outstretched shoe. He switched feet and I gently kissed the other.

"Rise," he commanded. I pulled back and rose to a standing position, eyes still downcast. He placed his hand under my chin, pulling me forward and enveloping me in his lips. I melted into him. I desperately wanted to grab him and hold him against me, extending the kiss and giving many more, but I knew to wait. He pulled away, pausing to look into my eyes. When he turned and moved to the dining room I fell in line behind him, a huge smile on my face.

We sat and had our romantic candle lit dinner. He told me of his day, and we discussed plans for the weekend. When he complimented me on the food I blushed deeply. Simply being in his presence was working me up, and I was eager to move on to other activities.

When we finished he took my hand, leading me to his bedroom. He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. He hugged me from behind and I could feel his breath on my neck. I could feel his arousal behind me. One hand massaged my breast, and the other moved between my legs and stroked the lock on my belt. My knees buckled but he held me standing. Both his hands traced up my body, taking the straps of the dress and pulling them aside. My dress pooled to the floor. I stepped out of the heels as he moved me to the bed.

I sat back on the bed, elbows down and head up, looking back at Master. I opened my legs slowly for him, showing the extense of the belt. Slowly he began undressing in front of me. I subconsciously began pumping my hips into the air. I could smell my arousal. When his manhood came forward I took a sharp intake of breath. I wanted him so bad it hurt.

He moved to the edge of the bed and motioned me forward. I moved to my hands and knees to the edge of the bed and took him in my mouth. I reveled in his pleasure. One hand moved to stroke the metal covering my own pleasure center. My arousal leaked out the sides.

His erection throbbed in my mouth, but I knew we had only started. He pulled away to retrieve a cane. He ordered me off the bed and to stand tall, hands on my head. First he caned my butt, as I counted the strokes. Next he hit my breasts, then the soles of my feet, then my inner thighs. He switched to a whip and flogged my back and my stomach, and even teasingly swung it between my legs. My body glowed red and emanated heat. When he gave permission to break position I collapsed to my hands and knees.

He was not done yet. He brought me up just high enough so my lips touched the tip of his cock. I worked as best as I could. I wanted him to get off, to feel the climax that I could not. He let me go for a while, and when I felt him begin to get close he pulled me away again. More torment awaited me.

He had me lay on a mat. I realized what it was for only a second before I saw him approach with a lit candle. The dripping wax onto my already tender and sore flesh was excruciating. I did my best to hold my composure, but each drop of burning wax was like a knife in my skin. I screamed, as loud and as long as my lungs could manage, but the barrage continued until the candles burned low.

I could not move. I could only focus on drawing each new breath and listening to Master's footsteps as he moved around. He tenderly brought his hands to my body, wiping away dried wax before picking me up and placing me on his bed. There was one last trial for tonight. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"Say it."

"Please, Master, fuck my pussy."

"Good girl."

Of course, the belt was staying on, so really he was going to fuck my ass. This was one of the most torturous games we played. He would fuck me in my ass, through the belt, but I had to pretend it was my pussy. Worst of all, I had to fake an orgasm for him. It fucked up my brain so bad, having to pretend to be receiving pleasure that I wanted more than anything, while simultaneously denied. He positioned my body and pushed inside.

I was too exhausted to fuck him properly, so his thrusts into me did most of the work. I knew he wanted me to 'cum' first, and when I was not fast enough he began smacking my ass with his open palm to 'encourage' me. Finally I managed to grunt and groan and fake it, while he finished for real inside me. When he pulled out I was drifting in and out of consciousness.

I was aware of him cleaning me up, and scooping me up to carry me out of his bedroom. My cage was prepared, so he slipped me inside and closed the lock. Tomorrow would be another day of teasing and denial, with the promise of a climax still far away. I heard his last words and replayed them over and over as I drifted off the sleep.

"Goodnight, my chaste little maid. I will see you tomorrow."