Deutsche hardcorechat & Camsexdays: Chastizer

musingsfrombelow: The belt is back out. Well, back on. And no,...

The belt is back out. Well, back on. And no, that's not me, but the model is the same, my-steel hip model, which made me happy to find this pic, since most pics of any brand of belt tend to usually be the higher waist style. Ooff, this takes getting use to again, it's definitely coming off before bed. Also, speaking of my-steel hip models, lockedali got her belt back and started blogging again.

I think way back when after the three month chastity challenge I became kind of burnt out on the belt in terms of interest. It's funny, it's not because of wearing the belt for that long, the belt is fine once you get use to it. It wasn't not having an orgasm or any stimulation down there for three months. Yeah that was sometimes frustrating, if it hadn't been it wouldn't have been a challenge to begin with, but it's not like I'm a nympho who was in agony because of it. I think it was more of a "Well, now what?". I had done three months, I wasn't ever going to do more than that, so what was left? Nothing right? No, that was a stupid mindset, I was going about that all wrong.

actegratuit: - daybreak - dawn Markus Grunau

actegratuit:

- daybreak

- dawn

Markus Grunau

Tell me your secrets, Vagina.

subtrainer: Perfect.

subtrainer:

Perfect.

Unexpected Developments

Photo

When I was five, just after my birthday, my parents took me on a...

When I was five, just after my birthday, my parents took me on a vacation to Edisto Beach. We stayed there a week and I remember wading out along the shore and playing on the beaches. On our last day there, I was playing in the sand and I found a little, white sand-crab while I was building a sandcastle. I don't really remember why I did it, I guess it was because my bathing suit had no pockets, but I pushed the little crab into my vagina for safe keeping. I remember her being cold, but not feeling that bad and I went back to building my sandcastle.

Soon, my parents called me back and said it was time to go home. We drove for hours and when we would hit a bump or make a sharp turn, I could feel the crab move inside me because she was scared. We finally reached our house late that evening. I was still sandy from the beach and my mom made me take a bath. While playing in the bathtub, I reached into my privates and carefully pulled the little crab out. I knew crabs liked water so I thought she would be happy in her new home! But instead of swimming about, she just lay there between my legs.

Sometime between the beach and the bathtub, my little crab had died. I looked at her little lifeless body and began to cry.

My mom heard me crying and came in to see what was wrong. Between sobs, I showed her the crab and told her what I had done. I thought she would be angry, but she just looked at me strangely for a moment and told me it would be okay and hugged me until I stopped crying. We put my little crab in an old shoe box with a flower I picked from my mom's garden and one of my little teddy bears so she wouldn't be alone. We had a funeral in the back yard and buried her next to our lemon tree. Later on my mom made me promise to never put anything up in my privates again.

Whenever I go home to visit my family, I usually wander into our backyard to reminisce about the fun I had there growing up. My old swingset is gone now, and our little lemon tree by the fence has grown big over the years. Even though things have changed, I always make sure to visit my little, pretty crab's grave. There is no marker to show where she rests, but I know the spot exactly. Sometimes I sit and mourn a friendship that was never to be.