As usual, I had put absolutely no thought into what my costume would be for Halloween this year. Ever since I stopped collecting candy door to door, Halloween had become a kind of disappointing, if not quite depressing holiday.
My college roommate was still trying to cheer me up after my recent breakup. He insisted that I join him at a “killer party” that he had attended the year before. Even though we were a few years out of school and moved into the city, we had stayed friends. Our lives paralleled each others as we got jobs, girlfriends, apartments and moved on with our lives. We had no conflicts of interest, and could help each other as a sounding board. Or, as was currently the case, helping the dejected get back up on the horse that threw him.
By the time I got to the costume store, it had obviously been picked over. I had no desire to wear a Nixon mask, or any politician. Zorro’s cape was out, there were no scrubs to be had, even the superhero’s were mostly sold out. The other thing that had been in the back of my head was that after the party, we had talked about going to the Halloween parade, which was outdoors. Some of the remaining costumes looked pretty skimpy. The mummy looked about as warm as toilet paper. How do you even put a coat on over that?
Finally, I found what was probably the last thing I would have thought of, a prisoner’s uniform. You know exactly what I’m talking about, a baggy striped top and bottom. It was super loose and stretchy, “one size fits all.” I could wear whatever I wanted underneath and stay warm, or remove a few layers and be cool. The costumer would still look exactly the same. Not even my third choice, but I was buying it the day before Halloween so what did I expect? Of course it did need a few accessories to make it complete.
“You want me to do what? Who are you and when did you replace my friend? There’s no way I’m letting you put those on me and have your wicked ways with me!” Paul was clearly having fun at my expense while dancing away from the open set of handcuffs I was holding in my hand.
“I just want to put them on you and see how they fit. Here, let me show you the key works.” I fiddled with the key and eventually it caught and the handcuffs opened up. What do you expect? They were $10 handcuffs with a secret catch to release them as well as the key that sort of unlocks them. This wasn’t anything like the precision of the tools I used at work.
“Here, see the key unlocks them. See?” I put the cuffs back on myself and demonstrated that the key actually worked two times in a row. “Anyway, let me show you the ball and chain.” It was the other accessory I had picked up at the store as part of the prisoner costume. The more I held it though, the more I realized that it would be a real pain in the ass. Clunky and in the way, not what I wanted at a party when I was already feeling self-conscious. I decided to just attach the handcuffs to my belt and leave the ball and chain at home.
The party was at a large club near the university. Guys paid $20 to get in and girls in costume only had to pay $5. I had a good paying job so was happy to outspend the broke college guys. Paul had not lied, there were women in costume everywhere and while there was music, it wasn’t drowning out any hope of conversation. He disappeared towards the bar with a “you’ll get the next round.” I looked around at the costumes and wondered who I would talk to first.
I found myself in conversation with a pretty brunette dressed up in a puppy onesie. I complimented her on going for the cute factor which made her smile. She told me that last year she had gone with a sexy costume and wound up getting her ass pawed so much that she chose this as a response. “I’d rather they pet my head than my ass.” We had a really fun time talking about the other costumes and just a touch about ourselves.
She must have been looking me up and down, because she asked, “Are those handcuffs real?”
I looked down to see what she was talking about and then I realized I still had them on my belt. “Sure, let me get them for you.” I dramatically produced the key from my pocket and then opened the cuffs. With no wrist in it, you can keep tightening the cuff arm through the lock and then it gets released out the other side. I was starting to play around with them while talking to the puppy girl. I’d flick the handcuff and have it flip around and catch. Then I’d push it all the way through and repeat it. After a few iterations, I was pretty good about not having to touch it when flipping it all the way through.
She had kept talking about being a senior and how she had no idea what was she wanted to do for a living. I’m not sure what prompted me to do what came next. Maybe it was the way she was waving her hands while talking. She held them up in front of her when making a point. The next time she did it, instead of flicking the cuff around and through, I slapped one loop on her outstretched wrist. It worked perfectly, flicking around and catching. Her wrist was now secured by something metal and real.
She just stared at the handcuff in shock. Her mouth was open, but I had broken her audio track. She had nothing to say as her mouth opened and closed.
Figuring I was already in over my head, I gently grabbed her other wrist and put the handcuff on that one as well. By this point she still hadn’t made any noise, but her gaze was going back and forth between her wrists. I experimentally pulled on the chain between the cuffs. She immediately had to follow wherever the chains let. It didn’t feel like she was resisting, looking at her face, it was like she was in a daze.
I unlocked one cuff which surprised her, until I spun her around and grabbed her wrist again. She was now cuffed behind her back which combined with the somewhat haunted look on her face, was incredibly sexy. I pulled out my phone and said, “You look amazingly sexy, even in your puppy costume. Smile!”
I wouldn’t call it a smile, but she looked wonderful, a little fear, a bunch of submissiveness, and I was hoping I was actually able to detect this now, more than a little turned on. After taking a couple of pictures, I reached back and undid the cuffs entirely.
She was massaging her wrists. “That was really strange. It’s like you controlled me and I couldn’t fight it. I’ll be right back, I need to go to the bathroom.”
Paul showed up with a beer and a friend, Sally. She was dressed as a catholic school girl and was pretty hyped up. She noticed the handcuffs I was holding in my left hand and sure enough a minute later she was posing with her hands cuffed behind her. She was facing away from me, looking back over her shoulder while her hands were in the center of the shot. She wriggled her butt this way and that while I was taking the pictures. Paul was looking on with lust and hunger in his face. I gratefully drank my beer down while the two of them played with the handcuffs.
The puppy girl showed up a few minutes later with her roommate who also had to be posed with the handcuffs as well. Laura the puppy girl was staying pretty close to me while Abby her roommate was posing for her. She was dressed as a flapper, and when she kneeled down in the middle of the party for the photos, it was pretty crazy. People started noticing what we were doing. Abby kept striking more dramatic poses and Laura snapped a few pictures of each one. Eventually, they ran out of pictures to take, but Laura nestled up to me and said “Find me later, I want to see who else you convince to have their picture taken.” They headed back towards the bar.
More and more girls started drifting over to get pictures handcuffed. Two ladies dressed identically wanted to be handcuffed to each other. Another was dressed like Queen Elizabeth and had a killer English accent. She asked to be swatted on the bum. I laughed thinking she was kidding, but she wasn’t. The third time I struck her, I left my hand on her butt and she wriggled it underneath my hand. She laughed and handed the cuffs back to me, saying “You are lovely, but I have to go. Ta Ta.”
A lesbian couple (or at least one that wanted to look that way), came by with one woman leading the other on a leash. The woman being lead had on leather wrist cuffs and a collar with D rings in them. The one leading stood by and watched me take pictures of a nurse handcuffed looking up in fear at a werewolf above her holding his claws out. They asked me to use their phone as well to take pictures.
.... There is more of this story ...