LETTER FROM BOSTON

Dear Shoeblossom:

I have read with interest your letters from chastity belt couples. I really thought I was an enthusiast, but now I think it may have gone too far. My love affair with chastity and denial began, I think, in adolescence. In the summer after my junior year at Andover, I wrecked Dad’s  BMW  while drunk on the Montauk Highway, near our vacation place, and broke both arms and both legs, and I began getting visits in my hospital room from Noelle, a Candy Striper volunteer…she was an impish redhead, and after some conversation, began giving me an impromptu hand job one afternoon.

My family was of means, and I had a private hospital room, and Noelle locked the door. I of course couldn’t move, but was happy to make out with Noelle, who gradually began shedding her Candy Striper outfit, until she was just in lace bra and panties…

Noelle shucked down my pajama bottoms and began stroking my cock, and she rubbed and toyed with it, and as I got more and more excited, Noelle of course rubbed faster…but when I got to the point of cumming, she stopped kissing me, pulled her hand off my cock and slapped my face!

“What-what’s wrong?” I asked, stunned. Noelle laughed, jiggling her black-encased breasts at me, and slapped my face again. I was absolutely helpless, as I was in traction, and I just looked at her helplessly.

My dick, suddenly free, waved around, wondering where the wonderful stimulating hand had gone…my balls were quite full, as Noelle had been rubbing my dick for nearly an hour…what the hell was wrong with her?

“You don’t remember me, do you, Franz? You and your preppie friends are always coming into the townie bars and making fun of us townie kids…and now you’re a little lonely, right?” Noelle had grinned at me, and she began stroking my cock again, faster and faster. “You don’t like not getting to squirt, but you’re just a rich little shithead.”

Suddenly, and with great vehemence, Noelle rolled me over on the bed, my arm and leg casts bouncing, and while on my stomach, she pulled my pajama bottoms down further, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her pulling my belt out of the pants on the chair.

“You’re just a worthless preppie trust-fund pig!” Noelle shouted, and she lifted the belt and brought it down hard across my bare buttocks. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!  I screamed and tried to move but the casts held me down. I had never been spanked in my life—my parents had mostly been abroad and I was raised by indulgent nannies and governesses, before going off to boarding school at age twelve.

“Scream all you want, asshole, I told my sister, who is Head Nurse on the floor, to take a powder. She’s had to put up with your whining since you’ve been here all week, and she’s fucking sick of it.” And Noelle recommenced with my belt, this time buckle first!

Finally Noelle threw down the belt, and I heard some noise, and incredibly, she cut the cord to the VCR and  came up behind me again. The VCR cord whipping was like nothing I had ever experienced. I screamed and howled, and Noelle whipped me until I was cried out.

Then, she took a basin from the corner of the room, and I felt her rubbing a washcloth across my ravaged buttocks, getting the blood off, I assume. “You’re going to learn that money’s not everything…I’m sure you’re a sweet guy in your way, but your behavior is just execrable.” I was surprised that was a word in the lower classes vocabulary, but said nothing.

Finally she turned me over and began sponging my cock and balls, running her nails up and down my suffering penis. “See, that’s all you think about…your pleasure.” Noelle said. I hardly noticed when she picked up the VCR cord again, but certainly, as I was about to orgasm, the cord was brought to my attention.

THWACK! The cord hit my cock and balls hard. CRACK! “I think you’re starting to get how annoyed I am with you, Franz.”

The cord lashed my dick and balls five more times, and then Noelle dressed and left, and I couldn’t wait for her to come back again. I had never gotten to cum, and of course I couldn’t move my arms and legs, as they were in heavy casts.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell the doctors about this, probably because I wanted Noelle to return. I remember thinking that if she could just let me cum, she could beat me all she wanted!

Noelle came back the next day, and this time she brought some Astroglide, and she stroked my cock for four hours, still never allowing me to cum. At the end of the third hour, Noelle’s best friend Anita showed up, and Anita was a bubbly blonde, and Anita thought it was hilarious to play with my balls as Noelle stroked my cock…When the girls left, I was out of my mind with frustration!

Twenty-four hours after that, Noelle showed up again, this time not dressed in her Candy Striper uniform, just wearing a cute little miniskirt and halter top. After she’d stroked me for a couple of hours, she asked me if I wanted to cum, and I, now having been teased for eight days, nodded my head. “Would you do anything?” But of course!

Noelle used her cell phone to summon her gay cousin Aidan…she reminded me that my pals and I had roughed him up one day, kicking his teeth in and bloodying his nose outside of the town’s only gay bar. My dad had made the charges go away and Aidan’s dental bill had been paid, but Aidan was still angry.

“I want you to make Aidan happy!” Sucking Aidan’s dick apparently made him happy, and he came in my mouth, and I felt a little ridiculous, as of course I was still in full traction…but after it was over, Noelle pulled her panties down and hopped on my cock, and I came hard…and all was bliss!

But then Noelle found some Ben-Gay and rubbed it in my asshole and had Aidan corn-hole me for about an hour and a half. This made me regret my desire to orgasm…it really made the word hospital be associated with being sick, and all that!

After the casts finally came off, Noelle and I went out a few times…she’d make out with me, and accept expensive gifts, but the only way I got to cum is if I sucked Aidan off…and it was a long blowjob summer, let me tell you!

Much of my post-Noelle chastity training I owe to various professional dominants—before I began dating  my present spouse, I was seeing a Chastity Mistress, called Mistress Maunders. MM, as I remember her had me in one of her own chastity devices, a tiny pink plastic thing, quite humiliating.

I’d found MM’s ad in a seedy newspaper I bought in the Combat Zone, which is Boston’s red-light district. Her advertisement was something like this:

“Are you a man in need of supervised masturbation? Does your sex life get in the way of your work or your studies? I am a trained Tantric Onanologist and lifestyle dominant, and will take charge of your orgasms. I also offer physical discipline and a very strict regimen of achievement…if you are a card gambler, you may well enjoy what I’ve got to offer!”

And I was a card gambler! A stupid rich boy, I lost quite a lot in bridge and poker games in the Student Union, but fortunately, had enough left to pay for MM’s expensive “program.”

I was about twenty and MM had to be my age or older, but she looked about seventeen, a little eighty pound blonde thing with big boobs and full lips, and enormous blue eyes…but quite tiny! She’d given me the price for the pink plastic chastity lock, which resembled a faucet, and also her weekly rates…and she’d locked the thing on me, after I’d handed her a thousand dollars.

Mistress Maunders climbed on my lap, after locking me up and kissed me madly. Plunging her tongue in my mouth, she whispered “You’ll have a ball with me, baby…but only if you’re a good little gambler, get it?”

She’d dismissed me then, and I went back to my dorm, and wouldn’t you know it, the next night, I was making out with MaryAnne DiNardo, and when she said “Let’s go all the way” I couldn’t take off my damn pants, because of course, I had the little belt locked on me!

And I had to shower alone, and keep a towel over me. and within three days, I was going nuts, as I was a five time a day jack off junkie…but MM wouldn’t see me again until I had $500 for the uh “consulting fee”.

When I got there, MM showed me a deck of cards and told me that there was little chance I would be allowed to masturbate, but that I should pull a card from the deck ANYWAY.

Then she explained my chances.

If I pulled Seven of clubs, seven of spades, king of spades, ace of diamonds, ace of hearts, knave of clubs, four of hearts, eight of hearts, or knave of spades then I would get no key, and all I’d be eligible for was a thirty whack whipping from her trusty oak cane.

If I pulled Two of diamonds, three of diamonds, two of hearts, six of hearts, king of diamonds, five of clubs, two of clubs, five of spades, or three of hearts, I’d be bound naked and she’d tease me with her nimble little fingers for an hour, and then I’d be locked up again and sent home.

If I pulled five of hearts, six of diamonds, four of clubs, or queen of clubs, I would be unlocked and ordered to jerk off in front of MM’s open window, without being allowed to orgasm at the last minute.

If I pulled five of diamonds, three of spades, king of hearts, four of diamonds, or ten of spades, I would be given a twenty minute “sand paper” teasing (very painful) and then be spun over and whipped with her hairbrush, locked up and sent home.

If I pulled ten of diamonds, eight of clubs, seven of diamonds, or ace of clubs, my dick would be released, and MM would give me a seductive massage, but then at the last minute she would whip my penis with a leather belt, and then lightly run a clothing iron over it until I screamed like a girl!

If I pulled nine of clubs, nine of diamonds, knave of diamonds, ten of hearts, or ten of clubs I would be forced to wait while MM called up her partner, Master Sugarbreath, and I would be forced to suck his cock!

If I pulled Eight of spades, queen of hearts, seven of hearts, four of spades, three of clubs, or two of spades I’d be anally raped by Master Sugarbreath, and then locked in a closet for five hours, and then be sent home, still locked up.

If I pulled Nine of spades, queen of spades, eight of diamonds, six of clubs, ace of spades, queen of diamonds, king of clubs, knave of hearts, six of spades, or nine of hearts I would be allowed to masturbate to orgasm, and then be locked up and sent home.

The first week I pulled a four of clubs, and got a painful sand-paper teasing. It didn’t help that MM flashed her boobs a lot, and did the whole teasing while wearing a blue silk slip…I was horny and in acute pain…sent home that way, and out five hundred dollars.

I called my uncle and told him I’d wrecked my sailboat, and needed three grand, and began visiting MM as often as I possibly could…I ended up sucking Master Sugarbreath off three times, getting caned five times…I saw Mistress Maunders for nineteen months, ended up spending twelve thousand dollars, and orgasmed four times.

Then Mistress Maunders left the area, and I had to unlock the damn chastity belt with a forceps. And no, apparently I didn’t learn my lesson, for my chastity fantasies continued to plague me…and then I met my beautiful wife, Fabien!

Fabien and I had a relationship built on complete equality, or maybe she was even a bit slavish to MY desires…very loving and sexy and giving…and she thought I was a maniac when I showed her the chastity belt sites.

“Franz, are you a madman? Who’d want to be locked up like this?” Fabien put her hand on my arm, and I remember gazing into her beautiful sea-green eyes, running my fingers through her curly russet hair. To think now, I am required to be naked on my knees, and to keep my eyes on the floor unless she signifies otherwise!

Yes, I’d get fifty with her rattan if I looked in her eyes now. But at the time, I remember kissing her full lips and chucking her chin, and teasing her about her prudishness. Hadn’t she ever heard of the Marquis De Sade, and Leopold Sacher-Masoch?

She’d laughed, and I’d watched mesmerized as her 36DD breasts had heaved in the tank top she’d been wearing…breasts I have now not been allowed to touch in eighteen months! Though she taunts me with them. Yes, she certainly does, my Fabien…

“But Franz, being locked up in a chastity device? I don’t understand it. I mean, we tried spanking, and you cry like a little bitch.” Fabien hadn’t known how humiliating her casual comment would be, or how hard my penis was when she’d said it!

Fabien, a beautiful French-Italian girl from the Fall River part of Massachusetts, had gone to the humble Suffolk University on scholarship while I’d been cooling my heels as a graduate MBA student at Amherst.

But she was far tougher than I was…and the first time she’d spanked me, using a pancake spatula, she’d really redden my bare butt, my shorts were around my ankles, and I was squealing….

“God, if Poppa had gotten us to cry that hard when he gave us the belt” Fabien had reminisced “I think he would’ve laughed his ass off…”

Finally I had gotten Fabien to take a look at the chastity belt I’d ordered from the Internet. It was a metal one, resembling a cage, so she could easily see my penis as it languished inside.

Fabien locked it the first time, and then she began stroking my cock, while it was in the cage! And it certainly began to bulge, quite painfully in the little prison. Fabien was quite a cock tease, and we’d experimented with her tying my hands and stroking my cock, while wearing a hot little tube top…flashing a nipple now and then…she’s really good at that.

Playing her glittery purple nails up and down my dick and then suddenly pulling her hand away and laughing…especially when I burst into tears (I cry easily) Fabien got a real kick out of that…and in the old days, after a bit of that, she’d untie me and we’d make tender love…

But then after she got the chastity belt, quite often she’d lock me back up in it, after a long night’s teasing. And then she’d put my horny head between her pink legs and let me pleasure her for an hour or three.

“This is what you want, right?” Fabien asked me, the mock puzzlement in her lovely eyes. “It seems weird as hell, but God knows I want you to be happy.”

God I miss lovemaking! I miss Fabien’s beautiful lips around my cock…I miss orgasms! Once every 60 days, Fabien uses an egg timer (we graduated from one of those sand in the glass things) to give me four minutes to jerk my dick, with my left hand of course. If I don’t cum in that time, its lockup again for sixty days….cruel and humiliating!

As the orgasms grew fewer, I became far more malleable about things like a commitment…Fabi had been begging me to marry her, and as soon as I gave her control, a few harsh floggings with her Grandaddy’s carriage whip, while I was naked and tied over a sawhorse in the back yard, convinced me that yes, we should live together, and then yes, we should be married.

When she got sick of nagging me about cleaning the bathroom, she gave me a soapy hot enema, and wouldn’t let me release it for nearly an hour, and then made me lick up the soapy, shitty discharge. Now I clean the house without a murmur!

Not that Fabien keeps me locked up at home. As long as my hands are cuffed, she lets me wander around, my dick hanging free, and she strokes and plays with me constantly. Sometimes she is working on her computer, and I just stand next to the desk, waiting until she has a moment or two to rub her fingers against my heaving frustrated penis…she laughs as it grows more and more purple.

She’s discovered metal cock rings, and their effect in making my rod even more tortured…And she’s noticed the benefits! For as I get more and more excited, while she’s working, I’ll drop to my knees and kiss the insides of her pink thighs, especially when she’s wearing short-shorts…and if I kiss long enough, my balance precarious since my hands are tied behind my back, Fabien will drop her panties and let me service her…which may or may not have a deleterious effect on her work!

But initially, it was so hard for Fabi to understand me, and my peculiar desires. “Honey, I love you, and I don’t see why I should hurt you…you are horny enough as it is, always pestering me to give you a lay or two…don’t you think it might make you even more desperate? I mean, seriously.”

But as you can guess, Fabi got used to the whole chastity thing. And then, of course she began being willful and assertive. She couldn’t believe how long terms of chastity seemed to remove my chauvinism, my bossiness, and made me more understanding and tender. No more pumping it in her, and then rolling over and going to sleep, and leaving my beautiful wife without an orgasm.

At first, she let me fuck her after three days in the belt; then it was after a week or two. But every night I’d be munching between her legs. And then of  course Fabien realized that getting fucked wasn’t a requirement, and let me just jerk off after ten to fifteen days in chastity, and then after reading a few of your letters, she got me on a sixty day chastity penance. That’s the way it’s been this last nine months.

And, as I write this, Fabien is on a back packing trip with an old high school boyfriend. She just laughed when I asked her if they were friends or it was something more. They said it was camping out, but the Visa bills have come in for more than a few hotels. I don’t know when she’s coming back! And of course she locked me up and took the key with her. It’s been two weeks. But I am happy to serve my beautiful Wife/Mistress. But I feel so helpless…what do you think?

Best, Franz the Fool

Dear Franz:

I polled some of my regular correspondents. Thibault, author of “LETTER FROM FLAGSTAFF” suffers from Lou Gehrig’s disease, and his wife no longer has to tie him down to tease him. She is a loving nurse, but when it’s teasing and torturing time, she does her thing on his cock, and sometimes it’s painful, when she thrashes him with a piece of barbed wire. But he says it takes his mind off his illness, and he cheered up when he heard about a boy in traction being whipped by a Candy Striper…he thought it was hilarious!

JoAnn, my Maine correspondent, who recently wrote “LETTER FROM ORONO” told me that long trips really help her to get her head clear, especially when she’s with a sexy boyfriend. Her husband, who is a Classics instructor at the University of Maine-Orono is locked up all the time, but she takes him along on the trip to do the driving…he sleeps in the car as she and whatever undergraduate she’s with bang the bottom out of it in the Motel 6!

Then as she puts it “Mikie comes in and licks all the semen and juice off of us before giving us both massages and going back to the car. Tell Franz to quicher bitching. He’s lucky to be left at home!”

Felicia, author of “LETTER FROM ATLANTIC CITY” is involved with a member of the Taravaggio family there…they own many casinos. She also likes to use a VCR cord to whip her boyfriend, “Elwin the Eel” Sometimes Felicia ties Elwin up under the boardwalk and fucks young police officers right above where he’s tied in the sand. It’s quite a way to make a guy appreciate you, she says.

Avery, a corn farmer who wrote about being raped with his own husks in LETTER FROM BOISE loved the story about Mistress Maunders, or MM. He says that he and his wife play 21, and she’s the dealer. If he doesn’t get “BLACKJACK!” then she gives it to him with the cattle prod, and he’s denied eight days. Gambling seems like such a serious business in the world of BDSM, it seems!