From the very beginning this shopping trip was quite a tormenting experience. Sometimes it's very easy to imagine that Goddess has control of a whole army of minor deities, other beautiful girls She sometimes puts in my way just to torment me.
On the way to the bus stop to go into town I found Goddess had put three Asian girls ahead of me. It was an unseasonably mild day and they were almost dressed for summer. They all had long, gleaming jet-black hair. They were walking three abreast across the pavement and there was traffic so I couldn't overtake them. I stayed behind them at a respectful distance. They were walking quite slowly, much slower than the warp speed I generally charge around at. The girl on the right kept fluffing her hair out. She'd dig the fingers of both hands into it and really go for it. Then she'd shake her head from side to side. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in full-bodied waves of gleaming softness. Every couple of minutes she seemed intent on showing me just how beautiful her hair was. When we arrived at the bus stop the girls stood in a little group in front of me, but closer now. A slight breeze picked up, blowing their shining hair about in the sun. They were standing in profile to me now. They were all beautiful.
I have a strong fetish for girls' beautiful long hair. I always instinctively knew that girls were somehow superior to me and I gradually came to understand that I would never deserve to have one. Later I realised this was the expression of my latent submissiveness. A girl's beautiful long hair is the most visible outward expression of her softness and sensuality and it's come to symbolise for me all her sensual and erotic power, her desirability and inherent superiority and my inferiority and unworthiness. At the same time as it's very beautiful to look at it always stirs my longing for what I know I don't deserve and can never have. It can be deeply tormenting.
I once had on my staff at work a particular Asian girl. She was quite tiny but she had the most beautiful glossy black hair I've ever seen. It fell to just below her shoulders and was full of soft curls and lay inches deep. I've never seen hair that shone like hers. I can only imagine how fabulously silky and soft it was. She washed it every morning and her hair always smelled as gorgeous as it looked. It was mesmerising. I longed to touch it, to bury my face in it! It was so completely distracting that whenever I was around her I could barely function as her supervisor.
Before I started shopping I'd planned to have a haircut. I had to wait a few minutes but while I was waiting Goddess had arranged for a girl to be having her freshly washed and conditioned hair blow-dried almost right in front of me and only a few feet away. Just for good measure the salon was so arranged that I could watch the whole process from beginning to end without upsetting anyone - except myself. Thus I was able to see the beauty of the gradual transformation from dark ropes of damp hair to beautiful light brown hair, full and very soft, spreading across the girl's back and falling half way down it.
After my haircut I went shopping. As it was a weekday and still before noon the city centre wasn't too crowded. The streets seemed to be predominantly filled with young people; more pretty, desirable and unattainable girls, more beautiful long hair. I began in a bookshop. I was browsing when I suddenly found myself staring into the depths of a thick mane of glossy chestnut hair. One of the assistants had stopped right in front of me to replace some books on the shelves. Her gorgeous hair reached almost to her waist. She was there for several seconds before she finished and straightened up and I was suddenly looking right at her face as she came past me. She was beautiful and for a second I was completely transfixed by her and couldn't take my eyes off her face. She must have thought I was trying to catch her eye. "Are you alright there, sir?" she said, changing course slightly to move towards me. "Do you need any help with anything?" I said something about being "Fine, thanks," and she carried on. After that they were everywhere; girls shopping with their girlfriends, standing around in little groups, all with long soft hair, blonds, brunettes, redheads, and everything in between; Asian girls and oriental girls with cascading gleaming black hair. And each one of them making me feel my inferiority that little bit more.
And so it went on; in all the shops I visited and out on the street the steady succession of reminders of the superiority of beautiful girls, and my inferiority before all of them, went on building. At the same time the ache of hopeless longing and the physical ache in my chastised balls increased too.
With Christmas shopping done I still had some food shopping to do. On the way to the supermarket I saw again the hair-fluffing Asian girl from the bus stop. Goddess had colonised the supermarket with her oriental agents who are mostly operating undercover as overseas students. Ahead of me in every aisle I went down was a beautiful girl or a group of beautiful girls with long silky jet black hair hanging down their backs.
Inferiority. Longing. Aching...
When it was time for home I'd lost count of the number of times a beautiful girl had reminded me of my inferiority and her superiority, but even then Goddess and Her agents hadn't finished with me. The only free seat left on the bus was immediately behind an Oriental woman with masses of glossy black hair. Masses of gorgeous glossy silky soft jet black hair two feet in front of me. I thanked Goddess for my chastity.
If I wasn't in chastity I'd very probably have tried to relieve my feelings by masturbating when I got home. But beautiful girls are gifts to the world. They deserve to be honoured, admired and adored, not jerked off to by random losers who will always be inferior to them. Unless it's what she wants, or it's specifically at her command and for her amusement, jerking off over a beautiful girl is simply disrespectful and insulting and no way to honour her superiority. My chastity signifies my ownership by Goddess Valentine. It also tacitly acknowledges my inferiority to beautiful girls everywhere. For that reason being locked in chastity is where I belong. And it's only right that unless it pleases Goddess to release me it should be permanent.
