95 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
95 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
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Archive-name: Bondage/benched.txt
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Archive-author:
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Archive-title: Benched
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My girlfriend always seemed to enjoy seeing just how much she could
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get away with doing some form of our bondage in public. She does this
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partly because she finds it fun, mostly because she knows it drives me out
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of my tree. Usually, I'm able to fast-talk my way out of potentially
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embarrassing situations with Mundanes, but yesterday she very nearly got me
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fired.
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Yesterday afternoon we had lunch together. Afterward, she
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accompanied me back to my place of work. I thought this slightly unusual,
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since she had never before expressed an interest in my work (electronic
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engineering), but it didn't occur to me that she had something planned.
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We arrived at my workbench, where I'm currently trying to figure
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out why the $&%@*! board on which I'm working is not performing the way I
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designed it.
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"Is this where you work?" she asked.
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"At the moment," I replied.
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I reached over to turn on the scope, thereby completely failing to
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notice the huge studded black leather collar she produced from her purse.
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Before I could even blink (it's amazing the speed at which she can do this),
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she had locked the collar snugly around my neck, and locked the end of the
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six-foot jack chain to the center of the bench (where there just happened
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to be a mounting hole, dammit). I turned to face her in utter disbelief,
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mouth agape.
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"I'll be back for you at five," she said.
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"HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY WACKO!!?!?" I yelled in a hushed voice.
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"HOW THE HELL AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS???"
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"You'll think of something," she said, dropping the keys into her
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cleavage. "You always do."
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"But suppose I have to go to the bathroom," I countered.
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"Don't give me that," she said. "I've seen you go for a whole day
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without visiting the bathroom."
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"But...," I tried to say.
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"SHHH! The subject is closed. I'll be back at five. Bye."
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She turned and left, against my hushed protests. I sat in panic and
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tried to think out my situation. I tried to think of all the people who
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might visit. Most of my co-workers were friends who knew that my
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girlfriend and I were a bit odd, so this shouldn't surprise them. But I
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had *no* idea what I was going to say if one of my bosses came in. I
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checked my watch to see how long I would have to endure this ignominy.
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13:30 (I'm a military time weenie). "Three and a half hours," I thought.
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I heaved a sigh, and got to work, such as I could.
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As it happened, three of my co-workers visited for what-not. All of
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them immediately noticed the collar (it would be pretty hard not to), and
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asked if it was my girlfriend's idea. I said yes. They asked what I would
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say if my supervisor saw it. I said I hadn't the faintest idea.
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One of the aforementioned colleagues took the bench next to me, and
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after a few remarks (and a question as to where he could get a collar like
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the one I had), settled down to work in silence.
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After some time, I checked my watch. 16:40. "Gee, I just might
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make it through this after all," I thought. I was even beginning to get
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a handle on the problem with the #%^*@! board on which I was working. Murphy
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must have been standing right behind me reading my thoughts, for not more
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than two minutes later one of my bosses entered the room. And not just any
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boss. Noooooooo. This was Mr. Narrowminded himself. This was the guy who
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took Lifespring *and* became a born-again fundamentalist. How he came to
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have the power of hire-and-fire over us is one of the Great Mysteries of
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The Universe. We avoided this guy at all costs.
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His eyes fell upon me immediately. A few picoseconds later, he saw
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the collar around my neck in all its splendor. "My life is over," I
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thought. I still hadn't thought of a plausible explanation for this. Mr.
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Solderbrain (the name we called him behind his back; a corruption of his
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real name) started to walk slowly and deliberately over to me, his eyes
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fixed on the collar. Fifteen agonizing seconds later, he was standing next
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to me. I thought the guy sitting next to me was going to have a siezure
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stifling all his giggles. I continued to work, acting as though there were
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nothing the least bit unusual about my predicament.
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Finally, he spoke.
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"What. The. HELL! Is. That??!" he said.
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I don't know how I thought of what I said. In fact, I'm pretty sure
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I didn't know what I was going to say until just as I was saying it. I'm
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even more amazed that Solderbrain actually bought it and didn't fire me on
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the spot.
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I turned to face him calmly, with total nonchalance, exuding
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complete confidence in what I was about to say, even though I didn't know
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what it was yet. I didn't even miss a beat.
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"Grounding strap," I said, and returned to work.
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The guy next to me fell off his chair and nearly died laughing.
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--
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