Author's note:

As I've stated elsewhere, I'm in the process of collecting and consolidating stories I've written over the years (and attempting to fix up spelling mistakes and formatting errors). As always, my stories contain semi-consensual and non-consensual femdom stuff, so if that's not your kink, you'll probably want to read a different story (instead of sending me private messages griping about how you hate femdom tales).


It was Friday night, the Friday that started Spring Break, and, like a few of my hallmates, I'd started drinking as soon as my last class ended. I wasn't going anywhere for the week, and I'd have my room to myself the entire time. I was looking forward to hitting some of the parties that those who stuck around campus were going to be offering, and maybe even seeing some action.

My freshman year of college hadn't turned out to be everything I'd been hoping for. Sure, I'd learned to appreciate getting drunk (although that was already getting old, and I was still two years away from the legal drinking age), and I'd had a few short-term sexual relationships, but none of the girls I met were any more "sophisticated" or better in bed than the girls I knew in high school. Which didn't stop me from wanting to find someone to hook up with, but my second semester had been one big dry spell.

Still, since that first Friday of the break is traditionally not a night for frat parties, I got my early drunk out of the way, and crashed, planning on hitting the big Saturday Spring Break Stragglers parties and trying my luck.

One of the problems with passing out early is that you sometimes wake up early, too. I was snoring by 8, and awake again at three in the morning, as my bladder forced me to the bathroom. After doing my business, I found that I couldn't get back to sleep. None of the other folks on my hall (the ones who hadn't gone to Bermuda or Florida, at least) were awake, so I headed upstairs, to the girls' hall. There's nothing wrong with that, by the way, in case your image of college is something out of the '50s. Genders were split by floor, but anyone could enter any of the halls, and, in fact, we had to enter our dorm through the girls' hall upstairs.

That floor was just as quiet, but I noticed that one door at the end was open. It was Leigh and Lydia's room. Since I knew that Leigh had already hopped on a plane for the Keys, I figured it was Lydia who was awake.

Leigh was one of my first college crushes. A tall, leggy brunette, she was a sweet small-town girl from Massachusetts. Nothing had ever come of the crush -- she either didn't catch or didn't want to catch my signals, and I never really pushed things. Lydia, I didn't know as well. She was blonde, and shorter than her roommate (although she was still nearly as tall as I was), and about ten pounds or so overweight. She had a cute smile, and as the year had gone on (and I'd slowly started to shed my high-school notions of attractiveness), I'd come to appreciate how nicely she filled out her jeans. She'd joined a sorority, and we hadn't really hung out much in a while.

When I got to the door, there was no one there, but there was a suitcase on the floor, and someone was obviously packing. I was just about to head back downstairs, when I heard my name called. Lydia was just coming out of the communal bathroom in a bathrobe, having clearly just showered.

"Hey," she said, "I haven't seen you in ages!" She gave me a friendly hug as she headed into her room.

"Yeah, we've both been pretty busy," I said. "So, why are you up so late packing?"

"I'm heading to Florida with some of my sorority sisters, but the only flight I could get leaves at 6:00. Since I'll have to get to the airport at some ungodly hour, I figured I'd pack and just stay up all night." The three Diet Cokes on the nightstand indicated that she'd had a little help. "Wanna keep me company while I finish packing?"


I sat on the bed, and we chatted for a while as she packed up. I tried to be polite as she was packing, but I couldn't help noticing all of the sexy underwear and bathing suits she was packing. I also couldn't help seeing the occasional glimpse of cleavage or thigh through the terrycloth robe.

Finally, after another hour or so, she was done packing.

"So, what else should I do to keep myself awake?" She looked pointedly at me as she asked. Before I could even try to figure out if she was coming on to me, she closed the door, placed her knees to either side of me and kneeled, straddling my lap, on the bed.

I may have trouble with signals, but even I knew what to do now.

We spent a few minutes making out, while she ground her crotch into mine. I'd never been with a woman who ever wanted to have sex on top, and even this dry-humping, with her in control, was a new, and amazing, experience to me.

After a while, she nuzzled my neck and said, "in case you hadn't figured it out, I like to be in control.

I nodded, even as she removed the belt from her bathrobe. I don't think I fully grasped what she meant until after she'd taken my hands and tied them together with the belt. She then slowly laid me down on the bed, and again spent some serious time kissing me while grinding her crotch into me. I was deliriously turned on at this point, and afraid that I'd end up cumming in my jeans. I don't know when it happened, but sometime during all this, she managed to tie the loose end of the belt to the rail of the bed. I only noticed when she finally sat up and removed her robe.

Naked, Lydia was breathtaking. Those extra pounds added some heft to her breasts and thighs, but not to her stomach. I'd never been much of a breast man, but looking at her, I wanted to suck on those breasts all night long. After letting me admire her, she lowered herself towards me, letting me take each breast into my mouth and work my tongue around her nipples. With my hands tied down, she controlled the pace completely, sometimes shoving her breasts so far down that I was effectively gagged, sometimes pulling back so I had to strain to lick her nipple. Although she was no longer grinding into my crotch, I was still very turned on. I have no idea how long we spent like that, but she eventually pulled back and turned around.

Looking over her shoulder at me, she said, "now, too many other college guys I know don't place a woman's pleasure first. Can you make sure I get taken care of?" I'd never been the greatest at making sure a woman reached orgasm first -- although I'd traded oral sex a few times, I usually got to receive it before I gave it. But I knew I wanted Lydia to make me come, so I said, "yes."

She grinned. "Good." She lifted her robe and lowered herself onto me. Once I was eating her, she dropped the edge of the robe, so I couldn't see anything beyond her skin and the cotton of the robe. As I ate away at her, she opened my pants, and would periodically suck and kiss my penis, keeping me hard but never spending too long attending to me. Every time she pulled away, I got frustrated, but she kept at it. I know I brought her to at least three or four orgasms, but I soon lost count.

After one that nearly had her screaming (I wondered, briefly, how many other folks were still around the dorm), she collapsed, sliding down my chest. I figured that she was then going to suck me off, but she then slid back up and shifted, placing her anus right over my mouth as she reached back and grabbed my head.

I attempted to protest, but she wasn't having any of that. She sat down right over my mouth and said, in a voice that made it perfectly clear that I had one chance to answer, "I said that you've got to pleasure me first, and this is a part of pleasuring me. If you don't like it, just tell me that you want out, and I'll untie you, but I won't touch your penis again if you do! Now, do you want me to untie you?"

As she sat up enough to answer, I realized that my dick was still hard. It had already answered for me. I'd always thought that bondage was way too kinky for me, let alone what we were about to do, but I wanted to feel Lydia's lips around my penis again, and said, "no."

"Good," she said. "Now put that tongue to work!"

I did my best, and found that I soon enjoyed it. Especially as Lydia started to pay more attention to my penis as I continued to bring her to orgasm. Finally, after an eternity, she shifted her weight off my face, and stated concentrating on my penis exclusively. Her tongue and lips felt wonderful, and within minutes, I finally got my release, as she sucked me to orgasm and I exploded in her mouth.

As I lay there recovering, she shifted around again, sliding her pussy down to grind against my penis (which was now super-sensitive, post-orgasm). As I gasped, she leaned down and kissed me, and as her tongue entered me, I felt my own cum forced into my mouth. I tried to pull away, but she'd grasped my head in her hands, and only pulled her mouth away when she's spat every drop into my mouth. She pulled back only far enough to mutter, "if I can drink it, so can you." She then held my nose shut until I'd swallowed it all, and planted a sticky kiss on my lips.

Even as this was happening, I felt my body rebelling, as my penis, only half-flacid to begin with, stiffened up again. Lydia felt it, of course, and adjusted herself, sliding back onto me. As I tried to say something, she held her fingers to my lips, and simply rode me, while all I could do was watch her breasts bounce. I lasted a lot longer this time, and after she'd had two orgasms, she slid off.

"Lydia, what are you doing?" I was desperate for release, even as she slid panties on below her robe and then got dressed.

"Well, if I finish you off again, how will I know you'll be waiting for me when I get back from Spring Break?"

"Are you kidding? This has been the best night of my life! Of course I'll stick around!"

As she finished getting dressed, she eyed me. "Hmm. Do you swear you'll still be around for me after Spring Break, and you won't fool around with anyone else?"

Mind you, I hadn't thought I was making that sort of commitment here, but I was willing to wait, and said so.

"Okay," she said. And she kneeled by the bed, fully dressed, and went down on me again. She sucked me off in no time, and this time, it was clear that she swallowed my semen herself. She then grabbed something from under the bed, and I felt something cold against my crotch, followed by a click.

As she stood up, I looked down and saw that she'd put some sort of device on me.

"Hey, what's this?"

"Oh, don't worry too much about it. It's just a little insurance to make sure you stick around this week. Surely you've heard of chastity belts before?" As she said this, she grabbed her keys and suitcase and headed out the door. "See you next Friday," she said, as the door closed behind her.

By the time I got off the bed (I had to practically summersault before I could get into a position to untie my hands), got my pants on, and ran outside, her car had long pulled away into the rising sun, and I had no idea what I was going to do.

Part 2. The next day

I woke up with the sun in my eyes. My first thought was that it had been a dream. But as soon as I reached down to feel my crotch, I realized that it was real.

After Lydia had left, I examined the chastity belt she'd placed on me. All I knew about chastity belts was that knights in the Middle Ages used to put them on their wives to keep them loyal. I didn't know they even made them for guys. But this was clearly designed for a man.

The belt itself was leather, but clearly had metal inside it. Cutting it off was not an option. It had a lock that was secure in the back. As for the part wrapped around my penis, it was a metal tube that curved downwards. There were small holes spaced through it, about the size of a small screw. I'd figured out this morning that this was so I could piss. When I sat down, my urine ran out through the holes. Some splattered on my penis, but since there were holes in the top, as well, I was able to clean up in the shower. However, no matter how I tried, I couldn't actually touch my penis, and the angle of the tube kept my penis from getting hard.

And that was the most frustrating part. Lydia had forced me to do things that I'd never thought about before, and I had never, ever, had orgasms as intense as the ones I'd had last night. I knew that even masturbating about it this morning would be more enjoyable than many of my "real" sexual experiences had been. As I thought about it, I felt the stirrings as my dick began to harden, only to encounter the tube. This got me more frustrated, which only served to focus my thoughts on Lydia even more. I spent all day Saturday trying my best not to think about the belt, and failed miserably.

Sunday wasn't as bad. I had some studying to do during the break, and I found that I was able to concentrate for as much as an hour at a time before I remembered the belt. I still felt it, but it wasn't constantly on my mind. That said, I certainly had trouble getting to sleep that night.

Monday was horrible. Since hitting puberty, I'd never gone more than one day without an orgasm. If I didn't have a partner, I had least had the chance to masturbate. Now, I hadn't gotten off since Friday night (well, practically Saturday morning), and while my body was telling me how horny I was, my penis couldn't do anything about it. I tried just about everything to get the belt off, including just outright smashing the lock into a wall a few times, but no luck at all. I knew that if I really needed to, I could probably get it removed at a hospital, but the last thing I wanted was anyone else seeing this. Thank goodness it didn't show through loose or baggy pants!

Bad as Monday was, Tuesday showed that it could always get worse. I headed to the library to get some studying done, to try to distract myself, but on the way I ran into Jen. Jen's another girl on Lydia's hall, and one of her sorority sisters as well. Jen had a classic Midwestern look, with straight blonde hair (much lighter than Lydia's), and a lean runner's body. We were friends and took a couple of classes together, but since she always seemed to have a boyfriend, I never thought about asking for anything more. Jen normally wore conservative clothing. Nothing horrible, but generally nothing sexier than jeans and a slightly loose top.

Today, she was wearing spandex tights and a spandex halter top. The tights emphasized her amazing legs and ass, and it was all I could do not to just outright stare. Although her breasts weren't that great, the top showed her flat stomach perfectly. To top everything off, she had painted her nails crimson red, something that surprised me, since she normally never went for that sort of thing.

"Hi, Adam! What are you up to?" She smiled at me, and I noticed how the lip gloss she'd used made her lips look extra moist.

"Oh, just heading to the library to catch up on some reading. How about you?" She pointed at her clothes (allowing me to look at how tightly the spandex hugged her body again), and said, "the gym. Gotta get my morning workout before the Straggler's Ball!"

So that's why she painted her nails! The Straggler's Ball was The Big Party for those folks who didn't go away. She was planning on really dolling herself up.

"I'll see you there, right?" Crap. The last thing I wanted to do was go to the ball. With the chastity belt on, there was simply no way I wanted to be hanging out at a party, with my chances of hooking up with anyone reduced from slim to none.

"Well, I was thinking of skipping it. I'm just so far behind."

Jen pouted. "C'mon, Adam. You can take a night off. It's Spring Break! I'd be so disappointed if I didn't' have at least one friend at the party."

"I'll think about it."

"Please do!" With that, she headed off towards the gym, giving me an amazing view of her ass struggling against the material of her workout clothes. I now spent the rest of the attempting to study as my thoughts bounced between Jen and Lydia.

Tuesday night was horrible. I wanted to go to the Ball, both to see Jen and to actually do something social, but just the thought of going reminded me of my predicament. In the end, I just gave up and settled in for another long night. I couldn't wait until Friday, when I'd finally get some release.

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