There I am, pumping away on my cock, when Aladdin and his magic lamp cross my mind. He rubs his lamp and suddenly a genie appears, allowing him three wishes. One of my wishes was: Please, dear genie, please release me from this horrible habit of masturbating! I smile to myself and pump on.
Hey, what’s that fizzing sound? I stop. Suddenly the whole room is filled with wisps of smoke. There is a strange smell. Is something burning? I sit up and look about the darkness of the room. The smoke is glowing and all of a sudden it takes on a shape.
“Who are you?” I ask curiously.
“I am the Chastity Fairy,” comes the answer in a light sounding voice. This can’t be for real!
“You called for me! And here I am. You asked me to free you from your habit of masturbation! Your desire will be fulfilled!” says the apparition, the Fairy, with a sad voice.
I feel a fist boring into my abdomen. Is it because I am afraid of this strange apparition? Am I about to die? Am I having hallucinations?
My fingers feel around, trying to determine the cause of the pain in my belly and groin. They come upon something very hard and cold. It feels metallic, like steel, something that has been placed around my body.
“What is this?” I cry out, twisting on the bed as I try to reach the light switch.
“Whenever you can’t resist playing with yourself, this chastity belt will appear around your loins and your waist and will prevent you from doing so,” says the Fairy in a childlike voice.
“What?” I shout terrified. “This can’t be! I must be dreaming.”
“You called for me wanting to be released of the vice of masturbation. I’m here to ensure that your wish is granted,” the Fairy answers, a little angry. “I’ll explain the rules that will ensure your chastity, rules that will also help you make the chastity belt disappear again,” she continues ceremoniously.
“Yeah, right,” I say, “I know you’re only joking! Out with it. Tell me how to get rid of this thing, and then begone with you forever!” I shout at the Fairy.
“RULE 1: you must tell your wife the truth as to who locked you up in this chastity belt and why,” the Fairy starts.
“She’ll think I’m a certified nut. Anyway, rule 2? Tell me all of them.”
“RULE 2: only with your wife’s help can the chastity belt disappear.”
“Oh, so in future I’ll have to pay even more attention to her. Ha, ha. And how will she make the damned thing disappear?”
“RULE 3: the chastity belt disappears after your wife gives you fifty severe strokes on your buttocks and thighs with this paddle,” says she, holding up the heavy wooden instrument.
“Aw, come on. You don’t really mean that!! Corporal punishment in the twentieth century?! Now there’s a cheery thought.”
“RULE 4,” continues the Fairy.
“Even more rules? This is already quite enough!” I respond, shaking my head incredulously as I examine the paddle.
“RULE 4: the fifty strokes have to be applied to you by your wife within ten minutes.”
“Oh, god, that’ll be like a machine gun.”
“RULE 5: the fifty strokes have to be applied properly. Otherwise the chastity belt stays on.”
“And what if they’re not?” I ask curiously.
“RULE 6: if the fifty strokes have not been applied forcefully enough, they may be reapplied properly no sooner than one hour later.”
“Knowing my wife, she will have some fun with me first and practice on my bum for a few hours… I hope that’s it for the rules now.”
“RULE 7: if you or someone else tries to force open your chastity belt, it will give you terrible electrical shocks until the attempt ends and you submit to its control again.”
“Ow, that doesn’t sound very friendly. But it seems you’ve thought of everything.”
“RULE 8: I am granting you this wish for the rest of your life. I will thus be ensuring that you never masturbate again.”

(from "And I Had to Wish for a Genie!")

---

He saw little of the surroundings from his bent-forward position. He had to concentrate instead on not being sick from all the fast changes of direction.
“For heaven’s sake, what have I let myself in for?” he wondered. “How on earth did I get here?”
Just over six months ago he had been a simple part-time employee in a firm, a monotonous job with no promotion opportunities. He was shy, lacking the talent for speaking to women and, professionally, had no ability to elbow his rivals out of his way to get onto the gravy train. All the more grateful he had been then, when a dominant but kindly lady spoke to him at a BDSM party – a businesswoman, it transpired during the conversation. He was so glad that this BDSM party was more than the usual frustrating stuffing-yourself-full-at-the-buffet and watching-everyone-else-in-action, that he didn’t care that the lady made no moves to “treat” him in anything other than a friendly way. Although – she had already possessed a natural authority back then, during the conversation at the party and then later in bed at her home. It was natural superiority and leadership strength, giving him a feeling of safety and security which, initially, though, was a long way removed from what the average person understood by BDSM.

The car had obviously turned onto the motorway to Brno [Bruenn] in the meantime and was accelerating. His wrists and shoulders were hurting more and more, and the steel belt between his legs was also becoming unpleasantly noticeable in his bent-forward position. He shifted around restlessly wanting to find a more comfortable position and started to open his mouth to complain when he felt his “neighbour’s” hard grip in his hair.
“So, we’re getting cheeky and rebellious again, are we?” she asked ironically, pulling his head back painfully. After a long, searching look, she recognised, however, that he really was suffering. “If you keep really quiet after this, I’ll loosen the handcuffs a bit,” she said quietly, and not without sympathy. He nodded. She reached for the steel causing him the pain. There was a jerk, a click, and, with relief, he felt the painful pressure on his joints easing. She returned his grateful look with the silent but clear exhortation that he really should be quiet and good now.

His fiancée also wanted him to be quiet and good and passive. She taught him to lie on his back passively and gently while she rode him, and to subjugate his will to always actively control everything. To let it happen. She informed him of a responsible position of trust for him in her closest company – a position which turned out to be a hybrid between butler, private secretary and – he had reacted with indignation at first – “maid”.
“And of course you and your ‘male dignity’ don’t like that at all,” she had meant only slightly mockingly, and reached for his erect cock, sticking out stiffly and in strange contrast to the stockings and suspenders in which she had dressed him for the first time as a try-out. “Do you really think it looks proper for a maid’s skirt to bag out so much at the front?” She had reached for the telephone, laughing, and ordered information about chastity belts, while he fell with a resigned sigh onto the sofa.