Part 1

Erica squirmed in her office chair. Tonight was the big party, and she'd just confirmed that her costume had FINALLY arrived. She'd searched and searched for just the right costume, and, after dithering for weeks, she had finally decided on what she wanted.

Every year the owner of the company, Mr. Caruthers, threw the most extravagant Halloween party imaginable. While officially it was for the employees, the customers were always welcome to join in...the very customers that never got their first appointment unless they had at least a million to invest.

Ordinarily the investment house and, by extension its employees, were always conservative in dress and action, but for company parties (and especially for the Halloween event) everyone was allowed to let the spirit of the party take them where it would.

After all, allowing for the girls to let themselves go had gotten Mr. Caruthers four wives. (The current one was a real Bitch!) Just thinking about Silvia gave Erica the shivers. It was looking like Silvia was going to make sure that she was the last Mrs. Caruthers. Every girl that got too friendly or smiled too much around the company owner always seemed to have an accident or was fired in a nasty and public manner. Erica wished the woman a very long, long, long marriage as she had no personal interest in the fat old lecher.

Getting her thoughts back on track, Erica reveled in the knowledge that there were always eligible bachelors at these events. And she was counting on landing one of them for the night....or longer if she played her cards right. So she needed something that would be sexy and really eye-catching.

She had heard about several companies that had been trying to sell updated women's transport uniforms to a new prison facility that was scheduled to open north of the city. She'd managed to review some of the proposals, and one of them had been the very thing she had been looking for. The company had even made a pre-production outfit for the pitch, and, since it was in Erica's size, it was the absolutely perfect choice.

It had taken a lot of favors called in and others owed, plus a lot of pouting and schmoozing and every other trick she could think of, but, after a lot of confusion in transit and lost records, it had suddenly arrived. She had already arranged her schedule to get off early today to be able to get dressed and get comfortable with how it fit. The reason she had selected it, was the kink factor the outfit would give her. With a few carefully delivered pouts and wiggles, she just knew that she would be a walking, talking crime looking to happen! It was just a matter of finding the one fellow that would sweep her off her feet and take her away.

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It was late-afternoon by the time she had collected the package from the depot and got home. Erica had been surprised that it had felt as heavy as it did, but figured that once she was wearing it she would no longer notice.

After taking a careful shower, she did her makeup and hair with equal deliberation. Her fine skin always allowed her to use the "less is more" makeup techniques, and she was successful in giving herself a smokey-eyed, helpless, bad-girl look that should go perfectly with the prison uniform. She artfully styled her long blond hair, in a tousled look that appears so natural, but can never be achieved without a lot of effort.

Finally she was ready to view her ensemble for the night. She opened the box and carefully sorted everything out, laying it on the bed. There were really only two parts (three if you counted the tiny g-string panties): the shoes and the dress. All the non-metallic items were in a bright orange material that was supposed to be both fluorescent and reflective. The belt and cuffs were in a black composite material with bright silver chains connecting things.

The shoes had a narrow wedge that gave the heel a 4" rise. She didn't look forward to being on her feet in those things for the whole night, but they would mold her legs in such a sexy, sexy way. There was an ankle cuff in the composite, built into the shoes, that would make sure the shoes did not come off until the right tool was used. The shoes were connected by a one-foot chain, which the proposal had called a short hobble chain. She agreed that with her feet connected by those silvery links, she would only be able to hobble about very slowly.

The dress itself was a tangle that took her some effort to sort out, along with frequent references to the directions. Looking at it from the outside, there was the VERY short, tight skirt that would hug her hips and, if she bent over, would give anyone behind her quite a show. Then there was the wide, heavy, attached belt that had four buckles over the belly to hold it closed. Above that was the snug top that would hug her breasts, and she just bet that her nipples would be readily visible to all. Above the top was the wide collar that would be secured around her throat. This had two buckles only, slightly smaller than the heavy-duty ones on the dress's midriff.

The parts that didn't show were the really interesting bits. One was under the skirt. Attached to the belt were two loops, one for each of the prisoner's legs. (The loops reminded Erica of a parachute harness.) Then up the spine under the top was a posture bar (also in that black composite material) that would force her to stand erect and thrust her breasts out, once the collar had been secured around her neck. (She was puzzled by some silver chains on the sides of the collar, but they looked good, so she assumed they were there for decoration.)

The final bit about the transport uniform were the wrist restraints, black cuffs of the composite material joined by a silver chain that went through D-links at the hip and then around the back. The chain could slide back and forth, allowing the wearer to raise one hand almost high enough to touch her chin.

Erica paused a moment, wondering if she really had the courage to wear such a revealing and hampering outfit. The thought of making herself so helpless both chilled and excited her. With an effort, she pulled herself together and reached for the shoes. Then, with a shake of her head, she realized that the dress had to be first. But, as she picked it up, she realized she didn't have the key to open the locks.

She dove back into the box the items had been shipped in and feverishly dug through the packing material. Where was it? Yes...no...yee...nnn...YES! Erica pulled it out of the box in a shower of little white pellets and closely examined her prize. It looked like a cross between an old mechanical can opener and a nut cracker. Looking at it, she thought there was no way anyone was going to hide one of these in a back pocket.

She took a few minutes to familiarize herself with how the thing worked and made sure that she could operate it one-handed and open the cuff on her other hand. Once she was comfortable with how to get out of the uniform, she decided it was time -- past time -- to get dressed.

She picked up the dress, carefully put her feet through the loops, and pulled the dress up her legs, discovering that the loops fit very, very snugly around her legs, and she had to pull them up tightly into her crotch to get the collar high enough to close around her neck. Once it was closed, she was surprised at how much it hampered her movements. The collar was thick and wide and forced her chin up, not allowing her to move her head much at all. With the bar running up her back, forcing her to push her breasts forward, it was like she was inviting attention to them.

Now that the collar was on, she tried to close the belt. She had to suck in her tummy and tug hard, but was finally able to get the four locks on the belt closed. She was sure that her normally 24" waist was now at most a 22" one. 

She stood up and staggered as her body from the waist up was held immobile, and she realized for the first time how much of her balance was from subtle movements of her body. Even after she understood what she needed to do, it was as if the harness seemed to delight in not co-operating. It was only after she could walk in a straight line again that she realized just how excited she was getting from the way in which the uniform was controlling her.

Now that she felt she could handle them, she turned to the shoes and realized that, while wearing the dress, it was almost impossible to put them on. Thanks, however, to years of yoga and determination, she was able to kneel and (exclusively by touch) was able to get them on and locked. With more struggling, she managed to rock back onto her toes and finally stand up, fully dressed. (Well, almost, if you count the g-string panties she 
hadn't remembered to put on.)

Erica practiced walking with the new limitation of the hobble chain, in addition to what the dress itself did to her. Quickly realizing that tiny, shuffling steps were the best way to not fall on her face, she held onto the cuffs, rather than locking them about her wrists, to get an idea on what she could reach and what it did to her ability to balance.

Taking a look at the time and realizing how much the full uniform limited her ability to move, she realized she would have to change her travel plans back to the party. Originally she had planned on getting dressed, except for the wrist cuffs, and then driving herself. Having realized how dangerous it would be for her to drive wearing the uniform, she decided that she would have to take a taxi. As a last minute addition, Erica put a change of clothing in a bag, together with the shoes and the unlocking tool. 

After slipping on the tiny g-string, some flats, and throwing a cape over her bright orange dress and a scarf around the unusual collar, Erica grabbed her bag and purse and stepped out to flag a cab.

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When she got to her office, she struggled to exit the cab, finally accepting a hand from the taxi driver. She blushed, sure she had flashed her panties at him as the skirt rode up. She felt embarrassed at her difficulty in doing something as simple as standing up, but again that smoldering tingle deep inside climbed to a new level. Wearing just the dress part of the transport uniform made her almost completely helpless.

As she entered the lobby, she could see that the security guard was away from his post at the front desk. She hoped he did a better job this year of making sure the paparazzi stayed outside. Last year one got into the building and almost got away with a whole bunch of really embarrassing photos. That annoying twit had ruined what was almost a very magical evening with a very cute guy. The knowledge of how close a call the party-goers had had just sucked all the energy out of the party, and she ended up going home alone.

Keeping the hood of her cloak pulled up and her dress fully covered, Erica made her way to the elevator and quickly arrived at her desk. Having practiced, she found putting on the shoes a second time much easier. She stored her purse and bag in her desk and left her cloak draped over a nearby chair.

Taking a deep breath, she locked the cuffs on her wrists and felt a shiver of excitement course through her. Now she was fully "dressed" and fully secured. With a figurative squaring of her shoulders, she headed back to the elevator lobby.

It was now taking her several minutes to reach the elevators. The previously short distance felt much, much longer. Since walking in these shoes was much more difficult than she had expected, she paused several times to both catch her breath and regain her balance. As she neared the elevator lobby, she passed a chrome column, and she took the opportunity to check herself out.

The image that she saw looking back at her was so sexy she almost fell over. She had been in such a rush to get dressed and up to the top floor (where the party was) that she had not taken time to retouch her hair. Her originally carefully-crafted look had become more mussed, and she was starting to sweat with all the work just walking had now become. But, instead of ruining her earlier efforts, it made her look way more sexy and helpless than she ever thought she could. She realized that she would indeed succeed and end up having sex tonight.

As she looked at her reflection, she was annoyed to see that the decorative silver chains on the collar had come loose, but, because they dangled almost like long earrings, she decided to leave them that way. 

She finally arrived at the elevators and pushed the call button. One arrived with startling speed. Maybe it had just taken someone else up, and she had caught it on the way back down.

Upon stepping out of the elevator, she could hear the pounding of the music, so she knew she had timed her arrival to be fashionably late. What she hadn't expected was to see Silvia Caruthers in the lobby, preparing to enter the party herself.

The taller dark-haired woman turned around to see who had arrived, and Erica got a bad feeling from her expression. Silvia was dressed in a skin-tight, floor-length black gown that was slit to the waist. She also was wearing very exaggerated makeup. As Erica shuffled off the elevator, Silvia sauntered over to meet her.

"Well, Erica! I see that you made a very...interesting choice in costume. Turn about and let me see all of it," Silvia said as she stopped just in front of Erica.

"Silvia, so...nice to see you tonight. It sounds like the party has already started. Should we go ahead and join in?" Erica replied, not wanting to be alone with Silvia in the mood she seemed to be in.

"We've got time, and I want to see your outfit here in the better light. Come on now, be a good girl and give me a twirl," Silvia said in a more emphatic tone and made a twirling gesture with one hand.

Erica, with a strained smile, gave in, slowly shuffling in place. Having to concentrate on not tripping on the hobble chain, she was caught off-guard as the other woman's hands snapped forward as soon as Erica had her back turned. Erica could feel her hands suddenly being pulled in tight to her waist, followed by a couple of tugs -- one to the right and one to the left.

Erica lost her balance with her hands having been dragged in so suddenly and started to fall forward, but she was saved as Silvia wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, but you ARE a bad girl, aren't you?" Silvia whispered into Erica's ear. "I've seen the way you look at my husband. And now you show up in an outfit that he's sure to notice," she hissed.

Erica was shocked. She had absolutely no interest in Silvia's husband. The company owner was too old for the 24-year-old Erica, and he was far too fat, and...and...euwww! Erica sputtered, trying to defend herself from such a preposterous charge.

As she tried to put the jealous woman at ease, Erica felt something being jammed into her mouth on first the right, then the left side. This was followed by a couple of tugs on the back of the collar, and the invaders in her mouth were pulled deeper, forcing her mouth open very wide.

"Bitch! I've seen the way my husband watches you in the halls. I can just imagine what the two of you have been up to in private. You can kiss your dreams of taking my place good-bye; you are finished here." Silvia forced her down into a kneeling position and then pushed her face to the floor, leaving her curvy bottom up and begging for attention.

Erica was in complete panic mode now. She was helpless and in the clutches of a crazy jealous woman. Bent over as she was, face to the carpeted floor, it was only the things that were jamming her mouth open which allowed her to breathe.

"Oh, how sweet. You even remembered to put on the state-issued g-string panties. And look how wet they are. You are a slut, aren't you?" Silvia used the toe of her high-heeled shoe to pull the skirt up, completing the job started by putting Erica into the doggy position.

"You know a slut like you doesn't need panties, so let me do you this one favor." Silvia reached down and tore the tiny garment off Erica with a quick, vicious tug. Erica grunted and wiggled her ass -- the only things she could to in response.

"You didn't know that I was on the review board for this uniform, did you? That's why I know about these interesting little bits that they built in for troublesome prisoners...like the locking down of the hands to prevent clawing and the jaw-breakers to prevent biting." As she spoke, Silvia used her high-heel to poke at Erica's exposed rosebud, eliciting squeals of denial and protest.

"You know, seeing as how excited you are, I think I know just what to do now. Do you remember Hans and Antonio? I'm sure they've noticed you and would LOVE to...help you...deal with your excitement. Now, you just stay right there, and we'll be back before you know it...." Silvia's voice faded as she walked away.

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