Strait Jacket Novels & Stories

Chapter 15: Nicky "Do you think I look good or are you lying to me because I'm your friend?" Nicky looked like a model who had just gotten out of Victoria's Secret runway. Her long legs, thin body, and completely symmetric face were the perfect combination. And not to mention her charming French accent, she was truly a delight. She was trying a cute little dress and cared about Gigi's opinion. Even though Gigi hadn't been studying Fashion for that long, in her friends' fantasy she was already better than Donatella Versace herself.

"Certainly. Follow me please." They walked further into the shop and noticed the further back they went the more fetish oriented the products hanging in the racks became. The man seemed to notice Fiona's unease. "We keep the sports outerwear back here as well," he said with a gentle smile. They stopped before a display of jackets and the salesman ran his fingers along until he plucked one from the selection. It was black with numerous buckles and straps around the sides and back. Kyle immediately saw the purpose of the straps and smiled at the salesman.

Coward. Faced with the prospect of my first day as Alpha Alexander's personal maid, I stood before the closet, contemplating the array of clothes hanging within. Uncertainty lingered as I sifted through the options, seeking the perfect balance. A long-sleeved T-shirt, adorned in subtle patterns that mirrored the sophistication of the Alpha's mansion, emerged as the ideal choice. The soft fabric promised both ease of movement and a touch of casual elegance, suitable for following the bastard's orders. As I slipped into the snug embrace of skinny jeans and pulled the T-shirt over, a sense of readiness and determination settled within me.

he offered to Jirah. He handed it to the woman and his assistant accepted it. The jacket borrowed by the actor was long, but it was still made of the best fabric in the world, designed up to the knee as a fashion suit as well. When the woman saw it, she ordered her boss to hold it while closing its eyes. "Hold it first. I'll have a hard time getting dressed if I'm going to hold this while dressing as well, please?" flattery from a woman. "What? Are you serious?" The man clarified to her as the woman just raised her eyebrows, hinting that she was sure of what she was saying.

He first thought he would have to wear them with those but was greatly relieved when Lydia told him those were not needed. The most annoying thing was that these fashion conscious cuffs and collars came in several bright colors and Lydia was picking his attires to match them. Even what he was wearing was a powder pink sleeveless v-neck under a sky blue, long boyfriend jacket that reached his knees. She had him wear skin-tight, stretchy white pants after forcing him to wear a jock strip which she said was the only type of lingerie he was allowed to wear. She came with lots of them. -And his jewelry was a silver chain collar with a love-shaped pendant that had the inscription "Rolph's Pet.".

Chapter 63 Day one, and I could barely breathe. "Do I really need to wear this?" I brushed off invisible dirt from the outfit that looked somewhat close to a swimsuit, and as though it wasn't bad enough, it was tighter and clutched against my chest. "It's a compression jacket. It'll help you a lot more than you think," Clawface said into the open. We were in the middle of a clearing. An orange tree stood behind me, and I rested my back against it, arms wrapped around myself as I paid attention to the rest of Clawface's lecture.

It was as if I had just fled a combat zone with well-placed compliments and courteous smiles used in place of bullets. “Remind me never to agree to a breakfast charity again,” I muttered as my fingers struggled with my emerald silk dress’s absurdly tight collar. The outfit felt more like a finely tailored straitjacket after three hours of playing the adoring girlfriend even though it had looked gorgeous in the boutique. “Remind me never to attend one with you again,” Joachim said behind me. The fact that he had just spent those three hours feigning intense love for the benefit of New York’s elite was not particularly hinted at by the low languid current of his voice.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him due to the shame I felt, and I quickly tugged at the jacket he had given me to cover my black bra, which was visible beneath my wet shirt. “Can you give me the address of where I can bring your jacket once I have it cleaned? It looks expensive, and I feel bad for keeping it from you,” I said, trying to make amends. The suit jacket was styled with a single-breasted, two-button front and notch lapels. It was made of soft and lightweight tweed, with a satin finish on the inside. Although it was a bit too big for me, I was grateful for the coverage it provided. “Might I be so bold as to see you again instead? You could give it back to me then,” Jace suggest

He also wore a black hooded jacket with a high collar that shields his neck from the cold. The jacket had zippers on the sleeves and pockets on the sides, which provided easy access to his weapons. Underneath the jacket, he has a tight black shirt that clings to his chest and abdomen. The shirt has long sleeves that cover his arms to the wrist. His pants are also black and are made of a flexible material that allows him to move with ease. They have a slim fit and reach down to his ankles.

"Just for your information, you don't need a jacket. It burns here in summer." Matsyaa looked up at him and then down on her, "Oh, this! It's not a jacket. It's blouson." "A what?" Prem knitted his eyebrows and she explained, "A blouson. Um, a shrug. Like an overthrow? And, don't worry, it's made up of high-end cotton. It's very comfortable."