My ancient BSA Lightning Rocket was feeling her power as we blasted along a straight stretch coming out of the mountains. Riding at over 100 miles per hour was too tiring to do for long and presently I let my speed drift back down to around 60. That would still get me to my destination soon enough. Emerging onto arid semi desert, the road undulated over rolling hills. I still remember, after all this time a very different life, the huge Bison standing in the middle of the road. With little time to stop to avoid it, I almost made it but another one that I had not seen blasted into me at a full run from the side. My world descended into blackness before I even hit the pavement.
I gasped as I wakened from the most horrifying nightmare. In it I was a mean, criminalistic, man that frequented seedy bars, and abused women. Perhaps the fates had conspired to put the shoe on my other foot in a vastly different way?

The searing pain on my lower back wakened me. Reaching back there was an extremely tender area; I could not tell the size. Perhaps it was smaller than my palm? “Do you feel your brand, Marcie? It will heal in a day and now you will obey me completely.” I wasn’t yet fully conscious. I remembered going out to dinner with Mark. We worked together at his Engineering firm, and dinner was supposed to be a work meeting. He had ordered us both martinis, but I had insisted on a Shirley Temple. I must have been in the bathroom when he drugged mine. I remember leaving the restaurant but not getting to my car.

“Your Car is still in the parking lot and when you are fully awake, you can get dressed and I will take you to get it. You won’t notice any difference with anyone but me, and when I tell you to do something, you will do it. He was right. When I got home, I had a long bath and then fell into bed, completely exhausted for the rest of the day.

The next day was Wednesday and I went to work, not thinking about what had happened. I remembered but was not upset at all. Sometimes vague, indistinct echoes a motor cycle and of the Bison crashing into me rang in my memory. We worked all day on the design of a new six story office building. He specified a two-level garage under it and the owners liked the idea. Later I found documentation that revealed a very high-water table. Mark thanked me for catching that and added increased pumping and drainage.

“That was sharp of you to catch that issue with the water table. I’m taking you to dinner. You will be my silent observer.” “Great, but please don’t drug me again, OK?” He promised not to, but I did not remember that I would have to do what ever he told me to do. There was a door in his office that I thought was a small closet, but it turned out to be a dressing room that included a full bath, larger than his office.

He told me to go and bathe and to put on the clothes he had laid out. The bath was wonderful. When I got out there were stockings a garter belt and heels. There was no bra but there were silicon nipple concealers that left me feeling insecure at first. They proved to be dependable, so I stopped worrying. I was just finishing when he returned carrying an orange lycra dress on a hanger.

The fabric of the orange bodycon dress was almost sheer but so strong. He held the hem open and helped me wiggle into the dress. It felt so tight and snug and as soon as I tried to take a step, I almost couldn’t. I’d put my stockings and heels on before I stepped into it. I was sure that the garters would show but they didn’t. My thong would prevent panty line. My heels felt towering but before I put the dress on, I could walk surprisingly easily.
It was surprising that my arms came out of the dress low on my shoulders.

He helped me to the door and draped a cape on my shoulders. I was thankful that he kept his arm tightly around me and sat me in his sexy car. He fastened the seat belt, and I knew he would have to take it off because I could not reach it. The fabric grew stronger and tighter, perhaps from my body heat I think, and by the time we got to the restaurant, he almost had to carry me in. He patiently let me hobble in tiny steps when we were inside and then to a quiet back room.

There were two couples waiting when we got there. I was mincing along as fast as I could. He pulled the chair out for me and helped me to sit, pushing it in again. I doubted that I could eat or drink very handily. The men talked about golf at first and then after drinks began to discuss the building that we were designing. I was intimately involved in the project but felt that I could not contribute to the discussion. The other women had nothing to say, just primly sitting there and smiling. I would remember everything that was said and that was all.
Dinner was ordered. He ordered Rib Eye with Sweet Potato and Asparagus for two. He had wine and he ordered me a non-alcoholic Pina Colada. He cut some of my Rib Eye for me and ate as he talked. I’m usually quite talkative but I felt no desire to contribute that evening. It seemed that the men had come to agreement and after eating, we said goodnight and Frank left, handing me along out of the restaurant and into his car that the Valet had brought around. Again, I had almost no mobility. The steps down to his car were impossible, so he carried me across to his car.

I wakened in my apartment, in my bed. How did I get here? I had no memory of it. Looking at the alarm clock, I could see that I had to be at the office in an hour. Rushing, I was through the shower and dressed very quickly in skirt suit and heels. Breakfast was a reheated coffee and a roll. Locking my apartment, I rushed out to my little car. Beside it sat a BSA Lightning Rocket.