So I got into self-bondage when I was quite young. My parents were pretty lax about supervising on the internet, and it didn't take me long to find my prefered flavour of porn.

Once you get going you discover other things and you sorta progress. So I fumbled with self-ties when I was home alone in my parents' house, then progressed to a timed safe while at uni. Then once employed, and living alone, I started mailing keys to myself.

Now for me, a big part of it was the denial. Having to wait for release, before being able to masturbate. So progression into chastity play seemed natural.

A hidden bonus of chastity belts is they can be worn under your street clothes. Obviously nothing skin tight. But a full skirt and a woollen jumper and nobody is the wiser.

So my favourite way to play these days is to post keys second class to myself, just before the weekend. I'd be in the belt before I did this and would only post the keys when I was on the verge of letting myself out to have a frantic fap. Usually on a Thursday, so the keys may, or may not, arrive Monday.

Now I don't post the keys to my chastity belt. I have two but I don't want to risk losing even one. So I post the keys to a really heavy padlock. I use this padlock to secure a strongbox in my study. I put the keys, all carefully labelled in this box. That way if anything goes wrong I need only force open the box to gain access to all the keys.

So I posted the keys off Yesterday. I've been in the belt three days already. I've also locked my favourite slave collar on and have a full set of padlocks open and waiting for the weekend.

Work was the usual office grind. I get a wee bit of a thrill that nobody knows I'm belted and collared under the chunky white polo necked sweater I'm wearing. On the drive home I'm thinking of nothing but the fun I'm going to have over the weekend.

Then I turn into my street to be met with a police car blocking the road and a fire engine parked outside my house. Panic! I abandon the car and run down the street. I'm stopped by the law halfway there. As I sob a portly officer explains it's actually a robbery. The thief setting the house aflame to cover their tracks. Luckily for me, a neighbour spotted the flames and the fire brigade arrived quickly.

I sit in the cab of the fire truck drinking a cuppa from a neighbour wondering what I'm going to do. A policeman arrives and says it's safe to go in. He follows me in so I can tell him what's missing.

The front room is ruined. Soot everywhere and everything soaked from the firemen's prompt action. The TV and the Xbox are missing. The hall and kitchen are smoke-stained and equally damp. The kitchen is untouched but the microwave oven and the espresso machine are gone.

Upstairs has some smoke damage but is mostly dry thank God. The jewellery box is missing. I die of embarrassment in my spare room. The ballet boots, the gag and the leather hood are still laid out on the bed. Along with the handcuffs, shackles and the large pile of chains. The policeman is polite and matter of fact about them. Kindly saying that he has seen all sorts and it's nothing to be ashamed of.

In the office my outdated PC is absent. Then I notice. The strongbox is gone. All the keys, each one labelled and placed in an envelope, were lost. I couldn't bring myself to tell the policeman. I was trapped in the belt. I was locked in a slave collar, and I couldn't get free.

Later that night I sit in my bed and wonder what can I do? There are no padlocks to chisel. Both collar and belt are snug and close-fitting which would preclude cutting with saw or flame. Am I trapped forever?

Then the phone rang. It was gone midnight, who could it be? I lifted the receiver, "Hello?"

"I've been going through the envelopes in the box," said a woman's voice. "I don't remember seeing a chastity belt or a slave collar on the bed."

I said nothing. Fear gripped me.

"You're already locked in them aren't you?"

I was still frozen with fear.

"If you want the keys back you must answer me. Are you in them now?"

"Yes," I squeaked.

"Hmm, not good enough. I hold the keys to your belt and your collar. Try again and show some deference."

Oh my God! I was so screwed.

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Much better, slave."