Story - The Suit, Chapter III - BDSM, Mf

THE SUIT

Chapter III

Sharon killed the alarm clock’s insistent bleeping and sighed. She
rolled over on to her back and rubbed her eyes to wake up completely.
She’d had a restless night and her sleep had never reached the depths
necessary to dream. She groaned as two problems immediately presented
themselves. First she had a maddening itch all over her sex, and
second she had to take a dump. She rolled out of bed and stepped into
the bathroom, trying her best to ignore the itch. She seated herself
on the toilet and concentrated. After a while the urine started
flowing and she relaxed, enjoying the simple pleasure of urinating.
Soon she was empty and she waited patiently for the next part. She
could feel the waste inside her, ready to come out. The problem was
the wire over her anus. Her spinchter was clenched closed tightly,
unwilling to relax. Sharon tried to squeeze, but that hurt so she just
sat there. She leaned back against the toilet, closed her eyes and
tried to relax the muscle. The pressure was slowly building and she
knew sooner or later it would happen, there could be no other way. The
itching around her sex was slowly getting worse and it took all of her
willpower not to try and scratch it. Quite unexpectedly the feces
started to emerge and again she sighed in relief. She realized that
her mind needed to be distracted for mother nature to take it’s
course. Patiently she waited until she’d done and she stood up. She
could not avoid a curious glance into the toilet. As she had expected
each chunk was neatly split in half by the wire. She cleaned herself
and inspected the bottom of the suit with a small mirror. She had to
be very careful not to have any of the feces slip in under the suit,
if it reached her sex it could have disastrous medical consequences.
She was happy to see that the wire only flared into a plate once it
was well removed from her anus. Her suit differed from conventional
chastity belts in that it prevented rear entry into the sex with the
stem of the dildo, rather than a plate. Satisfied that she was clean
she stepped into the shower to cleans the rest of her body.

Sharon stood at her front door and took a deep breath. She opened the
door and peeked down the hall. She could not see anybody and the
breath in her lungs came out in a deep sigh of relief. She
straightened her back (figuratively), gathered her courage and stepped
through the door. Trying to act as normal as she could she locked the
door and walked down the passage. Rounding the corner at the end of
the passage she saw two young men standing at the elevator. All her
courage disappeared and she almost fled back to her apartment. Pausing
for a moment she waited for her heartbeat to settle. When she was
finally calm enough she took a few steps forward and stood in the
corner of the foyer. Both men had noticed her approach and as she
stood looking at her feet she could hear them softly whisper to each
other. She blushed deeply as she imagined them discussing her figure
and again she almost fled. Instead she stood quietly, longing for the
elevator to arrive. Her clothes were all wrong, but she had little
choice in the matter. She was dressed in a brown knitted bodysuit with
long sleeves and high turtleneck. With the bodysuit she wore a flowing
gray skirt and pantyhose. On her feet she wore dark brown pumps with
modest 3 inch heels. The bodysuit was tight and the knitted fabric
stretched over her figure, revealing every curve. She’d wanted to wear
a dress but none of her dresses would cover her chest and neck. She’d
thought of combining a dress with the bodysuit, but besides looking
strange it would also be way to hot. It was going to be a warm day and
she could already feel her body growing hot under the knitted wool and
metal. 
She cursed her boss again, he had refused to give her a few days off.
She’d claimed that she was sick but he had insisted on a doctor’s
note. He was clearly not happy that she’d taken Friday off without
telling anybody.
As she stood waiting, her mind started playing tricks on her. She grew
convinced the men were discussing her suit. They must be able to see
it, after all it was just below the surface of the bodysuit. Maybe
there was a seam or ridge that she’d not noticed. She glanced up at
the men and caught sight of them both staring intently at her breasts.
She blushed even deeper and started moving back to the passage when
the elevator arrived. As the doors opened she saw that it was almost
full and her courage failed. There was no way she would be able to
stand shoulder to shoulder with the other people. She could hear the
surprised remarks as she fled through the nearest door. It took her to
the stairs and by the time she had regained control of herself she had
rushed down two flights. She stopped and leaned against one of the
walls, taking deep breaths of air. Finally she felt calmer and she
walked down the stairs at a normal rate. She had another 14 flights of
stairs to go and as she walked her mind began to wander. 

It took her six more flights before she realized that she was growing
seriously horny. She stopped for a moment and looked around. Certain
that she was alone she lifted the skirt and felt between her legs.
Already the stretched fabric of the bodysuit was damp, and she blushed
at the thought of walking around with her juices flowing. She realized
that the mere presence of the dildo was keeping her exited, whether
she noticed it or not. It was actually surprising that she could even
walk normally with her stuffed sex, but then it was a very thin dildo.
When she’d worn her own dildo’s she had a tendency to roll her hips or
waddle like a duck. With the assistance of the strip down her spine
and restriction around her waist her posture had actually been very
good. On flat ground she could walk quite normally, however the steps
had forced her hips to roll, causing a small amount of friction. For a
while she wondered what she would do. In order to go back to the flat
she would have to use the elevator. She was already so late that
climbing the stairs back up would be disastrous. She was still trying
to gather the courage when she realized that her finger had slipped in
between the damp bodysuit and slippery dome. She withdrew her hand in
angry disgust and continued down the steps. What was it with her! She
felt like a nymphomaniac, unable to resist touching herself every five
minutes! Clenching her hands behind her back she continued down the
stairs. For now the sanitary pads in her car would have to solve the
problem of the damp.

Sharon finally reached the underground parking level and she sighed in
relief as she walked on the flat concrete floor. As people and cars
moved about the large open space she kept her head down and walked
straight to her car. She got in and leaned back in relief. The car
created the illusion of isolation and she closed her eyes for a
moment. Her sex was throbbing, both from the stairs and the itching.
She could also feel that a small amount of chafing between her thighs
was going to be inevitable. Already the skin right next to the dome
was getting inflamed. She again made sure nobody was watching and
pulled her skirt up. She released the clips of the bodysuit and stuck
a sanitary pad over the holes. Re-fastening the clips she straightened
her skirt and applied some deodorant for good measure. Before she
could set off she had to adjust her driving position, raising the back
of the chair to compensate for her spine’s straight back. She set off
into traffic, her nipples throbbing mercilessly from all the activity.

Morning traffic was always heavy and she made her way slowly down the
streets of the city. A few blocks from her office building she came to
a stop behind a police cruiser. With a start she realized that she’d
not even considered going to the police. Why was that? Had she been
robbed or assaulted it would have been her first stop, why not now?
The traffic moved on and she had to concentrate on her driving so she
dropped the issue for now. 
Reaching her destination she parked and started walking to the office.
She worked as a junior accounts manager for a large accounting firm.
As she neared the office her trepidation grew. How was she going to
spend the day in the close company of other people? Her stunt at the
flat had already proven that she was in no position to deal with
people, she was still to ashamed and afraid. Standing outside her
building she pretended to rummage through some papers as she debated
with herself. She could leave now, go home and claim she was to sick
to come in, no matter what the boss said. After all he couldn’t fire
her for taking a few days, could he? She should quit anyway, any boss
that acted like he did was just trouble. Get herself a nice new job,
maybe working from home? 
Sharon scolded herself for being so weak. She’d always been a strong
woman, not standing back for anyone. Just because she was wearing a
strange garment did not mean anything should change. She was still the
old Sharon, no piece of shiny metal would change that! How were they
going to know anyway. Today she’d go to the cops and they’d be able to
help her. For now she had to act as if nothing was wrong. Flinging her
hair in defiance she stepped through the revolving glass door.
As soon as she entered the building her courage fled. The place was
packed and she could feel people jostling and pushing her towards the
elevators. She tried to get out but was swept up in the stream of
humanity. Finally she ended up in a large crowd waiting for the
elevators. Clenching her jaws she willed her legs to stop quivering
and stood staring at the floor. She’d simply wait until the next
elevator and quietly slip to one side. 
As she stood she prayed nobody would accidently touch her body. The
lift arrived and she prepared to make her move. The crowd started
pushing forward and she quietly slipped to one side. She was about to
walk away when she heard her name called. She turned around and almost
fainted as a spotty young man stood inside the elevator, holding a
space for her. His name was Mark and he had a terrible crush on her.
Realizing everybody was waiting for her she tried to think of an
excuse but none came to mind. Cursing Mark she stepped into the
elevator and quietly turned around. As she stood staring at the door
she could feel Mark’s eyes on her. "You look nice today" he said and
immediately blushed a deep shade of red. "Thank you." she said
tersely, cursing the little twerp in her heart. She was intensely
aware of the other bodies around her and she longed to get off the
elevator. The blasted thing stopped on virtually every floor and each
time she had to quickly step out to prevent the departing passengers
touching her. She was all elbows and hands, trying to keep a bigger
personal space around her. Finally she reached her floor and she
sighed in relief as she got of. "See you around." said Mark as the
elevator doors closed. The little bastard would probably go through
the whole day in a daze just because he’d spoken to her. Her old spunk
had returned and she set off for her office.

Sharon leaned back and rubbed her tired eyes. Immediately she became
aware of the itching over her sex. Groaning she tried to return to her
work, but she was just to tired. She’d been working full-blast for the
whole day, her eyes straining as she stared at the computer screen.
She’d discovered that the work could distract her enough to forget the
itching but as soon as she took a break she’d be reminded off it. It
had definitely grown worse since the morning and she dreaded having to
go back to her lonely apartment where she’d have nothing to keep her
attention focused. She glanced at her watch and was very surprised to
see that it was past 7 p.m. She packed up her stuff and left the
office.
Standing in the lift she thought back over the day’s events. It had
started with a very unpleasant conversation with her boss. The man had
accused her of slacking off and doing what she liked. She fumed as she
though back to the argument. The bastard had had it in for her ever
since she’d ignored his advances. He was a egotistical pig that still
believed women didn’t belong in the work place. She could not believe
that such people still existed, and here she worked for one!
The rest of the day had been fairly routine. She’d had some
conversations, drank some coffee, worked and had lunch. Within the
first hour she’d relaxed and been able to function normally. During
her lunch hour she’d gone out and bought virtually a complete new
wardrobe. It was mostly blouses, all of them with tight little
collars. She had groaned at the selection, these kinds of clothes
she’d always associated with prim little librarians, now she’d be
forced to wear them as well. She’d bought a few bodysuits as well, but
she still felt uncomfortable with such tight-fitting garments and she
doubted she’d wear any of them soon. Finally she’d bought a dress, the
only one in the store that would suit her needs. She’d been forced to
try a fitting as she was no longer sure of her collar size, and there
had been a tense moment when one of the sales ladies had stood outside
the cubicle, inquiring if she’d like some assistance. She’d had to
really concentrate to keep the quiver out of her voice as she declined
the offer, a thin curtain separating her from discovery. It was only
back at the office that she’d thought of the security cameras and her
legs had turned to Jell-O. Out there might be a stranger that knew her
secret and as she walked through the lobby she was still very
distressed by the idea. She quickly made her way to her car and got
in. 
During the day she’d twice gotten very close to calling the police and
every time she’d backed off. Her rational mind had thrown several good
reasons at her for not phoning the police. Firstly she doubted she
could go through the ordeal of baring her body to a stranger. Just the
thought made her shiver. Secondly had been the suit’s creator. Surely
he had to know that was what she’d do. Somehow he’d prevent her from
going through with it. After all, he’d planned everything else to
perfection. Thirdly she was not yet convinced she couldn’t remove it
herself. She’d intended buying some tools after work, but obviously it
was now to late for that. She’d have to do it tomorrow. There was a
fourth and final reason as well, but she refused to even admit it to
herself.
On her way home she passed a pharmacy and she pulled over. Approaching
the counter she explained that she had an IUD and that the
contractions had started again. The pharmacist explained that he could
not give her the regular medicine as she needed a prescription, but he
could provide a weaker alternative. The medicine he gave her was for
night pains and he felt certain that it would do the job. She also
claimed to have acquired a rash from hiking and wanted to know if he
could recommend something. He gave her a salve and explained that it
was a mild anesthetic. She also bought some more sanitary pads and
disinfectant for her shoulder. Finally she happened to see some
sleeping pills and took those as well. Well stocked up she set of for
home.

Sharon lay back in the bath and soaked. The warm water seemed to
relieve some of the itching, though she could not be completely rid of
it. All in all her second day in the suit had gone well. She’d been
happy to discover that the wound on her shoulder seemed to be healing
without complications. If she cared for it properly it would be gone
within a week. The itching did worry her though. She was worried that
it was not going away. Would every itch she had be so insistent? She
was actually surprised that the rest of her body seemed not to itch.
The cast she’d worn had been torture and she’d expected the suit to be
the same. Maybe it was because most her skin could breathe that she
didn’t itch so much. Her lower back and stomach ached from the
constant pressure, but she felt certain that she’d get used to it
within a day or two. She was even becoming used to the dildo. Although
she could still feel it, the sensation had shifted from constant
pressure to a dull reminder. She was confident that soon she’d not
even notice that any more. Her biggest problem at this stage was
keeping control of her mind rather than her body. As soon as she let
her guard down she’d start fantasizing and she’d get horny again.
She’d always had an active imagination and it was very difficult for
her to control it. Of course she’d not always been thinking of sex,
but now her body was constantly reminding her of it. Where she used to
fantasize about clothes or money or adventure she now found herself
constantly fantasizing about sex. Her mind was being bombarded by
subtle queues, the glint of metal in the mirror, the pressure of the
suit around her waist and of course the constant throbbing in her sex.

She climbed out of the bath and quickly toweled herself dry. As soon
as the warm water drained from the suit the itching returned and she
groaned in frustration. As she dried her hair she tried to think of a
way to alleviating the irritation but none presented itself. She
applied some medication to the wound on her shoulder and prepared to
see to the rash as well. She sat staring at the tube of salve when she
had an idea. Returning to the bathroom she mixed some salve with warm
water and dropped a few drops onto her stomach. It seeped into the
gauze and ran down her stomach. She could not make a gap between her
skin and the suit - it was much to tight for that - but she was
convinced she could wriggle and twist until some of the liquid found
it’s way under the panty. It was slow, exhausting work. She’d apply a
little fluid and then twist and turn until it had penetrated. She
repeated the steps so many times she lost count but after a while she
could detect a big improvement. Satisfied that that was the best she
could hope for she returned to her bedroom and applied some salve to
he inner thighs. She was exhausted by the previous night’s lack of
sleep and she got ready for bed. Just to make sure she took two of the
sleeping pills as well and crawled in under the covers. She had just
enough time to marvel at the weird sensation of the suit holding her
in it’s firm embrace before sleep took her.