The girl on the screen couldn't be any older then him. Everything about her appearance spoke of an all consuming awkwardness and lack of self confidence. Her dull black hair was fixed into a pair of braids by sets of yellow ribbons, falling all the way to the small of her back. Her freckled face was obscured by the unwieldy size of the black glasses frames on her face. And the turtleneck sweater she wore could easily be the ugliest color of brown anyone had ever made into a piece of clothing. He could hardly believe someone would wear that.
But, it was the way she held her eyes and the way she held her body, and the way she held herself that really made Eric's gaze focus. She reminded him of some of his...less savory activities on the internet. Her hands were frozen in a nervous wringing, forever captured in the video library. And her bright blue eyes were desperate and pleading, staring right into the low quality camera that Eric guessed must have been been mounted to the top of her computer. Eric's attention swung back to the door to the room with paranoia before he plugged his headphones into the jack on the computer. And then he pressed play.
"Hello....Master..." The girl mumbled in discomfort. Now that the video actually was playing, the weakness of her posture was even more evident. In her seat, she shook back and forth. Her hands hung to the side of what to do, and her head would occasionally jerk back and forth towards any of the room's entrances. "This is Slave Girl #22, and this is her hundred and eleventh day without being allowed to cum. Of course you know, Master, that this is....is only getting more difficult." Her rosy cheeks reddened to a brilliant tomato hue. Eric shifted postures in his chair and raised his hand to the small golden patch of hair on his chin.
The girl continued with a slight whimper, her chair rolled back when she started to stand up, giving the camera a view of her blue mini skirt for a moment, before she readjusted it towards her face. "When this girl asked to be belted, she..she assumed that in time it would get easier....That she would get used to it. But, whenever she doesn't expect it, the belt...it..it maker her feel how it wants her to feel. She can be in the bookstore or in class and it makes her collapse to her knees in need. it.. it owns her. It leaves her begging" her voice gained strength but didn't lose it's desperation, "and it leaves her gasping. Please, please, please, please Master. Girl #22 wants to cum sooooooo badly." Her hands purposefully snuck underneath her skirt trying to pry at the belt, but the scraping sounds informed Eric of how complete a failure it was. The girl's eyes closed shut and her voice creaked of caged need. "Please Master, This girl would do anythinggggggg to cum...."
And then out of nowhere a buzzing sound played through his headphones. The desperate girl's brilliant blue eyes shot open in desperation. Within seconds she had melted back into her chair, groaning over and over again and the top of her lungs. He couldn't see bellow her waist, but he could tell that her hips were rolling into the sensation with all the vigor in the world. Between her kitten like mewls, she would whisper over and over again "thank you, Master." And then as her breath was reaching a peak, and the sounds of passion had approached as loud as it would go, the unseen hand retracted it's gift. The buzzing stopped as suddenly as it began, leaving the girl desperately flailing in an attempt to just get a bit closer to the release that had eluded her for so long. She looked so close that he bet she could feel the beginning of an orgasm creeping up on her. But slowly, she stopped and sunk into her chair in defeat, her breath rising and falling in hopeless despair. After awhile she whispered towards the camera in a defeated mewl "This is Slave Girl #22, signing off for night one hundred and eleven. Eric could almost see tears welled up in her eyes. Then the screen went dark.
Eric glanced backwards towards the boxes hidden in the back of the closet. It seemed that petite little Daphne might just be hiding some things. Daphne was a girl in his grade. Quiet, shy, and rarely interacting with anyone at all. He'd never seen her with any friends, and certainty not with any boyfriends. This was the first time he'd ever been in her lavish dorm. Her parents had a fortune, so it let her buy a house all to herself on campus. Right now he was here doing a project. Or he would be if a certain someone hadn't been retreating to the bathroom every five minutes, sometimes for half an hour at a time. It gave him time to explore. Some porn magazines were hidden under her bed. Oddly both playboy and playgirl. He liked that kind of kinkyness in a girl. And in her closet he found what he was looking for. Mountains of boxes each hid one of the gleaming metal belts that Slave #22 had been wearing. His suspicions were correct. This was THE Key Master. Of course he knew who this was. Sarah was going to have a laughing riot when he told her about this.
Some limited probing brought him to a stats document. It was organized with all sort sof information that Daphne would need to keep track of. Eric read soundly over the page.
Seventy eight girls in total, twenty two of whom were currently under the lock and key of the program. At the max it could support thirty five. Two of the girls had been promoted to sort of assistants where they could help manage the stats of the others in her care. Of course, neither of the had access to the remotes controlling their own orgasm. The standard term was three months at the subject at the belt at a time, because after that the belt would need cleaning. But, many of the girls were repeat customers. A total of fifty seven of seventy eight had signed up for at least one more term. Of the currently belted girls, eight were repeat customers. Three had done it more then four times. Slave Girl #6 had done nine back to back terms.
The page also held stats on each girl's orgasm. As part of the request to The Key Master to be one of her Slave Girls, they would provide a log of orgasms for the past month. It was one of the way that Daphne kept the repeat girls under control between terms. Also, while the belt was active, she would occasionally let them go all the way. Sometimes as many as three times or four times in a term, sometimes not once. Eric figured that this was to keep them wondering if this time they would finally be allowed to cum. The occasional tissue on the floor reminded him that Daphne probabily new plenty about the topic.
Next he opened up the stat document on the belts she was using. It's link was right next to the dossier in the folder. She's apparently ordered them with her money. There were state of the art orgasm blockers. Steel much too strong too break down through safe means, shock absorbers to prevent stimulation by applying pressure. And powerful solar powered egg vibrators positioned perfectly above the victims clit But some of the other features were novel as well. There was a bit of equipment inside of the belt that could actively track how close a girl might be by a combination of moisture rate and blood flow. By using one baseline orgasm for comparison it could tell the controller how close a girl was. The material was lightweight enough and small enough that they could even be covered by the right set of panties. The expensive anti-rust and anti-germ sealants used made simple showering enough to keep the belts sanitary for a full 15 weeks, more then ten times as long as a normal chastity belt. Finally, the belts were wireless sending information to the internet, that would be picked up by a specialized AIM account.
Eric read over that section again. Slowly he rose from the computer, and looked around the room. Outside in the hallway, the door to the bathroom was still sealed shut. It was starting to bug him that Daphne had yet to come out. What as she doing in there? Slowly he sat back down into the chair and booted up her browser. If he was lucky, she would still be signed into AIM. He typed in the address into the search bar and crossed his fingers.
"Welcome back TheKeyMaster" was scrolled at the top of the page. For someone with enough anal retention to come up with a fool proof bdsm network, her security showed way too many signs of being scatter brained. The only thing different in this account was a button marked status next to the chat button. When he clicked it he was shown to a screen showing some bars associated with different girls, and a set of ten commands. Part of him wanted to experiment with these a lot, but he just left it at clicking the green button labeled "cum" near a graph marked #66. It made him imagine that somewhere, one of Daphne's girls was doubling over in pleasure. Eric smiled. He could get used to this.
Next Eris slid over to the chat menu. There was too many names on it to figure out who he'd want to have a conversation with. Instead he just opened up the most recent chat log.
Redeye: So I took some time to think it over
TheKeyMaster: Yes, girl?
Redeye: Well, I cannot deny that the way you put it's a bit...
TheKeyMaster: Arousing?
Redeye: Yes...that.
Eric raised his eyebrow. Thankfully he remembered there was a file marked pictures back in Daphne's folder on her computer. Inside there was indeed a picture marked red eye. It showed a pretty cute goth girl, with a piercing in her eyebrow and dyed crimson hair. After a second though, he scrolled through the picture library. The girls who had already agreed were labeled by number, rather then by handle. So scrolling through to one specific one was easy. The girl in the picture of #67 was in her late twenties, and kept her platinum blond hair in a loose ponytail. The picture was taken in a kitchen in a suburban house. Eric couldn't help but notice that in the background he could swear that there was a baby seat at the table. He stared at it a moment longer, licking his lips, before he reopened the chat log.
TheKeyMaster: So do you accept?
Redeye: I still don't know. I mean, I want to. But three months without being able to cum? Without being able to fuck?
TheKeyMaster: you have a whole life to fuck. Didn't you tell me how much you were into new experiences?
