At first, my internal muscles fought them, striving to expel the invasive objects, but the leather belt was locked around my waist to prevent that. Denied relief by the tight strap that cinched my ass crack, the muscles tired and relaxed, accepting the inevitable. The painful urgent need to be rid of the ever growing plugs that tormented me during the first days eventually became no more than a minor distraction. No one seemed to notice when I sat side saddle at my desk, and if I walked with a bit of stiffness, they probably thought I was merely being prim.
Bitch walks like she’s got something up her ass.
At least the designer of this unchastity belt had thoughtfully divided the crotch strap so that it merely framed my puss instead of covering it. I could pee, awkwardly, holding my lips
