Laura is back in the lab

Michael took care of the paperwork. Legal agreements were signed. Within three weeks, we got the keys to the disused plant where we found everything in place We hired former colleagues and we set out to produce Deep Chastity Patches. As a reminder, they could only be installed using electronic putty for precise measurements.

From her experience with prosthetics, Rachel created a color matching scheme, by adding different dyes to the 3D printer. There was a smooth cover, matching the color of your skin, with only a small pee-hole down the middle. There was no crack to be seen, only tiny grooves to drain perspiration and provide ventilation.

We also added an antifungal powder to the Kevlar and a mild inhibitor of hair growth. An exfoliant gave us a feeling of cleanliness when wearing the chastity patch.

When we tested with paid volunteers, we explained to them that the Kevlar fibers take three days to grow into the clitoris. After that, the spontaneous electricity produced by the piezo-electric crystals gave them small pleasant discharges. They said they liked it, not just for the money we paid them.

Find the best spots deep inside

We wanted to make the Chastity Patch even more pleasant to wear. A bit of stimulation will help sell our product. But all things in moderation, because we women don’t like to be manipulated.

I knew about the electric properties of the Kevlar, so it occurred to me that most of the electricity generated by the piezo-electric crystals was going to waste. Kevlar discharged in all directions. We could prevent that by alternating insulator layers with tiny metallic wires. Our 3D printers were quite good at placing small amounts of substances at precise locations. We also added electronics to control the currents.

At one end of the circuit, we guided the tiny electrical discharges towards the clitoris. At the other end, the current was going to certain parts of the vagina. We extended the chastity intruder with a bunch of flexible fibers covered in spurs, to reach the G-spot and the fornix. Each spur was controlled separately by the electronics. Each had sensors and could deliver a current.

When a small spark went into the clitoris, the spurs inside the vagina detected the current coming out at the other end of the clitoral body. Having recognized the inner end of the clitoral body, the electronics started to send more current that way. The electronics were learning the best locations deep inside.  As a result, G-spot, A-spot, P-spot were stimulated, wherever they could be found.

Grow the neural pathway

Small electric discharges were nice, but Rachel suggested an extra twist. She knew about the treatment of accident victims, where nerve growth could be stimulated by a low-frequency signal at 30Hz.

“Our signal will be a thousand times weaker than the one used in hospitals. If it’s effective at all, then it will take a few months to make a difference,” she said. It was worth trying, without any downside risk.

Jim took up the challenge with the frequency and he programmed the circuits to resonate at 30Hz. I tested the result, and all I could say was: “Delicious.” Rachel was also delighted. You feel more feminine when your A-spot is mildly stimulated deep inside, all the way from your clitoris. It was left to be seen whether our clit-to-vag nerves will get strengthened over time.

We particularly appreciated the fact that the stimulation wasn’t permanent. When you sat at the desk focusing on a business issue, your pussy was quiet, with just a rare hint of making its presence felt. When you moved around, then your pussy also became active, responding in pleasurable ways. If you got aroused, then your crotch was pushing hard against the Kevlar patch, generating tiny sparks that went straight where you liked it most. Whatever the situation, the stimulation felt as if coming from your own body.

Most women cherished their own independence, but at the same time, they loved the feeling of their pussies being owned by their men.

Third-party agreements

We realized we were not able to produce all the attachments our customers demanded. On the other hand, established manufacturers were keen to build interfaces to our chastity patch. We signed agreements with them. In exchange for royalties, we allowed their products to interact with our chastity patch, in mechanical or electronic form.

A tampon manufacturer came up with a pad that could be latched to any cover and fine absorbent fibers. Other manufacturers used WiFi or Bluetooth to participate in the locking game.

Mound Plate

I wish it was us who first thought about the Mound Plate. In reality, the idea came from customers, and we just adopted it.

The Mound Plate sits further up from your clit and plays a role in giving you pleasure or punishment. It also makes your underbelly look better.  That’s all you need to know, but if you are interested in the details, here they are:

The Mound Plate is flat, half the size of a credit card, and is following your body. The side which makes contact with your skin is made of the same Kevlar as the Chastity Patch. The fibers penetrate the skin and inhibit the growth of your pubic hair.

The Mound Plate is positioned to be in electrical contact with the Chastity Patch further down. When the Chastity Patch is removed, the Mound Plate stays in place, allowing full access to clit and vagina.

The Mound Plate is not normally removed, but it’s flexible and doesn’t interfere with any moves. Women like it because it enhances their appearance by replacing their bush. Not to mention the pleasures it can give them.

On the top surface, the Mound Plate has a shining smooth plate that is full of sensors, similar to the touchscreens of mobile phones. The sensors transmit impulses to the Chastity Patch which distributes the signals to the wearer’s sensitive parts. Each pixel on the Mound Place is mapped to a point on your clit or inside your vagina.

Through the sensors, the Mound Plate replicates the feeling of a finger playing on your clit, but it goes deeper than that. The Kevlar fibers of the chastity patch grow inside the clitoris, stimulating more than just the surface. We estimated we could reach three to five times more nerve endings in the clitoris than your boyfriend could reach with his finger.  

The Mound Plate also provides the signals for the spurs deep inside the vagina. It supplies more power, since it has batteries, unlike the Chastity Patch. The adaptive electronics of the Chastity Patch redirect the signal from the Mound Plate to your most pleasurable inner parts.

Customer testimonies

Wearers of Chastity Patch were automatically enrolled in discussion forums, where they got peer support. They were hanging out in groups like, “eighteen and unfucked,” or “forty and asking for it.” I gathered some of their postings, trying to arrange them in a logical order. By most opinions, stimulation through the Mound Plate was better than foreplay. But listen to the customers themselves.

This is not all self-congratulation from our firm, Pussytech Inc. Two of our storytellers, Anette and Danielle relate how they defeated our Chastity products.  Nelly is the first to speak about using a Mound Plate, and Juliette takes the process to perfection. Anette tells her story with shades of Bdsm and Comedy, but an electronics engineer has reviewed her text and assures us it is technically accurate.

Anette:  a long morning in the attic window  

After I turned sixteen, I was caught masturbating at school. My parents were notified, and they forced me to wear a Chastity Patch. The first two days were horrible. I felt violated in my dignity. But other girls have gone through this, and it was a rite of passage, like wearing braces (which I also had to do). By the third day, the chastity patch became more comfortable. After a week I really liked it and I understood why the other girls raved about it. It covered both my vagina and my clit, so I couldn’t masturbate anymore.

The chastity patch was giving me all sorts of new sensations as if I was growing again. This kept me preoccupied for a while, but in the third month of chastity, I threw a big tantrum to my parents. I was raging from sexual frustration. My parents realized it was cruel and unnatural to keep my pussy locked, but they didn’t want me to masturbate again at school. It didn’t help that one of the girls in my class got pregnant and she nominated eight possible dads.

My parents said they would rather allow me to have sex at home, instead of doing it in parks or parties. They checked the Pussytech catalog online and bought the Home Sex Kit, to give me freedom at home and only at home.

A few days later, I found a small WiFi box nailed to the wall of my bedroom. On my desk, there was a stainless-steel collar which I was supposed to lock on my neck. Nearby, there was a printed piece of paper with the user guide of the Home Sex Kit. It explained that I could take off either the collar or the Chastity Patch, but not both at the same time. Furthermore, I could only unlock my pussy when I was in the range of WiFi. If I left my room without the Chastity Patch locked on my pussy, the collar would give me an electrical shock.

In hindsight, I should have been revolted for being treated like a farm animal. But after three months of no play, I was ready to do anything to get myself unlocked. I also appreciated that my parents accepted my need to masturbate. It was wrong to do it at school, but it was OK to do it in my bedroom.

I felt relaxed and I put on the collar. The user guide explained that the collar activates a new feature in the Chastity app on my mobile. Indeed, a button marked Swap appeared as soon as the collar was on my neck. When I tapped it, the collar locked around my neck and I could not take it off. Instead, my Chastity Patch got unlocked from my pussy. I was free to play with myself!

I masturbated all night. Between sessions, I explored in the darkness how far the WiFi would let me go while my pussy was unlocked.  My bedroom was upstairs and had a small balcony. I could stand on the balcony, obviously naked, except for the collar which wouldn’t come off. I could go to the bathroom on the upper floor. But when I walked towards the stairs, the collar gave me an unpleasant shock. Seconds later, another shock made me run back to my room.

Having learned my limits, I masturbated again. The next morning, I woke up happy and relieved. Before going down for breakfast, I made sure to lock myself into the chastity patch. It gave me a warm familiar feeling. Next, I could take off the collar. At school, I stayed locked all day. In the evening, I put on the collar in my room, to unlock my pussy for the night.

I settled into this new pattern, alternating between day and night. It was a happy period when I was discovering new things. My pussy might have been controlled, but my internet was not. Suffice to say that one of the teenage girls masturbating on video could have been me. I found a new purpose for my hairbrush, and that brought me 54,000 likes. With a bit more clothes on, I made half-naked selfies which compared favorably with photos sent by other girls. Boys took notice of me, but for a while, none of them had the courage to come to my home and face my parents.

In the end, the guys figured out what to do. First, Ben stayed in my room till late at night. My panties came off and I learned all about foreplay. Two months later, it was Ivan with whom I first had intercourse. Greg turned out to do it better. In short, I had a normal sex life, despite being alternatively locked in the chastity patch and the disciplinary collar. Somehow, I also gained the appreciation of my parents.

The devices worked flawlessly together for years, passing control among them. There was only one small hiccup when my older brother came home for vacation. He saw my collar through the door of my room. In my absence, he picked it up, examined it, then put it on the first spot he could find in my room. I came home, and I panicked when I couldn’t find my collar where I left it. Without the collar, I could not take off my chastity patch, not even in my room. It took only five minutes to find it, but his innocent move made me more careful.

Apparently, Pussytech received similar complaints about collars which got lost or misplaced. They promised to come up with something better. 

After this incident, I started to wear my collar at school. Other girls had collars too, and we all knew what it meant. Somehow, we ended up as a select group. We were not reduced to quickie sex in parks and parties. We could bring our guy home and we could fuck all night in the comfort of our beds. Our parents accepted us as sexual beings and they even spent money to create an environment for us. We had better lives, we were more developed, smarter, and sexier. The guys we picked up were cleaner, well-groomed and well-adjusted, having to show up in front of parents.

None of us girls found a way to get out of the Home Sex Kit, while we were still under parental control. We all dreamed about the forbidden fruit of doing it outside.

Around the age of seventeen, I revisited the dolls I had in my childhood. They were stored in the attic of a disused barn in our courtyard. The entrance to the barn was blocked, but I could enter the attic through a window. I had to walk first over the branch of a tree. When I was little, I spent a lot of time in the attic. Looking out sideways from the attic window, I could see my own bedroom on the left. Towards the right, immediately below the attic, there was a footpath on the street.  The attic was high, so when I stepped back from the window, no one could see me. This used to be a perfect hiding place.

As I went through this childhood memory, I spotted the WiFi of my Home Sex Kit. The collar was on my neck, as always. While leaning out of the window and checked the status in the Chastity app on my mobile. To my surprise, it said: “in range of Home WiFi, Unlock permitted.” The signal from the left was coming sideways to the collar on my neck.

I pulled in my head into the attic. The status changed immediately to: “out of range of Home WiFi, unlock not permitted.” I tried this a few times and it always worked outside. Then I stepped out of the window to walk over the branch of the tree, and I descended into the courtyard. No signal there, so I would have gotten zapped on my neck if I was unlocked while being on the ground.

I really wanted to try sex with a guy outside the home. Greg was too heavy and too prudent to walk on the branch of the tree. I kept him at hand for “official” sex at home. I picked up Phil who was more slender. We were both in the gymnastics team.

At dawn, I put on a skirt, no panties, and a t-shirt. I walked over the tree branch to the attic. Phil was already waiting for me inside.  We kissed and touched, then I leaned on the windowsill and I tapped the Unlock button on my mobile phone. My chastity patch became loose and I was able to take it off. I tried to place it neatly among my dolls, on the opposite corner of the attic. But by doing so, I mistakenly pulled in my head from the window.

I felt an electric shock on my neck. Then another zap. With my last bit of power, I threw the chastity patch on the dolls and I quickly returned to the window to pop my head out. The height of the windowsill was just right for spreading my legs in the attic, which had the advantage of reminding Phil why we were here.

Phil got the message. He lifted my skirt from behind. My neck with the collar was outside the window, but no one could see Phil. He came into me and started to thrust. I was in seventh heaven. Just the thrill of doing it outside, with a guy my parents didn’t know about. Phil’s thrusts became more powerful and I was building up towards an orgasm.

At this moment, the head of Mrs. Johnson appeared on the footpath, right below me.

“Hi there, Anette, are you cleaning the attic?” she asked.

“Yes! Yess! Yesss! Mrs. Johnson, I’m cleaning the attic,” I replied. Mrs. Johnson was content with my answer and she walked away. Then, disaster:  Phil pulled out of me at the worst possible moment. This was like cruelty to an animal. I quickly turned my head back and whispered:

“Put it back!”

“Let’s wait a little. I don’t want to be caught,” he replied, and he looked scared.

“Put it back!” I hissed. “Put it back now!” I was almost shouting. Any girl who suffered a similar indignity will understand. I was all wound up with nowhere to turn to.

Phil looked miserable and he said, “Let’s walk down the steps. I can help you.”

“The steps are blocked, you fool. The only way out is through this narrow window and that means over my body!” I must have roughed him up a little because he went all limp.

Guys can be fragile and must be handled with care. While I had to keep my neck outside the window, I remembered the online experience with my photos. Hundreds of guys said they were getting erect from seeing my naked bum. I was indeed tight down there. Leaning forward raised even more dicks on the net. It should work in the attic too. So, while keeping my neck firmly outside, I unbuttoned my skirt, took it off and threw it on the floor. It landed a bit too far, but at least it was inside the attic. Now I was naked below the waist, although from the street I looked like a good girl in my T-shirt and blond pigtails.

“Hi Anette, are you back to your hide-and-seek place?” said Mr. Paulson from the footpath.

“Yes, Mr. Paulson, I always liked this place, and I came to say goodbye before going to college.” I managed to chat for a while with this neighbor. While I chatted, Phil realized there was no danger for him to be seen from the street. My naked bum must have had an effect, with the added subtlety of my vagina twitching in expectation of his re-entry. Phil came closer and I felt he was hard as steel. Then he came inside me and started to thrust again. This time he went all the way and we both had a mind-blowing orgasm.

“This was good, Phil,” I said in a relieved voice. “Can you please pass me my chastity patch, so I can pull in my neck from the window?”

“Anette, let’s do it again. Just wait a little please.”

“What? Phil?”

“Just stay there!” His voice became commanding. As my head started to clear from post-orgasmic high, I realized I was trapped. I used up almost all my “free” zaps for the day.

We collared girls knew the drill. After the easy shocks, a series of hard ones would follow if my neck was out of WiFi range. Even if I managed to walk to the Chastity Patch without fainting, I would have to lock myself very quickly. The shocks would stop after thirty seconds to avoid killing me, but by then I was breaking the rules. This meant that when I eventually put on the Chastity Patch, it would stay locked for three months. One more month would be added for every additional five-minute delay. After twenty minutes, my parents would receive an SMS about their daughter misbehaving. It was not worth the risk.

I scanned the horizon for ideas. On a side, at some distance, I spotted an old woman leaning out of her window. I waved at her. She waved back. I noticed she was leaning on a pillow placed on the windowsill.

“Phil, this is getting uncomfortable. Could you pass me that old blanket, please?”  My voice was more submissive than I was willing to admit. Phil pumped up his chest and brought me the blanket. I arranged it below my elbows. It had all the smells of my childhood. The old lady noticed the blanket from a distance and waved at me.

I leaned on the thick blanket and my position suddenly became very comfortable. I relaxed and took a rest. All in all, Phil was not too bad with his penis. My bare bottom made me a bit cocky.

“Hey Phil, you mentioned a repeat performance.” Phil showed no reaction, so I went one step further:

“Take you time, Phil, I’m ready and waiting for you,” my submissive voice did the trick. This time, Phil was in full power, more sure of himself than any time before.

He kept me in the window for two more hours, fucking me from behind every twenty minutes. For all this time, the old lady in the distance was also leaning out of the window, although I doubt she had pleasures comparable to my ones. I waved to her between orgasms.

I was past the fifth orgasm when Phil took a break. He didn’t withdraw, just stopped thrusting. My body agreed with the pause as long as he was firmly inside. Every now and then, his penis had a spontaneous move and my flesh responded accordingly. We didn’t have to do anything, our bodies worked by themselves. We were resting like this when I heard a voice from below:

“Hi miss, you got a nice collar up there.”  A middle-aged man was looking at me from the street.

“Yes, most girls in my school have similar collars.”

“What is it made of?”

“It’s the same material as my braces. See?” and I sent a broad smile to this unknown man.

Phil felt I was neglecting him, so he showed me who was boss in the attic. With his penis inside, he gave me a strong push which was quite welcome. I realized I had better things to do than chat with that dull man below. I arched my back a bit more and we ended up in a better position. Phil started to thrust which sent shivers up my spine. He couldn’t stop, and neither could I, until the next orgasm. We kept going like this for a while.

In the end, Phil brought me my chastity patch, helped me get locked, and we got out of the attic. When we were walking back over the branch of the tree, Phil almost lost his balance. I had to help him. He looked completely spent, while I felt in top form. And I beat the Home Sex Kit!!!

Nelly: Mound Plate does foreplay and replay

I’m younger than Anette, so I started with the Home Sex Kit two years later, at sixteen, for similar reasons. By that time, Pussytech has admitted there was a design flaw in their previous version, due to the distance between neck and pussy. They argued they used an industry-standard solution, and they pointed to the extensive literature on disciplinary collars. It was good enough for their Version One.

I was one of the first girls who were given Version Two of the Home Sex Kit. It came with a Mound Plate instead of a collar. Unlike the collar, the Mound Plate wasn’t visible when you were dressed. It was permanently attached and made my mound more prominent, which I didn’t mind.

The Mound Plate reduced the need for shaving since it was stuck to the spot where my hair used to grow the most. In place of hair, my mound showed a pair of red cherries, against green leaves.

In my bedroom, the WiFi from the Home Sex Kit was nailed to the wall. Perhaps it was a Bluetooth, whatever. If I wanted to unlock my pussy, I had to stay within the range of the device. Just as Anette described it. When I ventured outside the WiFi range, the Mound Plate gave me a shock on my underbelly.

I was always a bit of a geek with a hacker instinct, interested to defeat official technology. These shocks needed electrical power. When I was safely back in the WiFi range, I tried pulling out both batteries from my Mound Plate. But they wouldn’t come out from their slots. It turned out that Pussytech created a scheme where I could only unlock myself when at least one of the batteries had at least 30% power left.

That was enough for severe shocks. While my pussy was unlocked, the batteries in my mound remained locked in their slots, so the device was ready to fire if I lost the WiFi signal. Unless I locked myself.

I had to admit, this was smart. There was no way to unlock my pussy outside the bedroom. If I couldn’t beat the machine, then at least my brain got stimulated with my logical attempts.  I rewarded myself with a solid dose of masturbation, in my room of course. On my way to school, I made sure to buy some new batteries, just in case.

As people pointed out, I had to wait the usual three days for Kevlar fibers to grow into my clit. The user manual said my vagina would be formatted faster than in previous versions because the spurs inside me benefited from extra power derived from the batteries in the Mound Plate. 

Things improved after a fortnight when the Chastity app on my phone notified me that the pleasure features of the Mound Plate had been activated. The good news was that I could get pleasure while my Chastity Patch was still locked on me, even outside the WiFi range. Apparently, the Mound Plate could recognize the fingerprints of boys. The boy I fancied had to touch his own phone with his finger, then his fingerprint was automatically downloaded through my phone into my Mound Plate. It did not work with my own finger. After all, this was anti-masturbation training.

I tried this when my boyfriend Andy invited me to the cinema. First, we had to exchange a few messages of acceptance. When the lights went off in the cinema, Andy opened the top buttons on my blue jeans. He found my plate quite easily. As he rested his finger, I felt a small but vivid touch on my clit. This was surprising because my clit was actually buried below the chastity patch and I couldn’t touch it the whole day.

The feeling from the Mound Plate was very realistic. I felt it stronger than the real thing. When Andy moved his finger, the pleasurable sensation moved on my clit. I whispered in his ear, “further up.” Andy replied that he knew already.

Apparently, the Mound Plate had a bit of texture, guiding Andy’s finger towards the middle. At the top-middle, there was a tiny vertical bump and immediately below it a small vertical depression. Andy had no problem figuring out that the bump represented my clit and the depression was my vagina. Unlike in real life, they were so close to each other, that Andy could play both with a single finger. The pleasure was overwhelming, especially inside where I wasn’t used to it.

Andy had to learn how to move his finger. I gave him plenty of feedback, as much as possible in a cinema. The feeling was very accurate, every single move of his finger was delivered immediately on a corresponding spot on my clit. When he moved into my depression, the feeling shook me up, as if I was about to have an orgasm in my vagina.

Andy’s finger gave me more pleasure through the Mound Plate than in direct contact. We were no strangers to natural foreplay. On earlier occasions, I already enjoyed Andy’s finger in my bedroom, where I could take off the chastity patch.  His touch was good on my clit, but not always sufficient. That was because I recently developed a taste for getting fingered, presumably as a side-effect of wearing the chastity patch. Andy couldn’t finger me at the same time as he played with my clit, although he tried to contort his hand.

Pussytech asked for my feedback, as an early adopter of the Mound Plate. I gave them five stars, and I mentioned a problem. When we came out of the cinema, I was so aroused that I could hardly walk. My fanny has opened, and I literarily had difficulty keeping my legs together.

Pussytech acknowledged my complaint and half a year later they asked me to test drive the new Derouse feature. It was aimed at ending uncomfortable arousal.  It didn’t need any extra hardware, but my software was upgraded.

They explained that the long-lasting, uncomfortable arousal is due to the clitoral bulbs on either side of my vagina. They can be seen from behind, but I must use a mirror to take a selfie to show that. In an aroused state, they fill up with blood and can stay like that for an hour. They only deflate when you have rhythmical contractions during orgasm. The idea was for the Chastity Patch to apply shocks, in a similar rhythm, to the upper ends of the bulbs, in order to open the valves and let the blood through.

It worked. So now I can tap on the Derouse button if I find continued arousal uncomfortable. In a sense, it’s an admission of defeat, having to accept there is no orgasm coming. On the other hand, it is good to be in control.

Meanwhile, I found out that you can go to a beauty parlor to change the decorative layer on your Mound Patch. Like changing the film on the screen of a mobile phone. So I changed to a floral pattern.

After some time, there was a software upgrade on my phone, and it became easier to add guys to the list of allowed touches on the Mount Plate. When a new guy invited me to a cinema for the first time, I tapped on the Enable Trial button. The Mound Plate amplified his touch and also learned his fingerprints. If the guy was worth a second date, then at the end of the movie, I tapped Save New Contact.

On the other hand, any guy who hasn’t touched me for a month was automatically disabled for the Mound Plate. But the phone allowed me to enable again any old flame.

I’m writing this four years later, at college. My parents no longer manage my sex life, and there is no compulsion to wear the Mound Plate. But I would be silly to take it off. In fact, I love it more than ever. I had the fingerprints of seventeen guys so far, and there is memory for 256.

Some time ago, a replay feature came out, but it only remembered the touch of the last eight guys I’ve been with. It rendered the feeling in an inaccurate way. I had to buy a new mobile phone. Pussytech said all my settings were archived on their server, so everything transferred smoothly to my new mobile.

Now the replay is a pixel-perfect rendition of the initial touch. Last night, someone called Johnny rang, asking me out on a date. I’ve been with four Jonnies, and I couldn’t recall which one I was talking to. While we were talking, my phone showed the place and date where he last touched my Mound Plate. Conveniently, there was also a Play Snippet button which I tapped, and I immediately got reminded. He was an uncoordinated loser, who managed to miss both the bump and the depression on my Mound Plate, despite accurate instructions I gave him, “more to the left, further down.” That was two months ago.

I politely declined the date. Instead, I curled up on the sofa and replayed the touch of a few guys. One of the replays gave me an orgasm, which didn’t happen in the original setting when he was playing with my Mound Plate at a noisy party a year earlier. Perhaps I’ve grown more sensitive from the Chastity Patch. Or, I was in a better mood on my sofa.

I sometimes let my hair down at parties, but I don’t want to do anything foolish on the impulse of the moment. Before I leave, I lock my Chastity Patch with the separate key they’ve given me from Pussytech. This overrides the mobile phone. I leave this key at home, so there is no way to open my pussy while I’m away, even if I have my mobile phone with me.

Daniela: orgasmic chastity

I often babysit for neighbors for small change. Now that I turned sixteen, an older friend told me I could earn more if I join the Chaste Baby-Sitters Association. They offered to pay to install a Chastity Patch on me. My parents seemed to like the idea because they couldn’t pay the cost. Most other girls in the school already had chastity patches with beautiful Mound Plates.

My friend warned me the patch would prevent me from getting into bed with any of the dads of the babies in my care. I had no such plans, so I signed up. In the fitting room, the nurse explained that handling the Chastity Patch on or off will take me more time than for other girls. I knew the reason, but I kept it secret, for fear of reducing my chances of employment. We were poor and we needed the money.

After I got fitted, I had to accumulate a total of 300 hours of wearing the patch, which gave me time in between to play with myself. My parents never stopped me. It was indeed fiddly to take off and put on the Chastity Patch, so I kept it mostly on, to build up the 300 hours faster.

The patch felt better and better each day, and I started wearing it all week.  It was a new model with improved ventilation, which worked especially well when I was wearing no panties. Three weeks later, I got my first assignment at a well-to-do family who lived in a luxury apartment in a high-rise. The dad looked impressive and I understood why his wife insisted on a chaste babysitter. She briefly scanned me with a small handheld device to confirm I was locked for the next three days, then she left for a conference out of town, leaving me with her husband. But I was a good girl anyway. This was just a clean way of earning some money.

Things got interesting when the dad’s young nephew came to visit. He was tall, quiet, and I liked him at first sight. When he left, I walked with him a few steps in the hall.  While waiting for the elevator, he told me he was Matt, nineteen, and a poor relative. He depended on money from his rich uncle. I quickly told him I was Daniela, also poor and I was locked, but only because I was babysitting. Then I had to return to the apartment.

I became a regular at this family and Matt was often waiting for me in the foyer when my shift ended. We walked hand-in-hand towards my home. Matt wanted to study and gave me some ideas. We became close, and soon I allowed his fingerprints to be recognized by my Mound Plate. We made out in my room. When he moved his finger, I either moaned a little with pleasure, or I moaned a lot.

After a while, he knew where my sweet spots were on the Mound Plate. We often stopped for a quickie on a bench in the park. I saw no need to take off my Chastity Patch yet, although the day was approaching to lose my virginity.

I received a different assignment in a leafy suburb at a large house. The job was advertised with “enforced perimeter” and was paying twice the usual rate. Chastity was also required, and I already had references for that. I went for a familiarisation visit, mainly to see how I got along with the baby. The mother opened the door, showed me around, and tapped a widget on her mobile.  

The lady said, “The enforcer is on, be careful not to cross the perimeter line. You may get shocked.” The perimeter included the garden, but the study room was out of bounds. “I suggest you try the perimeter enforcer before you decide to take up the job with us,” said the lady in a friendly voice.

I made a few steps into the study. A buzzing feeling came up at my perineum, between my vagina and my anus. It wasn’t painful, but I found I couldn’t function while it was going. I was unable to stand in one place, the buzz tickled me so badly that I had to lift one foot or the other. After a few seconds, I returned inside the perimeter. When I did that, I felt a nice caress on my clit.

“See, my dear, there is stick and carrot,” said the lady. “Are you ready to take the job?”

I was expecting the question and I responded, “Yes!” They were paying me a small fortune to babysit during weekends. I could get an education if I kept this job.

The baby was easy to deal with. The owners of the house were often away for the whole weekend. When I got really bored, I walked a few steps into the study, then I quickly returned. The alternation of discomfort and pleasure kept me awake.

I accidentally left the door open to the study and the baby crawled through it when I was not looking. I had to run and bring him back. This incursion in the study lasted longer than the ones I did on purpose, so I had to bear the buzz near my anus for more than I wanted. On reflection, it wasn’t that bad.

The next day, I went to Matt’s place. I was still a virgin, but not for long. I made up my mind, although I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. In Matt’s room, I was trying to get comfortable, still locked in the Chastity Patch. Matt undressed me and my Mound Plate was shining with a butterfly image. Matt played with it and I got more and more aroused. The feeling was comprehensive and irresistible.

Then Matt did something unexpected. He leaned down and licked my Mound Plate. I saw a thousand stars all at once. His tongue first circled my little bump on the plate, and I was nearly screaming of pleasure. His big, wet tongue touched many more points than his finger, so I got an avalanche of pleasure all over the place. When he moved his tongue into my depression, I felt a big wave building up inside me and I exploded into a huge orgasm. It took me minutes to catch my breath.

I felt grateful for Matt and I sucked his cock to relieve him. We were resting and cuddling when I said, “let’s do it.” He grabbed his mobile phone and unlocked me. By that time, I’ve given him control, without relinquishing my control. I could have unlocked it myself, but it felt better if he was doing something to me and I was allowing him to do it.  The Chastity Patch became loose. Matt started to pull on it, but I had to stop him.

“Careful, Matt, I need to tell you something: I am a virgin.” Matt went all red. He did not expect this. Suddenly, he was holding me like I was made of delicate china. He pulled out the spurs from my vagina very carefully, so I did not get hurt. It was easier for him than when I had to deal with the problem myself in a contorted position.

He used the torch of his mobile phone, and when I was free from the Chastity Patch, he snapped a photo and showed it to me. As I already knew, my hymen was still there, allowing no more than a single finger to get in. And I was still enjoying the feeling from the deep vaginal orgasm I had ten minutes earlier.

We proceeded as mother nature told us to do. I thought I was not supposed to have an orgasm from the first penis, but I did. Perhaps I was still aroused from the previous cosmic event. Matt broke my hymen very carefully. It did hurt, I bled a little. But I loved the feeling of him being inside me. I loved the simultaneity, the mutual responses of our bodies. He started slowly but lasted a long time. His endurance could have been his own merit, or mine after I sucked him dry earlier. We slowly built momentum and then we came together. Devices just can’t replace the feeling of togetherness.

There is still nothing like a penis in vagina, although my earlier orgasm was deeper when I was locked in Chastity Patch with Mound Plate.  In the coming months, we alternated between natural and amplified arousal. As others have said, the Mount Plate was better than foreplay.

In the next few days, the Chastity Patch became uncomfortable and loose, shifting around. I had to go back for a replacement. They said this often happens when girls lose their virginity. The new one has a larger intruder, filling me just right. I can squeeze it, which saves batteries. The spurs are electronically controlled, capable of opening like a bottle-brush deep inside.

Together with Matt, we are now earning some money, by testing a new product from Pussytech. He is wearing a permanent cock-ring made of the same Kevlar material as my Chastity Patch. When he gets erect, the ring tenses and generates electricity. At the same time, I get a pleasurable fill deep in my vagina. We just need to be close to our phones, which we are anyway. If I get a contraction, Matt’s ring squeezes him at the base of his penis. This makes him tense his penis again, which gives me one more contraction, and so on until we run out of puff.

It’s a nice feeling of togetherness when we can’t afford to live together. It's rare that I need to wait to get any signal from him. Usually, I get a small bang inside me once or twice an hour, preceded by a tickle on my clit. I’m not always in the mood to respond, but his penis comes back to life regularly. I never thought guys get erections so often.

Nights are the best and by dawn, I’m moving my hips in my sleep, following Matt’s rhythm. We are both used to it by now. I always know what he is up to and he always knows whether I’m receptive. These days, I’m almost always receptive, but it works best when Matt takes the lead.

Juliette: a pussy at the wheel  

I’m the wife of a diplomat, my main duty being attendance at receptions. I often sit at dinner tables, dressed in high fashion, next to my husband Rob. Behind my neck, I wear a small microchip which connects to my Mound Plate. It transmits any signal from the back of my neck to my mound, from where the chastity patch distributes it under fine-grained control to my most pleasurable parts.

The microchip is sensitive to touch. The vertebra in the back of my neck corresponds to the bump in the Mound Plate, which corresponds to my clit. Further down my spine, there is a small depression below the vertebra. This depression communicates with the depression on my Mound Plate, which in turn stirs inside my vagina. Any touch on the back of my neck is instantly conveyed to the corresponding nerve in my pussy or clit.  

It’s so sensitive that I can tell which finger Rob is using on the back of my neck. A tiny movement of his finger on my vertebra makes me feel the focus of pleasure moving on my clit. When he touches the depression behind my neck, I feel as if my vagina was being filled by a different part of Rob’s body, which I love most.

No one has to know about my microchip, but all I can say I get a lot of pleasure from it. This is the main reason for wearing a Chastity Patch because without it the Mound Plate wouldn’t reach my pleasure spots. There is also another reason: I must be neat, tight and pale down there. The chastity patch does exactly that, so I just keep it on.

At the official reception, Rob’s arm is on the back of my neck, where the microchip is just below my skin. I trained him to play with my clit and my vagina for the best advantage.

I’m often witty in discussion. That’s why Rob married me. When my clit gets stimulated,  I can be sparkling and brilliant. People all around are listening, journalists are taking notes. In clitoral terms, my top right is the most sensitive and is also the spot that helps me think faster. Rob is aware of this and he keeps his finger ready to help. He knows when I need stimulation, and he also knows when I shall be allowed to make my point. He brings out the best of me.

When the discussion subsides, and I’m catching my breath, Rob’s finger moves into the depression on the plate, and my vagina twitches in pleasure. That’s my reward and it motivates me to stay alert for the next subject around the table. Rob must be alert too, to use his finger on the right spot at the right time. I can’t speak when my vagina is twitching, and I can’t rest when my clit is stimulated.

Rob knows his job and we are an effective couple, although we have our own hiccups. I can see he had a few glasses of wine, so it will be my turn to drive home. Walking to the car park with an aroused vagina is a typical task for a diplomat’s wife. I just need to move my feet in a small circle, because of the hole in the middle. As a result, I wiggle my bottom in a sensuous fashion, just as required in my role. Ron says I’m helping him advance in his carrier.

Our car has a small WiFi sensor, but only in the driver’s seat. When it detects a pussy at the wheel, then it activates the Derouse function and turns off pleasure from the Mound Plate. Safety first. The short drive home is sufficient for the wireless charger in the headrest to charge up the chip behind my neck.

This was a typical night in diplomatic life, and we still had work to do. Rob had to travel to a conference in another city. I had to hold the fort in the capital and build new contacts.

On the night before he left for the trip, Rob showed his best and worst sides. He is hopeless with technology. Even a simple application on the mobile phone is beyond him. In contrast, I love exploring the various menus and options. In my Chastity app, I set up myself with cool-off times like half an hour, before I go to risky parties. So, I can’t unlock myself on the impulse of the moment. It would be nice to bring Rob into the game, but mobile phones are just beyond him.

On the other hand, Rob is the best I had in bed, and that’s why I married him. On this night, he delivered as I got used to, but I didn’t want to exhaust him before the trip. He might say something stupid when I’m not near him.

In the morning, I just needed his touch on my Mound Plate. I put on the Chastity Patch then asked him to lock it into place. I pointed to my mobile phone, then I closed my eyes for my beauty sleep. I heard Rob fiddling to pack his briefcase. He kissed the back of my neck and I got a shiver in my pussy. That would only work if my Chastity Patch was locked on me. Rob has managed somehow with my mobile phone – or so I thought.

In the afternoon, it was time for a bit of grooming. I tapped on Unlock and a message came up:  “Unlocking not available from mobile app when Lock was done with external key.” Rob had locked me with the service key!

I checked the drawer. The service key to my Chastity Patch was gone! I immediately rang Rob. His voice was as sweet as ever. He said the key to my pussy was the most valuable item in his diplomatic briefcase. He provided a few other excuses when I realized he was jealous. That brought a warm feeling to my heart, and I instantly forgave my Rob.

While Rob was away with the key, I couldn’t open my pussy for pleasure, nor for business. An impenetrable pussy is rather useless for building relations with other countries.

To my luck, not all ambassadors were as young and vigorous as Rob. Being elderly, they had to be conditioned first, before they were ready for action. I had my eyes on three such diplomats from neutral countries which we wanted to turn into our allies. I could have gotten them straight away, but my bumbling Rob had inadvertently mixed up my plans.

I was still able to serve my country, by preparing my next moves. There were a few parties on the diplomatic circuit, and I was safe to go with my locked pussy. First, I went to a beauty parlor where they applied a new label on my Mound Plate. It was like changing the thin film which covers the screens of mobile phones. The new film allows touch to be conveyed without any loss of granularity.  When it comes to my clit, I like detail and refinement, while my vagina prefers power and fullness.

At the first party, I dropped word to some women about my Mound Patch being adorned with my national colors. As I expected, the gossip went all around. Like most other women, I wasn’t wearing panties.

Soon, the first ambassador came to enquire about the national flag of my country. I led him to a side room and I lifted my skirt for him to have a look. My crotch was fully covered by the chastity patch, I had no vertical slit to be seen. With my pale skin and matching cover, I was the embodiment of modesty and chastity.

On my Mound Plate, in a prominent position, the flag of my country was showing in vivid colors. If he expected a bush, then he got a brightly colored composition. I told him he could touch my flag.

I enabled his fingerprints for the Mound Plate, and it felt good. During my week in lockdown, my national flag gathered the touch of two other ambassadors, all to my great pleasure. I didn’t have to fake it, because the Mound Plate always brings intensive foreplay.

I never mentioned to them the microchip behind my neck. I didn’t want them to touch me there. It would have weakened my position by clouding my mind, without placing any erotic obligation on their penises. I just had to keep them in my orbit, until my pussy was free to bring them into our sphere of influence.

Eventually, Rob came home with the key. He’s the love of my life and I gave him the best a wife could offer. In return, I got what I was missing for a week. Looking back, it was fun being locked for a while.

Within a month, I slept with all three ambassadors. There was also a defense representative from a major country. I can’t disclose details about this latest man, but he was the only one with sufficiently good manners to lick my flag.

The list of fingerprints in my Mound Plate reads like “Who's Who” of international relations. The standing of my country has never been higher.