Straight Laced Ch. 02

Tom took the lock's keys and placed them on his key ring.

"Okay sweetie, there you go. I'm sorry, but I have to leave for the airport now."

"I know. Thank you," Rachel said with genuine emotion.

Tom walked to the door, picking up his bags and holding Rachel tight for one last embrace. She stood at the threshold watching him as he walked out, placed his bags in the trunk, and drove out the driveway.

Unlike the easy comfort of the laces, the cable took some getting used to. Even when she had tied herself up with leather laces as tightly as possible, they still naturally conformed to her body. The braided steel refused to submit, rigidly forming Rachel's pussy to its own will. And she could feel the ever-present lock, lightly touching her thighs as she walked or sat, although thankfully it had naturally rotated itself parallel to her legs which was much more comfortable. She was delighted—her imprisonment had been just as nasty as she had hoped.

For her dinner alone, she had prepared herself a small spaghetti dinner with a big glass of cabernet. After she cleaned the dishes, she poured herself another glass of wine, and sipped that while she caught up on her reading. Not too many chapters went by before she needed to relieve herself.

She knew this part would be tough. She was glad that her period wasn't due while Tom was gone. In fact, if it were, she probably wouldn't have gone whole hog for the plan. Although she was going to get to avoid messing with tampons, she couldn't avoid peeing.

She retrieved her small piece of plastic tubing. She took it over to the stove, turned on the flame, and waved it over the flame, both to sterilize it and to slightly melt the sharp cut ends. She went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, grabbing a tube of antibiotic ointment. She hitched up her skirt, and squatted on the seat. This was the hard part, and her need to pee was starting to get more urgent. Rachel had no desire to get a urinary tract infection; she couldn't even imagine the complete embarrassment she would suffer if she had to see a doctor like this! So she inserted the piece of plastic tubing in the ointment, making sure it was completely smeared with the stuff. Plus, she had no lubricant inthatopening; she needed all the grease she could to insert it.

With her home-made catheter in hand, Rachel slid it between a small gap in her tightly stitched labia, probing around for her urinary opening. She normally didn't need to know where it was, so she was completely unpracticed. She was also operating blind, unable to see underneath her tightly stitched lips, and it took her several tries to find it. Finally she had the tip of her tubing sitting right at the entrance to her pee hole. She gently pushed, and it overcame the resistance and slid in. Although the tubing was wider than her hole, it was lubricated enough to enter, stretching the opening to accommodate. She didn't want pee everywhere, so she slid it in at least a half-inch before stopping.

Her homemade catheter stung a little, but she held it, like a clear wire penis, aiming down into the bowl. She relaxed enough to let go, and the yellow stream raced down the tube into the water. She did it—she was peeing! She was glad she didn't have to pee through her cable-locked lips, which she knew would not only be a mess, but impossible to dry.

Rachel had a sudden thought. She pinched off the flow and stood up, turning to face the toilet like a man. She lifted the seat, and released her grip on the tubing, letting the urine flow resume. She had always wondered what it was like to pee standing up! After her success, she removed the catheter, using a square of toilet paper to mop up the excess antibiotic ointment, and cleaned off her new urinary accessory. She took the tubing and the ointment and placed it in purse just in case.

She got ready for bed that night. Normally, she would have unlaced herself so that she was free. Not tonight. She crawled into bed naked, running her fingertips across her pussy, feeling the plastic coated cable, the metal eyelets, the brass lock. Her cunt had become its own cage. For the third time today, she was aroused by the mix of metal woven into her skin. She couldn't reach her clit, and it was too tight to place her finger inside. So she placed her hand over her whole interlaced mound. She rubbed and shook herself, trying to move her clit. The cable was tight and it did lie against her clit compressing it, but even shaking her hand on her pussy vigorously wasn't enough stimulation. Eventually she gave up, reaching over to turn off the light.

It took her a long time to fall asleep, tossing and turning, feeling the tight cable in her labia and the dangling lock underneath, knowing she couldn't escape until Tom's return.

Rachel slapped the alarm clock in the morning to give herself those precious night extra minutes. But she couldn't drift back to sleep. She felt her sewed-shut cunt in between her legs before she confirmed it with her fingers. She thought of Tom, and smiled. She got up, and before the snooze could go off again turned off the alarm. She turned on the shower, and brushed her teeth while it warmed. She didn't want to mess with the catheter this early, so she let her morning relief run squirt out between her labia, making several randomly pointing jets warmly running down her leg and into the drain, instantly diluted by the hot comforting water spraying over her. She never peed in the shower—that was a man thing—but the expediency of doing it this morning made it acceptable, even preferable, to the alternative.

Post-shower, she went about her day. She missed Tom. She could feel the stiff self-made chastity belt when she walked, when she shifted her body, when she sat, and it provided a constant reminder of him. The weight of the lock pulled down on her pussy with everything she did.

Tom called her each night he was gone, letting her know how the show was going. She relished the sound of his voice, knowing that each one was one day closer to his return.

She got better with the catheter, finding it faster to prepare and insert. Her urethra still stung from the unfamiliar stretching, but it too was something she was getting used to. She had stopped at the drug store to get an extra tube of antibiotics to stock in the medicine cabinet. She saved the tube insertion process for when she was out and about or when she didn't want to get wet, because despite her initial revulsion against going in the shower, she found it much easier. It felt cleaner when she was done, placing the shower wand directly over her pussy, letting the steamy hot water spray through her crevices after she pissed. Plus the shower head let her get close, near-orgasmically cleaning her, although lacking full access it was never quite being able to bring her over the top.

She lived her days with never-ending stimulation to her pussy by the rigid cable. Despite that, the lack of direct touch to her clit left her frustrated by her inability to masturbate herself. Her imagination raged full of lust, waiting for Tom's return. The imprisonment was her idea, but she had no idea how it would have affected her mentally. Her chastity wasn't meant to be real since she had no concept of actually cheating: it was the pure bliss of being stitched shut completely outside of her control that she'd wanted. Yet what she hadn't counted on was her inability to pleasure herself. Her unsatiated lust was growing day-by-day.

On the sixth day it was Tom's day back. He called her while the plane was on the tarmac, asking if she wanted to pick something up for dinner on the way back from the airport. She suggested Thai, and called in an order for him to pick up. While he was on the way back, Rachel readied herself. She was about to be free from her prison. She hadn't gotten laid or been able to beat herself since Tom had gone, and she was eager to end her drought. She stripped completely naked and awaited his return.

Tom came in and dropped his luggage, the first thing greeting his eyes was his Rachel standing there nude. She strode up, taking the stapled bag of Thai food and walking it straight to the fridge.

"That is hot food, you know. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, but not for food," Rachel purred. "I've been a good girl. A very good girl," she added.

"Really. Prove it," Tom said with a smile.

Rachel immediately dropped to her haunches before him, and unzipped his fly. She fished around for his cock, managing to wrest it free before it had become too hard; it was hardening underneath her fingers. She pulled the band of his underwear underneath his balls, pulling them out of the zipper too. She opened her mouth wide and deftly sucked him in.

His cock in her mouth brought a comforting feeling, and she drank in the familiar scent of his body. She sucked him furiously, milking his balls with one hand and pumping his shaft with the other. Tom looked down at her, his nude woman sitting on her heels before him, his cock disappearing down her throat as she strove to bring him off. It was a beautiful sight.

It wasn't long before her expert performance had the desired effect. He grasped her shoulders and became tense, and she knew it was coming. All of the sudden he came, and she clasped her lips around him tightly as spurt after spurt of his cum filled her mouth. She could tell that he hadn't been masturbating while he was away—there was much more volume than normal, his spurts threatening to escape her lips. His hot cum splashed onto her tongue, and she kept it there, letting it fill her mouth as she made little murmuring sounds of approval. She relished the taste—salty, slightly bitter, but familiar and all hers.

Finally his spasms ended, his body slumping becoming slack, using her body to support him. She pressed her thumb into the base of his cock, and ran it along his urethra emptying every precious drop of his semen into her hungry mouth. She withdrew him, keeping her lips carefully sealed around his cock to ensure none would spill. She looked up and him and opened her mouth wide, showing him her creamy reward, the white froth coating her tongue. She swallowed and licked her lips.

"Time to get you out of that chastity cable," Tom said with some enthusiasm.

Rachel lay back on the bed, and Tom pulled the keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the brass lock hanging between her legs, and removed it from the cable loops. He then started gently tugging each short segment of cable through its respective eyelet, freeing her labia one hole at a time. It was hard to maneuver the stiff cable, but he did it without needing the pliers—after six days bent in the same way it had conformed to her pussy as much as her pussy had conformed to it. He reached the top holes, and with some difficulty maneuvered the remainder of the cable through, finally freeing her pussy. Tom removed the cable and examined it: it had a series of permanent alternating kinks in it an inch or so apart from each other where Tom had bent it with the pliers to fit Rachel's pussy.

Rachel sighed with relief, reaching down and spreading her compressed pussy wide. Tom's erection hadn't gone down from her blowjob, and he removed his pants completely, easing into her. Having just come, he knew could last a long time even though he was very excited, so he took his time fucking her. However, she hadn't gotten laid in days, and she couldn't wait. She vigorously rubbed her clit while he entered her, letting him fuck the bottom while she fucked the top. Sensing her urgency, he sped up, stroking her breasts and tugging at her nipple rings to maximize her stimulation.

Being assaulted on all fronts, with Tom's cock deep inside her, his hands on her breasts, and her hand on her own clit, Rachel couldn't hold back. She came, shouting as the pleasure crested over her, achieving release after a week of struggling to get off her captive pussy. Tom still was wearing his shirt, which he stripped off to fall on top of her. He tried to continue rotating his hips, slowly stroking inside her, to let her build up to another peak. She wrapped her legs around his ass and held him to her.

"Please stay still. Once was enough. I just want to feel you inside me."

"Okay," Tom agreed. He just wanted to make sure she was fulfilled.

They lay together, Tom supporting his body so she wasn't crushed, but still covering Rachel with his warmth.

Rachel whispered in his ear, "You didn't beat it while you were gone, did you?"

"No—how did you know?"

"You filled my mouth more than usual. It was sexy!"

"Wow. I figured that you'd have a hard time of it being caged up like that, so I wanted to be empathetic. I figured that if you couldn't masturbate, neither should I."

"Thank you."

"Are you sorry that I caged you?" Tom asked with some concern.

"No." Then in a husky whisper, "I loved it. I might always be in danger of being a bad girl while you're gone, you know."

"I do now!" Tom laughed.

Rachel snuggled into his chest. "Was the show good?"
"I sold three of my most expensive pieces, and a dozen or so of the little ones. And I've got two couples who want something even bigger on commission."

"Great!"

"Yeah, it was hard to be away from you, but I'm really glad I went," Tom admitted. "Are you hungry?" he asked.

"I guess I am!" Rachel realized.

"I'll go nuke the Thai food." Tom tossed his dress clothes into the hamper, and changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Rachel lay naked, watching him dress. "You coming?"

"I'll be down in a minute lover," Rachel purred.

Tom left the room, headed towards the kitchen.

Rachel stretched her body, her arms as wide as her yawn. She got up and put on a golden plaid skirt and a pretty matching yellow blouse. She reached under the bed, taking her shoebox, and dropped in the kinked cable, sliding it back out of sight. She headed towards the door and hesitated.

She felt naked.

She paused for several moments, and then went back to the bed. She thought to herself, "I've just spent a week in non-stop confinement, didn't I?" She reached under to get the shoebox out again. She held it in her hands, rotating it to listen to the laces softly raining against the sides as she turned. She made her decision. Deliberately, she lifted the lid, and pawed through the contents. She pinched a thin white ribbon and lifted it out, replacing the shoebox lid, and thoughtfully placed it back under the bed. She bent over, hitched up her skirt, and between her legs she threaded it with a quick fluid rhythm. She left the ribbon slack, more slack than normal. To top it off, she tied a big loose bow.

She dropped her skirt, and smiled to herself, a little wicked smile. "NowI'm not naked." Rachel confidently strode out of the room towards the smell of dinner, playfully flicking off the light.