The Fitting
Part 3
Day 2: Morning measurements and exercise
I awoke to the sound of knocking at the door. It was 6:30, and I was
ushered to the measurement room, my bladder bursting. It was not a
full measurement session, there were certain places, (and not only the
lower belly just above the pubic bone), where a full bladder can result
in a change of shape. It took only about ten anxious minutes before I
was finally, gratefully allowed to crawl to the WC.
Once I had emptied my bladder, a full measurement session took place.
Keith was nowhere to be seen. They had woken him, as he had expressed
a desire to be present at all measurement sessions, but he had changed
his mind when faced with the reality of six-thirty a.m.
I had breakfast with Keith at about 8:30, and then there was a half-
hour break before a period of gentle exercise. First I had to do a set
of exercises to test my body's flexibility: bending, stretching, the
splits, leg raises, and so on. I was pretty good; I had done some
ballet in my childhood and early teens. My flexibility was carefully
measured. I was told that this would be compared with my flexibility
whilst wearing the belt to ensure that there was no loss, no
restriction of movement was permitted by the Ice Man.
Then I had to use an exercise bicycle. They measured my heart-rate and
breathing rate as I rode, and they told me to go faster or slower so as
to maintain a steady 120 beats per minute for about 20 minutes. This
was immediately followed by another measurement session. Again, there
were certain places that they went to first as the fit here was known
to be dependent on recent exercise. There was another purpose: one of
the places they measured first was the clench detection point. With
recent exercise there is absolutely no arousal, and so a proper flaccid
measurement of the clench point could be made. I was asked to clench
as hard as I could so that the spike operation could be adjusted to
accommodate this in full without my suffering pain.
There was a further interview session, then. "There is a small
discrepancy between the results of your two interviews that needs to be
cleared up. Keith has stated that the rear entrance should not be
protected; Miranda has said that this should be protected. As you
know, in such cases thin stainless steel wires are stretched across the
orifice. It prevents even a finger from accessing it, but cuts the
faeces like a cheese-wire as it emerges. It does require the frequent
use of the bidet for cleanliness which may prove difficult if you often
use a public lavatory. Miranda?"
I said: "I don't like it in the rear. We tried once because he wanted
it, but I didn't like it so we never did it again."
Keith said: "I never force her to do anything she does not want. It is
merely an issue of hygiene and convenience in public places. She does
not have access to a bidet at her place of work."
"Do you feel that you need protection from Keith or somebody else,
perhaps? Do you need to stop your own finger penetrating there? What
is the reason for wanting that point closed?"
I had used this point for masturbation when wearing the no contact belt
that I had used before, but I had never told Keith about this for fear
that he would want to play with me there. Then I remembered the pain
that would be deterring orgasm for me. "I guess I don't actually need
protection; I just didn't want the lack to be interpreted as permission
for access there."
"If you change your mind later, the protection can easily be fitted."
Then I was allowed to rest for an hour before another set of
measurements was made. Then I had to do vigorous exercise. This was a
vigorous sprint on the exercise bicycle until the heart-rate hit 180
and held there for a minute. Another set of measurements was made
immediately and then it was lunch-time.
The afternoon was spent in the same way. Each set of measurements was
made twice as a cross-check. Finally, after dinner, a second 'full
belly' set of measurements was made, and I eventually went to bed
exhausted. There would be one further set of measurements first thing
in the morning, and that, barring problems with fitting, was the
measurement process done.
Day 2: Night-time and fantasies
Again I had orders to masturbate that night, preferably three times. I
found it easier to think about, now, remembering how it had been before
I had identified denial as a need, remembering some of the fantasies I
had used to get myself off. One of my early fantasies was that I was
captured and abducted into a secret cave owned by a really horrible
man. He kept me there and had sex with me whenever he wanted but he
would never let me masturbate or have any orgasms otherwise. I hated
him, I hated being there and I hated to let him have sex with me but I
also looked forward to it as my only means of ever getting orgasm. I
remembered how I used to imagine his smelly breath and drooling
disgusting mouth as he lay over me, his great fat belly crushing me,
his actions making me climax.
As I remembered this fantasy, I realised for the first time that this
man had a strange resemblance to the priest in our parish when I was a
child, and that the cave had had a surprising resemblance to the vestry
where I would change into my cassock and surplice for serving at Holy
Mass. I remembered how he used to bless us both before the service: we
would each kneel between his parted thighs, head bowed forward, and he
would place his hand on our heads pressing down as he said the prayer.
I remember pressing up against his hand, not wanting to feel my
forehead pressing against his trousers and crotch. I remembered
vividly the rank unwashed public lavatory smell coming through his
cassock from his trousers.
Now, as I had this fantasy, I tried first to put Keith's face into this
role, but this did not work at all. Then I thought about The Ice Man.
I imagined him locking me into one of his 'total denial' appliances and
keeping me here as a kitchen slave. I imagined the level of
frustration I would reach, as he only ever let me out of the chastity-
belt at rare intervals to fuck me. He would fuck me hard and fast
before I had a chance to become properly aroused. His climax would
always come when I was still just short of climax myself and then he
would immediately lock me up in his total denial appliance again. He
would never let me climax. I imagined the terrible conflict between
wanting to climax and hating letting him fuck me; of knowing that this
would be my only chance, and so inviting him to, asking him, begging
him to fuck me. So often he would say: "no, not today, it is much too
soon after the last time". So often he would just laugh at my
frustration. I imagined my terrible disappointment when, having begged
and pleaded for weeks, having submitted once more to his hateful
fucking, I failed yet again to climax, and was locked into the total
denial appliance once more. I found it surprisingly easy to come. I
didn't even have to think about being beaten for doing it.
I dozed for a bit.
When I woke up, I started thinking about another fantasy that I used to
have. In this fantasy I had a girl-friend of the same age as me. We
were very close. We would hold hands and kiss, we would tell each
other all our secrets and we would do everything together. Soon we
began to look at each other 'down there' and we began to touch one
another: lightly, gently, innocently. We would lie naked together in
bed, and I remembered feeling her soft, warm, downy flesh against
mine. I would gently rub my thigh across her belly, she would softly
stroke my back with her arm. Each day we would progress a little
further, each knowing what the other wanted, but respecting each others
secret places and the things we were not yet ready for.
Before long, we would start to become sexually aroused, not by direct
stimulation of the sexes but simply from the intense pleasure of being
together. We would kiss and hug, in a warm intensity of desire for the
unknown. We were just getting to the point when we both felt an
intense need for something more direct when we were caught. Big strong
hands pulled us roughly apart. We were lectured that such things were
evil and harmful. We were beaten for our wickedness. We were
separated and ordered never to do such things again. We saw each other
each day, at a distance, but were never allowed to communicate. I kept
wondering what it would have been like, how we would have progressed in
our sex with each other, imagining our thighs rubbing each other's
pussies as we lay in a kissy tangle of warm, silky limbs. I imagined
that we were in bed together just at the point of coming to a glorious
mutual climax when we were torn apart, shouted at and beaten for our
sins. It was this thought that brought on my climax.
Perhaps I slept for a while.
Later, I remembered another fantasy that I used to have when I first
started to masturbate and was very disturbed by the conflict between
this need and the religious beliefs that I had been brought up with.
In this fantasy, I was child at that age when sexual need first starts
to become strong. I was carefully watched and secretly spied on to
detect any lapse in my perfect moral behaviour. I could never ever
relax my guard for fear of being caught. I never did anything
suspiciously sexual although I recognised a terrible need within me.
Soon I was being questioned about my sexual needs: Did I think about
certain things? Did I ever want to feel certain feelings? This made
me aroused, but I rigorously suppressed it and hid my need.
When I showed no sign of any lapse from perfect moral behaviour, the
physical examinations started. The excuse was to check that I was
still intact, a virgin. I was told that just by looking at my secret
parts they could tell if I had been doing anything improper. Again, I
made sure that I never did anything suspicious although my desire to do
so became ever stronger. They would wake me from sleep to examine me,
or just as I was fresh from my bath. Many times a day I would be
checked for purity.
Next the tests started: during an examination, I would be deliberately
stimulated into a state of arousal and then, when I was close to
climax, it would stop and I would be left on my own. Even during the
tests I remained perfectly controlled and permitted no outward sign of
any response to the manipulations, although inside I was in a frenzy of
desire. Afterwards, I knew that I was being secretly spied on for any
sign of immoral behaviour, and I felt turmoil of intense need inside,
but outwardly, I hid the least shred of evidence of this; I remained
calm, apparently perfect, modest, chaste and virginal in every way.
Each time, the test would last longer and finish with me closer to
climax, and I would have to try harder and harder not to give way to my
overwhelming desire, not to show anything that could be criticised, not
to give way to their manipulations. At each test I would fight the
strong feelings and need to orgasm, struggling to suppress my
sexuality, and to suppress any outward sign of its existence.
Eventually, fearful of actually climaxing during the test, I started to
beg them to have the offending parts surgically removed to save me from
this awful disgrace. And it was this thought that brought me to
climax: that a girl could in this way become so offended and alienated
from her sexuality that she begs for it to be surgically removed; that
did it for me.
