codes: MF

By Robert White

My most eye-catching model, who had been a mainstay at my
photography studio for the past four years, recently quit to pursue the
next phase of her life, so the Monday following her departure I called an
agency I frequently work with and asked them to please send over their
premo model. That's how I met Zola.

She knocked on my studio door promptly at 10:00 a.m. on Tuesday. Zola
is a pixie. She is shorter and thinner than I like my models but she has an
exotically sensuous face, long black hair that cascades around her
shoulders, and the natural grace and movement of a jungle cat. Not the
girl-next-door type unless you lived in the middle of a forest, but she
would definitely do.

After establishing that I needed some nude shots of her for my files, she
quickly secreted herself behind the folding screen located in the corner
of my studio that functions as a make-shift changing room.

Generally when the model steps behind the screen, she will promptly
remove her clothing and step back into sight completely nude. But when
Zola stepped out from behind the screen, she was not completely nude,
not in a technical sense, since she was wearing this inverted metal
triangle between her legs. At least it looked to me like an inverted metal
triangle, held in place by slim metal straps that were bent so precisely to
the contours of her body that they appeared to fluidly wrap around her
instead of rigidly encompassing her in a type of locked cage that
obviously would be impossible to remove without the key to the lock that
secured the contraption to her body. She looked up at me.

"It's a chastity belt. I made it myself. Do you like it?"

"I didn't know such a thing existed."

"You've never heard of a CB?"

"Well, yeah, in stories about the middle-ages. But I've never seen one."

"I always wear a chastity belt when I model. I'm a virgin at this moment
and I plan to still be one at the end of the day."

I just continued to stare at the strategically positioned metal devise that
protected her womanhood with what appeared to be an impenetrable
barrier. Then I looked into her face.

"Have you had problems with photographers you've posed for wanting

"What do you think?"


Yeah. It would make sense to you, too, if you could have seen her taut
animalistic body topped off by her cute elfish face.

"I also wear a CB when I go on a date. That way, if the mood is right, I
can get naked with a total stranger, all the time knowing that, no matter
what, I'll still be a virgin at the end of our encounter."

"Is there anyway I can get you to take that thing off?"

"Sure. But you'll have to put on a CB first. And I'll have to keep the key."


"Don't worry. I've made lots of CBs. I'll just have to take your
measurements. I'm sure I have one that'll fit you."

"That's okay."

So I continued the session by photographing her in the chastity belt and
the photos turned out marvelously exotic. She proved to be one of the
best models I've ever worked with, even though I considered her more
than a little kooky. Especially when she insisted on measuring me
through my clothing just before leaving the studio. She said it was just in
case I wanted her to model for me again.

And the next week I found myself calling the agency and asking if they
could send "Zola" back again. They said she was one of their more
popular models but she was available the following Friday afternoon.

Once again Zola was on time. This time she walked in carrying a large

"I brought a CB that will fit you. Trust me. I've had a lot of experience
fitting these things."

I couldn't believe the contraption she brought out.

"You mean you want me to take my clothes off and put that thing on?"

"Oh, no. I brought one that big enough to go over your clothes. Of course
it's more comfortable with nothing on underneath it. But you only need to
wear it if you want me to pose nude."

"That's still your rule?"

That's still my rule. And it's my rule because it works 100% of the time."

I reached over and took the device from her. The chastity belt was lighter
weight than it appeared and padded on the inside. Also, the hinges
worked smoothly and it only had one lock, identical to the one she had
posed in last week.

"How does this go?" I wrapped the hinged part around my waist.

"That's right. Now, bring that strap between your legs."

I did and it all snapped together. It was tight, really tight, as it
compressed my pants into my crotch.

"Now would you like to try it without your clothes in the way? That will
definitely be more comfortable."

I walked over to the mirror. The belt covered me like metal swim trunks.

"Sure. Why not?"

She produced a key and as she stood next to me, she ran her hand over
the part of the belt that was covering my cock. Just a quick up and down
motion before she inserted the key in the lock and twisted it.

"There. I'm anxious to see you in my belt."

So, chastity belt in hand, I walked behind the screen and removed my

"Don't cheat," Zola called out. "Your cock goes down and to the back,
between your legs."

"That's what I figured." I wrapped the belt around my waist. "Should I go
ahead and lock it?"

"That's the idea. You lock yours before I unlock mine."
I strolled from behind the screen, and pivoted in front of her as if I were
the model and she were the photographer. As it turned out, the chastity
belt fit quite comfortably.

"It fits very well on you. I knew it would. Maybe next time I'll bring one with
a cock-tube."

"What's that?"

"I think you can figure it out."

Then, true to her word, she completely disrobed, coming out from behind
the screen and unlocking the chastity belt in front of me, carefully
unfolding it from her body as if she were peeling off a G-string on the
stage of a strip joint.

And I was clicking away with the camera, not missing a second of it.
This time it was an even more sensational session. When I had finished
and she had redressed, she picked up her bag and appeared ready to

"What about your belt I'm wearing? Aren't you going to unlock it so I can
take it off?"

"No, I think I'll just let you wear it. That way when you call me to pose for
you the next time, you'll already have it on. And if you ever want it off, I
know you'll call me back."

"But I can't wear it until next week."

"I once wore a belt just like that for three months. Never took it off once. I
can tell you from experience, you'll get used to it."

With that she waved to me and quickly left. I would have followed her but
didn't feel like exposing myself in a chastity belt to the world and by the
time I got my clothes on over the belt and got down the stairs to the
street, she was nowhere in sight.

It's a good thing I live alone. I mean, how would I explain the chastity belt
to a roommate?

And having that belt on over the weekend really kept my mind focused on
Zola and her beautiful, photogenic body. She was playing a game with
me, but to what end?

And there was always a chance, a good chance, that she played it with
every man she met.

Wednesday afternoon and Zola was back in my studio.

"Zola, I'm ready to get this thing off. I even have to sit down to pee with it
on. I'm not used to that."

"Can you say please?"

"Please, Zola, please."

"Okay. As soon as we're through with today's session."

"Don't you trust me yet?"

"I haven't remained a virgin this long based on trust. And, Mister
Photographer, it doesn't matter that my agency sheet says I'm
twenty-four. I'm still a virgin and, between you and me, I'll never see thirty

Yeah. I noticed the twenty-four on the sheet the agency sent over. And
looking at her I figured, "Okay, so she fudged a couple of years." I mean,
that body, that face, that raven hair. There was no way I could believe that
she was over thirty.

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're a great model. You're a virgin.
You're over thirty. And you work with metals making chastity belts.
Anything else I should know?"

"Sure. There's lots more to me than that but that's for you to find out."

This time she didn't bother to use the screen. Instead, she walked over to
the radio sitting on my workbench and fiddled with the dial until she found
some hot pulsating music and then bumped and ground her way out of
her clothes. Again, I was clicking the whole time.

"Do you want me with or without the belt today?"

"You can leave yours on. Here, take the belt off me, please." I sat on a
stool that I often used for the model and pulled my pants off. In the
meantime she fished the key out of her bag.

She walked over, ran her hand over my metal-covered crotch again, and
then unlocked the lock and watched as I removed the belt and attempted
to massage some life back into my numb cock.

As I put my pants back on, she said, "I'm sure the little feller will come
back to life in an hour or two."

Then she walked over to the jungle set I had concocted in the corner of
my studio and started striking poses.

This was the best session yet. She practically melted down my cameras.
However she did it, she generated the much sought-after "Model
Power." It radiated from her body, passed through the camera's lens,
and etched itself onto a roll of film. As for the few abilities I possess as a
photographer, I didn't need them when Zola was in front of the lens.

When we were finished, I decided to blurt out what I had been thinking all

"You're a fantastic model, Zola. I've always made it a rule to keep a
distance between myself and my models, but . . ."

"I've heard it before, Mr. Photographer. In my case you wish to make an

"Well, yeah."

"Stop by my house on Friday, seven o'clock. I'll have a surprise ready.
And you can meet a couple of my friends."

"Where do you live?"

"Here." Like a magus, she produced a card, seemly out of mid-air, and
handed it to me.

"Don't be late. Oh, and don't bother to dress up. I have everything you'll
need at my place."

With that she turned and was down the stairs and out of my studio before
I could pick my jaw up off the floor and get my mouth closed.

© 2007 Robert White

To Be Continued

Robert  lives by himself in the USA and likes to watch bondage videos