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Grounding
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.
Grounding
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My girlfriend always seemed to enjoy seeing just how much
she could get away with doing some form of our bondage in public.
She does this partly because she finds it fun, mostly because she
knows it drives me out of my tree. Usually, I'm able to fast-
talk my way out of potentially embarrassing situations with
Mundanes, but yesterday she very nearly got me fired.
Yesterday afternoon we had lunch together. Afterward,
she accompanied me back to my place of work. I thought this
slightly unusual, since she had never before expressed an inter-
est in my work (electronic engineering,) but it didn't occur to
me that she had something planned.
We arrived at my workbench, where I'm currently trying to
figure out why the $&%@*! board on which I'm working is not
performing the way I designed it.
"Is this where you work?" she asked.
"At the moment," I replied.
I reached over to turn on the scope, thereby completely
failing to notice the huge studded black leather collar she
produced from her purse. Before I could even blink (it's amazing
the speed at which she can do this), she had locked the collar
snugly around my neck, and locked the end of the six-foot jack
chain to the center of the bench (where there just happened to be
a mounting hole, dammit). I turned to face her in utter disbe-
lief, mouth agape.
"I'll be back for you at five," she said.
"HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY WACKO!!?!?" I yelled in a
hushed voice. "HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS???"
"You'll think of something," she said, dropping the keys
into her cleavage. "You always do."
"But suppose I have to go to the bathroom," I countered.
"Don't give me that," she said. "I've seen you go for a
whole day without visiting the bathroom."
"But..." I tried to say.
"SHHH! The subject is closed. I'll be back at five.
Bye."
She turned and left, against my hushed protests. I sat
in panic and tried to think out my situation. I tried to think
of all the people who might visit. Most of my co-workers were
friends who knew that my girlfriend and I were a bit odd, so this
shouldn't surprise them. But I had *no* idea what I was going to
say if one of my bosses came in. I checked my watch to see how
long I would have to endure this ignominy. 13:30 (I'm a military
time weenie). "Three and a half hours," I thought. I heaved a
sigh, and got to work, such as I could.
As it happened, three of my co-workers visited for what-
not. All of them immediately noticed the collar (it would be
pretty hard not to), and asked if it was my girlfriend's idea. I
said yes. They asked what I would say if my supervisor saw it.
I said I hadn't the faintest idea.
One of the aforementioned colleagues took the bench next
to me, and after a few remarks (and a question as to where he
could get a collar like the one I had), settled down to work in
silence.
After some time, I checked my watch. 16:40. "Gee, I
just might make it through this after all," I thought. I was
even beginning to get a handle on the problem with the #%^*@!
board on which I was working. Murphy must have been standing
right behind me reading my thoughts, for not more than two
minutes later one of my bosses entered the room. And not just
any boss. Noooooooo. This was Mr. Narrowminded himself. This
was the guy who took Lifespring *and* became a born-again funda-
mentalist. How he came to have the power of hire-and-fire over
us is one of the Great Mysteries of The Universe. We avoided
this guy at all costs.
His eyes fell upon me immediately. A few picoseconds
later, he saw the collar around my neck in all its splendor. "My
life is over," I thought. I still hadn't thought of a plausible
explanation for this. Mr. Solderbrain (the name we called him
behind his back; a corruption of his real name) started to walk
slowly and deliberately over to me, his eyes fixed on the collar.
Fifteen agonizing seconds later, he was standing next to me. I
thought the guy sitting next to me was going to have a seizure
stifling all his giggles. I continued to work, acting as though
there were nothing the least bit unusual about my predicament.
Finally, he spoke.
"What. The. HELL! Is. That??!" he said.
I don't know how I thought of what I said. In fact, I'm
pretty sure I didn't know what I was going to say until just as I
was saying it. I'm even more amazed that Solderbrain actually
bought it and didn't fire me on the spot.
I turned to face him calmly, with total nonchalance,
exuding complete confidence in what I was about to say, even
though I didn't know what it was yet. I didn't even miss a beat.
"Grounding strap," I said, and returned to work.
The guy next to me fell off his chair and nearly died
laughing.
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