"Pour Moi?"
I grinned sheepishly, melting in the glorious sunshine of Khalidah's smile. My heart soared, my arms not so much. The heft of the box took me completely by surprise.
Khalidah displayed no hint of stress as she held the neatly tied package out to me, arms fully extended, and she's a lot shorter than I am. But Khalidah lifts weights, naked if she's working out at home. If Bev's out of town on business or otherwise unavailable she'll ask me to come over and spot for her.
I'm glad that's cool with both of them. I love watching Khalidah's gorgeous muscles quivering against the resistance, bulging with vital energy beneath her intricately-tattooed, olive-colored sweat-glistening skin. I imagine how it feels when she uses that awesome power to overwhelm me, to bind me, punish me, flog me mercilessly...pay attention Angie, I have to remind myself. I'm supposed to be watching out for your safety.
"Oui, pour toi."
Khalidah's voice jerked me out of my reverie. She wasn't naked that morning but her muscular gorgeousness still telegraphed though her snug knitted top and tight-fitting jeans just perfectly.
The box wasn't really all that heavy--I just need to get in better shape myself! Could this be something to help with that, I wondered. Tied with a black ribbon looped over a single red rose, nothing else gave any hint to its contents. No matter; I had a pretty good idea what was inside.
"Merci beaucoup, m'amour!" I replied, grinning even more sheepishly. Khalidah winced.
I just kid around, but Khalidah really does speak French and half a dozen other languages to boot. Some advice--don't test your French on a French speaker unless you're good friends. Even Khalidah gets answered in English now and then. Except when she speaks English. Then she might be answered in Farsi!
"Open it, Angie. I can't wait to see what Michael came up with this time!"
I untied the ribbon eagerly, heedless of the thorns. In just five minutes my clothes lay in an unruly heap on the floor and with the assistance of Michael's excellent quick-start guide Khalidah had me tightly secured in the bulk of my present's contents. The nearly empty box sat on the hall table, the rose and the handwritten missive Michael had folded neatly into the instructions resting next to it. Khalidah picked up the note and read aloud as she examined her handiwork.
"Hi Angie. I hope you enjoy testing my new steel reinforced rubber transportation harness. I think you'll find it much more comfortable than the shackles and chains Jen had you delivered in last time, and every bit as inescapable."
I have to agree--I'm wearing it as I write!. The rubber grips me firmly, almost affectionately, and I've since learned it even allows my skin to breathe a little. The bands circling my chest squeeze me enticingly outward--cinches to the left and right deliver reassuring tightness. Oblique bands rise from cuffs locked around my thighs, deliciously reinforcing my sense of captivity. They circle behind me, framing my buttocks as they cross my submissiveness-enforcing belly band, then intersect in the small of my back. They continue upward, stabilizing my chest bands behind me before they roll over my shoulders to cross through my cleavage where they rejoin those encircling bands, drawing them tight around my captive breasts. Mischief managed, they resume their descent, attaching once more to my belly band before returning to my thigh-cuffs to complete my torso's confinement. The harness fits me perfectly.
"I'm designing a machine to apply it automatically," Michael's note continued, "but that's a hard problem, as you can imagine. In the meantime I hope you enjoy having Khalidah handle that chore. I'm eagerly anticipating your comments and suggestions."
Everything is molded seamlessly together--there are no lumps where the bands meet or cross, not even at the locks--the keyholes are almost invisible. No metal shows through to mar the lustrous black surface, though there's plenty inside. When I'm wearing it I feel like I've become part of a manufacturing work of art.
Khalidah looked me up and down and smiled as we admired my imprisoned nakedness in the hall mirror. "Comfy, ma chérie?" she asked, snickering over her Franglais. "Don't answer unless something doesn't feel right."
I remained silent. Nothing didn't feel right, but comfortable bondage comes with a warning.
I had the use of my hands, but it was clear my wrists could be fastened to my thighs in an instant. For greater security during transportation, or merely for punishment, the quick-start guide suggested, my arms could be cinched behind me with one of various included accessories Khalidah began examining with wry amusement. She didn't take long to select the collar, peeling off the lightning bolt sticker before locking it around my neck. She attached its stays like mocking epaulets to the bands crossing my shoulders. As if escape weren't already impossible, I thought to myself.
Khalidah gave everything a final tightening and grinned, waggling the adjustment key with a threatening tease. Even with my arms free I felt thoroughly secured and, in Khalidah's company, very safe and cared-for. I sometimes wonder about the safety of leather. While I've never seen it happen, I imagine a strong enough person could burst a leather harness. Not this! The guide said its straps and fasteners are rated for five thousand newtons continuous, fifteen thousand shock.
Thank you Michael for including 'more than a ton' in parentheses. I won't be breaking out of this.
A narrow crotch-strap dangled from the front of my belly-band, detracting somewhat from the harness's elegant integrity, but it didn't hang like that for long. Khalidah concluded her perusal of the accessories, choosing two probes and greasing them with her irresistible grin, along with some lubricant from the tube Michael thoughtfully provided. Only one of the probes really needed any--she slid them both home with only token resistance on my part. She passed the deceptively delicate-looking strap between my thighs, threading it through the probes' protruding rings on the way, then attached it aft and took up the slack, tightening it until it nestled almost out of sight and just a little uncomfortably into my defenselessly welcoming valleys.
Integrity immediately restored! The crotch-strap's easily removed altogether, the instructions confidently asserted (should I need to be rendered accessible, I supposed. I quivered at the prospect), without compromising the security of the harness in the least.
"Hold the back of the chair," Khalidah ordered, fingering the remote. I complied, gripping it tightly--I was pretty sure what was about to happen. She tapped the intensity control a few times.
"I'll try it about half way up."
Khalidah pressed the center button.
"ARRRGG..." I doubled over in pain, my gut convulsing ferociously. I'd have fallen over for sure if I hadn't been holding the chair.
"You won't try to run away, will you?" Khalidah asked with a snicker. "Jen's expecting us at the House of Bondage in half an hour."
"Fifty percent? I promise, I wouldn't dare!"
"Good. We'll skip testing the collar for now." Her finger circled the remote--I could almost feel her resisting the temptation.
Khalidah pocketed the adjustment and release keys and with another tease-wave pocketed the remote. She handed me my overcoat, pointed me at my slippers and waved me through the door to my apartment. She locked it behind us using my key, though she has one of her own, and pocketed my keyring. My harness has no pockets.
Just as we exited the building the JenLiz limo eased up to the curb, with Seiko driving--that was a surprise. She got out and opened the door for me, blocking the view as much as possible given her petite body, while Khalidah fastened my wrists to my thighs and helped me in, hobbling my ankles the instant I was seated. She didn't forget my seat belt--then I felt thoroughly secure, especially after the solid clunk of the door closing. Sieko and Khalidah circled to the driver's side, Sieko helped Khalidah in beside me, then climbed in front to take the wheel. I was being transported to... well, I didn't really know. Heaven? Hell?
One thing I did know was that Michael's right. The harness is a lot more comfortable than shackles and chains, provided, that is, that Khalidah doesn't press any buttons on the remote. She looked over at me, her eyes radiating affection.
OWWWW...
Khalidah looked as shocked as I was. The remote lay untouched on the seat beside her.
Thought I'd remind you I'm in control too!
Michela's cackling laughter resonated between my ears, between Khalidah's also, given her irritated frown.
