Authors Note: This is my first attempt at writing a story with a gender-fluid character. Please comment. What worked? What didn’t? What would you like to see included? Comment below or DM me on Twitter @qblueheart
Being stuck in a micro-apartment would be torture for some, but not Lacy. She preferred quiet solitude over a packed bar or restaurant. Here, in her fortress, she could be herself instead of the feminine-looking male she presented to the rest of the world. No one was around to stare at her with judging eyes. She could lose herself in a good fantasy book or spend hours with her carefully curated friends on social media. Here was her safe space.
There was one minor problem with her solitude made necessary by the pandemic ravaging the population outside. She discovered she had a lot of time to satisfy her carnal urges, perhaps too much time. It wasn’t so much of a problem as it was an embarrassment. She knew she was a talented, successful programmer. She should be able to do whatever she wants outside of work. Yet, she often felt ashamed after she pleasured herself, “Why can’t I control my stupid urges? Why can’t I just go out and get fucked like a normal person and be happy?” Lacy didn’t so much want to be with someone else as much as she needed to touch herself, a lot. In fact, her dildo was probably still stuck to the wall from her morning shower while her vibrator, exhausted from last night’s activities, charged on the bookshelf.
Lacy decided to do something about her urges as she lay on her purple couch (which doubled as her bed.) She had been fantasizing about what it would be like to wear a chastity belt for the last few months. Her favorite stories involved being transformed into an aching pool of desire. She even had a belt picked out on her wish list, but she could never before bring herself to buy the expensive indulgence for herself. She decided that today was the day. Her finger hovered over the “Order” button and tapped it. A few days later, a chastity belt arrived. She was beyond excited to try it on.
She inspected the belt while sipping her nighttime glass of wine. The belt was smooth to the touch, although slightly cold against her fingertips. The main piece that fit between her legs was made of stainless steel. It had small holes to allow for easy cleaning with the showerhead. Two plastic-covered, metal cables connected the covering to another adjustable cord that went around the waist. It looked a lot like a steel bikini. Once locked on, there would be no way for her to touch herself. Well, almost no way. Her asshole remained available for sanitary reasons. The thought of having only her back hole to play with, like the characters in the stories she read, made her wet. In the past, she tried to cum from a dildo in her ass. Still, she could never get to a satisfying orgasm before giving up and stimulating her genitals with her fingers or vibrator.
She had one small problem with wearing the device that she was about to rectify. She needed the motivation to wear the belt for more than a few hours. She opened the Twitter app on her phone, anxious to put her motivational plan into motion. Lacy quickly clicked through the new Twitter terms of service before posting her “chastity challenge.” She had seen others use Twitter to set a duration for wearing a chastity device. She thought it would be a fun personal challenge, a distraction from the day-to-day boredom of pandemic lockdown. She promised her followers a day in the belt for a retweet, eight hours for a like. As more people interact with her tweet, she would commit to staying locking in the belt for a more extended period. She guessed the game would sentence her to a few days at most. She didn’t have many followers to interact with. It would be a fun challenge, but she should have read the Terms of Service (TOS) first.
She closed the app after posting her challenge, determined to wait 24 hours before checking the results. She pulled off her boy work clothes and boxer shorts and stood in front of the mirror. The belt slid up her legs like a pair of medieval, chainmail panties. She pulled the locking cables over her hips, admiring the look. For a moment, she hesitated. Her eyes closed. She slipped her hand between the steel and her body, rubbing her delicate parts. She wanted just one more orgasm before locking the device on. She opened her eyes again and saw the device on her body. She remembered her goal to control her urges and possibly even learn to cum from anal stimulation alone. With a reluctant sigh, she pulled her hand from her groin and tightened the straps.
She locked the chastity device against her genitals before she could change her mind. Her hands ran over her featureless crotch. She could no longer feel the touch of her fingers against her sex. Instantly, her desire for an orgasm returned. She tried to slip a finger in through the side, but it only made her more frustrated to not be able to reach herself. She admired the simple effectiveness of the belt before pulling on her polka dot bikini-style panties to hide the device from view. She pulled on her nightshirt and slipped into bed.
Her sleep was filled with erotic dreams of being forced to play the feminine little submissive office slut. She dreamt she was called into the Human Resources office, where several co-workers accused her of being frequently tardy. Suddenly, she was disoriented as her pants and boxers were around her ankles, and her co-workers were taking turns spanking. Then, they noticed her belt and agreed that she should be the new office slut, sucking and fucking whoever and whatever was presented to her. She woke up several times as the tight pressure of her swollen genitals against the device made her leak her sticky wetness. “Fuck, that was intense!” She murmured to herself before realizing that she had indeed overslept. Then she repeated loudly, “Fuck!” She barely had time to dress and get out the door. She didn’t have time to remove her belt first.
At work, her rising arousal distracted her. She cursed herself for forgetting to take the keys with her so she could remove the belt if it became too much for her. Luckily, no one else in the office knew what was hidden under her trousers. In fact, everyone at the office called her “Todd.” She never corrected them because at work, she dressed like any other guy. After all, who she was on her own time wasn’t any of their business anyway. She went into the bathroom stall several times just to admire the belt. She was dying to see how long her Twitter friends wanted her locked, but she didn’t want to get called into HR for checking social media against work rules. She laughed to herself when she recalled her dream. She kept the door to her office closed as she worked to avoid interacting with others in her distracted state. Several times she caught herself toying with her nipples through her blue dress-shirt and camisole as she stared blankly at the code on her computer screen. She worried she would leave her wetness on her chair before her day was over.
She hurried home, catching the first crowded bus she back to her flat. She didn’t dare open her slutty Twitter feed. Other eyes might catch a glimpse. Bodies of strangers were so close that they pressed against hers as the bus wound its way through the city streets. She wondered if any of those nearby could feel her belt under her clothes as she stood there. Her arm held onto the rail above her head to prevent herself from rubbing against the other bus patrons. The chance of being discovered made the belt feel tight and slick against her sex. Her arousal made it even more difficult to resist looking at her feed full of friends, jokes, and naughty photos.
She pushed her way off the bus and walked a half block to her apartment building. She let herself in and ran up three flights of stairs, not wanting to wait for the painfully slow elevator. She slammed the door behind her and pulled her phone out of her work bag. Finally, alone in her flat, she opened the app to see her #chastity challenge results. “OMG!” She thought after tallying the result – “727 days! Almost 2 years! No way!” The thought excited her, but she knew she was too horny a slut to ever last that long.
Paradoxically, the thought of being locked for two years aroused her. She thought about what that would be like. Could she learn to give herself an orgasm just through anal stimulation? What new kinks would she develop after two years of no sex? This was too hot of a fantasy for her to not touch herself. She had to give herself a little relief, thinking about what it would be like to be locked for two years. She told herself she could always put the chastity belt back on afterward, and no one would know. She walked over to the jewelry box in which she placed her chastity belt key. She opened the box, a little ashamed that she could barely last 24 hours without touching herself but even more desperate to cum.
The key was not in the box! She panicked. She searched for the key on her hands and knees, peering under the dresser. It wasn’t there. She poured the contents of her dresser drawers onto the floor. Then, she pulled apart her bed in desperation. After a while, her room looked as if it had been ransacked. But, the key was missing, and she was a tearful, frustrated mess.
Her phone made a sound, ding. She looked through the mess of bedding thrown on the floor and found her phone buried under it. A Twitter notification showed on the screen. She opened it and found a DM from @twitter that began, “Account Suspended. Terms of Service Enforcement. Action Required…”
“Great! First, I lose my belt key, now my connection to my Twitter friends. F*uck my life! I don’t need this right now. I need a damn locksmith or someone with bolt cutters!”
She read the DM. “Twitter TOS requires us to remove accounts posting disinformation. Your recent post must be verified true and accurate. A risk mitigation program has been designed for you to verify your recent post and restore your account. 1) Daily verification photos must be posted to your account, 2) We provide support by having another user safely store your key for the duration of your ‘chastity challenge,’ 3) You agree to hold the keys of other ‘chastity challenge’ Twitter users. The duration of this program is 727 days, coinciding with your posted commitment based on your game results.”
“No fucking way!” She said out loud in disbelief. She continued reading, “According to our new TOS, you are liable for fines and damages up to $2 million for any misinformation posted. Your recent post appears at risk. Removing the post does not absolve you of this risk. To mitigate that risk, click “accept” to join our risk reduction program.”
This time, she read the agreement multiple times. Each time she grew more anxious but more aroused. “Hell, two f*cking years! What was I thinking.” Her groin pulsed with each beat of her heart. She felt anxious like the world was closing in on her. She stripped off her clothes and pulled at the device, but it was firmly attached. She fell to the floor and wiggled her hips in a vain attempt to remove the belt over them.
The tugging only made her more horny and desperate to cum. Beads of sweat trickled down her abdomen for her effort to free herself. Resigned, she stood up determined to get relief in the only way left to her. She retrieved her favorite vibrating dildo, plunging it inside her available hole. Each penetrating thrust caused her trapped genitals to become stickier with her fluids. She pulled up her favorite damsel in bondage videos. Her fingers pinched and kneaded her nipples in an attempt to maximize the stimulation left to her.
She found her pillow and pressed it between her legs as she sat on the floor. Her pelvis ground into the pillow, but although the motion was familiar, she could feel nothing sensual from it. She did feel an orgasm boiling inside her, just below the surface but unable to break free. She tried to scratch her desperate itch until she was sweaty and exhausted from the effort. But still, she could not satisfy her hungry desires. She yelled out in exhausted frustration and let the dildo slip out of her stretched ass.
Defeated after her unsuccessful effort to make herself cum, she read the agreement one more time, noticing one more detail she almost missed. “This agreement is confidential. Disclosure of any information will void the agreement. To accept this agreement, upload your first photo confirming the belt remains in place as per your post.” She realized that she had no choice. There was no way she would manage that long in the belt without outside help.
She took several selfie photos of her wearing the belt. She looked at each of them, eventually settling for one that showed her best smile. She worried if someone she knew might see the photo, or worse, someone from work who did not know about her femme side. Briefest, she flashed back to her dream from last night, fearful of what her office co-workers would do if they saw her photo. She realized that nothing prevented her from taking her profile private so only her approved followers could see her picture. She quickly changed the settings, a small consolation to her privacy. With a trembling finger, she posted the confirmation photo on Twitter for all to see. She stared at her posted image for a moment before it got its first like. “If I have to post, I’m going to at least look good,” she thought, trying to push aside her anxiety and embarrassment.
Frustrated at her new reality, she tossed her phone on the bare mattress and collapsed next to it, unsure of what to do next. She decided to look for her lost key again once she recovered. “At least I can take this thing off in between photos if I had that key. Where could it be?” She wondered. Her phone sounded, ding, with another DM notification. She was too frustrated and tired to move. Usually, she loved hearing that little notification that someone has liked a tweet or sent her a message, but today was different. Instead, she slowly picked up the phone as if its weight was almost too heavy to lift.
She vowed she would read every TOS from now on. She tugged again at the device, still unable to slip her fingers inside for relief. She held the phone over her eyes as she lay on her back. Seeing the message, she wondered where her key was now. The message read,” You’ve been assigned as the key holder for the following Twitter user. You have 24 hours to secure the key of username @.. “
~Quinn Blueheart
Please comment below.
Quinn Blueheart 