Chastity Belt (3 page)

“Please,” she whispered. “Unlock me.” But even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that if he did unlock her, she’d be disappointed. This man—this stranger—was making her fantasy come true.

“I will. Tomorrow. I’ll meet you here at the club.”

Tomorrow? She couldn’t have this thing on her all night and day. Certainly not for a week, like he’d suggested earlier. Was he going to make her wear it again and again, until the week was up? She gasped, amazed that even after having been so thoroughly satiated by the gentlemen at the club, she was still turned-on.

“What if I have to pee?” she asked lamely.

“There’s little holes, see?” he said. “You just won’t be able to have sex or masturbate, that’s all.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” she said. It actually wasn’t uncomfortable at all, somehow.

“Too bad.”

“I’ll go to the police,” she lied. Her ex-boyfriend was on the job, so there was no way she could go down to the precinct and tell them what had happened.

“Go then. Tell them all about it,” Jonathan said with a grin.

Damn him.
How could he be so sure she wasn’t really going to go to the cops? He didn’t know about her ex. But he did know that she didn’t really want him to unlock her—because he had tricked her into giving her implicit permission.

Georgia let out a growl of frustration as she pulled her miniskirt up over the chastity belt.

“I’ll see you here tomorrow night,” Jonathan said.

Georgia stormed past him and walked out the office door, nearly running into Vincent on her way out. “Vincent,” she said. “Your client put a chastity belt on me.”

To her surprise, Vincent just laughed. “He really did it, huh?”

“What? Make him take it
off
.”

Vincent handed her five twenty-dollar bills. “Don’t worry about him, he’s a good guy. You put on quite the show, Sweet Georgia. Come back anytime.”

“Did you not hear me?” she asked, not even caring at this point if he thought she was rude. “Jonathan Syler has put a chastity belt on me and locked it and he won’t
un
lock it.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed. “I’ll make him take it off you if that’s what you really want.”

Georgia paused. “No,” she whispered, her cheeks getting hot. “That’s okay. I can handle him.”

Vincent laughed again and shook his head. “He always warned me he was going to do that—once he found the right girl.”

Georgia’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“I thought he was kidding,” Vincent continued, “since he’s been a client of GC for three years and has yet to find any woman he considered worthy enough to wear his chastity belt.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Georgia scowled. Jonathan chose that moment to step out of the office and waved as he passed by her on his way to the lounge.

“See you tomorrow, Georgia,” he said, and he winked, patting the pocket he’d slipped the key into.

This was ridiculous. He was actually going to do this—to make her go home wearing the chastity belt. In all of her fantasies, she had never really thought about the fact that being locked up meant just that—and she had no control over it. Moisture pooled between her legs and she bit back a smile. Even though she was miffed, she was way too tired to fight.

Fuck it. Georgia sighed. “Tomorrow then.”

* * * * *

Georgia woke up the following morning and looked over at the digital clock on her bedside table. Okay, afternoon. There was a moment of blissful amnesia where she forgot all about the night before, but it didn’t last long. She looked down at her waist. It was still there.

How on earth had she gotten herself into this situation? She really couldn’t go to the police. What was she supposed to do, walk right up to her ex and tell him that a tall, dark and handsome stranger had randomly decided that she was the woman who should wear his chastity belt? How could she tell him, or any of her ex-boyfriend’s cop cronies, exactly what she’d been doing when said stranger had locked up her pussy? Could she admit to them that before he put the chastity belt on her she had told him she thought the whole idea was totally hot?

She started laughing.
Laugh or cry
, she mused. And this was fucking hysterical. She stared closely at the lock that closed the metal band around her hips. Okay. She had seen people pick locks like this before, on TV at least. She got up and walked naked, except for the chastity belt, to her dresser top. A moment later she stood leaning against the dresser with a bobby pin in her hand, attempting to pick the lock.

Who was she kidding? She was no lock-picking burglar type. And now she had a more pressing problem. She had to pee.

Georgia quickly rubbed body lotion over her thighs and hips and tried halfheartedly to push the belt down her legs. That didn’t work, but she hadn’t expected it to anyway.

There were little holes all through the bottom of the belt that ran over her nether lips. She supposed that was a good thing, it would let her pee and also let air in. But how was she supposed to wipe? Georgia could scream in frustration. She never thought about the whole bathroom situation when she’d fantasized about chastity belts before. Fuck it. She went into the bathroom and sat over the toilet, watching in amusement as she peed through the damned chastity belt. Disgusting. How was this supposed to be a turn-on?

When she went back to GC tonight she was going to wait until Jonathan had unlocked her and then she was going to smack him silly. Why would a man that gorgeous need to get a woman to see him again in such a forcible manner? Because he was crazy as…as a man who would put a chastity belt on a woman.

They must be a good match, because she was crazy enough to let him. She sighed. Unbelievable.

Her cell phone rang and she picked it up and hit “answer” even though she didn’t recognize the number.

“Good morning, Georgia.” It was Jonathan—she’d recognize that deep baritone anywhere, especially after he had spoken to her while she was blindfolded.

“Good morning to you, you sick son of a bitch,” she said pleasantly.

“I hope your evening wasn’t ruined by the chastity belt,” he said.

“I had to pee with it on,” she said tonelessly.

“That’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m mainly concerned that you understand why you’re wearing it.”

Georgia sat back on her bed and sighed. Probably because she had told him that if he put one on her she’d like it. But there was no way she was going to admit that. “Because you’re a nutcase?”

Jonathan laughed and for some reason, she smiled. “Perhaps,” he said. “I wanted to make sure I’d get to see you again. And in the meantime, I want to make sure that you don’t have sex with anyone else and that you don’t masturbate.”

“Why would you care if I masturbated?”

“Because I want control over your orgasms. I loved watching you last night, your legs tied open with one man after another licking your pussy until you couldn’t take it anymore—and then watching you as they just kept on going. It turned me on.”

Georgia felt her pulse race at the mention of last night’s “performance” at the club. It had turned her on too. But hearing Jonathan talk about it was somehow even more of a turn-on. That voice of his… She could feel her pussy getting wet and she dropped her hand between her legs without even thinking about it.

And met with cold, hard stainless steel.

“Georgia,” he said. She pressed the phone closer to her ear as if that would bring him closer to her. “Tonight, I want to whip you onstage for the gentlemen. Will you allow me the honor?”

She had never been properly whipped before. Sure, she had played a bit with past boyfriends, but none of them even owned an actual whip, and if they did they certainly didn’t know how to wield it for her sexual pleasure. But to be whipped as part of a performance—should she do it?

“Yes,” she said. “But I want you to come over right now and take this chastity belt off of me.”

Would he do it? If he did, she wondered if he’d make her go back in it. Locked up for the full week… As terrifying as the idea was, she couldn’t help but admit to herself the idea excited her. Jonathan laughed again and she nearly threw the phone across the room. It was as if he could read her mind.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But how about this—you can come to me.”

Georgia sat up quickly. “Where are you?”

“At my apartment.” He gave her the address. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

“And then you’ll take this thing off of me, right?”

“Um, no.”

* * * * *

Georgia took the subway to the Upper West Side and double-checked Jonathan’s address before she walked through the subway exit.
What does he do for a living, anyway, to afford a place in this neighborhood?
His building even had a doorman. Georgia looked down at her simple sundress—the only outfit that would definitely cover up the fact she was wearing metal underwear—and sighed. She wished she could have spent the three hundred bucks she earned last night on a new wardrobe instead of bills and groceries.
C’est la vie.

She got onto the elevator and almost laughed when she realized she was going up to the penthouse.
Really, Mr. Jonathan Syler? Really?

The elevator opened directly into his foyer. And there he was, wearing designer jeans and a simple T-shirt that probably cost him a hundred dollars, looking devastatingly handsome and so annoying Georgia wanted to smack him.

“Nice place,” she said. She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Thanks.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek as if she didn’t despise him. “It’s good to see you again.”

Georgia laughed. “I’m only here for one reason. Get this thing off of me before I go to the police.”
That’s good
, she thought.
Almost sounds as if I mean it.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go in the bedroom, away from the windows.” She looked around at the large living room.
Wow.
Windows encased the entire room, offering an incredible view.

Georgia followed him, her gaze straying to the delectable ass hidden under those expensive jeans.

The bedroom had windows as well, but they were covered in drapes that hung to the plush carpet beneath her feet. There was a four-poster bed in the center of the room. Georgia looked at the bed and smiled. She could just picture all sorts of fun games they could play on a bed like that.

Focus, woman!
Just get him to unlock you and get out of here. Ugh.
Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been this turned-on since…well, ever.

Jonathan came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He dipped his head to her neck. Goose bumps covered her flesh as he licked her skin there for just a second before planting a little kiss under her earlobe.

“Jonathan,” she said, trying to scold him. He turned her around in his arms and kissed her lips, effectively silencing her. He tasted good—like toothpaste and an underlying taste of man. A bit salty.

She surprised herself by opening her lips to him, letting his tongue invade her mouth and then kissing him back with a ferocity that had her wondering just why she was so angry with him to begin with. She felt a tingle in her pussy as his hand caressed her breast over the thin cotton sundress she wore and she pressed her mound to his thigh, expecting to feel delicious pressure and instead felt…nothing. The metal chastity belt was keeping her from contact.

“Get this thing off of me,” she growled, dipping her tongue into his mouth, fully expecting him to unlock her immediately so that they could consummate their time together.

She pulled the cotton sundress over her shoulders and tossed it into a heap on the carpet and stood before him, naked except for the chastity belt. She thrust a hip in his direction, the unspoken plea on her lips.
Unlock me, unlock me.

Jonathan pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it onto the floor as well. She ran her fingers down his well-muscled chest. A scattering of dark crinkly hairs led a trail down below his belt and she let her fingers linger there, caressing the hair. He put his hand on her breast then, cupping it carefully before bringing his thumb up to her nipple, flicking it into hard erection.

With her nipples tight and sticking out like little pencil erasers, he brought his hot mouth down over one and nibbled it continuously until she was moaning with desire. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter as he twisted her other nipple, pulling and playing with her until she wanted nothing more than to get as close to him as physically possible. She wanted to ride him. She wanted to be ridden.

“Fuck me, Jonathan, please, please,” she moaned as he continued to tease her nipples, stringing a bright invisible line of pleasure directly between her breasts and her clit. He was like a musician, plucking and plucking that string for all it was worth.

“No,” he breathed, dipping his head to her breast and licking her once more. “No.”

She cried out in frustration and pushed his face away from her trembling body. “Damn it, Jonathan! Unlock me so we can finish what you started!”

He just smiled and shook his head. “You don’t really want me to unlock you, now do you.”