So... the hands. The ultimate chastity contrivance. I watched as he forged. It required many days as opposed to the fabrication of my rings and breast spikes. I was not sure of his intent but there came this strange comfort... limited pain to be endured... contrasted by a sense of denial. It was evident the large lumps he hammered and bent would not be utilized to pierce me. This brought a sense of relief... yet such was superficial. The ordeal of the piercings... eight times my body penetrated with white hot shards... had brought catharsis... agonizing to the point of bringing unconsciousness... but cathartic relief... like being expunged of something... my lust tamed... made to submit. Perhaps the red headed step child deserved the beatings... desired the beatings... craved the beatings.
