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From: Wade Martineau <wmartine@compusmart.ab.ca>
Subject: RP: The Suit chapter IV (bd, M/f)
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I'm reposting a series originally posted to alt.sex.stories.bondage by Don
Quixote <d_quixote@yahoo.com>.  It's a work in progress, and currently
stands at chapter IX.  Posted here with permission -- please forward
comments to the aforementioned address.

******************************************************************

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 IV 

She looked around and could see no one. How did she get here? Where
was here? Why was it so dark? She tried to move but could not. Her
body was held rigid by something wrapped tight around her, pinning her
arms and legs down. She tried to call for help but her mouth was
gagged. She twisted and turned, rolling on the cold floor as she
fought to escape.
Suddenly a bright light shone over her, blinding her completely. As
her eyes got used to the light she tried to see who was there, but she
could not see past the lights. All she could see was the black and
white checker of the tiled floor she was lying on. The floor seemed to
go on for ever, disappearing into a black horizon. Her body was
wrapped in black a shiny rubber tube, covering her from neck to toes.
It was the rubber that had kept her from moving. Several ominous
looking wires came out next to her feet and disappeared into the
shadows. Suddenly a voice boomed loudly. "Mademoiselle Gaumont! We
know you have been hiding english POW's in your shed! What have you
done with them?" A shiver of fear went down her spine. The Gestapo!
How had they discovered her? She tried to profess her innocence but
she could not speak through the gag. Again the voice boomed. "I said,
where are the POW's? It would be difficult for you if you don't
co-operate! Speak whore!"
Again she tried to reply but the gag prevented it. What was going on?
Couldn't they see that she was unable to reply? "Very well, have it
your way. Hit it Hanz"
Suddenly small electrical shocks coursed through her body. They had
inserted electrodes into her sex and anus! Another two were placed
over her nipples. She had expected to be tortured but instead the
electricity felt like several fingers coursing over her skin. The
sensation was gorgeous and she moaned in pleasure as the electricity
flowed through her. Suddenly it stopped!
"Had enough yet?" asked the voice. "We can go on for the whole day,
we've plenty of time. Ready to be more co-operative?"
She could just shake her head and try to thrust her jaws towards the
light. "I'm gagged you fools!" she tried to shout. Again the
electricity flowed, slightly stronger this time. It just heightened
the pleasure. For several seconds she rolled over the floor, wriggling
and squirming as thousands of little finger caressed her. As she was
about to reach orgasm the fingers disappeared. She was panting heavily
through her nose, the shiny rubber squirming and bulging as her ribs
strained against the tight surface. Already she could feel little
pools of sweat form under the rubber. She rolled onto her stomach,
forcing her breasts into the hard floor. She could just make out the
pressure of the metal clips on her nipples. They should hurt, and yet
they did not. Suddenly another voice spoke. "Mademoiselle, I know this
hurts. Surely you realize that you have no choice but to co-operate?"
The voice was soothing and reasonable, but she was not fooled. They
were playing bad nazi, good nazi. "Are you prepared to talk?" the
soothing voice asked. Again she shook her head, trying to make them
understand. Again the shocks returned. This time it was even stronger,
making her groan in pleasure as it coursed through her. She squirmed
and rolled, groaning and moaning through the gag. It felt so goooood!
She arched her back, trusting her breasts and hips into the air in
pleasure. She could feel the climax coming, closer and closer till she
was just about to... and the electricity disappeared. She screamed in
frustration - that was so close! She tried to roll over to the light,
trying to reach the little button that would send her over the edge.
She could hear the men laughing at her desperate attempts. Suddenly a
black leather boot flashed behind the light, collided with her ribs
and sent her rolling back to the center of the spotlight. Her ribs
were bruised, but it was nothing in comparison to the throbbing in her
sex. She could see her nipples through the rubber, their hard shapes
forming bumps in the smooth surface. This time they didn't even ask
the questions, they just gave her all they got, and as she distantly
heard them laughing she finally succumbed to a pink haze of pleasure.

Sharon stood in the shower and absent-mindedly soaped her body. She'd
survived her first week in the suit and she'd began to despair that
she'd spend the rest of her life in it. She'd hoped her captor would
contact her, explaining his intentions and setting his terms. After
all, why do this and then disappear. The possibility made her cringe
and she refused to consider it. But the question remained, what was
his plans? Suddenly she got angry with herself. What did she care what
his plans were? Why should she sit around waiting for his demands? She
wasn't his slave, his possession. He could go to hell for all she
cared. She should refuse to be intimidated by him.  She should get on
with her life. This was the 90's, not the middle ages. A woman's body,
soul and mind was her own. The bastard had violated her and he should
pay! Why even think of him? What did he have that she wanted? Why be
bothered by him?
She looked down at her shiny hard breast covered with soapy suds and
her spirits sank down to her feet. That's why. Because of the suit.
His slave? Certainly. She wasn't chained but he sure controlled her.
Her body was his, and she was beginning to wonder about her mind.
Intimidate her? She squeezed her breasts from the sides. Definitely.
Anybody with the power and money to construct this should be feared.
She shivered and tried to forget the whole thing. She concentrated on
cleaning herself. She'd discovered that a nail brush seemed to work
best. Although the bristles was to thick to penetrate the fine weave,
it did make to suit move slightly. The soapy water would penetrate
under the solid sections as she scrubbed and cleaned those parts she
could get to. She was scrubbing her sides when she happened to glance
under her arms. I had been a week since she'd shaved and yet no
stubble was showing. She ran her hands down her legs, they were smooth
as well. Apparently her body had been treated with a permanent
exfoliating treatment. Well, she couldn't say she minded, she'd
considered having it done herself. She wondered about her sex, would
that be clear as well? It made sense. After all, the small holes would
soon clog up as her hair fell out. Better to get rid of it beforehand.
That would also explain the maddening itching she'd experienced. Her
first period was due to arrive any day now and she dreaded it. What
was the cramps going to be like? The constant pressure on her waist
combined with the dildo in her sex could cause some serious problems.
Could the dildo block her up, preventing the passage of the blood? She
sighed to herself. She would cross that bridge when she came to it,
there was nothing she could do now anyway. 
She got out of the shower and dried herself. It took a bit of jumping
and twisting to get rid of all the water trapped under the suit but by
now she knew that she could get rid of most of it. When she'd first
realized that her suit contained pockets she'd been worried that water
would get trapped in them. After a week she'd still not noticed any
problems with water so she assumed there was a way for the water to
drain away. As she walked into the bedroom she had to grudgingly
admire the inventor of the suit. It took a lot of knowledge and
foresight to think of all the complications the female body might pose. 
She noticed the tools standing in the corner and cursed. What a waste
of money that had turned out to be. She'd bought several items, none
of them worth a damn. The hacksaw had not even made a dent, after an
hour of laborious sawing all she'd had gained was a completely ruined
blade. The metal shears were useless as well, she couldn't squeeze
them closed. The worst disappointment had been the bolt cutter. It's 3
foot handles had convinced her it would be ideal and she'd bought it
eagerly. Her excitement was shattered the moment she'd tried it on the
wire, the jaws would not close properly! The cutter had a very small
tolerance between it's teeth, but it was just enough for the wire to
sit unharmed in the gap. She'd tried to use it on some of the other
surfaces, but it was too bulky to get under the suit. With a disgusted
curse she was forced to admit defeat and fling the thing into the
corner (taking a patch of plaster as it bounced off the wall).

As she dried her hair she noticed her computer standing in the corner.
With all that was going on she'd not had chance to surf a bit and she
fired it up. It would be the ideal way to distract herself - something
she had to do or she'd go mad. The past week's nights had been torture
as the TV had been unable to capture her attention fully. Waiting for
the computer to boot she finished drying her hair and dressed in the
usual T-shirt. By the time she'd done the computer was ready and she
logged on to the net. She had several messages waiting for her, most
of it spam. She scanned through the messages, killing the spam with a
quiet little curse. A few of her friends said hi, one or two
newsletters sent her their regular updates and an old boyfriend was
coming to town (four days ago). She froze as she came to the end of
the list. 
Somebody had sent her two messages. The first's subject read 'The
basic ground rules'. With her heart in her throat she opened the
message. It had been sent a day after she'd first discovered the suit.
The sender was 'nobody@anonymous.net'. She bit her lower lip as she
read the message.

	1)	Do not tell anybody about the unit.
	2)	Do not try to contact me.
	3)	Follow all instructions to the letter.
	4)	Keep the unit clean.
	5)	Do not attempt to leave the city.
	6)	Check your e-mail daily.
	
No greeting, no name, nothing personal of any kind. It was the most
intimidating message she'd ever received. The second message was even
worse:

	From:	Nobody@anonymous.net
	Subj:	First instructions.

	1)	Go to the Post office, retrieve package.

She stared at the screen for a while. The message had been sent on
Thursday, three days ago. She'd hoped to be contacted and now she has.
It wasn't what she'd hoped for. She sat back and looked out her
window. The messages were not only bland and rude, they were arrogant.
She imagined the person sending them and shuddered as the image of a
stuffy military general sprang to mind. She leaned back in the chair
and rubbed her eyes. The messages had several implications and not all
of them bad. First was the fact that she'd been contacted. One of her
greatest fears had been that this would turn out to be a single,
almost random act of malicious madness. She could well imagine someone
being sadistic enough to do this to her and then leave her to live out
a life in misery. Although the possibility was still there, it seemed
unlikely. Obviously there was more to come. 
Second was that her tormentor knew exactly who she was and what would
be the best way to contact her. That canceled the random theory. 
Finally there was the knowledge that someone else was involved. Until
now it had been just her and the suit, now a third person was part of
her secret. Although she'd always knew he was out there, his message
had a comforting effect. Now she could feel another's presence, she
could almost sense his touch. Her life was no longer just about her
and the suit. She cursed as she realized her body had betrayed her
again! What the hell was going on? Whenever something bad happened she
got horny! It was so bad that she could barely inspect herself in the
mirror, the mere sight of the metal and her breasts would start
throbbing! Why was her body reacting in this way? Sighing in
exasperation she launched the browser, she'd better find something to
distract her or she'd have to go through hell again.

Sharon woke early on Monday morning and started the arduous task of
preparing for work. She'd soon realized that she'd have to modify her
usual patterns in order to accommodate her new lifestyle. The most
irritating change was that she'd have to wake up half an hour earlier
than what she used to. She'd always been a notorious and chronic
over-sleeper, but with the suit she could no longer afford to rush out
of her flat in a mad flurry. Besides taking longer to do the usual
ablutions (she still wasn't completely used to the wire) she'd also
need to take greater care with her cleansing routine. Getting rid of
the water alone took her much longer than just a normal toweling. 
Selecting a frilly little blouse (fuck she hated them, they looked so
prim) she quickly dressed and got ready to leave. At least she felt
comfortable enough to wear a tight pencil skirt. After all, why go
through all the aches and pains if she can't even show off her flat
new stomach and thin waist? Finally she set off, ready to face a new
day. 

During her lunch hour she swung by the post office. After a long
search she'd discovered the parcel's notification in a stack of unread
junk mail - tucked inside a brochure for camping goods of all things.
She'd been relatively calm about the parcel until she stood in the
queue in the post office. As she slowly neared the counter her anxiety
grew. What would it contain? What could he possibly be sending her?
Would she want it if she knew? What would happen if she refused to
take it, simply ignoring the instructions? The loud, constant thumping
of a stamp on paper was getting on her nerves. Couldn't they find a
better way of making their mark on a document than violently hitting
it with rubber stamp? Finally she reached the front, her nerves frayed
to the breaking point. A thin little man was standing behind the
counter and she almost giggled. He was the complete image of the gray
bureaucrat, down to the little bowtie and shiny oiled hair. He did not
even look up as she slid the stub under the window, his attention
focused on his work. 
Without a word he turned around and disappeared. She waited nervously
as he appeared a few moments later, carrying a brown parcel about the
size of a shoe box. Sliding the stub under the window he waited for
her signature before handing it over. She left the post office,
carrying the parcel as if it was a bomb.

Sharon entered her apartment and threw the keys on the kitchen
counter. Carrying the parcel she placed it on the bed and kicked off
her shoes. She'd avoided the parcel the whole day, not wanting to open
it at the office. She needed to keep her composure at work - that
bastard of a boss was still watching her like a hawk. If the parcel
contained something unpleasant he'd notice her distraction immediately. 
Finally she sat down on the bed and looked the parcel over. It was
neatly wrapped in brown paper, the seams perfectly straight. The post
marks indicated that it had been sent from the large central post
office in the heart of the city. With her heart in her throat she
opened the paper wrapping and looked at the nondescript white shoebox.
Finally she took a deep breath and removed the lid.

The box contained several items, none of which she immediately
recognized. First of was a sealed plastic bag, containing some kind of
garment, neatly folded into a square.
Next was a small black box with several holes.
Then there was another sealed plastic bag with what seemed to be a
jumble of wires inside.
Finally there was a note. Deciding to keep the note till last she
opened the bag with the garment. She was very surprised to see that it
was a standard bathing costume, with one small modification. All
around the seams clear plastic wings had been added. She immediately
realized that the wings were meant to be tucked in under the suit,
keeping the suit covered beneath the fabric of the costume. The
costume was pitch black and fit the dimensions of her suit exactly.
The only part that was larger was the seat of the costume, following
the traditional line rather than the g-string wire of her suit. A
solid plastic zip ran up along the spine to a high collar that closed
with velcro. She realized that she could wear the costume and not a
single part of the suit would be visible. 
Quickly she stood up and faced the mirror. Stepping into the open back
she pulled the costume up until it fit snugly over the suit. She
tucked the clear plastic wings under the seams of the suit and closed
the collar. It took a bit of a struggle but she finally managed to
close the zipper and she looked herself over. The effect was
startling. She looked completely normal! She pulled and tugged at the
costume, but the wings held it in place. There was no way that the
suit could be revealed as the wings kept the seams lined up. She
stepped close to the mirror and marveled how natural it looked. The
small bumps on her breasts showed where her nipples would have been
and it looked completely natural. The dome between her legs was
invisible, the contours following the natural lines of her body.
Stepping back she inspected her rear as well. The zipper masked the
broad strip up her back, hiding it from view. 
The feeling was more powerful than she'd expected and she realized how
much she missed her freedom. Seeing herself in a 'natural' state made
her realize how much she'd always taken it for granted. She could not
stop looking at herself! How she longed to peel the costume off her
body, seeing her own flesh and blood beneath the thin fabric. She
stroked her hand down her stomach and immediately the illusion
vanished. Under the innocent black costume was hard unyielding metal.
With the spell broken she sat down and inspected the rest of the
contents.
The small box was about as long as her hand and had several small
lights on top. At the one end was the standard hole that a power cable
plugged in. Several small holes lined the one side of the box, neatly
numbered from one to eight. Each number had a corresponding little
light with a ninth light at the end. Unable to determine the purpose
of the box she moved on to the next item.
She opened the bag and two items tumbled out. She immediately
recognized the power cable, it was obviously meant to plug into the
box. Next was a long, thin wire, ending in a small plastic triangle.
On the inside of the triangle was three small copper points. On the
other end of the wire was a small plug, clearly meant for one of the
holes in the box. She inspected the triangle and with a sinking
feeling realized where it was meant to go. The three copper points
would fit perfectly into the three holes at the bottom of the suit.
Obviously the whole arrangement was meant to power something inside
the suit, maybe the dildo! Deciding to be cautious she ignored the
temptation to plug herself in and moved on to the note. It was as
short and rude as the e-mail.

Instructions for use:
1)	Electrodes to be inserted every night without fail. Latest 3 am.
2)	Continuous electrical current to be supplied until 5 am earliest.
3)	Keep all units dry at all times.

The note was typed on a normal white sheet of paper, no signature. No
mention was made of the bathing suit. No indication was given as to
the purpose of the black box. As usual the instructions supplied more
questions than answers. In exasperation Sharon stood up and walked to
the kitchen to make dinner. She decided to keep on wearing the bathing
suit, it made her feel better.

The rest of the night was spent in anxious anticipation. Over the last
week she'd slowly and laboriously regained control of her composure,
and she'd thought she had it under control. The package ruined that
theory. She was nervous and exited at the same time, not knowing what
was going to happen. The E-Mail system had supplied her with no
further clues and her imagination ran rampant. As she lay on the couch
she realized that she was again incredibly horny, her body responding
to her nerves in the most traitorous way possible. She closed her eyes
and slowly slid her hands up and down her breasts, trying to remember
what it used to feel like. Soon she was so frustrated she couldn't
hold it any more and she stormed to the bedroom. She removed the
bathing suit and gathered the other equipment. She quickly plugged the
box into the wall socket and the ninth light came on. Next she plugged
the wire into the first hole. For a few moments she stood staring at
the small triangle. What she was about to do was foolish, she had no
idea what would happen. For heaven's sake, she might be shocked to
death for all she knew! Despite her trepidation she knew she was going
to go through with it, she could already feel her sex throbbing at the
prospect. Oh for the chance of feeling that dildo move! She'd be over
the edge in the blink of an eye. With a little shudder she spread her
legs and applied the little triangle. It clicked home with a faint
tick and she held her breath. Nothing. She fiddled with the triangle -
maybe it's not making contact? Nothing. She switched the power off and
on. Nothing. Finally she flung herself backwards onto the bed, crying
in frustration and disappointment as the useless black wire snaked
around her leg and into her fork.

After a few minutes she'd calmed down and had to admit that nothing
was going to happen. She sat up and stared at the thin wire. With a
disgusted oath she struggled to pull the triangle from it's holes. It
was a tight seal and it took several oaths and grunts before she could
remove it. Looking at it in revulsion she threw it into a corner. She
stormed into the kitchen and vowed never to wear the damn thing again.
She was still fuming when her stomach muscles suddenly spasmed,
frightening her to death! For about three seconds her whole abdomen
had clenched itself into a ball so tight she'd thought her muscles
would tear! The sensation had not been painful, just scary. For a
panicky moment she'd thought something had hit her in the abdomen. She
barely had time to recover when another spasm hit, this one stronger
and lasting a bit longer. It forced her to her knees and she groaned
as the air was forced out of her lungs. This time she'd felt the weird
sensation of electricity running through her muscles. When it ended
she breathed deeply to calm herself. Something inside her suit was
shocking her, pulling her muscles so tight they spasmed! Still shocked
and dazed she headed back to the bedroom, realizing that she'd not
been supposed to interrupt the power supply. She was still fiddling
with the triangle when the third shock hit her and for the first time
she felt pain. When it was over she applied the triangle and fell back
on the bed, too dazed to think clearly.

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

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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