Strait Jacket Novels & Stories

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.

A fit, straight gown with detached parts held up by transparent nettings. Tyler Harris just earned his place at the top of her punishment list.

"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."

Wearing a crisp, white button-up shirt and slim gray slacks with matching linen jacket that looked far better than off-the-rack, he looked aristocratically elegant in his usually meticulous style. Connor didn’t like disorder, or sloppy appearances, and this morning he seemed especially slick–armor-like, as if preparing for battle.

XERXES I shifted in my seat, suppressing a groan as my fingers drummed against the polished arm of the chair. Gold embroidery gleamed on the sleeves of my ceremonial jacket, catching the dim candlelight, while the heavy, royal-blue fabric weighed on my shoulders like a boulder. This suit was made to command attention, crafted from the finest velvet and adorned with intricate golden designs that reflected my family’s standing. But right now, it felt like a straitjacket.

Draped over his broad shoulders was a sleek, charcoal grey jacket, impeccably fitted to accentuate his masculine frame. Beneath the jacket, a crisp white dress shirt hugged his torso. The shirt's collar, perfectly pressed and secured with a silver tie pin, framed his chiselled jawline, adding a touch of refinement to his already distinguished presence. His pants, a matching shade of charcoal grey, hung effortlessly from his waist, tailored to perfection and embracing his legs with precision. Overall, this man epitomized timeless style and sophistication, leaving an indelible impression on all who had the privilege of witnessing his debonair presence in formal attire.

"I'm starting a fan club! The 'Global Brother-in-Law Fan Association'! And I'm the president!" Catherine and Marcus exchanged a look of weary amusement. The tension had been broken, albeit in the most chaotic way imaginable. Later, as the hour of the duel approached, the house fell quiet once more. Catherine found Jack in the master bedroom, where he was fastening the last buckle on a sleek, dark combat suit. It was woven from a silver alloy, light but incredibly durable, designed by a specialized division of Sterling Industries. She didn't plead with him to be careful. She knew words like that were meaningless now. Instead, she walked over to him, her expression one of regal resolve.

We're all bunch of shits anyways. I walked into the bedroom, the wooden floor cold against my bare feet. My uniform, pressed and freshly laundered, hung from a hook on the back of the door. The dark velvet fabric, adorned with patches, seemed to weigh heavier with each step I took toward it. My fingers moved automatically as I dressed, buttoning and straightening until everything was perfectly in place. The starched collar felt tight around my neck, the cuffs constricting my wrists. The uniform was a straightjacket, confining me in more ways than one.

Javier Ambroz made sure to get me lots of the clothes, with the damned excuse that I was out of fashion. He made me wear one of the clothes, a long Korean style jacket with some scarf. There was also something scholars used back then. He called it sun glasses, shuffling my hair, when I held his hand, “That’s the last inch of my pride.” I stated, with a serious look. “Oh, common…” Ambroz groaned out, letting it go.