Let me tell you a story...
A story about when everything sexual changed. It began as a harmless experiment, but the consequences were more than I had ever imagined. It all seemed so innocent, so pure, but in the end it became much more than that.
Back in college, I had known a particular girl, a girl named Holly. She was extremely cute in that obnoxious sort of way. She liked to wear short skirts, boots, tights, little corset tops, too much eye liner, and considered herself the most "alternative" person in any group of people. However, everyone tolerated her because she was, in fact, so friggin' cute. She could get away with anything. And it's this power that she used to get to me.
One day, out of the blue, she asked for me to meet her alone at a Village Inn near campus. Intrigued by the clandestine nature of her request, I happily met her after my morning classes were completed. She arrived as usual, in a short little pleated skirt with black tights and tall boots.
Unknown to anyone else, I had a huge fetish for tights/hosiery/pantyhose, so it was a little distracting hanging out with her alone sometimes. I had tried to tell her about my hosiery fetish several times, but always fell short of the truth, too embarrassed and too unwilling to put myself at risk. Anyway, let's move on with the story.
"So, I have I huge, huge, favor to ask you," she asked. Let's name her Laura.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" I asked, sipping my soda and pulling a couple books out of my backpack.
"Well, I need help with a special project I'm doing for my psychology class. I sort of need a volunteer victim for my most recent sexual study," she said, playing with the straw in her drink.
A sexual study? Hmm, I could like this...
"Well, okay, what sort of volunteering am I doing?"
Holly scrunched up her face in the cutest way a girl can, and started to explain her experiment to me. It sounded completely crazy.
"Basically, you'd be giving me complete control of your sex for one whole month. You'd need to keep a journal of the experience while I offer the objective observation. My theory is that the longer someone's ability for sexual release is suppressed, the more willing the subject is to do otherwise non-sexually related activities. Also, I don't think there's been an experiment like this done before, so you'd be the first and I might be the first undergrad to get published!"
I mulled over her proposal. Basically, agreeing not to masturbate for a month? Hmm, I could "agree" to this, especially if it meant more alone time with Holly.
"Alright, let's suppose I agree to be your male volunteer for this little study," I said, watching her closely. "What then?"
"Well, just a few little logistical things. You'd need to sign a waiver agreeing to my study, a waiver which also says you're volunteering to wear a chastity device during the study."
I nearly coughed up my water. A what?
"Excuse me? Did you say a chastity device?"
"Well yeah, you think I'm an idiot? Any guy can say he's not masturbating, but need some assurance. I researched it online and it shouldn't hurt. It might be uncomfortable if you get aroused, but it won't be painful. You'll just need to get used to it."
This was spiraling into some pretty unknown territory. Unknown to Holly, I was kinky guy into bondage, light pain, and a few other things, but wearing a chastity device? For a month? The idea sounded a bit scary.
"I will have the key the entire time. In fact, I'll even put it on my necklace so you can feel better about me being able to let you out in the event of an emergency."
"I just, I don't know. This is all a little much," I said, unsure what to say.