Saving Herself (Ch. 01-06)

Saving Herself

A Female-Led Chastity Novel

By Quinn Klaxon

Marla Brown tells everyone at the office that she's saving herself for marriage, but her boyfriend seems to be taking his sweet time to propose. Devin, the cubicle neighbor she has spent two years correcting, has his doubts.

He has always had a thing for Marla but kept his distance. One afternoon, feeling bored and mischievous, he sends her a photograph of a steel chastity device and tells her that he's "harmless." Marla thinks about reporting him to HR but instead takes him to the supply room and locks the door. When she demands an explanation, he confesses that his ex-girlfriend has held his chastity keys for nine months and will only relinquish them to someone she considers a worthy keyholder.

Marla considers taking his keys and discovers that she doesn't have to break the promise she has kept to herself since college, because a man who can't finish can't finish inside her.

Saving Herself is a female-led chastity novel about a woman who has spent her adult life keeping men from finishing, and what she becomes once she has the hardware for it.

CHAPTER 1

It was a quiet afternoon in the office when Marla, Devin's annoying cubicle neighbor, popped her head around the divider. Her blouse did little to constrain her large breasts. She leaned against the barrier and sneered, "Did you hear that Laura and John slept together? She's such a whore. Are there any men in this office that haven't been between her legs?"

"I haven't," muttered Devin, barely looking up from his computer screen.

Marla gave a haughty sniff of doubt. The judgmental glint in her dark eyes was unmistakable. "Well, isn't that a surprise," she blurted, adjusting her blouse and crossing her arms. "I suppose there's hope for you yet," she continued. "It's a wonder how these office romances ever work out. Makes me glad I'm waiting for the sanctity of marriage before I... well, you know."

Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. Her cheeks flushed deep pink, as she glanced around to make sure no one overheard. She quickly changed the subject with a gossipy lilt, "Did you see the email from HR about the dress code? They might as well have put my picture next to the definition of appropriate office attire." She snorted and smoothed her skirt. "But then again, not everyone can pull off this look, right?" She looked Devin over. He wore a pair of casual jeans and a T-shirt. She raised her eyebrow in silent critique.

Her cubicle was next to his, so he had heard it all before. In Marla's eyes, she was above everyone else and could be insufferable about it. The truth was that Devin felt sorry for her. She was clearly fishing for a compliment. "You look, ummm, nice," he responded, paying only half attention.

Marla raised an eyebrow and curled her lips with a smirk. "I look nice?" she said. "That's something you say when you have nothing nice to say."

She haughtily placed her hands on her hips and pressed her chest forward. The weight of her breasts strained against the fabric of her long-sleeve top. Her skirt fit snugly around her thighs. She wasn't a skinny girl. She had nice curves that secretly drew Devin's attention. Her social skills might be lacking, but Marla had a pretty face with rosy cheeks and nice legs that she liked to show off during office meetings. Her breasts were full and round. He imagined that she probably had to shop online for bras large enough to harness them. Whatever support they provided, they did nothing to conceal her nipples, which remarkably stood erect through the heaviest sweaters.

Paying no mind to Devin's lack of attention, Marla carried on, "Coming from you, I guess that's a huge compliment," she added. "Not that I'm dressing for anyone's approval."

Devin glanced up to see Marla looking perturbed. She adjusted her pearl necklace, which disappeared into her cleavage. "I dress for myself and Randall," she said smugly. "Modesty is a virtue. You should try it sometime."

Devin smiled and tried to keep from staring at her chest.

Always one to get the last word, Marla clarified, "And for the record, 'nice' is how you refer to a sensible pair of shoes, not a person."

Devin hadn't meant to hurt her feelings, but clearly he had. Trying to repair the damage, he responded, "I think you're sexy, but you didn't hear that from me. I don't want any trouble from HR."

Marla blinked and parted her lips in surprise. His comment disarmed her. Her cheeks turned a shade of red. She adjusted her glasses and scrambled for a witty comeback. "I... uh... I wasn't fishing for a compliment." She cleared her throat and tugged at the hem of her skirt. "I appreciate the thought, but let's not forget that we're at work." She glanced around nervously to make sure their conversation was out of earshot. "Besides, I'm not sure what you expect in return for that kind of talk," she whispered.

She turned away and went back to her cubicle. Sitting in her chair, she stared at her computer and tried to focus, but Devin's words rattled her. Feeling uneasy about the exchange, Devin leaned over their shared partition wall and apologized. "You're right," he said. "I shouldn't have said that, but your secret is safe with me."

"What secret?" Marla sounded alarmed.

"That you're sexy!" Devin whispered. He hoped his admission would make her happy, but instead she looked upset. Worried that he crossed a line, he added, "You should know that I'm totally harmless. I couldn't do anything about it, even if I wanted to."

He could see her confusion and finished with, "I'm sorry to be coy, but I can't tell you why." Then, he sat down and got back to work.

Marla felt bewildered by Devin's comments. Her eyes narrowed, as she tried to decipher his meaning. "Totally harmless? Couldn't do anything about it, even if he wanted to?" She had no idea what he meant and concluded that he was just messing with her. She sat quietly at her desk and fumed.

After forty-five minutes of typing and retyping a memorandum, she walked into his cubicle and sternly asked, "What does that even mean?"

Devin looked up. Her question caught him off guard. "What does what mean?"

She stood in front of his desk with her arms crossed and paraphrased, "You said you couldn't do anything about it but can't tell me why? What on Lord's Earth are you talking about?"

Devin considered answering but thought better of it. Besides, he didn't owe her an explanation.

"Whatever!" she said dismissively. "You make no sense. We should focus on work anyway." She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. "I've got a lot to do before the weekend," she announced. Her curt tone ended the awkward exchange. She returned to her computer and clicked away at her keyboard.

Devin thought about their interaction. Part of him enjoyed toying with her. She was easily perturbed and had no problem dishing out unsolicited criticism, but he wondered how far he was willing to go to amuse himself. He tried to focus on work but after spending the afternoon ogling Marla's figure, he was sufficiently aroused. Feeling emboldened, he signed onto his private email account, the one he discreetly used for his online perversions, and rifled through a few bookmarks. Reaching a site called Mature Metal, a kinky online store, he clipped a photo of a steel chastity device. Without putting much thought into potential consequences, he sent it in a text message to Marla's phone, under the pseudonym Locked Boy.

Marla's phone buzzed quietly. Her screen lit up with an incoming message. Typically, she ignored texts from unknown numbers, but after jousting with Devin, she didn't feel quite herself and let her curiosity get the best of her. Her jaw dropped, when she opened the image. It left little to the imagination. "What the heck?" she thought. Her cheeks felt flushed and warm. She looked around to make sure no one was watching and stared at the photo. It had to be from Devin, and she didn't appreciate being toyed with.

Stepping over to confront him, she whispered, "What on Earth? Explain yourself, mister!" She held her phone with the screen facing Devin. "And don't you dare tell me it's a mistake. You said you're harmless. Is this what you meant?"

Devin shrugged his shoulders and smiled. They stared at each other for a minute, not knowing what to say. Finally, she turned back to her desk. Making sure no one could see her phone screen, she typed, "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but it's highly inappropriate!" Her cheeks burned with indignation.

She set her phone down and tried to clear the image from her mind, but her hands trembled for reasons she couldn't explain. She had never seen a chastity device in person but had a friend named Rachel who loved to share depraved details of her sex life, including the story about catching her boyfriend cheating with the next-door neighbor. Her solution was to lock him in a cock cage and flush the keys down the toilet! She expected that kind of thing from Rachel, but Devin?

Truth be told, Marla had never been a perfect angel. She reminisced about her sorority house at a Catholic university, where the sisters convinced themselves that first, second and third base were permissible in the eyes of God, as long as they remained virgins. It was a distinction she had never entirely stopped making. Her virginity had been her most prized possession, right up until the night in college when it wasn't. She was dead serious about saving herself for marriage and felt no reason to tell her boyfriend Randall all of her secrets.

She sat at her desk with clenched fists. Devin's chastity photo consumed her thoughts. She discreetly opened her phone to look at it again. Her heart rate quickened, and her legs felt weak. She put the phone down and silently cursed herself. "The devil's work," she thought. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and tried to rid herself of the feeling, but the rest of the workday was a tangled mess of confusion and a persistent tingling between her legs.

Devin had trouble concentrating also. As much as he wanted to write off his behavior as harmless fun, he knew it was inappropriate. Even worse, his text could be grounds for dismissal, if anyone traced it back to him. Filled with dread, he kept to himself the rest of the afternoon. Running through it again and again, he decided the best course of action was to say nothing.

Their tense silence lingered. Marla made more than the usual passes by Devin's cubicle, casting furtive glances in his direction. At her desk, she tapped nervously on her keyboard. Her usual efficiency was derailed by fumbling keystrokes. She couldn't help stealing peeks at her phone, wondering if he would send another message.

At the end of the day, Marla gathered her things. On her way out, she hesitated but looked in Devin's direction. Taking a deep breath, her chest rose and fell impressively. "Devin," she said quietly, "we need to talk."

Devin set aside his paperwork and leaned back in his chair. "Alright, Marla. What do you want to talk about?"

She stood in the entrance of his cubicle and clutched her bag. Gathering her thoughts, she said in a hushed voice, "That picture... I don't appreciate you sending that kind of thing, especially at work. It's disrespectful and certainly not Christian."

Devin waited until she finished.

"You don't get to send something like that and just sit there." She spoke in an intense whisper. "I know what that photo is. A friend of mine... oh, never mind. The point is that you sent it to my personal phone, after talking about being harmless." She crossed her arms, pulling her blouse tautly across her chest. "Was it a confession, or were you just trying to shock the office prude?"

Devin sat in silence. His text had been impulsive and reckless. He could see that now but didn't know how to remedy the situation.

"I know we've had our disagreements," Marla continued, "but we're co-workers and should keep our interactions professional." She seemed flustered with his lack of response. "Even if we weren't at work, it's wrong. I have a boyfriend and don't appreciate your cheap flirtations."

Devin thought for a moment before responding. "Flirtation?" he asked. "That wasn't my intention. I am sorry that I upset you."

"Well you did," she said. "And what was all that business about being harmless? You make no sense at all!"

Without considering the consequences, he blurted, "That was serious. I am completely harmless. I don't even have the keys."

Marla's eyes brightened with curiosity. Trying to understand his meaning, she repeated, "You don't have the keys? I don't understand. Why would you...?"

Her voice trailed off. She felt unable to grasp the situation. She looked away in thought and came back with, "Look, the bottom line is that we work together and need to maintain professional boundaries."

She turned on her heels and strutted away. Devin knew he had made an even bigger mess of things. His eyes focused on Marla's curvy figure disappearing into the dimly lit office hallway. He turned back to his computer and cursed himself for sending the photograph. Maybe he was being flirtatious. He had always wondered what she might be like in bed. He tried to quiet the thought, so that he could finish his spreadsheet.

Marla walked to the elevator, confused as ever. As wrong as Devin's text felt, she couldn't deny her intrigue. "What a day!" she thought. Waiting for the elevator, she muttered, "I need to pray on this," and signed a cross over her chest. She exited the office and clicked along the sidewalk in her sensible heels. She had a lot to reflect on before church on Sunday, and she intended to start over a glass of wine at McNulty's with everyone else.