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True Story: Own Chastity

by Lisa C

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© Copyright 2013 - Lisa C - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; sbf; chastity; condition; fpov; hyp; torment; bdsm; punish; caught; denial; mast; climax; cons; true; XX

This is a true story of myself. I chose to write about it as a cathartic way to understand how I got to where I am now. For some it may be arousing, others appalling, to some you may understand. It’s my story and I have tried to include as much as I could. I chose not to include all the mental thoughts because in order to tell the story you need to see the whole picture.

I did it I reached my goal. Two years completely no sexual contact, no orgasms, no self touching, nothing sexual or anything remotely related to getting aroused. It started off as a game I played with myself. It turned out to be a way to contain, enclose and humiliate and degrade myself. My favorite games I play with myself. I try to find ways to overcome my urge to want to get off, deter the release, endure the suffering and prolong my own desires for something or someone else.

I wanted to become a virgin to myself. I wanted to stop all the feelings and emotions of my inner sexuality. I became numb to it. I reached a point of almost no return. I would have worn a chastity belt had I even know they existed. I didn’t look because it was something I thought most people didn’t practice or wanted to do to themselves. It was too weird.. too out there.. just not normal. Neither is wanting to reclaim my orgasm for a long period of time. So I thought. Now I know better.

I never looked around online, I avoided every pleasure seeking endowment, I shunned anything that could spark a feeling, a thought or a reaction. In essence, I conditioned myself. I became solitary void of my own sexuality. It was immune for me. I pushed it so far away it was not even a thought anymore. It was erased. Nothing was able to spark my inner thoughts, desires. It was non-existent. I didn’t exist.

I started out seeing how long I would hold out to not masturbate. The game became an obsession.

Month One: I started on Nov 1, 2010. I wanted to see how long I could go without sex, or masturbation. The first few days were a challenge because my thought was this is a self induced denial of what I wanted and chastising myself for wanting it. This was too weird. I wasn’t about to tell anyone what I was doing. It’s not healthy or normal. I started to think in terms of self worth and attached my own worst traits to each thing I did.

I began to punish myself each night.. I started to want it. I would lay there and think of the choices I made. Why did I want this? What is my real reason? I wanted a self induced bondage. I did this a young girl.. Over and over. Deny myself things and then see how long I could go without. I did with anything that I craved. I wanted to be stronger and know I was in charge of myself; mentally, physically, psychologically. I won and lost at the same time. I wanted to see if I could do it again. What did I have to lose? What did I have to gain? I would find out.

Month Three: The cycle of wanting to get off was becoming easier to manage. Less desire to “get off” and more desire to not do it. I I became well versed at mentally challenging myself if I did this.. would it count? What if I brought myself almost to the brink but didn’t? What if I would let someone else do it bring me to the edge and not allow me to orgasm. Nope. I wanted to see if I could justify any of those things. I reminded myself over and over. I couldn’t and imposed restrictions if I even came close or thought about it. First restriction if I ventured past the limit of thinking of touching myself. I would deny myself a treat like candy or ice cream. Second offense I would sleep with my hands underneath the pillow under my head. This was difficult because I had to at one point tie my hands to the pillow. Then I woke up with numb arms and hands. That seemed to be a good way to avoid the “ nocturnal” urges that occurred.

Month Five: By this point it was not even a thought anymore to go to my bed, or shower with the anticipation of getting off. I lost all contact with anyone who could elicit any remote emotion of sexuality or arouse a feeling of self wanting. I fought the urge to look at my favorite porn sites. I avoided looking at any movie that would give off that feeling. Avoid and push away the stimulation of having my own inner fantasy. I started to work on the next area. Then I started noticing ads on tv, print news, people in public, internet images and radio. I avoided the thought of sex with anyone out of my mind. I didn’t even look at dating sites. I just stopped being a sexual being completely. I was slowly erasing my own sexuality in phases. Rewarding myself with little things like allowing myself to look in the mirror for a few minutes at my body or by taking a painting class.

Month 6-9: I thought I had mastered it completely by this point. I had achieved the removal of masturbation completely. I thought had I been pregnant I would have given birth by now.

I couldn’t believe I had done this. I was proud of myself and wanted to celebrate. It was a gift that I gave to myself. I, almost, gave in and rewarded myself by having a “quicky” with some online stranger or past fuck buddy. I became obsessed with finding the right time or place. I refrained from even touching myself because I wanted the orgasm to be so intense and without any hesitation when the event came to be. I searched and looked for the right partner, the right place, Hotel room, its one of my favorite places. I have always had a passion for them. Love sex in the car too. But I wanted it to be wilder and a fantastic release. In my search, I became saturated with the idea of “getting off” more and more. I kept thinking of the things I wanted to do to my partner or him to me. It became harder to resist, again. I kept getting excited multiple times per day. I was back to thinking of it more and worse. It was over whelming.

I decided since I was giving in too much to my own body of allowing it become excited so easily I needed to give myself more control. I began a nightly ritual of self induced mental torture. If I had a feeling or had any sensations or felt my clit or vagina getting excited… I would document it and then give myself the proper punishment. At first it was mentally telling myself bad things that were true and chanting them to myself over and over. Mental beatings occurred nightly, and then I would tie my arms around my pillow, I worked up to tying my legs together with my robe’s belt. I began to hurt myself next.

It became a release of sorts. I started by pinching myself over and over. Biting my lips really hard, bending my arms under my body till they were in such agony. I began to wear clothing to bed. It would prevent me from having anything that could extract any pleasure. I wanted to tie myself up. I did it mentally very well at this point. I would shame myself and belittle myself on every occasion that arouse that even gave me a hint of sexuality in any way shape or form. I became a tough master on myself.

Month 10-12: I did this practice of self induced denial of sexuality of any sort in my mind, or body. I was at the point where I could not even come to say the words. I avoided the use of language affiliated with anything sexual. I became attached to daily vents of reading endless books of anything that was NOT sexually content littered. I started to take on hobbies, I started a garden. I focused on everything else around me. Intensely avoiding my own desires completely.

If I wanted something I would instill the idea I had to do something for someone else first to allow myself that reward. I started doing a lot of things for other people to give them joy. Like going over their house and cleaning it for them when they are at work or weeding their yard as a little gift, baking a cake for someone and giving it to them.

I went over and above on everything I did. I didn’t just want to give to people I wanted to serve them. I had the perfect situation to do it too. I became my own Master. I was harsh and strict in my attitude. I denied and rewarded numerous times a day. I challenged myself all the time. It became more about the Mind game and less about the desire to want anything else.

Could I just suppress my personality completely? Would I be able to just be anything but what I was at that point. Could I push my own limits of who I am to everyone else and be someone else inside and someone else outside.

I craved human contact. I craved being loved. I craved and wanted to be something special to someone else.. anyone else. I became my own sadist and felt way too comfortable there.

It was nice to not have to give anything to myself. I was a tool. I began volunteering. I didn’t get the reason why I thought I would get a sense of doing for someone or something else would elevate my need to give myself to someone or something bigger than my own self. I failed at it and quit. I spent 2 weeks with my legs bound and hands wrapped around the pillow and every night at bed. I did my ritual of writing in my journal all the infractions and what I did for punishment. I wore red rings around my arms. I wore long sleeves to hide them and blamed them, when people noticed on my hair bands being too tight. I used them too. I wrapped them over my hands and fingers to pain till it was numb. Then I would remove it and feel the horrible pins and needles. I was prepared to do worse and did. I was satisfied with how much I didn’t want or need anymore.

Year Two:

Month One: My birthday was here and I chose to not celebrate it. I didn’t need that kind of outer support from anyone. I avoided it completely and rewarded myself by giving myself the pleasure of getting a manicure. That was mistake. I realized it the moment it started. The lady washed and touched my legs and feet. I should never have allowed it to happen. It became uncomfortable; I wanted to run away from her as fast as possible. I had trained myself to resist anyone’s touch that I would recoil or worse want it more. I gritted my teeth and kept my mind busy by telling myself that your body is not in control. My mind kept chanting over and over and over.

I made myself walk out to the car, barefoot on the cold concrete and rocks on the pavement as punishment. It worked. I did it without even thinking. I just did it and knew that I had to give myself consequences all the time. I started doing these things each day. I would take a shower in cold water. I would push and pull skin on my body. It was becoming so easy and it was beginning to be something that was slowly more intense. How much could I do to myself.

Month 2-5: Winter was here and I enclosed myself in my own world even further. I avoided people and just forgot who I was. I pretended to be a governess by day and the do things for everyone else fairy. Each day I would ask if anyone needed anything or wanted anything done. I would take on the challenge and do it with a smile. I forced myself to not have a feeling of anything but what I was told to do.

I was my own slave. I initiated my own lists of chores and things to do every night and if I didn’t do the all on the list meant a night of torture. I became used to not completing everything on the list. As I look back, its because I liked the attention of giving myself the torture. I was substituting my feelings into something tangible. Self-inflicted bondage followed by pain. It replaced any stress from anything else. I was my own punisher. No one could affect me outside. I was an impenetrable wall. I began to test my limits further.

Month 6-9: Spring came and it was time to give something deeper. I was void of anything joyful or emotionally painful. I was comfortably numb inside and was proud of it. I couldn’t feel anything but my own inner denial and inner pain.

I lived everyday with the effect of pushing myself in a direction that would push my limits. I induced panic attacks, I would put myself in positions of helplessness, I would do anything that required me to push my personality back. If I didn’t have a day without some form of self bondage to something it was rewarded with my own self torture

I had buried myself so far down I couldn’t understand who I was anymore. I loved the self mind games. I made a game with everything that had a consequence. It was a summer of love and hate for me. I was in my glory of self hatred and self loathing. I enjoyed the creation of someone who didn’t exist anymore. I was almost close to perfect in my mind. I couldn’t be anything else but a person who couldn’t do anything but serve in a sense. I became my own slave.

Month 10-12: I was at the point of being so self induced I decided to test myself now. I was always challenging myself daily. But I wanted to see how much I could stand. I read and re-read my journals and understood how far I have gone. Could I push myself so far I could not feel anything sexually ever again? I decided to go to a local sex club and watch people having sex. That has always been a huge turn on for me. It would make me want to be in the mix, join them and have it myself. It was like being with them inside there. I would be giving myself the ultimate test. Would I be able to not be able to resist those feelings that urge or the desire for more. I would be torturing myself in the presence of other people and they would never know it was happening. I set myself out to prepare for the event.

I wore the worst outfit that would almost make me stand out in front of anyone, I didn’t do anything with myself. I went as natural as possible. I didn’t wear any makeup for almost a year or more now. I didn’t do anything to make myself stand out or be attractive in any way shape or form. I blended in and wasn’t noticed. I have practiced this over and over for many years before. This is was part of my own test. I wore hair bands all over my body. Arms, ankles, wrists, hair pulled tight, I tied them together around my legs. I suffered the whole time internally and kept the mental list of things I would do if any thought, feeling, and sensation of fantasy, would happen. I planned if I was approached. I planned if I was not able to leave until a designated time. I couldn’t just walk out until I tested myself on all the areas that I had thought of.. and them some.

I went to the Halloween party. People dressed in sexy costumes, sexy alluring women, men, couples, lots of things to arouse yourself. I openly walked around, observed every person. I watched each couple have sex and felt nothing. I was not even turned on by anything or anyone. It was like I was immune to to it all. Nothing penetrated inside. It was as if I was not even there. I was invisible and walled in from any feelings or emotions. I was programmed to not even react inside or outside. I trained myself completely.

I achieved it without anyone even knowing. I walked out at my designated time and felt nothing. I was completely without emotion or feeling. I was just a body and a mind. It was my perfect moment. I was not only proud of my own training. I celebrated the whole way home by removing my bands and listening to the radio. I had avoided it for almost two years to avoid temptation of thoughts. It was foreign to listen to the volume. I switched back to talk radio. I got a headache on the way home.

Final Day:

I never planned on taking it for a two 2 year period of self induced chastity. I never believed I could take myself so far. It was a daily struggle that turned me into who I am today. I finally allowed myself to masturbate. When I did finally allow myself to cum. It wasn’t as earth shattering as I thought. It took a few times to actually feel the wave of pleasure once again. I had to try several times. I then let myself have multiple orgasms. I spent the day in my room alone with the door locked. It was my own induced pleasure. I started ordering myself to start dating to have sex again Why? Because if I could do this what else could I do? I almost missed the nightly ritual of self induced bad thoughts and self torture. I had to keep reminding myself over and over that it’s over. End game, period !! That is the hardest part to let go of. It’s been a 4 months since my own release I still have to de-program myself to NOT do it anymore. But habits are hard to break.

In an ironic twist of fate.. I started dating a guy who introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle. I didn’t even know anything about it. I always thought it was gay thing. He has opened my eyes to things and feelings. I have now found what I have always been doing to myself for years. It's like home in so many ways. I feel a nice mix of guilt and submission to someone and something. It comforting to know that I am not the only one who does this and enjoys the mind games we play with ourselves. I have learned to play the game with someone else too. I have found someone who is more like me than I could have ever thought. I am thrilled with the prospect of becoming something to someone else that is pleasurable and painful at the same time.

He told me one time during play.. my next wife will wear a chastity belt. I melted and orgasmed instantly. He has no idea why. It was said in fantasy play. I would do it and be very happily able to be at someone else’s control. I did it myself for all these two years and never felt it was normal in any way. I also have found a new desire to be a key holder for someone else too. I know the mind game you play with yourself. The way you get excited by anything else that isn’t related your loins. I could live in a world where I am not anything else but someone else’s idea of what they want me to be.

I am now in the throes of finding myself sexually all over again and want to test everything out. I want to feel and experience all the things that are out there. I have been awoken sexually and mentally, again, all because someone introduced me to what I have been doing all my life. I owe him more than he ever knows. I am now in a new role and I crave the attention even more. I can see why torture and punishments are given. It feels all too right and nothing else is more blissful and mind stimulating.

I have conditioned and trained myself beyond anything I have ever encountered before. I cannot ever go back to a vanilla word anymore. I am past the point of broken. I am new again.

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23.02.13

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