Teases while in chastity

[Ms. Julie]

Yes, you need to work harder. Do the punishment and keep it in mind to help you so you don't fail next time.

[Jash]

There's a very large park on my way into work. It's a lovely, wholesome place filled with happy souls, old and young alike sharing in the joy of nature. Some use the area for sports, others for family picnics or just taking the kids out for a breath of fresh air.

What better place for me to wrap my balls in elastic bands and lurch about with a pained expression, periodically attempting to adjust myself while I think nobody's looking?

I parked up near the cafe on one side of the park. I grabbed a coffee. That gave me just enough time to really start to think about what I was about to do, and dread it all the more. I'd already experienced how painful just five minutes without moving anywhere would be, and my mind was working overtime to fill in the blanks.

Finally, I got up the courage to make my way to the toilet to 'prepare'. Had to be someone in the second stall of course, so I stood my ground until they left. The sounds of elastic bands accidentally snapping and shrieks of pain that were inevitable during the application process was not something I wanted to advertise to these wholesome family people.

That gave me another five minutes to think about what I was about to do.

Finally, the bathroom seemed empty. I set about my work.

First band, not as bad as I remembered. Second, getting worse.

By the time the third band went on, I was really starting to feel it. I sat and waited a few minutes during which time the bands must have reacted with my sweat, generated enough heat to keep an Alaskan family comfortable for two winters, and fused themselves to my scrotum.

It was searing. You could have fried an egg on there. I decided against offering that service in complement to the cafe's fare.

The route I'd picked was circular and was probably about 20 minutes at normal walking speed. Easily 30 at lurch-and-adjust pace. It meant that the further I got away from the toilets, the more committed I was to seeing the whole thing through. I certainly didn't want to end up one of those people who gets caught with their pants down in a bush claiming they really weren't masturbating, honest, they just needed to adjust their scrotal bands.

The pain was incredible. First and foremost, the intense, ever-present but continually-growing dull ache. Every step felt like being kicked in the groin by a mule.

Then the tugging. Bits inside me, designed for freedom and the right to live outside the oppressive rubber band regime, were not happy about being restrained and I could feel unidentified bits inside my torso tugged relentlesly.

The burning. Around half way in I'm sure my pants were about to sponaneously combust. The feeling kept growing for at least the first 20 minutes before levelling off to a heat merely consistent with the surface of a small sun.

Then the pinching. Even minute or so, the bands caught on some new, previously unaffected part of scrotum and lay into it trying to get it caught up on the pain the rest was suffering.

My imagination went into overdrive. I was convinced everyone I passed knew exactly what I was doing. The slightest chuckle from a pair of ladies, almost certainly just part of their own conversation as they passed me, immediately turned my face to a deep crimson perfectly matching my balls (though I didn't stop to check for absolute match).

I was betrayed by the Angry Cyclops once again despite his nearest neighbours' terrible suffering. He was quite happy to stand to attention throughout most of the lap. I'd worn my tight briefs this time to combat this, but it turns out they weren't as concealing as I thought and they just kept more pressure on the imprisoned family jewels, making mid-course corrections an even more lewd and obvious affair.

I was a wreck by the time I got back to the toilets. Thankfully nobody in there this time, so I could start gently trying to release myself immediately. It easily took ten minutes again to ease them off, and of course the only way to remove them is to pull on the elastic even more while the first loop of each band comes off. I had at least remembered to file down my nails so there was less chance of them catching during this process.

The three bands will now take pride of place hanging over my screen when I next attempt the tease as a very strong reminder of exactly what the consequences are if I fail to control myself. It is indeed a powerful deterrent. I never want to experience that again if at all possible.

In the meantime, I hope I'm not completely broken for my wife's return.

Jash

[Ms. Julie]

Perfect thank you. You did a good job punishing yourself. I enjoyed reading about it.