The release was nice, but two hours later I wanted more. The fact that a day later I would wear the same panties I was worshipping made me associate sexual desire with them. It was torturous. I didn’t know if I could last a whole week, but I guess I had to. Over the course of several weeks, I believe Miss Samantha overheard my overtures toward Brittany when I caressed the panties. Seizing upon that desire, one day she had a surprise for me.
“I was over at Brittany’s house, and I asked her mother if I could borrow these.”
In her hand, she held a pair of Brittany’s panties and her bra.
My eyes lit up like Christmas.
“Yes, I thought you’d like them.”
She fitted the pillow with the bra and placed the panties on top as usual. I was immediately drawn to them. After my oath, I couldn’t wait to get close to them. I kissed them again and again, and was lost in my own little world.
“Oh Brittany, you’re looking so beautiful today. Can I kiss you, how can I make you happy? Your hair is so pretty. Oh Brittany, oh Brittany.”
I was like a ravenous animal. I was licking them and unconsciously started humping away at them with wild abandon.
“Audrey, I did not give you permission!”
But it was too late. I had spent myself, and lay in the glowing aftermath. I was quickly brought back to reality feeling the sting of a spanking from Miss Samantha on my bottom.
“What did I say? You’ve lost your privileges for two weeks. And from now on, you’re keeping your chastity tube on until it’s time for permission.”
“Yes Miss Samantha. I’m sorry.”
I was even sorrier that I was not going to be able to touch those panties again for two weeks. That made each school day difficult. Being around girls all day, I must have gotten an erection at least ten times a day. Coupled with the restraint of my chastity tube, it was a daily pain I had to get used to.
The good thing about wearing the tube was that I no longer had to take gym. That was something I couldn’t just hide under a pair of panties. Since Miss Samantha knew the principal, she wrote me a note with an excuse. Instead of gym, I now had to take a home economy course where I learned how to cook meals, decorate a home, and raise babies. I think I would have rather been in gym.
This was a time when a lot of girls’ bodies were changing. They went from being lean to developing hips and breasts. Luckily for me, each girl was different, so there wasn’t any suspicion on my part. Some girls were still as flat as a pancake; some girls had a really awkward face or neck. I have to admit, I was a little jealous when the girls with breasts would comment with pity that I would fill in any day.
I noticed that I wasn’t as supple as when I was younger, but the changes did not make me stand out too much as a boy.
A lot of the boys started to get more of a chiseled, angular look to their face and bodies, but my changes weren’t so dramatic. My arms were thin, my chest was lean, and my face stayed round. I did start to sport hair in different places, and had to learn to shave it off. Luckily it wasn’t too much hair, and I kind of liked shaving my legs.
After I was shaved, my hair was fixed, and I applied makeup, I would look in the mirror. I knew I looked better than a lot of the girls at school, and that’s all I really needed to achieve my goal of fitting in and not being discovered. Each day I saw a lot of girls who did not know about makeup, and there were a few of the athletic types with the long bodies and hard faces. Their Adam’s apples were bigger than mine. It’s funny, while most of the other boys in class were looking around the classroom thinking about which girl was the prettiest (I know because that’s what I was doing too) I was also thinking about who I was prettier than.
Like I said, the thing that really struck me the most was that girls came in all shapes and sizes. There was no way you could just pick out one aspect and say, “That belongs to a girl.” Some had big eyes, some had flat chests, and with my makeup and the many lessons I had walking in heels and coordinating an outfit, I didn’t stand out in the least.
There was one problem, however, and that was boys. Because I had nice hair and clothes, I did attract some admirers, and I had to figure a way to gently repel them. I used a number of excuses, but I started to get the reputation that I was a cold fish.
The girls would talk to me, and tell me that so-and-so liked me, but I would tell them that I had chores to do that night or that my aunt didn’t approve of me dating anyone. I got a lot of looks of disbelief and I’m sure I was the conversation of a lot of gossip, but that was fine with me.
I liked Brittany, and after Miss Samantha explained to her sister that it was safe for us to hang out again I was allowed to hang around her. One night when we were visiting, we went to go in the basement. It started off casually, but eventually Brittany’s mind turned to something else.
“Remember when we used to kiss down here?”
“Wouldn’t it be funny if we did that again?”
I was torn. Here’s the girl that I fantasized about each time I was allowed release, yet I knew if I started kissing her in my chastity tube, I would be in a lot of pain and frustration.
To her question, I just answered with a vague, “yeah…” and she took that as an affirmation.
We started kissing on the couch while the TV played in the background. Immediately my cock tried to spring to life but was held mercilessly down in its prison.
“Ungh,” I grunted.
I wanted to be doing this. I wanted nothing else, but the torture was killing me. There was a double-edged sword of pleasure and pain. Brittany pulled back and there was a look of intensity in her eyes. She stroked my hair and her hand ran down the puffed sleeves of my dress and down my arm. She lunged back in for more kisses. My eyes were closed, but suddenly opened when I felt her hand gliding up my thigh.
“Brittany, no,” she pushed my hand away and continued, “Brittany, no,” but she was determined.
She pushed up the skirt of my dress and it gathered at my waist. I tried to pull it down, but she mounted me and pushed me back with her body and kisses.
Her palm started gliding up my thigh and I tried to close my legs together tighter. When her palm glided over my panties, she felt the rigid chastity tube that was beneath them. Confused, she stopped and looked at me.
“What is this?” she patted it several times.
I was embarrassed.
“Nothing,” I tried to get up.
“Un uh, you’re not going anywhere. What is this?”
Realizing that she would probably never cease until she knew, I decided to tell her.
“It’s something your Aunt Samantha makes me wear, so I’m not tempted to…you know.”
“Really?” there was a look of confusion and fascination, “Let me see!”
She started tugging away at my panties and I defended my privacy vigorously. As much as I struggled, the thin material of my panties wasn’t enough to cover her constant tugging. When she pulled them down, she sat and stared at my encased cock. I must have blushed beet red.
“So you’re in there and can’t get out?”
“Yes,” I said apologetically.
“Oh look, and there’s a little lock. That’s so cute!” she flicked the lock back and forth.
“No it’s not,” I said getting angry.
“Relax, I won’t tell anyone. Do you want to see what I got underneath?” she pulled down her shorts to reveal her white bikini panties, “I don’t have a lock on mine.”
My eyes must have bugged out of my head, because I forgot my shame, and we started kissing again. Brittany guided my hand to her vagina and started rubbing it up and down. Hot and ready, her breathing became deeper. She slipped the panties down her legs revealing her pussy. I couldn’t believe what I was looking at for a second, and I just stared. Brittany, however, had other plans for me, and pushed my head toward her pussy. I was a bit stumped for a second, but she commanded, “Lick it!”
I gave it several kisses as she squirmed with delight.
“Lick it, yes that’s it. Lick the outside…right there…now stick your tongue inside…Ohh yes.”
She writhed in ecstasy thrusting her pussy in my face. It was hot and wet and I felt it all over the front of my face.
“That’s it, right there…don’t stop…”
He mouth formed an “O” and her back arched, and she came several times, then she fell back into the couch. I felt good that I had shared this moment with her. I kissed her thighs and moved up toward her face, only to be met with one last, exhausted command.
“Go wash your face.”
When I came back, she moved aside so I could hold her on the couch. We finished watching the movie, and I thought I was in love.