Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. A Hard Day's Work by lofwyrkp1@hotmail.com Codes Consensual BDSM (Incomplete) Today was going to be one hell of a long day, the first of many she suspected. She'd thought she knew what she had been letting herself in for, but he'd surprised her and how. This morning, she'd been awakened early be a courier. Hastily wrapping a robe around herself she'd swapped her signature for a smallish, heavy box, and a letter. She recognised his handwriting on the letter and eagerly ripped it open, curious as to what he'd written. She was vaguely aware of gasping as her eyes took in the contents of the letter. It seemed that she was to open the box, and use all the enclosed items on herself before heading off to work. Her fingers shook as she attacked the tape holding the box closed, she thought she knew how inventive his mind was, and was nervous about what she'd find inside. Sitting there, right on the top was a bra, but nothing like she'd seen before. It looked right out of a fetish video. It seemed to consist of nothing more than thin, flexible straps. Holding it up, and examining it closer, she saw just how fiendish it actually was. The cups, for want of a better word, were nothing more than two circles of rubber, which looked suspiciously small for her ample breasts. From these led the usual straps, well usual for a strapless bra that is. They didn't end in the usual hook and eye arrangement, but instead a slim spike, which would slide into the matching cylinder. Hanging off the cylinder was a note, which told her that this was a simple padlock, to which he held to only key. She realised that once she'd put the bra on, it wouldn't be coming off 'til he released her. Examining it closer, she saw that from the opening for her breasts, stretched four short straps ending in a metal ring, connecting them all. Swallowing heavily, she knew that the ring would slip over a nipple, gripping it tightly, and the rubber hoops would grip her breast tightly. From previous experience, she knew that they'd swell, blossoming in size, and that her flesh would get sensitive, very sensitive, so that the lightest touch would be the most exquisite torture. As she opened her robe in preparation she finally noticed that there was more. Welded to each of the rings were two small holders, holders for the bars that speared her nipples. She cursed, upon seeing the holders, he knew just how much she loved, feared having her nipples stretched. Although they would be incredibly sensitive, a direct line to her soul, they would also be incredibly uncomfortable, a constant reminder of both her arousal and her submission to his will. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the first nipple in to the ring, working the bar into the holder. She was panting by the time she'd finished her first nipple, the bar was being held almost a full inch from its normal resting place. The skin was so taught, so sensitive, the merest touch was both too much and not enough. Once she had them both done, squeezing her breasts into the rubber hoops wasn't too bad, apart from the fact that the straps that the rings around her nipples was almost too short. They bit into her skin, making her abused breasts swell even further. Letting out a long, slow breath, she brought the ends of the lock together, and almost without thought, she pressed the lock closed. Looking in the mirror she took stock of her breasts. They stood up, proud on her chest, not the slightest hint of droop. Her nipples were like two dark beacons atop her pale flesh. Her skin was flawless, stretched taught and way too sensitive. Next out of the box were two small halves of a ring, lined with soft rubber. They obviously snapped together, and upon closer examination, she saw they were similar to the lock that now held her bra closed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realise that they were meant to be clipped around her clit. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened her legs wide, and slipped her trembling hands between her moist lips. She wasn't surprised to find that she was incredibly horny, but she decided that she'd complete her exploration of the boxes contents before finishing herself off. Her fingers eagerly sought out the centre of her pleasure, and before she could think about it, she carefully centred her clit between the rings, and snapped them closed. There was a quiet little click, and it was done. She could feel the exposed part of her clit swelling, throbbing with an increased lust. She knew that if she were to toy with it, even for a moment she'd cum so hard, but she relished the feeling of being so near the edge, so eager to make it, she stopped herself, but only just. She loved the way she felt right now, eager, desperate even, but knowing that she was in control of her desires. Next were two garters. She looked at them, trying to understand why they looked so different, and with a flash she realised that they had way too many clips on them, too many by far. Sliding one long leg into one, she arranged the clips around her thigh, not too surprised to find that there were three spare ones, lying along the inner part of her thigh. The clips were almost, but not quite long enough to reach her labia. Knowing that this was going to hurt a bit, she worked the garter a little higher, and then attached the clips to her lips. The pull on them was firm, not too strong, but strong enough for a full days wear. Once she'd done her other leg, she realised just how open and exposed she was. She seemed to feel every little draft, every breeze. The feeling of exposure was incredible. She felt so wanton, so sluttish; it was an incredible turn on even in her already aroused state. Last out of the box were three weights; she hefted them in her hand, trying to judge just how heavy they were. Only a couple of ounces each, but over a full day she knew they'd be feeling like they were pounds. The first two clipped to her nipple bars. Taking a deep breath, she started to attach them. She almost dropped them when she realized that they were little bells too. Oh My God she thought, if she wore these she'd have to be careful about walking, so as not to make any giveaway noise. The weight from her nipples wasn't too bad, even if they hung down a little. The stretching, the weights pulled both her breasts and nipples in very interesting ways! She thought she'd love this after all. The one for her clit however, it's attachment wasn't so obvious, not at first. That is until she realised that this weight screwed over the ring squeezing her clit. Looking at it closer, she realised that once the weight was attached, then her exposed clit would be covered and untouchable. No big deal she thought, I can always remove the weight when I need to bring myself off, and put it back when I'm finished. And with that thought, she slowly slipped it over the ring and tightened it. She could feel her clit being twisted, and it was almost enough to bring her to orgasm, but she tried to put it out of her mind, concentrating on getting the threads to match instead. A couple of turns, and it was almost seated properly, when she felt more than heard a faint click. Pausing, it wasn't repeated, so she ignored it, for now at least. Gingerly standing, she looked at herself again in the mirror. Her breasts were magnificent, big, swollen globes of tempting flesh, the nipples were hard as bullets, sticking out, dipping slightly from the weights that were attached. Running her fingers over them, cupping them, sent shivers through her, and when she gently touched her tortured nipples, she couldn't help but let out a low moan. Every tough, every caress sent erotic shivers through her, deepening her desire for release. Her opened pussy looked so inviting, so wanton. As she watched she saw a drop of her arousal slowly dripping off one stretched lip and running down her thigh. Oh how she wanted a good fucking right now, to be bent over, to be held down, her face buried in the bedclothes whilst he took her from behind, his cock savagely thrusting into her open pussy. And with that thought, she started to remove the weight from her clit so that she could bring herself some release. In shock she realised that it wouldn't undo. It wouldn't turn; all she was doing was twisting and pulling on her already swollen and tender clit. Desperately she looked into the box again, and there, right in the corner, all scrunched up and almost illegible was a note. She read it, and reread it, not taking it in. It seems that the clit weight was a lock too. She wasn't to put it on, unless she was sure that she wanted to be kept from her clit for the whole day. She leapt up, screaming in frustration, her weights ringing with the sudden movement. No, no, not for a whole day she cried. She was so desperate, no needy for release now, now not later. Though some small dark part of her mind told her being kept from relief was arousing her too. There was nothing to be done about it, apart from finishing her dressing, and getting through the day as best she could. She just hoped that her desperate need wouldn't be too obvious to all those at work. Glancing at the bed table clock, she realised that she'd have to hurry if she wasn?t going to be late. Unfortunately, now that she was entrapped by his creation, she knew it'd take a while to finish dressing. The stockings weren't a problem, attaching them to the garters was however. The stockings pulled on the garter, the garter on her labia. In her already aroused state, the increased pull was pleasant, but only just. She decided against knickers, somehow she knew that they'd spoil the effect. Instead she reached for her shortest work skirt. It came to just above the knee, sexy, but not too revealing. It did however had a decent spilt up the side, though it usually overlapped enough to stop too much thigh showing. Next would be a top, but here she was stuck. Her proud, bound breasts, jutted almost obscenely in front of her, her nipples extended by those fiendish rings, and what mage it even more difficult, there were those damn weights hanging from them. She started by trying on a loose blouse, something that wouldn't be pulled too tightly against her chest. Once it was on, she realised that it wouldn't do. Although it did manage to mostly cover up her adornments, the feel of the material as it slid across her way too sensitive nipples was distracting, very distracting. The feel of the blouse was centring all of her attention on her nipples, making her so very aware of how badly she wanted to cum. With a start she realised that she was cupping her bound breasts, rubbing her thumbs across the tips of her nipples, revelling in the feelings rushing through her. She wasn?t going to make it like this; unfortunately, all she was doing was turning herself on even further. She tore the top off, and tried a tight sheer top. This had the added advantage of trapping the weights, taking some of the strain off her tender nipples. It didn't shift as much, so her nipples weren't tormented as much. However, looking down at herself, she could see that her nipples were almost poking through the top. When she checked in the mirror, she could see almost every detail of her trapped nipples though the material. Shrugging, she set the bells to ringing gently, she tried on a jacket, this covered her up, but the weight of the jacket teased her nipples. Almost crying with frustration, she realised that there was no way that she was going to escape this devilish torment. She slid her dainty feet in to three-inch court shoes, the highest she could get away with, and took a final look in the mirror. She stood up to her full five foot eight inch height, more with the heels, and stared at what the mirror revealed. She could see that her face was slightly flushed, her eyes dilated with desire. Damn! Her dark red hair pulled back into a sexy ponytail, just reaching between her shoulder blades. Her shoulders looked broader, made more obvious by the way her breasts were being slightly pulled together. They jutted out, making her jacket hang open seductively. Luckily the jacket also covered the couple of spare pounds she was always promising herself that she?d have to loose. The skirt clung to her broad hips in a stylish but seductive way, and her calves, one of her strongest features she'd always thought, were emphasised by the heels she wore. Satisfied, she grabbed her keys, and left. Walking she found was tricky, the weight attached to her clit swung in time to each step, an insistent reminder of what she couldn't touch. Her breasts rubbed against her jacket, reminder her of their presence, as if she could forget. Walking as briskly as he could, she made her way to the bus stop. It wasn?t as quick as she?d have liked though. If she moved too fast, the weights started to jingle, sounding extremely loud to her ears. Also, her rapidly moving thighs pulled a bit too much on her labia, causing her to gasp with the added pull. Slowing to a brisk walk, she rounded the corner, and saw her bus just pulling up, cursing she knew she?d have to hurry, so gritting her teeth, she ran for the bus. The pull on her labia was almost too much, almost enough to make her wait for the next one, but she was already late, and didn't want to be in ever worse trouble. As she ran, first one labia then the other was pulled forward, and then back, stretching them with each step. She could feel the weighted bell bouncing off her thighs, moving in unpredictable ways. Luckily her breasts were so tightly trapped that they didn't seem to move, but her jacket did, slapping against the tips of her teased nipples. Each slap sending a new jolt of pleasure coursing through her. Panting, and not from just he run, she managed to slip onboard the bus. As she stood there, she was amazed to find that somewhere along the way, the pain had been turned into a new source of pleasure. The short bus trip wasn?t too bad, though its stop start nature kept her on her toes, each movement reminding her of her predicament. She almost missed her stop, being so intent on the feel of her hidden tormentors. The underground wasn't too bad, at least initially. The escalator wasn't too bad, but the train was filled with late running commuters. As she was pressed deeper into the already crowded train, she found herself being crushed against a blonde. Unfortunately, her jacket had been opened slightly by the crush, and she found her nipples being pressed into the blondes back. What made it worse was the fact that the blonde was wearing a strapless number. She could feel her nipples pressing into her; she could feel the warmth of her body through the tips of her nipples. Irritated, the blonde shrugged her shoulders, trying to remove the irritation. The movement of the shoulders dragged her nipples across the smooth skin. With shame she relished she loved the feel of the blondes skin against her, even if it was through her top. She tried to make a bit of space, but the carriage was too crowded, and she could see that the blonde was getting annoyed with the feel of something digging into her back. Her movements were becoming more exaggerated, as she tried to remove the irritation. Whilst she was trying to find some way to deal with the problem her breasts was causing, the movement of the train added new problems. The track wasn't the smoothest, and every so often the train would judder as it passed a set of points. The train bounced her just enough so that her swaying clit bell rang. She could see that the occasional sound was irritating the other commuters. She knew what they felt like, after all no one likes hearing an unanswered mobile. If it was only so easy she thought. The blonde's movements were dragging her nipples this way and that as she tried to remove them from her back. Luckily the blonde couldn't turn round, all she could do was glance over her shoulder, her eyes flashing her annoyance at her. All she could do was shrug her shoulders apologetically, but even that jigged her breasts. She realised that she was as turned on as she had ever been. The mix of pain and pleasure had blended into something else, something greater than either. The shame she felt, being so turned on, and in public just added to the mix. And as if that wasn't enough, the unpredictable way the train moved, and the way the blonde tried to remove her pointed nipples from her back added to it all. She thought that if she could only reach her pussy, if she could only stroke the edges of her taught labia, teasing herself there, then maybe she'd be able to make it. She could feel her juices dripping down her thighs. She was so wet, she was leaking. Her juices were slowly making their way down her thighs. The knowledge that she was covering herself in her arousal added to the heady mixture of feelings she was experiencing. She thought about sliding a hand down to her mound, to seeing if she could indeed manage to make it without touching her hidden clit, but the way she was pressed in, she knew that the blonde would feel her hand against her ass. She was tempted, even though she knew the blonde would wise up quickly enough, but what would she do? Would she accept a stranger trying to bring herself off against her, or would she raise a commotion, calling attention the pervert behind her? She sucked her stomach in, and slid her hand against her belly, letting it rest there a moment. The blonde didn't react, so feeling braver; she started to slide it down her front, reaching for her taught labia through her skirt. Just as her hand brushed against the blonde's ass, making her start suddenly, the press was released. She had been so carried away with her desire; she hadn't noticed that they'd arrived. With a stifled cry of frustration the moment passed, she was no longer tightly pressed against her, her nipples weren't being tugged this way and that by the blondes shrugs. On weak legs, she stumbled of the train, ashamed by what she had been about to try. Ahead lay her office, and she had absolutely no idea how she was going to make it through the long day ahead.