Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

Permanent chastity is also not fun

Those who have been in chastity in a permanent setup for more than a few weeks probably related to this. The chastity belt is always there, in every moment. While it is exciting to read the captions you can find in tumblr and feel the constraint on the cage when you trying to get hard, or feeling the intense frustration when you are doing a massage to your owner...It is not so exciting in other moments. When you are locked in chastity as a lifestyle (not as a game you can stop at your will) there are many moments in the daily life which the cage feels a real burden: you have to wait more in toilets because you can not use the stand ones, riding a bike is not so comfortable, those tight pants you like you can not wear anymore, when you are on the beach and go swimming your cage is pretty visible,... While all of these things sound exciting, when they are part of your daily life and you can not scape from them can also feel overwhelming. My personal trick to overcome this feeling is using mantras like: "As male, I deserved to be locked in chastity", "All for Goddess Elise, none for me", "I orgasm when I please my owner", "I am locked in chastity because I am beta", "I am lock in chastity because I am a slave", "Chastity is her decision, not mine" These mantras (and some with a bit more degradation) help me to ground my mind into a submissive status in which accepting my situation at that moment became easier. Then I can continue doing the activity I was doing, still suffering from wearing the cage on that moment, but now with the reminder that there is great purpose behind it.

Bratty girls know you’re so addicted.

Missed court

My gut churned as the female police officer made her way out of the store toward her police vehicle. My throat was dry - I was more nervous than I’d ever been.

“Excuse me, Officer?” I managed with my suddenly-parched vocal cords.

She turned and smiled at me, very friendly and inviting. She was quite pretty, her police car was also visible in the background.

“What can I do for you sir?” She asked.

I was trembling. I was probably blushing with my nerves. “I need to ask a favor, Ma’am.”

“I’ll help if I can,” she told me.

“I was supposed to be in court yesterday for a traffic ticket and totally forgot about it,” I explained, still shaking. “Could you check to see if there is a warrant for me?”

“I can certainly help with that,” she said, still very friendly. “Please give me your identification.”

I handed her my driver’s license with trembling hands. She tucked it in her pocket and moved behind me.

“I need you to put your hands behind your back for me, sir,” she told me. “You’re awfully nervous and if there is a warrant, I don’t want you running. So I need to handcuff you and place you in my car while I run the warrant check.”

I suddenly wanted to run - what kind of mistake was I making here? - but I obeyed, and she handcuffed me, tightly, the clicks driving home that it was too late to turn back now.

She walked me to her car and placed me in the back seat. She didn’t close the door as she got out my driver’s license and raised her radio to her lips.

“Wait,” I said. “I don’t want you to check, Officer.”

“It’s too late for that, sir,” she said, still friendly. “You’ve done the right thing by checking for a warrant. I’m proud of you.”

She radioed my name and date of birth. I heard a female voice respond on the radio.

“Subject is wanted on a warrant for failure to appear.”

The female officer nodded. “10-4. Show me with one male in custody, en route to the jail.”

My heart sank. I wanted to cry. A crowd was gathering outside the store - witnesses to my humiliation.

“Step out for me, sir,” she said. I obeyed, and she placed me against the car. “Legs apart.”

I again obeyed. She searched me, a slow, methodical and comprehensive exploration of my clothing with her hands that was deeply humiliating. She then put me back in the car and belted me in place.

“It’s not the end of the world,” she told me. “I can see you’re regretting approaching me. But taking care of your warrant is the right thing to do. I know you don’t want to go to jail, but tomorrow a judge will see you and you can hopefully get this cleared up.”

She paused. “At this time it is my duty to inform you that you are now officially under arrest. I am taking you to jail. Do you have any questions?”

“No, Officer.”

She closed the door, and I watched her, miserable in the rear seat of her vehicle, walk around and get in the driver’s door. I was so ashamed, embarrassed, and humiliated, but it was too late for me now, I had turned myself in and been arrested by her, and was now her prisoner.

This might be a solution that prevents the gagged person to remove the tape gag.

yes 😍