Lula grasped desperately at the metal plate between her legs and sobbed. She tried to slide her fingers underneath the chastity belt but found no relief. The belt fit her snugly, perfectly. She inhaled deeply and peered down, hoping to discover a small space between the belt and her rich figure. There was none.
“It’s no use, love,” I told her. She continued her fidgeting as if I hadn’t spoken. I watched her, fascinated by her focus and determination. Her dark hair obscured her face, and in her silence and diligence reminded me of a crow working out how to open its cage.
Lula scooted to the foot of the bed and gripped the bedpost tightly. She pushed her metal-clad vula into the post, searching for a little bit of pressure to help silence the bell ringing between her legs. She bucked her hips uselessly a few times and mewed. She felt nothing but a dull, aching need.