The room was small, smaller than aprison cell, and had a wall of lockers. "Most often, we have girls puttheir robes on here, but they usually don't come here in suchcircumstances as you, they usually sign their lives away without evenrealizing it." I opened a locker, and removed a box, but ignored therobe hanging inside. I placed it down in front of him. "Put it on."He opened it, it looked like metal women's underwear. "What is it?" It is your chastity belt."He looked at me as if I had three heads. "Excuse me?"I echoed my former statement. "It is your chastity belt." I ain't fucking wearin' that thing." He shook his head wildly.I looked around at the four guards, looked down at myself then lookedat him, and then pointed out with my hands, that the room was small. Infact any two walls facing one another, had less distance than myheight, toe to head... The room was cramped. "You are. The question is,bruising. Do you want to put it on? Or do these guards hold you downwhile I put it on?". ‘Why me?’ I asked Elizabeth in an email.‘Well you seemed fairly harmless and not a threat.’ I was not sure that I felt flattered to be considered to be ‘not a threat, ‘ but hey ho, I was not complaining if it meant occasional glimpses of Elizabeth’s pretty undies.So our emails continued through the year, getting increasingly naughty, exchanging fantasies about masturbation, flashing and Elizabeth’s other secret fetish of tossing men off. Receiving an email from Elizabeth always led to me unzipping, taking out my cock and stroking it as I fantasised about what our next meeting might lead to. Would our next encounter lead to more than a glimpse of Elizabeth’s pretty knickers? Might I actually see her lovely cunt?I dropped quite a few hints to Elizabeth that I would love to see what was under the panties. Did she shave her hair or did it grow wild, or perhaps trimmed into a ‘landing strip.’, or what ever other names the ladies had for their intimate hair styles.Elizabeth did not respond.
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