Ninas Chastity

Story by Micki
Tranlated by John

It was at a party to which I had been invited by a colleague. I sat in a corner and observed the people since I did not know anybody. I am also rather shy and had never had a permanent boyfriend, although my colleagues told me that I could really get the men to notice me with some makeup and more modern dresses to go along with my long blond hair and my figure.

At this party a young man came over to talk with me and we pleasantly conversed for a very long time about many different mundane things. Apparently he did not know anybody else there either. Sometime late in the evening we came to the subject of our occupations. As he spoke I learned that he was a blacksmith and operated a small old village blacksmith shop that, in the current age, was a rare occupation and did not present very many opportunities for work. He mostly fitted shoes to horses, which were kept by the owners primarily as a hobby.

I asked him whether he had ever manufactured a chastity belt. Normally I would have been mortified by just the thought of asking such a question so shameful in nature, but we had had quite a bit to drink and I was fascinated with stories of women of the Middle Ages, or caputered by Pirates, that had been put into chastity belts as girls and might never be released. Many times I had often wondered to myself what it would feel like to be encased in such a chastity belt made of unyielding iron, and these fantasies had excited me very much. All the belts in the stories had been made by blacksmiths. Since he was a blacksmith as well, to me the question did not seem too unusual at the time.

He said that he never made one and the idea had never occurred to him to make one, however, he did say he found the subject quite interesting and asked whether I knew someone who would like to have such a thing. I had already drank probably way too much and told him of the fascination these old stories had on me. At the end we arranged that I should visit him the next day, a Sunday, in his blacksmith shop, so I could have a look at it.

My First Chastity Belt

When I woke up the next morning, I had a very heavy head since I was not at all accustomed to the alcohol. I stepped into the bathroom, got myself some aspirin and went back to bed. Gradually the conversation of the previous evening came back to me and I thought of the condition I must have been in to speak with a man I had never met before about such things. But the thought of chastity belts excited me again so much that I began to masturbate under my covers like so many times before. When my climax began to abate, I thought again: I can't possibly drive and see him. And after a good long bath and a very small breakfast I said to myself: It's lucky that he does not know who I am or where I live.

Thus I decided to sit myself down with a book on the couch in the living room. However, I could not concentrate at all on it. My thoughts were about the blacksmith. The idea of feeling the iron on my skin excited me yet again and in my head I spun the idea around: You can't possibly do that! No matter how long you have desired it. No way! Why?

In the end, I convinced myself that a chance like this would probably never come again, so I jumped into my car and drove off.

After approximately half an hour I arrived at the village and quickly found the blacksmith shop located just outside the village. Last doubts arose, but the urge was stronger and I knocked uncertainly on the wood gate.

The gate moved to the side and there he was. "Hello," he said, "I didn't know whether you were coming or not, but I waited for you. Come in." Now I could no longer turn back and followed him into the shop. He showed me everything in detail and explained: "This is old and all original, a blacksmith shop from the last century. Everything that was needed in those days can be found here, but today it will be used to make something totally different."

"Now back to you, I have already considered how such a chastity belt could be constructed. However, I will still need to take a few measurements."

I became quite red in the face because he spoke about it so blatently. "How much time will be needed to make such a thing?" I asked.

"Nobody will disturb us today. If you have some time, you could be heading back in just a few hours."

"And how much will cost me?" I asked, "because I am not at all wealthy." He said to me, "I think it will be fun to undertake building such a thing. It will be my pleasure to make it for you."

"That's great!" I answered excitedly. "What do I have to do?"

"First you must undress so I can take the measurements."

"I can't get undressed in front of you," I said shocked. "I don't know you well at all and also don't know whether I can trust you."

"Well first, I do have a lot of work ahead of me if we are to be finished by today. And once you are wearing the belt and have the key in your purse, what can I do to you?"

I was not quite convinced yet, however, I began to take off my skirt. "Do I have to take my panties off too?"

"Leaving them on will actually be a hinderance because I will need the correct measurement between your legs if the belt is to function properly. But rest assured I will NOT touch you there."

That was something I had not considered. But naturally, if one wears a belt for a long time in such a way, one must also be able to go to the toilet.

He took a tape measure from a drawer and came back to me. "Now please pull your sweater upward, so I can measure your waist." He put the tape at the narrowest part of my waist, noted the measurement and then with a felt-tip pen, made a mark on my belly and on my back at the height of the tape. Then he placed the tape measure at the point marked on my belly, pulled it through between my legs and noted the measurement up to the point made on my back." Please put a finger on the place where your anus is." he said, and he noted that too. "This way, you can put your clothes on again while I start getting to work on it."

While I tightened my skirt, he fired the hearth, got a strip of steel from a shelf approximately 5 cm wide and 4 mm thick and using the measurements he had taken, marked three sections out and cut them to length.

For about two hours I looked on interestedly as he bent and slit and punched and bent, and the sections slowly assumed shape. Finally he said: "Please take your skirt and the pull it up to above your waist."

I did as he asked and he came with the first two sections, which he had riveted together with a pin. They now formed a hinge and constituted the waist belt. To put it on me, he opened it up and then encircled me with it so that the hinge was situated in the back and two latches connected in front. The whole thing fitted very closely, an exact fit.

"Hold it in position," he said and went to get the third section.

This he then fitted to me up between my legs, until the two latches of the waist belt slipped into a slot in the front so they could no longer be pulled apart. He pulled the vertical band in the back upward, so that I felt pressure on my belly and on my pubic area, and then he held it in place. "Check once more where your anus is." he said. I felt there and noticed there was an approximately 4 cm wide hole in the band exactly over it. I winked to him. "Okay, now we only have to change the curvature over the belly a little." he said and removed the sections from me again. He then bent the vertical band around some more, sanded down a few sharp edges, then riveted the back end of the vertical band to the back of the waist band right beside the hinge using two strong pins. Next he riveted the front end of the band to the waist band so that one of the latches was situated permanently in the slot. He dug around for something in a large old crate and pulled out a large padlock that looked just as old, checked three or four times whether it could be opened up and closed without problem, and said: "Now, are you ready to completely put it on?"

This time I had to first put a leg into the belt before I could pull up the waist band into the correct position. The second section of the waist band had to be pushed toward and behind the vertical band, until the second latch fitted into the slot.

Afterwards he fitted the shackle of the lock through the two latches, locked it and then handed the key to me. I was enveloped by an indescribable feeling, the type of which excited me much more than anything I had ever experienced before and was completely speechless. But my glowing red face probably gave it away.

"Do I have to adjust or change anything?" he asked. I saw by his trousers that the whole thing had excited him quite a bit and I just shook my head. With the key in my trembling hand, I clumsily began to put my skirt back on (fortunately it was a flexible garment that fitted easily over the lock), gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, said "Thanks.", then ran outside to my car. He called after me: "If there is anything not quite right, call me." However, I was already in my car and drove off.

On the way I almost had an accident and had to stop at the side of the road in order to calm myself down. But I nevertheless somehow made it home and when I had finally fallen on my bed, I remained there motionless for at least an hour.

Then I pulled my skirt down and began to slowly examine myself. First at the waist band and then slowly to my pubic area. First I felt only the iron, but then I felt a narrow slot over my sex. It was however too narrow to reach through, even with just a single finger. At my belly the band fit perfectly, however, on my pubic area there was a constant pressure. Not unpleasant, but continuously present. I also could not reach in from the sides with my fingers. No matter how I tightened up my legs or tried otherwise, I could not provide myself relief and the excitment built up within me. A fantastic feeling. I felt like the luckiest person on earth.

And then I had to use the toilet. Where was the key? I did not have it in my hand anymore, and had no idea of where it could be. I tried to take a deep breathe and noticed that the waist band did not permit this. I had to go quite urgently. I would have to go with the chastity belt on, but I still had my panties on under it. I looked everywhere all the way to the door of the house. Perhaps I had dropped the key somewhere but was unsuccessful locating it. I took some shears, cut the panties in half and pulled them out from underneath the belt. Releived to be in the bathroom, I observed the urine run from the narrow slot. It functioned well. However, a few drops remained under the vertical band where I could not wipe with the paper. But I could catch it with a panty insert. I took a pair of fresh panties with an insert and tightened them over the belt.

The key however could not be found. Anywhere! And I could not free myself. In the long term I could not remain this way. What could I do? In the end it was nevertheless the situation of which I always dreamed, what I pictured so beautifully in my fantasies. I felt like one of those women in the Middle Ages, whose knight rode off into battle and left her locked for an indefinite period of time. I went back to bed and enjoyed the feeling. And because it was already very late, I fell asleep smiling a short time later.

In the morning the alarm tore me from my sleep. It was Monday and I had to be in the office. But the belt, and there was no possible way I could not go to the office. If somebody noticed. It would be awful! I did not have much time and quickly decided I really didn't want to be late. Thus I gathered my clothes together and began to dress myself. Uh-oh, the lock. It was simply enormous, right in the middle of my belly. It clearly created a bump in the material of my skirt. It would be seen by everyone. I hastily rooted through my wardrobe and picked out a long length skirt and a scarf, which I bound loosely around my waist. The image in the mirror said to me that it was functional if not the lastest word in fashion, but the lock to the most extent was covered. I set my hair in its usually ponytail, quickly drank a cup of coffee and was on my way.

I arrived at the office, sneaked in as quietly as possible got to my workstation on time. First I thought it would be plain for everyone to see that I was wearing a chastity belt. But gradually I realized that nobody was paying me any more attention than what was required to get their work done so I turned my concentration to my duties too, at least as much as my excitated state permitted.

Thus the weeks went by and I got somewhat accustomed to the rigidity. I was no longer flexible at the waist, not able to breathe deeply, and I always had to wear a scarf around my waist.

The days during my period were a bit of a problem, but I got though them by using a tight padding and taking several showers each day. I could still not unlock myself yet but I didn't even attempt it either. I loved it.

Once when I was in my car I had to brake sharply. Something slipped forward and rattled in the floor space. When I checked, I found the key. At the time, I must have let it fall in the car. Back home I then for the first time opened the lock and removed the belt. After such a long time I could finally once again shower properly and wash myself everywhere unhindered. It was only natural that I began to masturbate while still under the shower. Like an explosion, all the accumulated desires unloaded themselves and I experienced an intense, penetrating orgasm like I had never had before that left me weak in the knees. Its effect lasted for a very long time.

After that I omitted wearing the belt just once and dressed quite normally. But something somehow seemed to be missing, so in the evening when I went to bed, I locked the belt back on once more.

The next morning I removed the lock, left the belt on, and tried on a pair of jeans. But in the back the broad 5 cm vertical band showed through. I could however wear a normal skirt and omit the scarf around the waist. One could hardly see the latches.

The Second Chastity Belt

I was however not quite content with the belt. First of all it had started to rust and secondly the hole at the anus always got dirty with feces and were difficult to clean when I was wearing the belt.

Therefore I drove one Sunday morning out of the blue to the village and knocked again on the gate of the blacksmith. This time it did not open up. Thus I went around the house and saw yet another door, which probably belonged to the dwelling over it. I knocked. Again there was no response. When I started to go away disappointed back to my car, I heard his voice from above: "Hello? Oh, it's you. Come on up, the door is open." I must have dreamed it, because he sounded rather muffled. Concerned, I looked up and around, however I could not see anybody. Then I heard the shower running in the bathroom and waited for him.

After the water was turned off he called out: "Can you make some coffee please?". I found my way to the kitchen, started up the coffee machine and sat down on a chair. He came in a short time later, touched me briefly in passing at the waist to feel whether I was wearing the belt and already sounded much friendlier: "How are you? The last time you disappeared rather suddenly. How are you getting along with your chastity belt?"

I don't know why, but I told him the entire story, how maddening it was when I couldn't find the key, and ended with the problems for which I required some modifications.

"I thought you wanted it for a play or something," said he, "and didn't think that you wanted to wear the belt continuously. But I have a surprise for you. Come along into the workshop." We descended the stairs again. Here there was a direct access to the workshop. He opened a cabinet and presented another chastity belt: "I inquired and found out in the meantime that modern chastity belts exist. Then I made one from your measurements just in the interest of curiosity. It is made of stainless steel as you can see, and does not cover your rear, but has two chains that part here to the sides before the anus. Thus your problems are probably solved. I am not sure whether the chains are the correct length but you can try it on."

I started to take my skirt off, then it occurred to me that I had to take off my panties too because they were now over the belt. So I asked him: "Where can I change here?"

"You surprised me once already," he laughed. "so I know you better since the last time. You can go next door in the stables. First though I must explain the new catch to you, which is different than the one on the belt which you now wear." He opened the lock and removed it along with an additional piece. The front shield detached itself and fell down, until it hung freely on the chains. "You can pull the band apart and place it on your waist over your hips, then you must put the holes on the one side onto the three pins on the other side. Now the shield is pulled up between the legs and its holes are also placed over the pins. The catch with the lock is attached last and the lock is then snapped shut."

"It looks quite simple." I said, and took the belt from his hands, went to next room and closed the door. I then undressed, took the old belt off and put the new band around my waist. It was covered with neoprene and felt very pleasant. However, it was somewhat tighter than the older one. Then I pulled the shield forward, which hung on the chains at my back, connected it, and locked the whole thing up. I noted that the slot over my pubic area was somewhat broader, and that the material was also thinner, pressing my inner lips partially through.

The chains were a big difference. I felt further to the rear and for sure my sex was completely blocked by the steel. Then I came to the d-ring that the chains were fastened to and my rear was completely free.

I pulled my panties again over the belt, took the skirt into my hand and went back into the workshop. As I moved I noticed my inner lips moved quite easily in the slot, which caused a pleasant feeling to flow over me.

"Let me check you over now." said the blacksmith and then, after a thorough investigation he said: "The chains could be a little bit longer, it leaves some marks on your bottom. Do we need to change that?"

"No, no," I replied, "It feels quite pleasant and the material shines so beautifully. A wonderful job."

I could see that again he had been aroused by the activities that were taking place. But this time I felt safe within my chastity belt.

"Now, will you have another cup coffee or run out again like you did last time?" he asked. "No, no," I said confidently and pulled my skirt on before we went back up into the kitchen. We talked once more for a long time and slowly he won my confidence. I permitted him to minutely inspect his work again before I drove home.

The new chastity belt functioned absolutely perfect. I could touch and stimulate my lips, but it was impossible to satisfy myself as long as I wore the belt. Again I left it on for several weeks before I freed myself. During this time I often had an uncanny desire which increased more and more. I had nearly given up a few times, but I held out through the weeks and when I finally did unlock it, I was compensated with several overpowering orgasms until I fell into a faint-like sleep.

Afterwards I never held out for a very long time, the time spans between when I unlocked myself and masturbated becoming shorter and shorter. And then I opened the belt almost daily. I required that there should not be any key around that would allow me to release myself.

The Final Chastity Belt

And then the summer came. When it became warm enough, I tried to see whether I could wear a bathing suit over the belt in order to go to the beach. But the lock on my belly and the chains in the back showed too clearly. Well, I could always pull another set of shorts over it, but I did not really want that.

In the meantime I had seen a drawing in a fairy tale book for adults in which the princess wore a chastity belt that had a very wide waist band and front shield. The whole thing so exactly fitted her body contours that it had to be practically invisible under clothes. On the drawing the prince was attempting to open its built-in lock. I however wanted to have no lock, so the belt would be permanent.

I did not know whether such a thing could even be created, therefore I looked up the telephone number of my blacksmith, which I had made a note of the last time, called him and told him of the drawing and my ideas.

He was very much surprised and considered it for a while. Then he said it could somehow be accomplished. In any case I would have to drop by beforehand in order for him to make a plaster casting of me. I would have to shave myself down all around quite smoothly because otherwise the hairs would stick in the plaster and removing it would become very unpleasant.

Although the thought made me shudder, I was so possessed by my idea that I made an immediate appointment to come the next Sunday.

On Sunday I rose early, removed my belt, showered thoroughly and began to cut my pubic hair with small shears. Afterwards I took the electric shaver, which I had actually bought for my legs, and shaved everything closely. Then I coated the skin with a moisturizing cream. That created an amusing, unusual feeling and in doing so I had brought myself to such a state that I quickly locked the belt back on myself. Brrrrr, was that cold. But the metal quickly assumed the warmth of my body. I made myself up and then drove in great anticipation toward the small village blacksmith shop.

My blacksmith was already expecting me. First he still wanted to know a few details so I explained my concepts to him exactly. Then it became serious. I had to be totally naked. I was only allowed to wear my bra. I was somewhat afraid, but I found I could not stop myself . He had spread a foil in the center of the workshop on which I should place myself. He then rubbed a greasy cream all over me. "With this the fine hairs of your body will not stick in the plaster and will allow it to seperate from you more easily afterwards." he explained. I was allowed to grease up my pubic area myself. Afterwards I had to hold myself quite still, my legs somewhat apart and my arms spread out slightly. He retrieved the plaster mixture and then began to coat me with it.

He started from under my chest to the fronts of my thighs, and I was not allowed to move myself at all until the plaster had hardened. He made some more markings on my skin, on the plaster at the sides and between my legs. Then I had to do exactly the same for the rear side was as well, because he said otherwise the two halves would not fit correctly into each other. I managed to stand still with no problems for quite a long time but eventually my legs began to ache. But then he removed the rear portion and I was allowed to go upstairs in order to wash myself under the shower to get the remaining plaster and the greasy cream off.

When I was finished, I went back downstairs and dressed quickly. In the meantime he had begun to carefully work on the two halves so that they fit exactly onto one another. Afterwards he coated the entire insides with the greasy cream, fitted the halves together and layered a thick coating of plaster inside. He waited for it to set and then removed the shaped parts. I was mildly astonished: there stood my torso in plaster. "Now," he said, "I must think about how I am to make the sections so that they will correspond to your ideas. I think I will need about two weeks because it is not going to be very easy. Am I to call you when it is finished?" "No, I will call you." I answered because I did not want to give him my telephone number.

The next two weeks were torture. I could hardly concentrate on my work and in the evening my thoughts were always on the chastity belt which was being made for me.

Actually I wanted to remain strong, but the excitement drove me to unlock the belt and satisfy myself again and again, until one day I got rid of keys permanently by throwing them out in the trash can. It was still difficult for me to concentrate on much else though.

Saturday finally arrived and I called him. "Hi," he answered nonchalantly, "It's finished, you can come on over." Of course it was impossible for me to get to sleep that night. I tried to divert my thoughts somehow, but only an endless period of waiting remained until I could drive there.

When I arrived he already had everything prepared. The back section had been placed on the large work bench with a piece of wood under it, and the front part was sitting beside it. "That sure was a difficult job." he explained. "High-grade steel is not very easy to work with. And it also had to be very exact so that the connections would fit. I made the waist narrower, because it must be at least 10 mm thick at the sides so that the 5 mm tie bolts and the safety lock pins have sufficient material to anchor themselves in. The external dimensions correspond exactly to your body, but on the inside it is a little tighter."

I picked up the front part and nearly dropped it because it was rather heavy. He said "Yes, You are going to be carrying a few Kilos more around with you than before." The waist band was 17 cm wide with 4 pins on each side that fit the drillings in the back. It resembled a tortoise shell. It then continued downward like a pair of very low cut briefs. Each curve, even my small pubic mound was exactly formed out. "When can we begin? " I asked impatiently.

I had to undress again up to my midsection and told him that I had thrown the keys to my belt away. He only shook his head, and because the hasp was covered by the shroud, he had to drill out the lock. I then laid myself down onto the back section on the work bench. At my waist he had to help me a little and then he put a thin metal strip on each side between my skin, which had rode up a little bit, and the concave back section. "The reason for this is so your skin does not get pinched." he explained. "Are you okay so far?" I nodded and he took the front section, placed it over me and lined up the pins into the holes, paying careful attention that the metal strips did not move and cleared the edges. "Those fit in quite easily," he said, "but now I will have to become somewhat rougher."

He took a piece of wood and a large hammer, placed the wood on one side and struck it with the hammer, then did the same on the other side. Not very hard, but I could easily feel the vibrations. He continued to change from one side to the other and slowly but steadily the front part lowered itself until the joint was closed. I began to breathe more heavily, and since the belt was fitted just under my ribs, my entire chest clearly raised and lowered itself with each breath. There was no space left underneath; it fit perfectly. I glowed with excitement.

"Are you quite sure you want to do this? We can still open it again with relative ease, but once the safety lock pins are in it will become much more complicated and you will not be able in any way to free yourself from it".

"Will you do it nevertheless?" I asked.

"I will, but I had to think long and hard about it." he answered. "Once inside this thing you will be protected like Fort Knox. Do you really want that?"

I wanted it. I wanted it absolutely! "Do it." I said, in a hoarse voice.

"It is going to be a tight fit." he warned, took a pin with a 2 mm diameter and struck it directly with the hammer into one of the smaller drill holes which I had not noticed until that time. My whole body shuddered with each impact. He repeated the process seven more times until all the pins were secured. Then he pulled the two metal strips out by the bottom and I was allowed to rise.

My first attempt failed pitifully. I was sitting there like a turned over tortoise when I noticed how rigid I was in my new cage. Only by pushing myself up with my arms was I able to sit up before I could climb down from the workbench.

Meanwhile he had brought out a large mirror and leaned it against the wall so that I could admire myself in my full splendour. It looked strange. My figure looked exactly the same, only now some of my body had turned a shiny silver colour. There were no noticable transition lines.

"A masterpiece!" I praised him. Even my pubic area was copied exactly. But wait, there was something missing. There wasn't any slot visible. Frightened, I wanted to check, however I was unable to bend over to look.

He responded, "Only a few small holes are provided to urinate through. And if you check further, you will find a hole 6 mm in size where your vagina is. There you can attach a small hose or douche so you can clean the area with water." I continued to feel around. Between my legs the section ended just before my anus. In the back I felt a bar, which disappeared just like a Tanga between my cheeks. "What is that for?" I asked." "Well, if you could push your bottom to the rear, you would be able to slip out from behind the front shield and your vagina would be accessible. The bar prevents that." And truly, from the chest down, it was no longer possible for me to bend or turn my body, no matter how much I tried.

At my waist I felt the pins. Something was sticking out and I said to him "It is not quite finished yet." He replied "Here, you have to put on these safety goggles in order to protect your eyes." He took a grinding machine and began the sand the pins off. This was accompanied by many flying sparks and after that he installed a finer grinding wheel, polishing the sides until they shone brightly again. The metal became very warm, but not so bad that it could have burned me. "We are now finished, " he said. "Look into the mirror again." Completely astonished, I went up quite close and could no longer detect any joint. I was enclosed in a smooth armor made of brightly shining high-grade steel. It exceeded even my finest dreams.

That was approximately two years ago. I can even wear a bathing suit to the beach and in the water now without anyone noticing anything. I cannot swim however. First of all I cannot push properly anymore and also the weight would quite surely pull me back down. I have become accustomed to my movement handicaps as much as possible and learned to compensate for these in everyday life by moving differently. I also learned I could have a small orgasm by stroking my breasts, which reduces to some extent my accumulated desires. At my pubic area even the smallest contact is not possible. There is only hard steel. Oh, I love it.

The Breast Shield

Several months later, when I discovered my ability to have breast orgasms, I became slowly dependent on them. At first, I limited myself to one a week. However, they are nowhere near as satifying as a real orgasm, and I craved more. Once a week became several times a week, once a day, and finally several times a day. At this point, the satisfaction I was getting began to take away from the constant feeling of excitement that I was used to. I thought about it, and then decided that I would like to have my nipples covered by steel and no longer accessible as well.

I dug through my address book, and finally located the number of the blacksmith. He was somewhat surprised to hear from me after such a long time, and was interested to know how how I was getting on with my belt. I told him about the problem I was having, and asked if he could think of a solution. Although he could not think of a solution immediately, he suggested that I come back in over the weekend and have some measurements taken.

Saturday afternoon, I returned to the blacksmith's shop. On my way in, I admired a new display of various arms and armor which the blacksmith had created. Apparently, he had taken up making medieval pieces as a hobby, and had gotten quite good at it.

He came out to greet me. "I have thought about this a lot, and I have two proposals for you," he said. "The first thing that can be done is to use a small shield to cover just the tip of the nipple and the surrounding area." He showed me a small dome shaped cap, with a dimple in it that would cover the nipple. "The second option, which I have not made yet, would be a full bra arrangement, with a casted steel bust."

I inspected the cap, and pondered his proposal for a minute. "Which is better?" I asked.

"Well," he considered, "they are quite different. The shields would need some sort of anchor to remain in place, in which case you would need some kind of piercing to hold them. Even then, you could still get a finger underneath the shield, to at least the surrounding area. The bust would of course be heavier, but more secure."

"Couldn't you make a bra, with only small shields, so that it could be lighter?", I asked.

"Yes," the blacksmith said, "I considered that. But it would be too easy to push the breasts out from underneath, unless it was painfully tight. Also, it would need to go over the shoulders, which would severly limit your movement. With a full plate bust, a single snug strap across the back would suffice. You wouldn't be able to pull it down, because your breasts would be in the way. You wouldn't be able to touch your breasts at all.. "

"That sounds good," I interrupted.

He led me out back to his workroom, where he had a chair set up. "We'll need to make a plaster cast of your breasts first," he instructed. I removed my blouse, and sat in the chair. He gave me grease to apply to my breasts, so the plaster would not stick. I let him apply the plaster to my breasts and we spent time chatting while waiting for it to dry. At least this time, I was able to sit comfortably, which made the waiting less. When it was all finished, he gave me a towel, and let me take a shower to clean up. "It should be ready tomorrow, barring any difficulties," he said. "Should I call you when it is ready?"

"No, that is ok," I responded. "I can always stop by anyway, if that is ok."

He nodded, and after exchanging farewells and many thanks, I got on my way. That night I had a difficult time sleeping. Would I be able to find a new way to relieve myself? Did I really want to prevent myself from that? As I thought about this, I got more and more excited with the possibility. I tried to hold off, but the temptation was too much, and I started stroking my breasts. I went as slowly as possible, keeping myself right on the edge for as long as I could, until I had my strongest breast orgasm yet. Still, not close to a real orgasm, but enough to drive down my excitement level temporarily. I knew then, that this was something I needed to do.

After not getting a real night of sleep, I slept in as much as I could. That afternoon, when I awoke, and what happened that day were almost like a dream. When I was showered and ready to go over to the blacksmith's, the urge came over me again. This time, I was able to control myself, just teetering on the brink. I had never been more excited, more frustrated, or more nervous in my life. My hands trembling, I quickly got dressed and drove over to the blacksmith.

When I arrived, he noticed that I was quite nervous. More nervous, in fact, than when my belt was put on. He kindly asked if I would like a moment of privacy, or if there was anything he get could me. I asked for a cup of tea. When he returned, I took a couple of sips, and was able to regain my composure.

"Is everything allright?", he asked. I nodded, and he asked again, "Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

"More than anything else in the world," I replied. A sense of peace and calm came over me as I surrendered myself to the fact of what was going to happen. He motioned, and we went into the workshop.

He showed me the bust. A beautiful, shiny replica of my own breasts, forged in steel. I flushed a bit in the cheeks when I saw that you could still see the impression of my nipple in the covers. He held it up for me to inspect. "It's beautiful," I said. "Better than I could have imagined." It was a solid cover piece, with no shoulder straps, and an open back. The inside was lined with a soft foam. Two wide spadelike straps came from each side, meeting with a large gap at the back.

"The locking mechanism is rather unique," he said. "See this piece," he held up a wide metal strap, "attaches to the back. It has a ridged interior. The spade on the end of the straps fits into this, but inside is a series of metal flanges. Once the sloped portion of the spade pushes the flanges aside, they spring back into place," he said. He showed me a demonstration on a plastic model of the piece with a transparent cover. "Once in place, the flat back side of the spade can not push them back out. So the straps can only go further in, never out."

Somehow, this was strangely comforting to me. I smiled, and thanked him once again. "I'm ready," I said. My heart leapt as I unbuttoned my blouse and mentally prepared myself.

"Ok, here we go," he said. "Raise your arms." He took the bust and placed it sideways, on my left. The straps had just a large enough gap that they were able to span my rib cage, and allow entry. He rotated the bust down and to the right, bringing it down just on top of my breasts. There was just enough gap to allow for adjustments. "Tell me when your breasts are touching the bottom of each cup," he said. After some minor adjustments, the piece was in place. "Now, hold still. I am going to use a vice to keep the piece in place. This will help distribute the pressure." He put a large round disk against my back, and tightened a vice around the front and back of my chest. "Now, I am going to hammer the connecting strap onto the back. This may be a bit uncomfortable, but I will try to be as quick as possible. Let me know if you develop a pinch anywhere." With that, he proceeded to hammer the connecting strap onto the left side. The vice did a good job of stopping some of the blows, as did the foam, but there was still a lot of vibration. "And now, to connect it to the right," he said. "Do you need a break?"

"No, I'm ok," I replied. With that, he began tapping the piece into place. As the right strap began to feed into the connecter, I felt the bust getting noticeably tighter.

"Let me know if you start to become uncomfortable. We want it to be tight, but not painful." I waited patiently as he slowly tapped the right side futher and further into the back.

"Ok, that feels good," I said. I took a deep breath, and it felt constricted, but the foam helped buffer the expansion of my chest. That would definitely take getting used to.

"I think that does it then," he said as he tugged up and down on the bra in various places. It didn't slide at all.

"Thanks again, so very much," I told him. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Anytime you want me to practice my craft on you, let me know. It's always such an intruiging problem!," he said. "And if you need any adjustments made, just give me a call."

When I got home, the first thing I did was to undress and look at myself in the mirror. What a sight. Now, with steel around my hips, and perfect steel breasts, just slightly pushed up and alert, I was a dazzling sight. I felt my crotch, and only felt the smooth steel under my fingers. I moved up to my breasts, and ran my hands all over. The shape was just the same, only slightly bigger, but the touch of the still cold steel was exhilerating. I felt completely alive, completely passionate, and an overwhelming calm sense of total surrender. I turned out the light and just lay in bed, imagining myself a lady in waiting for her knight to return, forever unsure of if and when he would return. My passion was intense, and there was nothing I could do to cure it but lull myself to sleep with my fantasy.

I went on living like that for over a year. Each night, sinking into the sweet surrender of my fantasy, each day growing more and more passionate with need. With my breasts and my sex securely locked away, I could do nothing to relieve myself.

I needed to have another meeting with my blacksmith. The telephone only came back with the message: "This number is no longer in service." Therefore I once more drove to the village. At the wood gate I found a sign, "Closed", and the house uninhabited. A small panic rose in me and I ran to the hotel and figured out once there that the place had probably gone bankrupt and had been sold. No, nobody knew where he had gone. Now I was sorry that I had not given him my telephone number. How should I continue now? Should I remain forever as my own prisoner?

In the meantime I accepted it. And when I cannot bear it any longer, I will search for someone new who is skilled in the handling of high-grade steel and to whom I can confide in. It is too bad for me that it takes me such a long time to trust anyone.

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Jan Thor
www.janthor.com
jan@janthor.de