Five years ago, when I was 17, I and a group of college friends went on a holiday. The chosen place was a desert island in the Atlantic Ocean. We catch a motor boat and we sail for 3 hours. When we arrive, we are with a radio of communication for any emergency.
We set up the camping tents, we unpack the luggage, and we start in amusing ourselves. There were many pretty girls in the group, and as I had a pretty body, they looked at me very much. The island had many trees, and paths that led to the inward of the island, but the responsible teacher asked that the pupils not go into the forest. But as always, I liked adventures, I would not waste these 3 days, and I wanted to know the island.
Between the many strolls that I made, I found a cave that had a phrase written in the wall " was a happy man here " and just below it, there was a cardboard box that had something heavy inside. I was of a very curious age, and young enough not to see the danger of my acts, so I opened the box. It contained a metal device, with some chains and a tube of iron and also had a key and a handbook.
The handbook started thus: " For your happiness, use this object of pleasure and sex.... ". Following the instructions, I wrapped the band around my waist, placed my penis inside of a small tube, and then raised the smaller part holding the tube. It was all ready, lacking only the lock.
The handbook said " place the lock in it's place and lock it. If you do not like the sensation, use the key and it will unlock. I looked at the padlock for a moment, my hand sweating, and clicked the lock shut. Immediately, I was in agony, and tried to pull out of the belt, but it would not move, I tried to pull my penis out, but my fingers could not reach!
After this disagreeable experience, I caught the key of the padlock one. But as I said the inexperience of youth hindered my testing of the keys before, so when I placed it in the keyhole, I found it did not turn!
My God, it would not open!
I started to sweat cold, being very nervous. I pulled with all my force on the belt, but it would not be moved. I dispaired! How I would get this cursed thing off me?
I looked at the handbook of instructions again to see if it had something more, when I noticed the small print on the other side of the paper. The text read:
When reading this I placed my hands on the belt and started to cry at the same time that I tried to pull out of it. But crying was useless, I was unable to force myself out of it.
What could I do? I could not let the group see me this way. Especially the girls. I got dressed, and rejoined the group. They were worried, I made up a small fiction that I had fallen asleep on the beach.
The hours and days seemed centuries, I was very nervous about being discovered. I could not swim in the sea. I always wore pants and a shirt. In the bathroom I had to sit, my fear was very great.
On the island I did not have any tools, it impossible to escape from the belt, but I had hope that when I arrived back in the city I would leave this cursed belt. My friends found my resisting the charms of the women odd. But there was nothing I could do, I only felt the hard steel arresting any attempts of my penis trying to grow.
The great day of the return trip arrived. Because this turned out to be the worst trip of my life, it was with great joy when I got inside the boat.
When I got home, I went directly to my fathers garage, where I used his saw and tried to cut the belt. But it was too close to the skin and I could not cut it. I tried all the keys I could find, but nothing worked! I was overwhelmed with fear this belt would hinder my sexual pleasure in the best years of my life!
It could not call the locksmith, because he was a good friend of my father and tell him about the belt. The days if passed and I did not find any key that would fit the lock.
One day, I found on the Internet the site of the belt that I was wearing. I was very excited, and I sent an email explaining the history of my situation to the producer of the belt and asking him to send a key to me.
He wrote back with the reply:
I really have the keys for its belt, however, in accordance with the norms of the company, copies of the keys alone can be made for the owner of the belt, and you are not the owner. We suggest you wait the 8 years and get accustomed to wearing the belt... "
This was the reply of the proprietor. So for the last 5 years of my life I have been wearing this cursed thing, with only three more years to go. I hope the owner of the belt keeps his word and returns the correct keys to the island.
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Page last updated 00-Jan-26 by: Altairboy@aol.com