Insatiable Hunger: Chapter 08

When I woke up, every muscle in my body was sore and I was sticky with dried sweat. A testament to my ordeal the night before. I slowly get myself out of bed glancing at the fresh sheet and blanket on the counter. I step into the bathroom. Going to the bathroom was quite an ordeal, I didn’t feel like the bidet got everywhere it needed to with the belt. “Good thing there is a shower in here,” I say aloud to myself.

I step into the shower and notice that the fixtures have changed. Now in addition to the overhead shower, there is an attached handheld showerhead. Between this and the new sheets, Master really does think of everything, doesn’t he, I muse.

As I stand under the warm cascade of water, the handheld showerhead catches my eye. Desperation fuels my creativity, and I decide to test its potential. I angle the stream toward myself, hoping the pressure might be enough to penetrate the barrier of the belt. The water hits my skin, a teasing caress that only intensifies my longing. But no matter how I adjust the nozzle, the stream isn’t strong enough to breach the shield. Frustration mounts as I realize Master’s foresight in every detail, even the shower’s design. The water, once a source of relief, now mocks me, a reminder of my captivity.

I push the button to turn on the dryers and the warm air hits my damp skin. Drying myself off, I can’t help but glance at the chastity belt, a constant reminder of my captivity. The bathroom, once a place of solace, now feels like another prison, each fixture meticulously designed to ensure my compliance.

I shuffle over to the small table. I fix myself some cereal like always, but my appetite is dampened by the constant loop of moans and flesh slapping on the TV. I glare at the screen, the images blurring together as my anger and frustration boil over. Each scene is a cruel reminder of what I’m being denied, the sounds amplifying my own unmet desires.

I decide to lose myself in the virtual paradise of my computer and sit down in my gaming chair. The soft cushion cradles my body, a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding metal that still encases me. As I boot up the system, the familiar glow of the screen offers a fleeting sense of normalcy, a temporary reprieve from the relentless torment. I immerse myself in the digital world, the vibrant colors and immersive sounds distracting me from the constant ache within.

As I delve deeper into the virtual world, the familiar glow of the screen begins to fade, replaced by an all-too-real sensation. The vibrations start again, jolting me out of my temporary escape. My heart races as panic sets in, my hands trembling over the keyboard. I hold my breath, bracing for the inevitable escalation, but it never comes. The steady pulse remains constant, a teasing rhythm that refuses to relent but also doesn’t intensify.

I glance around the room, half-expecting Master to appear, his smirk twisting the knife of my torment. But the door remains closed, and I’m left alone with this relentless, maddening stimulation.

After a few moments, the vibrations gradually lessen, becoming a low, steady hum that, while still present, no longer feels like it’s tearing me apart. I exhale deeply, trying to calm my racing heart, and glance around the room once more, half-expecting Master to emerge from the shadows with that knowing smirk. But the door remains shut, and the silence is almost deafening. The stimulation is still there, a constant reminder of my predicament, but it’s no longer unbearable.

I focus again on the game, the vibrant colors and immersive sounds offering a fragile escape from the relentless hum between my legs. Yet, with every subtle vibration, my mind drifts back to the cold metal encasing me, a cruel reminder of my reality.