Life with the belt

Life with the belt was hard.

To start with, you have to completely change your wardrobe. With pants no longer being an option, you are **** to wear the handful of skirts and dresses you own everyday. You spend half your pay check buying more in hopes that one of the styles would disguise the belts bulk. None do.

Even worse than your clothing troubles, stairs are next to impossible. If the steps are short, then you can sort-of shuffle up them awkwardly, but anything more than the few inches that the bars give you and you have to find another way up. The most embarrassing day happened when the elevator in your apartment building broke down, and you had to sit down and push yourself up the stairs backwards like a small child. You live on the third floor and you are certain all your neighbors saw you.

Going to the bathroom is a messy affair that takes twice as long as before. The grate you piss through always makes splatters all over the place and the spikes around the anal opening are still covered in shit no matter how well you clean them. Why do you even need spikes their? You question internally every trip to the bathroom. It isn’t like you can get pregnant from anal sex.

God you miss sex. You’ve tried using a vibrator to get some sort of sensation, but there is something about the strange material the belt is made out of. No matter how high you turn up the speed, the vibrations are just canceled out.