Chapter 1: A Wardrobe Predicament

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Fa/ft, Reluctant, Coercion, Mind Control, Slavery, Lesbian, Heterosexual, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, FemaleDom, Spanking, Humiliation, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Doctor/Nurse, Body Modification, Teacher/Student, Slow, .

Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1: A Wardrobe Predicament - A young lady finds herself slipping deeper and deeper into a state of sexual slavery. As the kinky hidden world all around her reveals itself, she tries to discover who is behind her enslavement.

"Damn!"

Marie rummaged frantically through her drawer, searching for her clothes.

"Crap. I really need to do more laundry!"

The laundry situation had reached a crisis point, and she seemed to be out of underwear for good this time. To cap it off, only knee-length skirts lined her wardrobe, and the winter chills were beginning to arrive.

Glancing briefly at the clock, she realized she would be late. Quickly she grabbed a pleated kilt and a white turtleneck, zipping up a pair of knee-high leather boots that she normally saved for evenings out.

Fearing for her job if she did not arrive on time, she grabbed her briefcase and bolted. On her way out the door she caught a look at herself in the mirror.

"Oh no! I can't go out like this!"

Marie's nipples, erect in the chilly hallway, stood plainly visible through the white garment. Running back to her wardrobe, she threw on a woolen vest and ran to the train station as quickly as her high-heeled boots would allow.

The train was just entering the station as she got to the turnstiles. With her overcoat still on her arm, she fumbled through the gate and ran to the packed train, the morning air making her extremely conscious of her nakedness beneath the skirt. The bell announcing the closing doors sent her into a panic, and she ignored her fear of exposure as she sprinted toward the nearest car.

Marie watched in horror as the two door panels began to slide together just a few steps away from her. She barely had time to slow herself, and she hit the doors as they were only a couple inches apart.

Her frustrated wail turned to a gasp of horror as she realized that her skirt was caught quite firmly in the doorway. The bouncy pleats had swung between the panels when she hit them, and now she was unable to pull them free. She began to scream as she tugged on the kilt, trying to wrench it free before the train dragged her half a mile to the next station.

A thousand frantic plans zipped through her head. She could hang onto the side of the train and hope she survived. She could take the skirt off and hope nobody was watching long enough for her to put on her overcoat. She could fumble for the scissors she kept in her briefcase and cut herself free.

A second bell sounded, and tears flowed from her eyes as she reached for her skirt's belt to take it off. She had pulled the leather tongue from the buckle when the doors opened again, revealing dozens of concerned and interested commuters.

Mortified, Marie slipped the belt back together, picked up her briefcase and overcoat, and stepped inside the train. She quickly turned her beet-red face to the wall, looking out the window at the scenery and trying to avoid the stares of her fellow passengers.

"Hey toots, you're looking awfully smart today!" Angelica, Marie's cubicle- mate and only real friend at work, greeted Marie as she collapsed into her chair. "Going someplace nice tonight? What's his name?"

Marie grinned weakly and turned on her computer, ignoring her co-worker's inquiries.

"What's this, a spill?" Angelica rubbed at Marie's knee, trying to brush the black marks from the train door off. "Oh, don't worry, I've got just

the thing for soot and grime!"

Marie looked over to see her friend pulling some sort of packet from her handbag. She blinked, and watched Angelica open it and pull out a long rubber condom, shaking it to its fullest length before slipping it over her fingers. Smiling lustfully, she reached down between Marie's knees.

"Uh, what ... w-what are you doing?"

"Oh, don't you worry, girl! It says on the label it's safe on wool!"

Marie blinked again, rubbed her eyes, and saw now that her friend had opened a cleaning wipe, and the chemical-soaked paper was wrapped around her hand. Angelica reached down without a word and began to scrub the kilt vigorously, making Marie's thighs shake from the effort. Marie felt the vibrations in her exposed privates, and jumped visibly when Angelica slid her other hand under the skirt to make it easier to clean.

"There you go, darling, good as new!" Angelica shook the pleats out quickly, and Marie felt the draft on her exposed labia again.

"Ah ... Thank you, Angie. I wouldn't have noticed that if you hadn't pointed it out. I've got to go to another meeting, and I don't think I could have done very well if I had a stain."

"Nonsense, sweetie! You just need to be more confident! You're probably the best this company has, and you're knock-out gorgeous to boot. I envy you, you know?"

"Thanks, but I know you're just saying tha--"

"Oh buck up, kid! You know you just need to be more assertive! You're a wonderful gal, and you just lack a little confidence. Speaking of, how'd those confidence seminars go?"

"Eh, pretty well, I suppose. They're not particularly memorable. I did a few basic things, you know, insisting on little details at the bank and haggling prices at the fruit market. I'm not sure it's such an impressive program."

"Well you just keep it up, now. I think you need all the confidence you can get!"

Just then, Angelica's phone rang, and Marie took that opportunity to settle in. She hung her overcoat on the cubicle hook, and sat down once before remembering to straighten her skirt. The cold vinyl of the seat sent a chill up her spine, and she froze for a moment before timidly reaching down and brushing the woolen fabric beneath her.

Weary, she picked up her briefcase and set it on the desk, flipping the latches and slowly lifting the lid. To her shock, it was full of panties -- her panties. At the front was a card, lettered in a bold calligraphic hand, which read: "What better place to keep your briefs?"

"You ready for the department meeting, Marie?" A man's voice bellowed from behind the cubicle wall.

Marie started, and slammed the briefcase shut in a panic. Her hands were shaking, but they quickly threw the latches and spun the combination dials just as Joe's head popped gopher-like over the wall.

"Oh! Hahaha ... Yeah, yeah sure. It's in five minutes, right?" Marie heaved a heavy nervous sigh as she tried to calm herself down.

"Yeah, third floor conference room. Say, you're not worried about this one, are you? Is there something I should know?"

"No, no Joe. It's not work-related. I had a rough commute, and I guess it gave me a touch of nerves."

"All right, but I hope there's nothing you're not telling me." Joe's voice was jocular, but firm. He could just as easily have been comforting her as giving her orders.

"No, it's really nothing."

"Okay, let's go!"

The meeting was one that she had been dreading all week. It was one of those status-report meetings that ultimately determined budgets, project approvals, and in the end personnel. It was the sort of meeting that could cost you your job, if you didn't impress the higher-ups enough.

She sat through the whole event, distracted, thinking about what was in her briefcase and the cold air she could feel against her crotch. She felt vulnerable and small, like someone else was running her life. She kept looking around the room, wondering if any of them knew, if any of them could see her shirt beneath the vest, if any of them could smell her unclothed snatch.

When the meeting broke for lunch, she sped to her cubicle. She arrived only to find her desk bare. Her briefcase was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, where's my briefcase?"

Angelica stepped into the cubicle, stirring a steaming cup of tea that she had just made. "Oh, the tech guy was here to fix my computer, and needed the space to set up his kit. It's under your coat."

Marie grabbed it and ran to the women's restroom, diving into a toilet stall and popping it open as quickly as her nervous fingers would allow. The underwear was still there, and she heaved a heavy sigh of relief. Reaching in she pulled out her favorite satin pair, only to realize that the crotch had been cut out of it.

Horrified, she pulled out another, only to see that it had been given the same treatment. Every single pair of briefs she owned had a big hole in the crotch, and some even had holes at the cheeks. Sobbing quietly, she reached the bottom of the pile, and found a nicely wrapped gift box with a card tied to the ribbon.

She tore the card off and opened it. In the same bold yet elegant calligraphy, it said:

My dearest Marie,

It was with regret that I learned of your little wardrobe problem. In an effort to help you out, I decided to get you a little gift early this year. Wear them in good health.

The card was unsigned.

Marie tore open the metallic silver wrapping paper to reveal a leather folder. Undoing the clasp, the folder opened to reveal a pair of panties and a brassiere. Both were made of a glossy black material that quivered in her shaky grasp. Marie realized with a combination of revulsion and fascination that they were made of black latex rubber.

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