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One Night Stand, by The Bishop
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
ONE NIGHT STAND!
by
"The Bishop"
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 them-
selves 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, care-
fully 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
the cheeks of her buttocks. The center strap-ah, the cen-
ter 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 straited
breasts, a short strap reached up to the bottom of a high,
padded collar. The only part of the thing she didn't under-
stand 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 watched her watching
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
reflecion 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 alot longer and was
left unbuckled. She watched it bouncing 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 was 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.
The playroom was just a short distance down from the head of
the stairs, which she thought was very, very fortunate.
They paused as he retrieved a key from his pocket. She
stood at his side in her "attention" position: legs spread
wide apart and back arched to present her breasts to him.
Damn, this is gonna be close, she thought to herself.
That damned strap ............!
The room was cool, and smelled of leather and sex. And it
was pitch dark. He walked out nearly to the center of the
room and stopped her. She went to "attention" and he walked
into the blackness. A bit of melodrama, she thought.
With an industrial strength "klack," a 500 watt spotlight on
the ceiling went on. Her eyes had only just begun getting
used to the gloom, and the light was like an atomic bomb
going off. She scrunched her eyes closed and yelped. After
a second or two, she cautiously peeked them open and got
the second surprise he'd promised her for the evening.
The suit had been ..... well, spectacular.
This was ................! She began to turn towards him in
gleeful outrage. "Why you .........!
And he was there, tiger-like in his silence as he snuck up
on her. The enormous gag was already being pressed to her
lips as she completed her turn. She never got another word
out. He packed and wadded and pushed the material until it
was entirely in her mouth and then spun her around to
buckle the strap. She gazed at her "surprise" as the strap
sunk into her cheeks and her lips were drawn tightly into
the gag.
Surprise number two was a dildo. A large dildo set on the
end of a pole sticking straight up out of the floor. Its
vertical length could be varied, she immediately noticed. A
broad leather strap at about knee level was obviously for
her legs. And from the front of the base of the dildo
another strap dangled. And she suddenly knew what the odd
buckle on the front of her suit was for!
He finished with the gag and walked around to face her. The
dildo-pole was between them. He gazed at her with
abvious pleasure, she liked the present! He stooped and
loosened a thumb-screw near the base of the pole. The dildo
sank. Still stooped, he looked up at her. She knew what
to do. She walked forward until she was directly over
the head of the dildo. It was very pink and VERY large.
He smiled up at her and ran one soft, warm hand over her
crotch, between her legs, and up her butt, and released
the center strap from its buckle.
Lubrication was certainly no problem, she thought to
herself. It was smooth as glass and warm, and slid into her
with one slow, continuous surge. It was huge, and she felt
wonderfully stretched around it. It was another straw on
the camel's back, she spasmed before its full length was
in her. Far from being irritated, he was openly enjoy-
ing her pleasure even as he threaded the strap at the
base of the dildo through the buckle at her navel.
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 en-
cased in her belly with the strap erupting out between the
smooth pink mounds of her mons and proceeding up a deep fur-
row 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 en-
tertaining internal friction, he imagined. Also, every
twitch, every spasm no matter how small brought the
devilish cilia into full play. With her wrists snuggled be-
hind 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 bot-
tom 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 in-
timately aware that the term "ONE NIGHT STAND" could have
many connotations!
END
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