Chastity Planet Episode 4 continued

And here's the concluding part of Episode 4. I think there's another to come. As always, it all depends on reader reaction...

He shuddered. "No. That's not fair!"

"But you are wanting to come?" cooed Brigit, rubbing insistently.

"Yes! No.. Ah...!"

The sharp sensation set Tom straining in his bonds, pulling back his hips. But Brigit's fingers followed. Tom's penis throbbed crazily, trying to burst free of the flesh-welded cup

"It's a bit like an oversized love button," she mused.

The semen forced its way through his penis like molten lava. Tom whimpered and clenched his buttocks, doing everything to draw back on the torrent.

Brigit yelped and leapt to her feet.

Tom's penis rippled. He thrust his hips but felt nothing as a months' worth of semen drained from the blank cup.

The girls laughed and Tom blushed. Shorn of the fuzz of sexual frustration, he felt achy, sticky, foolish—

Mary gave the whip an experimental flourish. The tails fanned out and swished the air. Not a whip then, a scourge.

--and scared. "Please no! You can’t do this!"

Mary grinned like a demented pixie. "But I can, and I will!" As the other two girls arranged themselves on the nearest bed to watch, the petite blonde paced around to stand to his left. He glimpsed the scourge rise, then pain-drops spattered his back.

Tom yelped and arched back against his bonds.

Mary giggled and struck him again, this time on the buttocks.

The impact rocked through into his chastity cup and his flaccid penis twitched.

"How am I doing?" she asked.

Tom just whimpered.

Brigit grinned. "I've had an idea." She rolled to her feet, put her back to Tom and lifted the hem of her silvery dress to unveil moon-white buttocks dusted with freckles.

Deidre's jaw dropped. "Brigit Ursula O'Hara, what do you think you are doing?"

Brigit shifted her silver-sandled feet apart and bent over to rest her hands on the bed.

Tom's eyes widened. His cock stirred inside its prison.

The red head reached back one hand to guide his... no, the fake... cock into her pussy, and pushed her cool buttocks against his thighs. "I promised him sex."

"Are you quite finished?" asked Mary from his left.

"Yes," said Brigit, her Celtic lilt turning into a luxurious drawl. She glanced over her freckled shoulder. "Whip him until he bleeds."

The scourged swished and clawed the back of Tom's left thigh. He screamed and writhed against the bonds that pinned him in a taut X. The dildo slurped and the redhead moaned.

Now the scourge bit his shoulders, his waist, his buttocks, dotting around randomly so there was no way to brace for the pain. Each assault forced a scream from his throat and made his hips jerk. The redhead kept her buttocks jammed firmly against his thighs, so his agonised movements made the dildo so churn and squelched inside her red-thatched vagina.

The plump girl on the bed reached inside her sheet. Her arm worked in time to the pain. Her face purpled. She drew in her legs, shedding her covering entirely so that he could see her chubby fingers in the midst of her thick black curls, churning away at her glistening lips.

And the scourge scored his back, making wet sounds as it landed.

Tom gave up screaming and now Brigit's and Deidre's mingled moans buffeted his ears. The plump girl curled forward and seemed to meet the tall redhead's gaze, then she gave a long groan, and that triggered an answering cry of orgasm.

The pain ceased. "Thank God!" said Mary. "My arm hurts."

The redhead twitched forward off Tom's dildo, straightened herself and brushed down her skirt silvery skirt. "You can go now." She clapped her hands. "Release."

The bonds simply gave.

Tom dropped to his knees and then toppled to sprawl on the floor. The welts criss-crossing his back and buttocks became a throbbing web of pain.

"No, he can't be going," said Mary, behind him. Her bare feet pattered around him and appeared before his face. Her toes were neatly pedicured, but with no sign of nail polish. "Kiss my feet," she said.

Tom raised his face. "Go to Hell!" His gaze ran up her slender thighs and beyond the hem of her T-shirt. A sodden furrow divided her blonde frizz, leaving her red pubic lips.

He kissed the top of Mary's tiny feet.

The salt and dust collected on his tongue and it was as if the web of pain collapsed into his groin.

With a groan, he forced his tongue between her toes. The sweaty tang made his chastity cup clench like a robotic fist. He whimpered and licked up towards her anklebone. "Let me fuck you."

Mary laughed. The scourge caught him in the cheek.

His face blazed and he sprawled onto his marred back to lie their pinned by fatigue and pain.

"I have a better idea..." Her footsteps receded. The fabricator pinged and the girls giggled.

Tom raised his head.

The petite blonde stood before him, naked now; pert breasts glistening in the light, nipples standing out like finger tips, and a black penis sprouting from her groin as if it belonged. "I think I'll be the one doing the fucking."

Tom yelped. His anus clenched, sending blood into his captive groin. "No!"

Mary's eyes narrowed. "But you want it, don’t you?"

The tall redhead appeared beside her, equally naked except for her strappy sandals, long legs stretching up to where a dildo protruded from her red bush. "I'm sure he does. Why else would he have come home with me?" said Brigit sweetly.

Deidre stepped out from behind the taller girl. From between her chubby thighs projected a short fat dildo. Her round face creased into a wide grin. "I'd say he was asking for it."

Tom shuffled backwards and collided with a sofa.

The three girls took a step forward, double-headed dildos glistening with lubrication.

Chastity Planet: It's not about the boy

I'm not convinced I've built Chastity Planet quite right.

By giving post-orgasmic women the option to reward men by making the front of the chastity cup open, I've made the whole power structure about male sexuality.

This is fine if I want the place to be like Ibiza, or Spring Break, with frolicking hotties on the rampage taking advantage of overwhelmed young men.

It's less fine if I want it to be a place where more demure ladies might take a holiday, only to be drawn in to wilder adventures.

As it stands, there's no way that Chastity Planet could downplay the erotic nature of what it offers enough to allay the suspicions of parents sending their 18-year old daughters to the Conservatory.

There are two ways around this.

The easiest is just to close all chastity cups, end of story. The horny males still live in fear of earning demerits, or falling down the status ladder, but there's no chance of an orgasm.

The alternative is to rule that Chastity Planet is a federation of several nations, each with its own laws, and each loudly decrying the others for departing from the original feminist vision.

The major continent is sealed-cup only, and so the main - ostenisble - destination for tourists and students. However, other more S&M cultures also exist....

Survey: Chastity Planet still on top...

Chastity Planet is still clearly in the lead, so much so that I'm tempted to make this my next long project.

Should I make it more retro SciFi in feel? I think it would work better. In a "realistic" far future, robots would take the place of slaves.

And then there's the costumes. I've vaguely assumed it was best to keep things close to our own fashions.

But, perhaps I'm wrong.

Food for thought....

"Sing if you're glad to be chayste"

This new story idea has got its hooks into me: a world where orgone-harvesting aliens have arbitrarily chastised 5% of the males between 18 and 40, turning them into chaystes.

Should there be a downside to getting turned on? Perhaps the aliens only have so many channels. So if you can just avoid sexual excitement for a few years, perhaps the thing drops off and they abduct some other sucker. This would make older chaystes somewhat suspect in the public eye. Or is it better to have "chayste" as an irrevocable identity that you just have to learn to live with?

Should people be able to tell that you're chayste?

If you can keep your chaysteness secret, then that gives us "coming out" stories, and scenes where she comes on to him, and he's trying to hide the fact he has no accessible genitals...

On the other hand, if the aliens collar their orgone donars, then that will mark them out as sexual targets for predatory young women, but also as safe playmates for intriguingly inhibited ones--

--realistically it's probably what the aliens would do, assuming they have any knowledge of humans.

What would they use? A collar or forehead crystal would be too easy to hide. How about a palm crystal, like in Logan's Run? Alien booby traps would prevent the obvious surgical solution. It would certainly be hard to hide from anybody you knew, but you could hide it most of the time in public spaces.

Perhaps it glows redder, the less orgone you produce. So, if you live the life of an ascetic hermit, it'll shine like a beacon, beckoning all the predatory females...

The real 3rd sex?

So, now Chastity Planet is pulling ahead. I wonder why?

Perhaps men who like chastity aren't always necessarily interested in traditional femdom except as a context for chastity.

Traditionally, the sexes are numbered 1-3:

1st Sex - Men who fuck women
2nd Sex - Women who fuck men
3rd Sex - Homosexuals...WHAT?

It's not logical, is it?

Let me propose, instead:

1st Sex - Straight
2nd Sex - Gay
3rd Sex - Chaste

Because, really, "Chaste" is a sexuality. I don't mean in a keyholder relationship. Nothing wrong with that (all clean fun). I mean full on prefers to wear a chastity belt for all erotic activity.

You know you're a bit chaste - should I spell it "chayste"? - if taking the device off at the end of an erotic encounter always feels like a bit of a come down, as if you were turning your back on another world.

How many people are fully chayste? Very few, I suspect. Most of us are straight, or gay as well.

But, imagine a world like ours, but where chayste was a recognised orientation? Perhaps one you didn't choose, but that you made the best of.

How do I get all these millions of young men into chastity devices, I wonder?

Obvious: Aliens harvesting orgone energy!

Suppose, from time to time, they just drop from the sky, grab a horny college boy and slap some alien tech over his privates? Nothing else would change, there'd be no new technology, no change in the laws. Just some frustrated guys powering distant flying saucers...

Hmmm.....

Survey Results so far...

The survey is bringing in some interesting results.

At the moment, my Whips and Stockingtops world is clearly lagging behind - I wonder if it's too similar to Chaste Britannia? Do whip-wielding chicks in togas have the edge over their stocking-clad counterparts?

Or perhaps an utterly dehumanised role for a slave just isn't that interesting. Is it more better if the mistress engages with her slave as a man?

Worlds of Chastity

(Original image from here.)

I was just thinking about how my four main settings offer a different relationship between slavery and Lesbianism:

In "Whips and Stockingtops", Lesbianism is the norm so you get plenty of f/f action, but no transgressive seduction. The good thing is that the slave's presence is taken for granted, so he gets to watch the action.

The world of "The Chastity Belt" is just our world plus a hi-tech CB. Our hero is sort of enslaved, and there are some juicy scenes where vanilla girls get seduced by this, but he's not going to routinely get to watch transgressive Lesbian seductions.

"Chaste Britannia" is my alternate Roman setting. It's quite normal to own a slave, and high-class ladies don't notice them. However, Lesbianism isn't so he does get to watch the seductions.

"Chastity Planet" is a pleasure world. The women who visit the place aren't used to having male slaves, and Lesbianism, when it happens, is transgressive.

Brothel Slave

(double click for full size)

This one's haunted me for a while. It's one of those pre-1930 pictures you find knocking around the Internet and it seems to tell a story. There's something a bit scary about the lady, so....

What the slave sees....

Why....?

Slavery is not a sexual fantasy

A recent post by Saratoga reminded me that much of the attraction of slavery is not in itself sexual: it's a way of dodging the full complexities of adulthood, and the responsibilities of adult relationships - so much so that emotional fulfillment is the one thing the owner would certainly not get from it. In fantasy, and in historical reality, the owner doesn't notice the slave, or at least doesn't engage emotionally with him.

In bedroom play, the owner can enjoy some pampering and assisted masturbation. And longer daytime sessions offer her chore-free "me time". But for any longer; I think most women would get lonely.

In real slave owning cultures, the owners looked for emotional fulfillment to their friends and lovers - in my fantasies at least, all of them female...

...because, yes, sex does feature as part of the fantasy, whether watching my mistress go to it with her Sapphic lover, or providing a very personal service.

However, I do wonder whether much of the erotic charge of this odd sort of participant voyeurism is that it is an expression of the wider, non-sexual role...

Stockingtops in 3D

It's rather odd watching this, as if the time-portal were just firing up.

He's achieved the effect by taking a stereo image - yep, porn drove technology, even back then - and simply using animation to flick between the two views.

End result... you could almost lift her the skirt of her slip. I wonder what you'd find...

More here...

The Chastity Belt: What happened next....?

Actually, only I have the answer! It came to me out of the blue. I think I'll call it Chastity on the Beach. Here's a taster of the first draft...

Mark thumbed his way up Cassandra's spine. The suntan lotion made her skin glisten like warm toffee. She let out a long, "Mmmmm..." and his chastity belt tightened.

From behind him came the sound of splashes and giggles; the other two thirds of the Trio making the most of the Mediterranean. It would be nice to turn and watch, but slaves don't choose their own actions, and there was no place with these glorious girls except as a slave.

"Unclip the top," ordered Cassandra.

Mark smiled. The holiday sun had thawed and tanned the alabaster-skinned ice maiden, and streaked her chestnut hair with gold, but she was still the formidable girl he'd fallen in love with. Gingerly, he unfastened the bikini top and rolled his thumbs from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck, again and again, enjoying the sweep of her hourglass figure. Each sweep tightened his chastity belt until it felt as if a mailed fist clutched his lost penis.

"Cease." She shifted to place her arms by her side and turned her head to place her cheek on the mat. "Shoulder blades."

Mark knelt back, squirted some lotion into his hand and rubbed his palms to warm it.

A shriek and a splash came from the water.

He gave up and stole a glance into the glare beyond the sunshade.

The other two girls were well out in the private bay, fighting over a lilo. As he watched, Felicity hauled herself aboard and – sodden hair and bare breasts swinging - flopped onto the inflatable. Moira shot out of the water like a polka-dot porpoise and landed astride the larger girl. The water had turned the Scottish readhead's tied-back hair brown-black, but the sun had brought out her freckles, so it seemed that an exotic tattoo covered every inch of her exposed skin.

"Demerit," snapped Cassandra.

Mark's cock twitched inside the chastity belt. He bobbed his head, even though she wasn't looking. "Yes, Mistress."

As he thumbed her shoulder blades, the tingle of excitement faded into irritation. There was nothing erotic about his morning beatings; kneeling in the courtyard, too hungry, too bleary, to be turned on while a girl in a faded t-shirt laid into him with a riding whip. And yet, he had no choice. A guy sealed into indestructible chastity belt is lucky if he belongs anywhere at all.

Depression welled up in the pit of his stomach—-

--and his cock throbbed into life, hopelessly straining against his Quantumite prison.

Mark smiled. The good thing about being a masochist is that even the turnoffs are a turn-on... sort of.

"Legs now."

Mark shifted his hands to just short of her silver ankle-bracelet and kneaded the powerful calve muscle. Not fashionable legs, he decided. But the curves looked great in stockings. He frowned. Too hot for those at the moment. He worked his way up her near leg as far as the crease where thigh met rump. Then he leant over and repeated the procedure for the far leg. As he reached the top, she raised her hips.

"Remove the briefs and do my buttocks."

Mark slid jet black garment down her long legs. As he reached her ankles, he twisted his head and stole a glance. The tops of her thighs formed an arrow-shaped frame around her ruby labia.

The throbbing in the chastity belt merged into a solid, prickling, pressure. Mark licked his lips and remembered lapping at her crotch, willing his mouth with her juices. But that was before the Trio.

He bent over Cassandra's buttocks, using his weight to pummel and kneed them like rich dough. The hot, animal aroma of her vulva drifted up to tickle his nostrils. His mouth watered and his fingertips tingled with the knowledge that they were inches from the unattainable source - more unattainable now that it had been during his year long pursuit.

The giggles and splashes approached. Feet thudded on the sand.

At least back then, he had had a dark sort of hope. Now he was just a housekeeper, manservant and masseur.

Wet female flesh brushed Mark's flank, setting off a spasm in his penis. The chastity belt beeped, but nobody took any notice of that any more; no amount of self restraint could reduce his life sentence now.

Felicity cocked a leg over Cassandra's torso and shimmied. Water cascaded from her bare breasts and sodden hair.

"Hey!" Cassandra rolled over, breasts a streak of white. "You utter cow!" She started to sit up.

Moira pounced from the side and fastened her mouth on the Cassandra's nipple.

"Wet! Cold! Off!" expostulated Cassandra. "Off!.. Oh..." She lay back down. "Oh... I'm ready for this."

The petite Scots girl slithered astride Cassandra's thigh. The one-piece bathing suit with a retro-fringe of skirt made her look girlish, but the twitches of her pelvis were those of a woman intent on grinding her groin to orgasm.

Felicity giggled and dropped down next to the pair, forcing Mark to scrabble out of the way. She flicked back her hair, them carefully pinched Cassandra's free breast and slid her between her legs. Cassandra's lips went naked these days, the chestnut curls trimmed back for the easy access of tongue and fingertip – female tongue and fingertip.

Cassandra moaned and raised her hips, lifting Moira like a jockey riding a horse over a jump. "Christ, just do it! "

Felicity laughed. "Do what?"

Cassandra raised her head. "Finger me..."

Felicity gave the nipple a tug.

"Ah... Finger me, you bitch!"

"Like this?" Felicity's fingers slid inside.

Cassandra moaned and squirmed. The movement triggered a squeal from Moira. The tiny Celtic lass twitched her hips into a frenzy, and whimpered into Cassandra's captive breast--

--and Mark just knelt there on the edge of the shade, waiting for orders, and watching. His chastity belt throbbed like a second heart and he found himself swaying in time to Moira's grindings.

Perhaps the Trio had turned him into some sort of sexless servant. But they were worth it....

Her morning after...

(Click the picture for a large size image)

In my Whips and Stockingtops world, the men are all chastity-caged slaves, and the women - all lesbians - are barely aware of the humanity of the males who serve them. And serve them they do, sexually, of course, but mainly as mundane servants.

It's a slave fantasy, yes, but it's a realistic one. Except for the rare pervert - after all, a small percentage of the females will be straight in any circumstances - nobody's interested in teasing or tormenting their slave; in fact, nobody's interested in their slave, full stop.

Even so, the system of slavery itself generates teasing and denial, and frequent corporal punishment. A slave serves his owner as she entertains her lovers, acts as a masturbation toy on lonely nights, and spends his waking hours tormented by her stocking-clad proximity, all without any chance of sexual gratification - the cage implanted in his groin sees to that - and without any consciousness on her part.

It all seems quite dark, but in the darkness is comfort.

As with most slavery fantasies, the slave need not wrestle with the mixed messages we modern men get about sex; he has orders to touch - and how - and permission to look. The impersonal nature of this particular fantasy goes further. It frees the slave of any expectations to react in a certain way.

Nothing is for him, so it doesn't matter if he's turned on, or bored. She doesn't care if he's staring at her enticing figure, or if his mind is wandering to the kitchen tasks, or if he loves her, or hates her. She doesn't require anything of him, except physical service, and he need never feel guilt again.

Lust, however.....

(Original images found floating around the web. They're so old, I'm assuming they don't belong to anybody. However, if they're yours, then please let me know and I'll link to you, or just delete them.)

Interesting wordpress blog...

Like me, the Horny Time Traveler takes erotic excursions in time, but in his case strictly backwards.Mind you, some of his holiday snaps could come from my own Chaste Britannia.

The perfect SciFi chastity belt...

One of my captioneering friends raised the question; If you had access to SciFi technology, what's your perfect chastity belt?

I want - not a belt - but a stick-on cup, like the devices in my Chastity Planet stories. I'd want a detachable prosthetic, and - beyond that - a range of options for time-locking, including the good old "time-lock runs backwards when you're turned on".

Chastity Planet Episode 4

Here's Chapter 4 of Chastity Planet. It'll make more sense if you start at the first episode of this SF male chastity story.

Mary stood over Tom in just a T-shirt that just reached the tops of her bare thighs. A flush colored the petite blond's cheeks and the fabric around one pert nipple had been pulled to a point. She pushed a hand under his nose and the scent of fresh pussy invaded Tom's nostrils.
With a groan, he latched onto her fingers. The taste lashed through him, stirring up a crazy throbbing inside the chastity cup that made him sway this way and that.
"He's looking broken," said Mary. "I was wanting my first time to be a bit more vigorous."
Brigit's silver sandals appeared next to the blond's neat bare feet. The whip trailed down past her shins. Tom traced the leather tail up to where her hand hung by her side, just beyond the short hem of her slippery mini-dress where so recently he'd nuzzled her red-thatched pussy. He tongued the blond's finger suggestively.
"What about something else?" lilted the redhead. "It seems a shame to be wasting him."
Tom suckled Mary's finger and willed her to opt for a licking. His time in the booths had given him super-human stamina.
"Have a go with the whip," chipped in Deidre, still sprawled on her bed. "You're always on about how men are mean to you, now you can be getting your own back."
Without releasing her finger, Tom swiveled his eyes up to look at Mary's reaction.
The blond set her pointed chin and nodded.
Brigit clapped her hands. "Restraints."
There was a whir from the ceiling and two black cords unwound either side of Tom.
He started to rise. Better another demerit than this.
Brigit put her hands on his bare shoulder. She stooped and fixed him with her green eyes. "Do this for Mary, and we can fuck," she said.
A shudder went down his spine. His hips gave an involuntary twitch, thrusting the dildo into thin air. It might not be the real thing, but if he fucked this beautiful leggy redhead with the prosthetic, then he'd remember it for the rest of his life. He nodded and licked his dry lips.
He stood there dumbly while they clicked cords to his wrist and ankle fetters. Then Brigit brushed a stray carrot-red lock from her forehead and clapped her hands. "Activate Restraints."
The cords retracted into the floor and ceiling, drawing him out into a taut X.
She looked down at him. Her freckled face creased into a grin. "You have no idea how silly you look."
He blushed, but couldn't think of anything to say.
Beyond the tall girl, Deidre wrapped a sheet around herself and padded over. His spread-eagled position let the plump girl look him straight in the eye. "They don’t look so impressive like this." She reached out a pudgy hand and tweaked his nipple.
The pleasure swirled out from the nub of flesh and electrified his entire chest. His buttocks clenched and he heard himself groan.
The three Hibernian girls giggled.
"How do you feel?" asked Mary.
"Turned on," he mumbled. "So turned on."
The blonde scowled. "I think you're supposed to be wracked with fear."
Brigit leant over her friend's shoulder. "I have an idea. Deidre? Why don't you be giving him his reward?"
"Reward? Oh..." She reached for her signet ring.
A chime sounded from the chastity cup. The material around the head of Tom's penis squirmed. He hunched over but couldn't quite see anything beyond the artificial penis. Even so, he knew that the slit had dilated, exposing the very tip of his real cock.
"Make way!" said Brigit. She knelt at his feet. Her long fingers reached out beyond the fake erection and cupped Tom's groin.
Mary all but exploded. "What in God's Name are you doing?"
The redhead laughed. "He'll not be so brave once he's had his climax." There was a new sensation inside Tom's chastity belt... no, not inside, but coming from the outside; the Hibernian girl's finger rubbing the very slit of his cock, threatening to drain away the warm bath of lust that kept him insulated from the shame, discomfort and pain.

More here...

Money off shipping for "The Chastity Belt"

Remember Casandra from my college chastity novel, "The Chastity Belt"?

I always rather imagined her as a young Julie Andrews. Some of the screencaps from the film Darling Lili capture that strangely stiff eroticism I had in mind. Also, that odd robust vulnerability.

Which reminds me, if you fancy a hard copy, then now's a good time to treat yourself. Enter "FREEMAILUK305", and you'll get £2.99 off the shipping cost.

Amazing nudes...

There's this photographer called Mearle, and he has a blog full of amazing nudes...

A slave's life...