And here is part 2 of Mandatory Chastity University, this time with 100% more chastity, guaranteed. A few new characters will be introduced and in addition to chastity themes like CFNM with a group of women and light humiliation will also be touched on.
Both Part 1 and 2 are fairly slow-moving, almost real-time. In future parts there will be more time-skips, but I felt it was important to linger on this moment in particular because the mere act of being locked up is pretty central to chastity, that initial loss of control and the implications for a future where you are dependent on someone else for your personal sexual release. And I hope I could at least partially capture that and letting you feel like you're part of the ride.
I know a slow-moving story like this is not for everyone, and I appreciate those who feel comfortable with it. Enjoy accompanying Bryson in his chastity adventure.
- Lily
PT 2
The new university was on a sprawling, well maintained piece of land with so much greenery it looked more like a park. There were a variety of large multi-story buildings with pathways connecting them and in the center of it all a plaza with a simple but sizable fountain. Bryson parked in the lot outside the building that had a big banner dangling between two windows that read: 'WELCOME FRESHMEN!' Several signs saying 'Orientation' pointed to the open door.
They grabbed their bags and headed inside, finding a large room with multiple rows of chairs making up a waiting area as well as two desks with small lines queuing up separated by gender. They hugged and whispered a hurried goodbye and Bryson was very surprised when Imogen actually got up on her tip-toes and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving him flustered and grinning to himself. Not to mention throbbing in his own mess.
At the reception the female volunteer roughly about his age asked for his name and student number and then about the papers. He handed them over and was directed to take a seat on one of the chairs. It had been the right choice to come in so early. Only a few scattered people sat around, usually leaving personal space between them, some of them leafing through magazines or swiping through their phones. Every now and then names were called out and one of the waiting students got up and headed down a hallways where multiple doors numbered from 1 to 8 lined the walls on both sides.
He saw that Imogen had to wait a little longer with more girls already in line at this hour. Bryson smiled to himself as he wondered if she'd join him once she had been processed as well. The waiting time at least gave him the opportunity to discreetly lift his shirt and check out his crotch. Luckily the remnants of his load had seeped into his underwear and weren't plentiful enough to create a wet patch through his jeans. Good thing most of the cum had spilled onto Imogen's feet.
Just a minute later a young brunette woman, perhaps in her early 20s, wearing a pink shirt-dress ending just above her knees with a red cross on the left side of the chest and a name-tag reading 'Esme Rodrigo' came out from the hallway and had her eyes on a flip-chart.
"Clarke, Bryson?" she said loud enough to be audible in the entire room, looking up to see if someone stirred.
Bryson got to his feet and waved to the nurse, then exchanged a quick smile with Imogen who was still waiting in line. She gave him a thumbs-up and silently mouthed at him what looked like
'have fun!'
for whatever reason.
As he followed the nurse he noticed that she had sun-tanned skin and toned legs, though her feet were in simple white ballerina flats. He had to bite his lip as he caught himself staring. He tended to notice things like that a whole lot more ever since Imogen had suggested the massages as an erotic surrogate for sex with him.
They entered through a door and Bryson found himself in a room that looked a bit like an office but with some medical equipment on portable shelves lining the walls. There was even a fairly big contraption that reminded him of a dentist's chair, complete with a control pad to raise and lower it. The walls were furnished in wood and through the large window the morning sun flooded in, bathing the woman sitting behind the glass-desk in an ethereal light. The glass of the desk refracted the light and drew bright patterns throughout the room and onto the ceiling.
She was blonde and absolutely stunning, maybe in her mid thirties but very well put together and fit, her hair up in a stern bun with not a stray hair in sight, her lips decorated with matte, classically red lipstick that was sharply applied but otherwise subtle make-up. She wore business attire consisting of a white button-down long-sleeve shirt, a black, fitted vest above that which allowed for some cleavage to show, and a matching black pencil skirt with a slit in the side that showed off her legs, clad in professional, dark tights. Her feet, as he quickly noticed, were out of the heels that were laying toppled over beside them. The tights she wore were see-through enough for him to guess that her toe-nails were the same shade of red as her lips and fingernails. The pair of glasses with a thick black rim seemed to only enhance her severe beauty rather than detract from it.
"Bryson?" she asked, startling the boy out of an initial state of surprise to be faced with someone so appealing. But then he nodded and she gave him a placid smile before looking down to her papers and putting a check-mark on a list. "Perfect, you're early. My name is Doctor Strauss and this is nurse Esme. She will assist later on during the sign-up process."
The nurse had taken a seat on a simple chair by the medical equipment, crossing her legs and picking up a phone to scroll and swipe through it. Apparently this was all standard procedure to her.
Doctor Strauss nodded to the two chairs in front of her desk. "Please Mister Clarke, have a seat." she said invitingly though it seemed like she had said these words a great many times.
He followed her indication and sat down, nervously tugging on the hem of his plain t-shirt as the blonde ruffled through some papers. He recognized the forms he had gone through earlier today among them and guiltily chewed on his inner cheek, remembering that he massaged Imogen's feet rather than reading their content.
"Everything seems in order. You signed the waiver, the consent-forms and the temporary transfer of the power of attorney to the state." She looked up and gave him a warm smile. "So Mister Clarke, what exactly made you decide to volunteer for our trial program?"
Now Bryson started to sweat. He felt like the kid in class that didn't prepare anything and was supposed to give a report on a book. And what was that stuff about a power of attorney? What did he actually sign this morning? Imogen had been right. She was always right. He thought it was all just some standard document and not that he would be asked about it. Nervously he shifted around in his seat and then he tried to remember at least some bits of Imogen's politically minded monologues.
"Well..." he began, his voice sounding hollow and weak in his own head, "It's just something completely new, right? The college is new, the Milton Experiment is going on. I heard it's a completely new method of organizing a campus? And it feels like coming here to study will open many doors for me."
He took a breath and then added, being truthful and not coming up with some general drivel for the first time: "I also like that this place has been built in my hometown. I don't have to sleep in a dorm or pay rent. And I can also keep in touch with close friends of mine."
Apparently the shift of confidence in his words hadn't gone unnoticed and Doctor Strauss raised one brow, giving him an examining look over the rim of her glasses. "Would you say that the latter is your primary reason for joining this particular college, Bryson?"
