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               K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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		             WARNING!
	      This text file contains sexually explicit
	      material. If you do not wish to read this
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

One Night Stand
by The Bishop (address withheld)

***

Playing at bondage sex. (MF, bd, cons)

***

She felt more naked than if she had actually been 
naked. She looked at herself again and turned to see 
her back in the mirror. The boots looked sprayed on and 
were so black that she felt that her gaze could sink 
beneath the surface. A rippling series of bright little 
highlights chased themselves up and down her legs as 
she moved. The heels were four inches high, and the 
tops of the boots ended just barely beneath her crotch. 
The opera-length gloves on her arms were of the same 
material, and just as shiny, and just as tight.

Spectacular as they were though, the boots and the 
gloves were only accouterments to the literal 
centerpiece of the ensemble, the suit. It somewhat 
resembles the currently fashionable French cut swim 
suits, except that it was of the same shiny material as 
her other apparel. And there were other differences. 

Rather than being covered, her breasts jutted firm and 
round through openings in the suit. The material 
immediately around her breasts was thicker and acted as 
a kind of flexible frame to mold them. She looked at 
her breasts in the mirror and then looked directly down 
at them mounding out below her chin. She raised one 
hand and lightly, carefully stroked one of the nipples. 
She was astonished at how sensitive they had become and 
how rock hard they were. Just from the suit!

She looked in the mirror again. The really erotic 
aspect of the suit, though, was at the other end, the 
crotch. Or, rather what there was of it.

The crotch was comprised of three parallel narrow 
strips which descended down her belly. The two on the 
outside went down, one on either side of her pussy, 
through her crotch and up between the cheeks of her 
buttocks.

The center strap-ah, the center one, went between the 
lips of her sex and followed the other two. The two 
outside straps were linked with kid leather. The center 
one was lined with a six inch strip of softly firm pink 
rubber cilia-like fingerlings, and these came into 
tight and intimate contact with her clitoris. Walking 
was an... interesting experience.

From the top of the suit at the juncture of her 
striated breasts, a short strap reached up to the 
bottom of a high, padded collar. The only part of the 
thing she didn't understand was the single chrome 
buckle attached to the front of the garment directly 
over her belly button. Doubtless she would soon find 
out, she told herself with a tiny smile.

"It's... beautiful," she said in a somewhat subdued 
voice. "We can go out and hang around with the 
punkers," he said, getting up off the couch where he'd 
been watching her watch herself. She cast him a quick 
over the shoulder don't-hold-your-breath smile. He gave 
her a somewhat more predatory look, walked up behind 
her, and looked at her reflection from over her 
shoulder. It was obvious to both of them that she was 
becoming sexually aroused. "Turn around," he breathed 
into her ear. 

She did. He was very close, and her nipples brushed his 
shirt. 

She jerked and gave a tiny gasp. "God, they were so 
sensitive!"

He grinned at her and she returned a sheepish smile. 
Her body, as always was betraying her. "Put your hands 
behind your back and spread your legs." Again, she did 
as she was told. He reached out his hands and carefully 
stroked her nipples. She arched her neck and sucked in 
her breath. When one of his hands with equal subtlety 
stroked the smooth-shaven twin mounds jutting between 
the crotch straps, she moaned.

When one large index finger pushed the cilia-laden 
center strap deep between the lips of her sex, she 
moaned again and felt her legs begin to go. The hands 
went away. Damn, damn, damn, she thought.

"Turn around. Keep your hands behind your back." It 
begins, she thought. The cuffs were simple steel bands 
covered with thick leather. They fit her wrists exactly 
and locked together with a small, firm grasp. First one 
hand, and then the other. She felt her hands lifted to 
the small of her back. The two cuffs were joined by a 
snap-fitting at the end of a leather strap. The other 
end of the strap was threaded through a buckle at the 
rear of her collar and was pulled. 

Her joined wrists were raised higher and higher up her 
back until they were right under her shoulder blades. 
This much was familiar, at least. There was more to 
come. A short leather strap was buckled around her 
right ankle. The other part of the strap was a lot 
longer and was left unbuckled. She watched it jouncing 
from her ankle and wrinkled her nose. Curious. The gag 
was new too. 

Apparently of some dense sponge like stuff, the ball 
was huge, far larger than anything she'd worn before. 
She hoped she could get it in her mouth. She'd better! 
She already had her mouth open to accept it, but the 
gag was simply draped around her neck for the time 
being. He had more in mind, it seemed.
"Come" was the simple command. she turned, guided and 
propelled by the large hand at her acutely bent elbow, 
and they went out. The walk through the rooms were a 
precarious clatter on the enormous heels. 

As for the strap, she made it to the bottom of the 
stairs, but halfway up she buckled against him and 
crumpled with a hissing moan. Large hands at the end of 
the arms supporting her under the elbows cupped her 
breasts and twirled the nipples. She bucked against him 
again with another shuddering intake of breath.
Her thighs were soaked.

"You're not supposed to do that yet," came the vaguely 
annoyed voice.

A quick, vice-like pinch to both nipples straightened 
her like a shot, but came damn close to setting her off 
again. Men just don't understand about a woman's 
nipples, she thought, still gasping. Or maybe they do. 
They resumed the journey.
There was another full length mirror before her, and as 
he began threading the buckle, she could see that this 
strap, too, had more of the damnable, inescapable, 
wonderful rubber cilia! He noticed her discovery, and 
gave her arched eyebrows, and a self congratulatory 
smirk as he walked around behind her. "Hell, lady, I 
think of everything!"

He brought her legs together to buckle her knees, and 
as she went from "attention" to standing erect, she got 
taller. The strap attached to the dildo and her suit 
obligingly pulled the dildo further up to suit the 
change in vertical height. The cilia in the strap sunk 
deeper into her puss, and she almost spasmed again. The 
broad band crushed her knees together, and the other 
loop at her ankles went clear around the pole and 
pinioned her other ankle to it.

He walked around and around, looking. Incredible, he 
thought. Absolutely fucking incredible. She stood bolt 
upright, a thin sheen of sweat covering her body where 
it wasn't covered by leather. The dildo was completely 
encased in her belly with the strap erupting out 
between the smooth pink mounds of her mons and 
proceeding up a deep furrow to its buckle on the suit. 
She could, he knew, by dint of standing on her tiptoes 
against the securing straps, raise or lower herself 
fractionally on the dildo. An entertaining internal 
friction, he imagined. Also, every twitch, every spasm 
no matter how small brought the devilish cilia into 
full play.

With her wrists snuggled behind her back, there was no 
way she was going to get away from them either. But 
there were three more touches he still wanted to add.

First, the gag, if a gag is good, a little overkill is 
even better! He brought over three feet of overkill. It 
was an elastic bandage four inches in width and 
adhesive on one side. As he smoothed the end on her 
left cheek and pulled it tightly over her mouth and the 
other cheek, she spasmed yet again, and he paused until 
she stilled, then proceeded using up the rest of the 
tape. When he was done, the bottom half of her face had 
disappeared under an apparently seamless smooth band of 
white. Her cheeks bulged over the top of the band.

The second to last thing was the riding crop. He pecked 
her gently on one nipple until she opened her eyes, and 
he watched her recoil with a smile from ear to ear as 
she focused on the thing in his hands. The handle of 
the crop had a tiny loop of cord, and this he used to 
hang it from one engorged nipple. She made tiny cries 
of pleasure from behind the gag. He wanted her to know 
her much loved friend was close at her side. It dangled 
from her breast, swinging in gentle arcs.

The third and final act was a blindfold, thick and 
heavy and leather.

Without her eyes, she could spend all her time 
concentrating on her other senses, particularly her 
sense of touch. He would drop in from time to time and 
give the most delicate, the most subtle of kisses with 
the crop, and many other things, and she'd never know 
when or where they were coming from. It would be a long 
and wonderful night for her, and when he released her 
from the pole sometime during the coming day, she'd be 
intimately aware that the term "ONE NIGHT STAND" could 
have many connotations!

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 30