Part 2
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As soon as we got home from the State Mental Hospital, Joan showed me my room.
It had once been her daughter's room, she told me. But now it did not look like that. It
was very poorly furnished, only with a metal frame bed, a wooden chair, a plastics
coated table and a closet. A chrome chain ran from the bed's head board half way
down the bed.
"So your daughter's finally off the leash?"
I was feeling a lot better but as soon as I said the words I remembered that this
woman controlled my comfort. Teasing her might not be healthy.
Joan fired me a sharp look.
"That little attachment was added just for you, dear. Thank you for reminding me
about it. We've a little ceremony to go through. Please pull your blouse up."
I mentally kicked myself. I had learned by now that whenever Joan used a euphe-
mism, I wasn't going to like whatever it was. I did as I was told and stood there with
my navel and the top of my rough-cloth panties exposed while she fished around in a
drawer.
She held up a white belt and before I could say or do any-thing she put it around my
waist. I heard a lock click shut. Taken by surprise, I looked down. It was made of
what looked like thick white plastic. It was about two inches wide and fitted just
snugly between my rib cage and my hips. It had a strange looking flat lock that didn't
seem to have a key hole, and a small ring was mounted beside it. I looked up at
Joan. This time I really didn't understand.
"What's all this about?"
By way of an answer, Joan pushed me forward a few feet and then grabbed the
chain off the bed. The lock on its end was open. It only took her a second to put it
through the ring on my belt and snap it closed. So, it really was a leash. Lucky me.
"See how smart you are" Joan grinned at me. I tried not to give her the satisfaction of
seeing the panic I felt inside.
"Let me save you some time and trouble. There are steel wires embedded in the
plastic so you can't cut it off. If I catch you trying, I'll make sure you regret it for a
long time."
"Fine. So what's it for, anyway."
I had my guesses but I wanted to know.
Joan paced a circle around me, dragging her finger along the smooth surface of the
belt. It un-nerved me.
"You'll wear this for the duration of your sentence. It has several unique features. It
can be used to keep you in one place, if I desire. It contains a homing device so we
can find you if you wander off, and it does something else you should know about."
I watched her take what looked like a remote control unit for a TV out of her purse.
She keyed in a four digit number. Suddenly I felt an electric shock. I groaned out
loud and fell to my knees, grabbing the bed for support while the horrible process
took it's course. No matter how much I tried I was helpless to stop it.
When it was finally over, I found myself kneeling on the floor, half draped over the
bed and trying to catch my breath. I wanted to curse Joan but by then I knew better. I
looked up at her expecting her satisfied smile and wasn't disappointed.
"That," I gasped, "is very effective. How do you manage it?"
"That's not the point, dear. We use it to manage you."
She strolled over to the closet doors and opened them with a flourish. It contained
some of my clothes, but other things, too.
"I want you to continue to take care of your appearance and be sexually attractive to
men at all times. Oh, during your sentence you will thoroughly learn how to reject
their advances. You will wear make-up and perfume every day. Most of these clothes
are acceptable. We will go shopping tomorrow to replace anything that is now too
nutty for you."
She opened a drawer. It contained all my garter belts and some hosiery but no
panties or bras.
"You will wear a garter belt and seamed stockings whenever you are outside this
house and I'll warn you right now to keep your seams straight. As I told you in the
hospital, pantyhose and bras are out of the question. The swinging of your boobs will
serve as a permanent reminder of your status."
I began to get the drift. A quick glance at the open closet confirmed it. All of my low
heeled shoes were missing, only the painfully high spikes remained. Joan wanted to
make sure that I attracted much attention, eyes that would look me over and maybe
guess that there was something funny about me when I moved. It wasn't enough for
her to denie me sexual relief. She wanted the threat of exposure to hang over my
head like a sword. Then there's the control belt. I imagined her hitting the buttons
while we were in a crowded shopping mall and trembled with dread.
"Well, then, I'll let you 10 minutes to get refreshed and tidied up. Wash yourself, put
on some make-up and do your nails. When you're ready, come to the living room
wearing just your shoes," she paused and winked, "and, of course, the belt."
She unlocked the chain from my belt.
"The bathroom is down the hall to the left."
Without another word or glance she left me alone, confident of her ownership of me,
leaving me to stare at the pile of stockings and the tangled web of garter belts.
I stood up, kicked off my shoes, and went to find the bathroom. I closed the door to
the bathroom and enjoyed the first bit of privacy in more than a week. It was won-
derful to be alone. I took off the blouse, unzipped the vinyl mini skirt and tossed them
both in a corner. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, naked but for that damned
belt. I could clearly see the silver shining spot on top of my slit. I told myself I had
best get used to the sight.
I went under the shower. The warm water and the freedom to move as I liked was
wonderful. I washed my hair, for the first time in a week, and cleaned up my rear
end. My pubis was still very sore from the electrolysis. I soaped it gently, not believ-
ing that it would be forever as bare as a girl's. Having the first opportunity to examine
this devilish clit cap, I did it.
As soon as I touched this clit hood, a new shock of pain rushed through my privates.
But my need for relief was now so demanding, I could not stop. Avoiding this
damned cap, I massaged my cunt lips and my dripping hole, but it was frustrating.
My clit seemed as dead, and I could not bring myself over the edge. Desperately I
tried to finger my aching, demanding pussy. My fresh depilatoried pubis commented
every try of fondling with new pain. I inserted a finger into my wet love hole. The re-
stricted feelings were not worth the pain immediately emited from this damned cap.
My spirits sank. I felt tears form in my eyes. It was all so strange, so awkward. Joan
was right: From now on I was going to have to behave like a nun. Finally, I stood in
the tub, panting, moaning, hornier than I ever had been.
I decided to return to my schedule. I dried myself up and returned to my room. I
found my make-up in one of the dresser drawers. I could only think about my shel-
tered clit, so it was hard to concentrate on what I was doing. They had removed my
nail polish in the hospital so it didn't take me long to do my hands and feet. Then I
took all my courage to present myself in the nude, wearing only this prisoner belt. My
breasts swayed freely as I waddled down to the living room. Both physically and
emotionally I felt totally exhausted.
"Ah, good!" Joan said from her chair. "Are we feeling more comfy now after seeing
that you will be secure against any bad attempts?"
Joan seemed to be able to read me like a book. I hated the childish tone. She was
pushing more psychological buttons than she knew. I just nodded and waited for her
to launch into the next act of the Punishment of Sandy. I wasn't looking forward to it
at all.
"Good. I want you to come over here and kneel down."
I did as I was told.
"That's good. Now, sit back on your heels."
I did that too. Fortunately the position was comfortable. At least it took the pressure
off my crotch.
Joan smiled down at me. I was the errant child being lectured to be a parent. She
spoke to me as if I were a child.
"I will go over the rules with you once and only once. After today, any infractions will
be punished. Do you understand?"
I nodded and she continued.
"Until the winter comes you will dress only in belt and shoes when in this house. This
is so that I can check the condition of you at any time and to remind you that you
are, after all, undergoing punishment under the law.
"You are not to sit on the furniture without permission. You are not to speak unless
spoken to. You will do what you are told, when you are told and without complaint,
no matter how embarrassing or uncomfortable you feel about it."
I nodded again, but my heart was sinking fast. It was going to be a long time.
"Masturbation is forbidden. If I catch you abusing yourself or even suspect it, you will
be very sorry indeed. I have several chastity belts and won't be reluctant to use
them."
I had only ever seen pictures of chastity belts but the thought of even the gentlest of
them rubbing against my injured groin was enough to make me cringe.
"From time to time there will be visitors. You will obey them as you would me."
She stared down at me.
"Do you understand these rules?"
I nodded but she obviously wanted to hear me say it.
"Yes, Joan, I understand."
"Very good. Now come with me."
While I was in the bathroom, she had prepared dinner. We ate in silence. She sat at
the table and I had mine while kneeling on the floor.
Later on she was watching TV in the den. I kneeled down on the floor in what I
thought of as "the position" and tried to ignore the fact that I was constantly itching
between my legs. Joan ignored me for the most part. When she got herself a beer
from the kitchen she brought me one too. I didn't want it but since I hadn't been spo-
ken too, there was no way I could politely refuse.
After the late news, Joan turned off the TV.
"Time for bed, Baby. I suggest you go to the toilet before. It could be a long night."
Joan stood in the door, watching. I hated having her eyes on me while I performed
this humiliating little ritual.
I avoided looking at her while I laid naked on the bed but my legs were facing her
and it bothered me to be so exposed to her. She was holding something out of my
sight. I had to move the chain to crouch towards the pillow and I hated having to
touch it.
"You've learned quickly. Now give me your hands."
I offered my hands as she tossed one leather mitten on the bed and began to fit the
other one to me. I had seen these before. The hand is encased inside rigid leather or
nylon, making the wearer helpless. You can't grasp anything with these things on,
nor can you make a fist. As I watched her fasten the little buckles I prayed she would
leave the damned belt controller alone. I just couldn't stand the thought of being
forced to sleep in it.
When the mittens were fastened to her satisfaction, she locked the chain to the ring
on my belt. Now I understood why she wanted me going to the toilet. There would be
no possibility to use it until the morning.
"We can't have you getting into trouble, now can we?"
I didn't say anything.
She told me to sit on the edge of the bed. There was one last "appliance" that had to
be fitted. It turned out to be what is called in the "S&M" trade a spreader bar, as I
later found out. In this case, a piece of round wood about two feet long with cuffs
attached to each end. This, Joan told me with obvious delight, would prevent me
from squeezing my thighs together for pleasure. If she had any idea how badly my
twat still hurt she could have saved herself the trouble.
She locked the cuffs and helped me swing my bound legs onto the bed. Then she
pulled the covers up.
"There," she said, "we're all ready for the night. The chain and the spreader bar will
make sure you don't wander off and the mittens will keep your hands out of trouble.
Any last requests?"
"No, Joan. You've taken care of everything."
Despite my best efforts my tone was sarcastic. I regretted it immediately. Joan's face
hardened.
"Be careful, Sandy. I'll let you off this time but if I hear that tone again I might just
press some buttons."
Our eyes locked for a few long seconds.
"I'm sorry, Joan. I didn't mean it. Please don't do that."
My voice was soft but my pleas were real.
"Very well, then, but I think a small reminder is still in order."
She took a small dildo from one of the drawers. It had a retaining harness. She held
it up where I could see it clearly.
"Your punishment will be to wear this for four hours tomorrow. You may choose
when the four hours start. Remember to come and ask politely to have it inserted. If
you ask nicely enough I may even let you use a little lubricant. Good night, dear."
As I said before, Joan would make a good intelligence officer. As I lay there trying to
get comfortable all I could think of was having to go to her and ask her to strap that
damned thing in my rear and then thank her for it! The more I thought about it the
more depressed I got. Finally I started to cry. It was hell, not being able to wipe my
own eyes.
