Danielles Story Pt 07

"Ms. Marcan, I can't begin to convey how pleased I am to see you. It's been months!" Mr. Young gave Danielle a once over. "You can disrobe," he told her as he pulled up a wheeled stool and took a seat to examine her devices at eye-level.

"Always such a pleasure," Danielle muttered with stunted enthusiasm. Her clothing and shoes ended up in a neat pile and she stepped up to a raised platform which allowed Mr. Young to remain at eye-level with her crotch. Danielle hated standing before him wearing next to nothing, and she was sure that Mr. Young did this to her for the express purpose of making her feel vulnerable.

"The laser hair removal seems to be taking nicely," he commented, peering around the edges of the belt as he prodded with his fingers, testing the fit in case she gained or lost weight that would affect the efficacy of the belt's seal against her skin. "You must be at least 4 or 5 sessions in."

Danielle nodded her head. Free laser hair removal isn't a good reason to get yourself locked up, but she figured at the very least it was a nice perk that she'd have for life. Mr. Young stood up from the stool and retrieved a robe and a device that Danielle could best liken to a personal pillory. It was a wide board of polished wood with a larger hole in the center for her neck, and two smaller ones at either end for her wrists. He helped her into the robe and secured the board around her neck and wrists. Her hands were forced up over her shoulders but she couldn't even scratch her nose. "Isn't this overkill, Mr. Young? I have not attempted to touch myself in your presence even once."

"I could put you back in the stirrups for some movie time," he offered cheerfully. She sneered at him and he removed her belt and bra to soak in a cleaning solution. "In the interests of transparency, I should tell you that I've been spending time with Jennifer Brown. I wouldn't mention it at all, but since she is your co-defendant, I want to assure you that my friendship with Jennifer will not impact how I handle you."

Danielle froze. "Are you dating Jennifer? Oh my goodness! Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

Mr. Young waved his hand dismissively. "Dating is not out of the question for the future, but for now, Jennifer and I are just friends. I'm also not assigned to her case and I don't have a key to her belt. I got department approval to fraternize with her. There's a formal process and I went through all of the proper channels." After a moment of silence, he added, "I know quite a bit more about you now, Ms. Marcan."

The color drained from Danielle's face as she tried desperately to decode that last statement.

What did he mean by that? Was there an underlying tone of malice?

Danielle fixed her expression into one of calm acceptance. She smiled and gave a curt nod of her head. "I hope you two have a positive friendship, and I hope you're taking her version of events where I am concerned with a grain of salt. I screwed up by borrowing her insurance, but I've otherwise been a loyal friend."

Mr. Young went to his rack of spare parts and pulled a pair of rings from the shelves near the pink chastity cage that likely taunted some man each time he came in for adjustments. "These have been waiting for you," he told her, shaking them in his hand. At his workstation, he began fastening the thigh bands together with a composite cord, and then he attached the bands to her belt.

He put on a latex glove and brought the modified belt over to Danielle. He squeezed a clear, thick glob of ointment onto his gloved finger. "Come here," he told her.

Danielle glared at his gloved hand. "What's that for?"

"It's some antibacterial stuff. It's good for you. Come here," he reiterated firmly.

Danielle stepped forward and Mr. Young smeared the generous dollop of ointment on her pussy, pushing it into her folds and onto her clit. With practiced ease, he helped her step into the thigh bands and pulled the belt up, fastening it around her waist and attaching the thigh bands. He gripped her slippery, coated labia and drew her lips through the crotch plate and placed the clear shield back into its housing clips. The rear cord that pushed against her back hole felt tighter.

From beneath the safety and security of her shield, Danielle's pussy grew hot and agitated. "Antibacterial stuff?" she asked as a flush crossed her face. The ointment was causing her pussy to heat up rapidly. It wasn't exactly a burning sensation, but the urge to rub herself became strong. Her fingers instinctively flew down to her shield to touch her engorged lips the moment Mr. Young released her wrists from the pillory. "Please, Mr. Young, you have to clean this stuff off of me!"

"I will not clean that off of you. I mean for it to be right where it is. I advised you of the skin irritation. You might struggle for a few hours, and the effects may even linger for a few days, but in my judgment the pros of the antibacterial properties outweigh the cons of some minor skin irritation. I have to warn you that it will be difficult to wash the ointment off with just soapy water since you won't be able to get a cloth in there to scrub it away."

This was not antibacterial ointment, Danielle concluded as her face flushed. Her pussy had never felt tighter and her need to orgasm was suddenly the most urgent thing on her mind; the urge to touch was amplified. She tried to side step and get a hand between her legs, but the full impact of the thigh bands became immediately apparent. She was unable to widen her legs enough to allow her fingers access to the shield where it jammed up against her pelvis. She wouldn't be able to reach beneath it anyway, but now she couldn't even rub the junction where her legs met her body. Her expression registered horror as realization dawned. She was going to be in a state of abject horniness for days without even the slightest relief.

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When she was dressed, Mr. Young escorted her to the hallway and closed the door. She knocked several times to be let back in, but Mr. Young did not respond.

"Carrying on isn't going to change your punishment, Danielle," came the voice of Officer Grant.

She turned to face him in the corridor. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"I hope it's a pleasant surprise," Grant replied as he stepped up alongside her. "I had a meeting that coincided with your appointment. I thought I'd take you home."

Danielle's face brightened in spite of the intense need the ointment was causing. She could almost forget the thigh bands and the sensation between her legs, just seeing Officer Grant's handsome face. "Thank you," she said softly.

As he walked with her toward the parking garage, the constriction of her gait was evident immediately. She tried to widen her legs to walk at a more natural pace, but her legs were jerked to a stop with each step. They were held together even closer than she expected.

"You'll have to walk more slowly," Grant told her as he held her upper arm to stabilize her as she learned to walk with a shortened stride.

She frowned. "Is this the

standard

width for the connecting cable?"

"It very likely is. Joe Young is not the type to risk his job picking on an offender."

When they got to his SUV, Danielle discovered very quickly that she was unable to climb up into the passenger seat with her legs connected as they were. Anticipating her hardship, Grant scooped her up and deposited her onto the bucket seat. "Thanks," she said sheepishly as they drove off.

"How about a burger before I take you home?" he offered. Danielle readily agreed and they pulled into a diner, where they sat together in a booth and ordered cheeseburgers. Grant raised an eyebrow when Danielle's squirming became increasingly noticeable.

"What's wrong?" He asked her.

"It's this cream Mr. Young put on me."

Grant lifted an eyebrow, surveying his charge. "Did it come from an orange tube?"

She nodded her head and Grant sprung into action quickly, standing up from the booth. The waitress confirmed that there was a family restroom he could take her to 'help her with a wardrobe malfunction,' and Grant escorted Danielle to the back of the restaurant.

She lifted her skirt for him and he could see through the clear shield that her lips were puffy and red. How much of this stuff did Joe put on her? Grant wondered. With his magnetic key in hand, he removed the shield and belt, resting it on the floor atop some paper towels to keep it clean. He instructed Danielle to tuck the hem of her skirt into the waistband and to put her hands on her head while he worked. Her lips were pushed open and Grant found that her entire pussy and clit had been coated liberally in capsaicin ointment. "He got you good with this stuff," Grant muttered as he ran some paper towels under the faucet. "Did you upset him?"

"My presence upsets Mr. Young."

Grant carefully wiped her engorged pussy lips while Danielle moaned and quivered with each stroke of the paper towel. The heightened arousal she was experiencing was hard for him not to notice, and as she squirmed under his hand, he felt his cock stir. He wanted nothing more than to give her an orgasm, but that was not how things worked between them, and he knew better than to try it. He was her monitor, after all, and he had an obligation to enforce her punishment.

Danielle couldn't help herself. Feeling Officer Grant's strong hands on her sensitized lips and clit was enough to drive her over the edge. It didn't help that the situation mirrored a fantasy that continued to haunt her dreams. The washroom at the diner was less elegant than the one at the fancy restaurant in her imagination, but this was at least real. Danielle knew not to reach down between her legs; under no circumstances was she to touch herself when the belt was off without Grant's direct permission. But she didn't need to touch. He was doing all the work for her.

Her orgasm mounted quickly with the help of the ointment's agitation, and she crumpled as it tore through her. He quickly wrapped an arm around her back, and held her as she rode out the orgasm with his fingers still jammed up against her clit. She wondered why he didn't yank his hand away from her and stop her orgasm, but she was midway through ecstasy and she wasn't going to let anything stop her now. Her body trembled in Officer Grant's arms as her climax peaked and then died down, leaving her limp in his embrace, panting and softly twitching as the muscles in her pussy continued to contract.

Grant was stunned. In all his years as a monitor, he'd never caused one of his charges to orgasm. He wanted to believe it was an accident; that he hadn't been paying close enough attention to her cues, but that wasn't the truth. He'd paid very close attention. He knew she was near, and a little part of him wanted to bring her to climax. He wanted to be the one to give her an orgasm, and he wanted to provide that pleasure to her and make her dependent on him for her needs. He wasn't even sorry he'd allowed it to happen. He was thrilled by her release.

"I'm so sorry!" Danielle said, practically in tears as she regained her footing and Grant let go of her. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Danielle. It was the ointment. I know you'd never have deliberately allowed that to happen. You're a good girl, and you follow the rules." Grant gripped Danielle's chin and tipped her face upward to look into her eyes. "This was not your fault," he said firmly to her. "It was my job to have prevented this."

They enjoyed their lunch and Grant continued to reassure Danielle that she was not in trouble. After he dropped her off at her apartment, he drove home, deep in thought. Providing her an orgasm felt so good to him. It was natural, and he wished so much that the aftershocks of her bliss could have been more pleasurable for both of them, rather than being marred for her with feelings of guilt. One thing was certain, though: things were going to have to change with Danielle. He could not continue denying his feelings for her.

=====

"So you promise you don't have the key to it?" Jennifer asked Joe Young when they'd returned to her house after dinner and a movie -- an event they absolutely did not refer to as a date. They were permitted to date according to the release forms that were granted to Joe, but they maintained they were just friends. Friends with benefits, but

friends

first and foremost. The idea of a relationship appealed to Joe on the surface, but he wondered how that would work with two dominants in a dynamic. Jennifer fantasized about the two of them dominating Danielle, but he had to put the brakes on that thought process right away. It was out of the question.

"I am at your mercy," Joe told her. It wasn't completely truthful, but he did not have a physical key to the device he wore. His phone could open it just fine. As if he would allow another person to lock his cock up for real.

Jennifer grinned from ear to ear and she bit her lower lip in eager anticipation. "And you've been locked up since this morning?"

Joe nodded his head and Jennifer was drawn to his cock like a fly to honey. She unzipped his pants to reveal the navy blue cage she'd requested that he create. "What does it feel like to be confined? To be throbbing against the composite with no hope for release until some benevolent soul grants it to you?"

He was aware that this was her outlet for revenge against the D.O.C. for locking her up. Jennifer wanted to be in charge, and Joe was content to let her believe that she was. There was no way that he'd actually let her control the lock on a device he wore, but submissive fantasies were fun and he could enjoy himself so long as he was not actually submitting.

"How do I feel? I can't wait for you to take this thing off me so I can sink myself deep inside of you." He dipped his hands beneath the waistband of Jennifer's leggings and dragged the garment down, rubbing his finger along the crotch plate. Her pussy lips were jammed up against the vented metal, and he knew she could feel some of his touch. It was a poor design that he'd never stand for in any belt that carried his craftsman's stamp.

They played around and teased each other and Jennifer dangled the key to his cage out the window, over the toilet, and then threatened to drop it in the mailbox. He played his part and acted horrified with each threat she made, and he begged her to unlock him.

When it was finally time, his cock was released from its confines and it sprung to life. Jennifer positioned herself on the bed on all fours. As part of the incentives that her monitor developed for her, Jennifer could have her rear bar removed once a week for some private time with Joe. Two chains crossed over her ass cheeks securing the crotch plate to the back of the waistband, leaving her asshole perfectly accessible to him.

Joe had to admire the incentive that her monitor devised because if the name of the game was keeping offenders aroused, and denied, Jennifer's punishment was well designed. She had yet to successfully have an orgasm, and being left high and dry from her failure to achieve climax furthered her monitor's goal of punishing Jennifer with sexual frustration. Still, Joe would have preferred for her to get a release at least some of the time, and he hoped for her benefit that tonight would be the night. Joe's fingers stroked the metal shield and Jennifer moaned with delight as he drizzled lubricant on her rosebud. Slipping fingers in and out of her pucker, he inserted the viscous liquid to enable his safe entry. "Fuck, I'm so hard for you," he told her.

"I wish you could take my pussy!"

"Uh uh, Jennifer. You were bad. And where do bad girls get fucked?"

"In the ass," she said with a note of irritation.

"That's right." He pushed himself inside and exhaled deeply as he settled into the tightness of her most humbling passage. She was filled to the brim with him and moaned her pleasure. She only accepted the humiliation of being taken in this way because she was so desperate for relief.

Joe held her hips firm as he thrust into her, pumping with force and after a few moments, Jennifer hollered out, "It's going to happen this time! I'm going to cum!"

Her orgasm began to climb and to both of their excitement, she spilled over the edge and screamed out as her body climaxed with her first anal orgasm. Joe parted her ass cheeks and dutifully thrusted into her deeper, until her orgasm had crescendoed. It was then that he permitted himself to release his own climax. Ropes of cum spilled into her bowels and with a few final thrusts, he was emptied. He withdrew slowly and left her on the bed with a gaping hole which he filled with a large plug. "Keep it there until the morning. I want my little swimmers with you overnight."

He slapped her ass, thanked her for the evening, and left her with the cock cage. There would be a play session in their future where she was bound to enjoy using it on him again.

=====

They'd been on her for less than a week, and Danielle hated the thigh bands even more than she had anticipated. It was difficult to get in and out of vehicles, climb stairs, or even get herself out of bed. It surprised her to discover how often she spread her legs wider than four inches in the course of her daily life. Grant took no pity on her and responded sternly to her pleas for him to rescind the punishment.

Her office attire had grown increasingly frumpy as new elements were added to the belt, making the profile of the device more noticeable. She had gone from slinky pencil skirts and fitted tops to looser skirts, and now longer skirts to conceal the hated thigh bands. The cord connecting her legs was made of a softer material that caused no sound as she walked.

Just before lunch Danielle's office phone rang. To her surprise, her former best friend and co-defendant Jennifer Brown was downstairs in the office lobby, asking for Danielle. "Really?" Danielle asked the receptionist on the phone. "I'll be right down," she said before hanging up the receiver and making her way slowly to the elevator. Her gait was awkward with the thigh bands restricting her stride, and she was limited to mincing steps.

Others passed her by in the hallway quickly as she teetered on her heels. She adopted the high heels after the thigh bands were applied, explaining to co-workers that she was learning how to walk in them because she wanted to wear them to a wedding at the end of the month. A female co-worker gave Danielle a supportive touch to her back, encouraging her to keep up the good work with the shoes, saying she'd be dancing the night away in stilettos in no time. Danielle panicked for a moment as she felt the hand rubbing on her back. Could she feel the mesh of the back of her bra? It was very thin, meant to be concealed, and it wasn't rigid.

The thought of being caught caused her pussy to flood, she had to admit to herself. The sweet humiliation of being found wearing all of this gear was entirely too erotic for her not to react to. Her coworkers would know she'd broken the law, and that she is now subject to the will of a strict monitor who keeps her sexuality locked up.

Danielle shook the thought away as the elevator dinged and she stepped into the lobby to face Jennifer. Danielle smiled at her, hopeful that the chance to make amends were on the horizon. Jennifer offered a weak smile in return.

"Let's go for a walk," Jennifer said, leading Danielle out the door and onto a sidewalk.

Danielle couldn't help but notice that Jennifer could wear jeans, and aside from a blazer to hide the bulk of her waistband, she looked perfectly normal. Jennifer's breasts looked soft and natural in her bra, and not permanently fixed in one position by hardened composite as Danielle's were. She had been told by other women in the program that she should be grateful that nipples weren't added to the bra she wore, drawing even more attention to her awkward chest that prevented her from hugging people, lest they feel the cups poking them.