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I tried running away, but my father would stop me. Can you imagine being 17 years old, and going to school with steel pants and white gloves?
It wasn't so fun explaining the white gloves to people, and I prayed that no one would notice the chastity belt.
I had to wear dresses all the time I had always worn jeans. And then, on the worst day of my life, close to my 18th birthday, I came home to see my father panicking.
He lost the key to my chastity belt. There was no other copy. I was scared out of my mind when I heard about this.
I thought right then and there I would be stuck in this belt forever. I would never be able to experience sex again, have to have this uncomfortable piece of metal around my waste for the rest of my life.
They tried contacting the company that sold them the belt. They couldn't help. They called a locksmith, he couldn't help. They tried cutting it off, ended up hurting me a few times, nothing.
I was stuck. The last time I remember talking to them, they were apologetic about the belt and said they never intended for this to happen. I got in a huge argument with them and ran away.
That was the last time I ever saw them. I stayed with friends, moved out of state, got a job, and began living on my own.
But the first year or so of my life was pure horrific torture. I called every locksmith I could, went to specialists, no one can get this thing off me without hurting me.
Even after nine years, it's no closer to coming off than it was when I got it. And looking at my scared hands, even if they are covered with gloves, is always a reminder of when my life went down the drain.
However, I must admit, after the first couple years, it became easier to accept. It's second nature now. It takes discipline to wear this thing.
I have to be diligent about cleaning it, I have gotten using to peeing and defecating with it on. Menstruation is still never fun, but I've got a system.
I also have to stick to a strict diet. I gained a few pounds at one point and the belt became unbearably painful. It's okay now.
I have a huge collection of gloves that I wear all the time. Most of my friends and colleagues have never seen my hands, and I've managed to make a sort of game out of it.
There are times when it's not so easy. I haven't touched myself in nine years and I have horribly intense sexual cravings from time to time.
Anytime I've tried to get close to someone, I have to talk about this damn thing. Some are sympathetic, but most of my dates just end up running away.
There was a period where I considered ending my life, but luckily I never acted on it. My work and my friends keep me going.
I still wish it was off everyday. I want to be touched again. I want a family. God knows I'll never be able to have kids this way.
I want to have a normal life again. I must ask for his permission to do anything, to be humilliated all the time and doing anythig he tells me to do.
Right now, he is sitting besides me, forcing me to write this as punishment, and to humilliate me. The story begins before we got married, when we were dating.
I was a girl that really liked to sleep around with as many men as possible. I was in a bar with my friends when he showed up with a few of his friends.
They sat down at the table next to us and started talking. A few minutes later, we were all talking together and we became friends, a short time after that the thing started to get serious and we started dating as boyfriend and girlfriend.
While we were dating I always kept telling him that he was the man of my life, that I felt complete with him, that I couldn't imagine my life without him and other things like that that men like to hear from women.
It didn't really matter to me, I just said that to get them into bed for a good round of sex. Men usually perform better when women tell them that, and he did too.
I had sex with him, but as soon as we were done, I would go out and he always asked me where I was going. I always answered him that I was tired and that I wanted to go home, but it was a lie, I would take the car and drive up to another city, where I would pick up another man and have sex all night long.
Then, the next day, when I went to meet my boyfriend he would ask me what I've been doing all night, I usally lied about telling him that I just watched a movie and then went to sleep.
Days went by and he never suspected me, and I kept up my sleeping around with other men behind his back. After five years of being boyfriend and girlfriend, we were ready to tie the knot and get married.
Every weekend it was the same routine, I would leave him at home and go to another city to have sex with other men without him knowing it.
Finally, the day of our weeding arrived, it was a saturday morning and everything was ready, that day, he called me over the phone and he told me that he needed to talk to me about something in person.
I told him yes, and that I would meet him at his house. When I arrived, he told me. What is it? What do you mean?
I have seen what you did every day after one of our dates. I'm sorry. What do you mean by that? What I want for you is a promise, I want you to promise me that you will stop doing that after we got married.
Will you? Believe me that if you don't keep your promise, I will take some measures. So, the big event arrived and we got married, it all was very nice, we went to our honeymoon to Hawaii.
It was a very nice place, filled with very good looking surfer boys, they were so good looking that I would keep staring at them. When that happened, my husband would ask me if I remembered my promise.
The trip was just perfect, and then came married life. During the first months I kept my promise, I didn't even look at other men.
But the flesh is weak. It all started when I changed my job, my other job was too boring, it was always the same routine: 9 AM - Work at the liquor store.
Getting home to eat. But then, I got offered a job at a different place, to represent a big company, and that meant that I would travel all the time across the country, at the beggining nothing really happened because I hadn't realize it yet.
But then, I realized that he could never know where I was, or who I was with because I sometimes stayed in another city and slept there.
Where are you now? I would always find a guy that I found good looking and I would usally ask him back to my hotel room for a night of sex. This happened almost every single night.
But then, that day came. It all started when I met a guy at a city, well, actually he came on to me, we started to fool around a little bit, then he took me back to his place.
I called my husband and I lied to him, I told him that I would sleep at the hotel that night and go home the next day. I would just stay at his house to have sex, and in the mornings I would go off to work, nobody knew what was happening, and we did this for many days.
But then, one day.
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