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From: D_Quixote@Yahoo.com (Don Quixote)
Subject: Story - The Suit, Chapter XI - BDSM, Mf
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WARNING -WARNING
This text contains material of an explicit and adult nature. If you
are not of an legal age to view such text DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER.
Sensitive readers or readers that has religious or moral objections to
sexually explicit material, Bondage, BDSM and or Sado Masochism are
warned not to read the following text. The author will not take
responsibility for any emotional, psychological, physical or other
distress, damage or harm that may be that result of reading this text.
Readers that live in countries where text of an explicit nature is
forbidden read this text at their own discretion and of their own
accord. 
The following text and characters are fictional and in no way reflects
any known persons, situations or places. Any similarity to real life
is purely co-incidental.
The author retains ownership of the following material and grants the
reader the right to freely distribute and re-produce the material only
under the following circumstances:
a)  That said distribution is not in any way of financial  interest to
the distributor.



THE SUIT

Chapter XI

Sharon sat on the tree stump and waited for the dawn to arrive. She
crossed her legs and got another fright as the links of the chain made
a loud noise in the quiet night air. She looked down at her ankle and
gave a quiet curse. Her leg was bound in a large iron manacle, the
manacle attached to a heavy iron chain. The five feet of chain ran
from her ankle to the tree stump where it was bound by a tight iron
band to the stump. 
The parish priest had accused her of using witchcraft to seduce the
village boys and this was her penance. He’d actually wanted her burnt
at the stake but the village chief had put his foot down. Not even the
priest would tangle with old Olaf when he’d made his mind up. Instead
she’d been sentenced to the relatively mild punishment of being bound
to the stump, next to the road. She was to spend a whole day and a
whole night bound and then she would be released. According to the
custom any man that passed her by could do with her as he fancied, but
it was the middle of winter and no sane person would use the road to
get through the frozen mountain pass. A few of the village crones had
thrown rotten fruit at her on their way back from gathering firewood,
but that had been the worst of her suffering. It was almost dawn and
she knew that soon she’d be released unharmed. It was bitterly cold
but she was wearing practically her whole wardrobe so she didn’t
suffer too much.
At first she thought her ears were playing tricks with her but as the
noise increased she grew certain she was not mistaken. She could hear
the lazy clip-clop of a horse as it slowly came down the road.
Suddenly she was very nervous and afraid. The old folk told all manner
of stories about strange beasts and ghosts that inhabited the night.
She stood up and tried to get as far away from the stump as the chain
allowed. She could not reach the edge of the road but she could get to
the darker shadows of a tree and she stood deadly quiet. Her legs were
shaking as she tried to peer through the mist, and at last she could
make out the sight of the black horse walking down the path. It
carried a tall black shape on it’s back and she tried her best to make
out what it was. 
The horse kept on coming and soon it was next to the stump. She had
just convinced herself that it would pass her by when it suddenly
stopped, it’s nostrils blowing wasps of steam in the frigid air. She
stood as still as a statue, willing the horse to move on. 
Suddenly the shape on it’s back moved and she tried take a step back
in fright. The noise from the chain sounded like a hundred church
bells ringing and she realized she’d been discovered. In a blind panic
she turned around and tried to run for the woods but the chain tripped
her up. Screaming bloody blue murder she clawed at the ground as she
tried to crawl away. After several minutes of blind panic she managed
to get a hold of herself and she looked back. A man in a long black
coat was seated on the stump and was watching her intently. She turned
over and sat on the ground, staring back nervously. "Good morn
m’lady." he said. She could not see his face under the cowl but the
voice sounded mischievous. "Good morn sir" she replied, cursing her
quivering voice. Again the chain tinkled as she tried to draw her legs
up to her body. "And pray tell what is a beautiful damsel doing bound
to a stump?" he asked. "Perhaps she had not been too much of a lady
after all?" he continued. "Perhaps she has powerful enemies that don’t
like to hear no." she replied curtly. "Hmm" he said, not quite
believing her. He bent down and took hold of the chain. Despite her
maidenly protests she was soon reeled in and seated right in front of
him.
He grabbed hold of her hands and drew her to her feet. She barely had
time to protest and the next moment was seated on his lap. She wanted
to ask him to stop but the moment she opened her mouth his warm lips
met hers, stifling her protests. She let out a quivering little moan
and melted into his arms. With her eyes closed she felt his hand probe
in under her several coats and take hold of her breast. Suddenly she
realized that she’d neglected to breathe and she drew back, taking big
gulps of air. For a moment everything swam before her but his hands
was quickly bringing her back to the present. She tried to see his
face but the cowl still hid it from view. This time she kissed him and
while his hands roamed she took the opportunity to draw the cowl away
from his head. Her eyes grew large and she tried to scream but his
mouth was covering hers. She started fighting but he had her in a firm
grip. As she slowly lost consciousness all she could see was the two
deep empty sockets where his eyes ought to be. The last thing she
remembered were the two small pinpoints of red light behind the empty
sockets, lights that were an eternity away. 

Sharon lay in the bath and soaked. It had been a month since her
ordeal on the mountain and she had not heard from him again. She
thought back to the adventure and her hands snuck down to her sex.
After she had managed to free herself from the harness and cable she
had dressed herself and rested. She had discovered another letter that
instructed her to retrieve all the equipment she had brought with her
and to return home. Climbing into the tree had been torture, but she
finally managed to collect the cable. Climbing down the mountain had
been just as tough but it was downhill so she had managed. It had
taken almost a week for all the aches and pains to disappear. 

A few days later she received another set of instructions via e-mail. 

From:	Nobody@anonymous.net
Subj:	New instructions

	You will shortly receive another parcel.
	This Friday evening you are to go to the club at the corner of
10th and Main.
	You are to arrive before 10PM.
	You are not to leave before 2AM.
	You are to wear only the garments included in the latest
parcel.
	You are to dance with any and every person that asks you.
	You are to accept every drink offered to you.

As she re-read the instructions a tight knot formed in her stomach.
She had deliberately been avoiding contact with other people, what if
they felt the hard suit under her clothes? Now she was instructed to
do exactly the opposite. And what garments would the parcel contain?
With a worried heart she set about getting ready for bed. Soon she was
sound asleep, her body bound in it’s usual bondage.

Sharon walked to her bed and placed the parcel on it. It was Friday
evening and she’d been hoping the legendary poor service of the postal
service would come to her rescue. Instead they had waited to the last
moment to send her the parcel. Seating herself next to it she opened
the nondescript parcel and lifted the lid. The first garment she
removed was a wine-red leotard, made from cotton. It seemed normal in
every way so she moved on. Next was a small leather skirt. It too was
normal so she moved on. Next came a broad red garter belt, also made
of leather. Besides being broad and stiff she could find nothing
ominous about it so she continued. Finally there was a pair of pumps
with a stocking in each one. The pumps were pitch black and had 4”
heels. She felt around inside the shoes but other than the stockings
there was nothing else to discover. For the first time her ‘gift’
contained nothing to do with bondage. She had to admit it wasn’t the
kind of clothes she would buy for herself but there was nothing
strange about them. It was already 6PM and with a resigned sigh she
got ready.

Sharon sat in front of the dresser and applied the last touches to her
make-up. As per her earlier instructions she wore no clothes but the
suit. She was already extremely nervous and exited and as she leaned
back she noticed the suit in the mirror. It’s glimmering surface was a
constant reminder of her predicament. As before her fear made her both
jumpy and horny. She stroked her hard breast and wished the nipple
brushes would come alive for a few moments. Realizing that she was
getting herself worked up she stood up and walked to the bed. For a
few moments she was unsure of which garment to put on first, the
leotard or the garter belt? The belt had big metal buckles at the back
and she decided that it would look strange when worn under another
garment. Stepping into the leotard she pulled it up to her neck. She’d
no inspected it properly and only now discovered the plastic wings
around the seams. As with her bathing costume it was meant to tuck in
under the suit, hiding it from view. She used a old coat hanger to
pull the zip up her back. The leotard was tight but did not reveal any
part of the suit.
Next she put on the garter belt. Only when she wore it did she realize
that it was actually a small corselette. Although it could not clench
her waist any tighter than what the suit already did, it did create
the visual effect of a clenched waist.
Next she squeezed into the tight skirt. It was a tight fit over the
garters and she battled to get it on. For a while she struggled with
the zipper but finally got that done as well.
The stockings were shiny black with a thin black stripe up the back.
She attached them to the garters and was not at all surprised to see
that most of the stockings lip would stick out from under the skirt.
Finally she stepped into the shoes and walked up to the mirror.
Sharon looked herself over and groaned. She looked like a slut. The
garters stuck out well above the skirt and the tight leotard revealed
every curve. No doubt she’d be drawing a lot of attention tonight.

Sharon got out of the taxi and paid the driver. She was very nervous
and looked around carefully. This part of town was quite rough and she
felt very vulnerable. She walked over to the corner and looked for the
club. At first she couldn’t find it but then she saw a ancient bronze
plaque showing the entrance to 'The Chain Link' The plaque was set on
a heavy door between a grocer and a pharmacy. She pushed the door open
and tentatively walked in. On the other side of the door was a long,
dark passageway ending in a stairwell. If it hadn’t been for the music
coming from the stairs she would have thought the place was deserted.
She looked at her watch, she had eight more minutes before she had to
be inside the club. Taking a deep breath she walked down the
passageway and up the stairs.

Sharon’s mouth hung open as she looked the place over. The place
seemed to have gotten stuck in the 70’s, complete with old posters and
flashing blue disco lights. The voice of Aretha Franklin was
mournfully singing about lost love and broken hearts. A big bouncer
came over and introduced himself. "Hi, my name’s Jake. What’ll it be
tonight, leash or collar?" for a second she just blinked at him in
confusion. "What?" she asked. He smiled at her and opened a closet. On
the one side were several kinds of cheap metal leashes, on the other
collars. He turned back to her. "I take it this is your first time
here. Can I explain the rules?" he asked. She just nodded yes, to
shocked to open her mouth.
"This is a bondage club" he started and it was obvious he knew the
speech by heart. "When you go in you become either a sub or a dom.
Dom’s are recognized by their leashes and subs by their collars. If a
dom really likes a sub he or she may ask the sub to wear their leash
and if the sub agrees they become a pair. A sub may not approach or
bother a dom, but then again there’s usually many more dom’s than subs
so you won’t be lonely. Although the place is geared to bondage it is
not a sex bar so if you feel like having sex in public try two block
down. No dom may force him or herself on a sub, the idea here is
mutual consent. The closing time is usually about five AM and if you
choose to be a sub your first two drinks are free. All equipment is to
be returned when you leave."
He turned back to the closet "So? Leash or collar?". This was all
happening too fast! Did he just say Bondage Bar? Shit! She was to
spend the whole evening in a BONDAGE BAR! Sharon noticed the bouncer
watching her expectantly. "Uhm .. hmm .. Leash? No no I meant collar."
She replied while trying to keep a straight face. A small shock had
gone through her system the moment she'd said leash. Oh hell! He has
to be close by to have heard her answer. She looked around frantically
but with the noise and music it’s unlikely anybody could have heard
her speak. She looked back at the bouncer suspiciously, could it be
him? What kind of nut makes his living from a bondage bar anyway?
"Hope you enjoy the evening ma’am. Just shout if somebody is bothering
you."  he said as he handed her the collar. "Can’t be him" she thought
"There’s no way somebody with his sloping forehead could have thought
up the suit."

Sharon sat down in a dark corner and played with the collar. Suddenly
another jolt reminded her that it was meant to be worn, not played
with under the table. With her hands shaking nervously she put it on
and looked around. How could he have heard her speaking to the
bouncer? 
A cold chill ran down her back. Fuckfuckfuckfuck - he had her wired
the Bastard! It made such perfect sense! What better way to keep tabs
on her than to listen in on her conversations. She hammered her
forehead with her fist. You silly bitch! Why didn’t she think of it
earlier. The second jolt meant he was watching as well as listening.
She started scanning the crown intently.
Her discomfort grew as she realized that there were a great deal more
men than women in the place. Suddenly a guy walked over and sat down
across from her. "Hey gorgeous, you new?" he asked. Sharon immediately
disliked him. Besides the open shirt and slick oily hair he had a
cocky, arrogant attitude. "Uhuh" she said, looking away. "Wanna
dance?" he asked, sliding over to her side. Sharon tried to draw away
as he placed his arm around his shoulder. The alcohol fumes coming
from him made her nauseous. "No way, just leave - uhm on second
thought, yeah ok." she replied, suddenly remembering the instructions.
"Great! I just know you and I are going to be a hit." her suitor
replied, his big grin giving her a splendid view of the missing teeth
in his jaw.

Sharon sat down on the toilet and leaned her head back. The whole
cubicle was spinning and she had to try her best not to giggle. "Good
lord, what a night!" she said out loud. She had another hour to go and
didn’t think she would make it. She had not had one chance to rest her
aching feet the whole evening. As soon as they caught on that she’d
never say no to a dance the men had bombarded her with requests. Some
arsehole had even tried to slip his leash onto her collar without her
noticing. She smiled at the memory, apparently Jake had been keeping
an eye on her. The poor sod wouldn’t be using his hand for a while,
Jake had seen to that. 
At first she’d been so nervous she’d tried to dance as far away from
her partners as possible. But soon the alcohol had made her careless
and she’d bounced off a few chests. The quizzical looks and raised
eyebrows had been almost comical to watch. Her explanation of ‘my new
wonder bra - giggle giggle’ had been enough to satisfy most of them.
One guy had speculated that she might be wearing a strange bondage
garment but she’d refused to comment. Pretty soon she’d become the
property of a little group of guys, all of them nice blokes. Heck, two
of them was doctors for heavens sake! 
They’d done a good job of keeping the weirdo’s away and pretty soon
she’d felt as comfortable as could be expected. The night was turning
out to be almost enjoyable. She’d not realized how ostracized she’d
been becoming and it felt good so socialize a bit. Even if it was with
a bunch of weirdo’s and perverts.

Sharon walked back into the crowd and searched for her little group of
admirers. They had disappeared and she started to grow nervous.
Suddenly a hand touched her elbow and she twirled around. A tall dark
man had been behind her and he looked her up and down. "Care to
dance?" he simply said, not even introducing himself. She nodded
wordlessly, his dark eyes keeping her spellbound. He gently took her
around the waist and pulled her close. His eyes revealed nothing as
her hard breasts pressed into his chest. They floated over the floor
of to the slow, mournful sounds of Kenny Rodger’s voice. One of her
guys had spotted them but he also noted her partner’s height and he
quickly backed off. "Ohmygodohmygod! It’s Him. It has to be! He didn’t
even blink when our chests met!" she thought. She held on to his
broad, muscular chest as he expertly led her around the floor. "What
am I gonna do! This is him! Sharon this is him! Ohshitohshit oh shit
please let this be him!" The thought came so suddenly she lost a step
in shock. Slowly Kenny wound it down and they finally stopped. He
simply stepped back, gave a little bow and disappeared into the crowd.
By the time she’d regained her senses he’d disappeared completely.


----------------

Please note: This story is a work in progress and may change
completely with the passage of time. Please let me know what you think
(like most authors I feel like a parent releasing his baby to the
world). Encouragement and ideas would be most welcome. Contact me at
D_Quixote@Yahoo.Com

Don Quixote


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