Thigh Bands
It has been nearly a month since my sentenced has been handed down by the judge. My freedom has been stripped away from me for the rest of my life for murdering my husband. I admit, I was a bad girl. Parties, drugs, affairs, I had it all. But that bastard was going to cut all that away from me. My allowance was going to be cut. The money would stop flowing to continue my lifestyle of excess and sin. I took a gamble killing him. It was either my pleasure or a life in the gutter. I was caught, my gamble didn’t work, and now I will be going to jail for the rest of my life. But if I had known they were going to transport me to this hell, this “Chastity Prison.” I would have never rolled the dice. Nothing is worse than this.
I’ve been wearing this strange chastity belt since being transported to Chastity Prison over a month ago. I have not any pleasure since then. Everyday it is the same. My urges build up in me, the desire to touch my most intimate of places. But, thanks to the chastity belt locked around my waist, I can never give myself the most blissful of reliefs. It is the most cruel torture, being denied this way. The days are long and dreadful with little to do and a lot to be “frustrated” about. Most of my time is spent in my cell, either reading, or occasionally getting harassed by one of the guards. But they haven’t taken my fighting spirit! Or so I thought…
In the dead of night, while most of my fellow belted inmates are sleeping and the guards are on a lull. I am slowly making a way for freedom. Not in the way of digging out a tunnel, or a full-fledged prison escape like you see in the movies. No. Escape was impossible here. Instead my freedom will be on the tip of my fingers as I try and get free from this belt. Each night, under the covers and under my prison-issued pants, I am slowly tugging, pulling, trying to break free from the grip of my metal panties that were forced on me by the state. I am so close! I can taste it! Feel it! I will finally be able to get my fingers down there… I heard a commotion and look up from my cell. It was the guards! They caught me red handed, tampering with my belt. I was quickly swept up and dragged out for an inspection.
Along with another fellow belted inmate, the guards took us to the inspection room, and promptly pulled down our prison trousers to check if we have been tampering with our special state property. I felt embarrassed as the guards tugged and ran their fingers on me. I tried my best to have a defiant look as the guards noticed the looseness of my chastity belt. The guard nearly brushed my pussy and it almost made me gasp. I was so close! If only I wouldn’t of got caught! Guilty of this crime, the guards ordered us to strip and placed handcuffs on me. The proceeded to drag me down to the dark room downstairs for what would clearly be a punishment. Cursing and fighting, the bastards managed to get me downstairs and bounded up by the wrists thanks to the handcuffs hanging suspended from the ceiling.
What happened next I couldn’t believe, they put these strange cuffs on my thighs! They were going to prevent me from spreading my legs and making sure I wouldn’t touch myself! I tried to fight off the guards. I was already sentenced to life in this hell, I had nothing to lose, but it was no use. The thigh cuffs were latched on me, and the chains locked on the belt. I could not believe they were doing this to me! Now I am forced to wear more restricting gear, just to prevent me from touching. The guards, snicking, left me there for the rest of the night bounded up by my wrists. I was left alone, with just my fighting spirit and the metal prison forced upon my body.
The guards woke me up to take me back to my cell. Already groggy and angry, I still showed the establishment that they would never take my attitude and spirit away from me as I snarled at the guard handcuffing me. “This is your life,” one of the bastard guards told me. That is hard accepting. How the rest of my life will be a pleasureless. sexless, abyss. Forced to wear the chastity belt forever and enduring the torments placed in this prison. I must have hope, even if this situation I am in is hopeless…
As the guards dragged me back to the cell, I still showed defiance. I am starting to think they like that I am fighting, like this is their sick game. I am thrown back into my cell, dark and cold as when I was dragged out of it, and the guards proceeded to unlock my cuffs. “Was it worth it?” One of the guards asks. I barked out, “Yes it was officer.” But was it worth it? I sat down in the cell, inspecting my new equipment. The belt was tighter than before, and the thigh cuff indeed, prevented me from spreading my legs. My hopes were dashed. Is it worth it to continue this fight? Or should I submit to this twisted system of denial? No, I have to fight! I have to! After all, I am a risk taker, that is why I killed my husband, to feed my need for pleasure. I will break free from my bonds!
I felt the familiar tingle in my womanhood as my hand instinctively went to the region, only to meet the harsh cold steel. All I could do was whimper. Was it worth it? The question still rang in my mind as I continued passively tugging on the metal jailers put upon me…
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The judge sentenced me to serve my term at “Chastity Prison.” I had no idea what it was, and thought it might be a cozy rehabilitation clinic. I was only half right. It is indeed, a twisted rehabilitation clinic, but there is nothing cozy about it’s methods. I can still remember hearing the click of the lock of my chastity belt and realizing why they call it Chastity Prison. The device around my waste prevents me from touching myself, one of the few things that makes my prison life bearable. Everyday I wake up, my fingers curl to my aching pussy, and each day, I am reminded of my very long fate.
Chastity Prison 
