Day Trip to Mirkada

I first published this story elsewhere under the title 'When in Rome...'

It contains significant BDSM themes but is essentially a story about an older couple on holiday finding an unusual way to reaffirm their love.

*

We'd read it in the guide book but I'm not sure either of us believed it until we arrived at the city and saw it with our own eyes. However, it was true, there were guards at the gate stopping all visitors and ensuring all women who entered the city were restrained.

'Still want to go in?' I looked at Sally, my wife, as she stood looking at an impressive array of handcuffs laid out on a stall. It was almost midday and the sun's glint off the shining steel as almost dazzling despite my sunglasses.

'I didn't get up at 4am and travel over 6 hours on a bus without aircon to give up now!' She flashed me a smile. 'But if we're going to do this I want to go in style.' She hooked a finger in my jacket and, turning her back on the handcuffs, lead me to another stall which sold other types of restraints including close fitting manacles, felt lined, instead of handcuffs and a variety of leather straps and bonds. This one stood in the shade and, though I guessed it would be a lot more expensive, I felt it was probably worth it just to stand out of the sun for a few minutes.

I watched her peruse the stall's wares, tracing her finger across the array of leather restraints much to the delight of the stallholder who gave a commentary on their relative virtues of comfort, softness and security while promising a fair price.

Eventually she select a long tan sheath that was clearly deigned to restrain both a woman's hands and arms behind her back and held it up for a better look. It had laces to pull it closed and two heavy tan straps to hold it in place.

'Ah, monoglove.' The stallholder positively gushed with pleasure. 'Very good choice, Mistress.'

'What do you think?' She held the monoglove against her. 'Is it my colour?'

We haggled with the stallholder and probably paid twice what it was worth but he did throw in a collar and leash for free and invited us further into the shade to help Sally 'dress'.

'So?' Sally flashed another smile. 'Dress on or dress off?'

This was something we had got from the guidebook too and had now had the opportunity to observe first hand. The women of the city wore garments made of leather straps that were part restraint and part clothing; our guidebook suggested that an equivalent for a visitor was to wear what it termed 'vintage style lingerie': bra, knickers, perhaps some sort of corset or cincher and, of course, suspenders. We'd both thought this was something to mislead gullible tourists but, as we'd got off the bus we'd seen several women in the sort of underwear that you wouldn't expect in this climate unless you were a true masochist. One or two had been wearing dresses over the top but most of them simply stood under parasols apparently enjoying their minimal clothing in the heat. A few of these wore collars and one had a pair of handcuffs still locked around one wrist, the other cuff dangling open. I'd tried to make a point of not looking them too closely but Sally could be in no doubt I'd noticed them and probably knew I'd enjoyed what I'd seen.

'If we're going to adopt the local customs I suppose the dress should come off.' I couldn't suppress the grin on my face at the thought of her shedding the thin silk print dress she was wearing to reveal what was underneath. 'Afterall, what woman wouldn't want to be displayed like this?'

'Her for a start.' Sally jerked her thumb back towards the gate where an Australian girl in a bikini top and shorts was arguing about the need to be restrained with one of the city guards. Her language was particularly foul and I saw Sally grimace; it was the second time that day that Sally had shown her disapproval of the girl, the first was when she and her boyfriend had spent the first two hours of the journey snogging and clearly going much further than that despite the presence of others on the bus.

Like me, Sally is a history lecturer at Cambridge and well used to the antics of her students however, she expects a certain standard of behaviour in public.

The stallholder made a dismissive gesture towards the girl and his assistant offered me iced tea and a seat in the shade from which to watch the action. Smiling, I sat in a padded armchair, lifted my cup and watched my wife shed her dress. Sally has a gorgeous body with long legs and curves in all the right places. She spends time in the gym keeping herself in shape and, I would happily boast, has the body of a woman almost half her age, except that it is delightfully more experienced. Seeing her in the cream lingerie she was wearing just made me happy to be alive. Glancing at me she could clearly see how much I was enjoying this and with a rather forced frown threw her dress at me which I folded and put in our little overnight bag.

The tea was ice cold and sweet and, I think contained a little spirit, it was delicious and I sipped it while I watched Sally put her hands behind her back and allowed the stallholder to slide monoglove over her arms. The man was clearly skilled and, though I'd have thoroughly enjoyed applying the restraint myself I'd never used one and was glad I'd chosen to let him do it.

Thus, after some ten minutes of lacing and strapping, readjusting and tightening Sally's arms were perfectly packaged in a sheath of smooth leather, pinned behind her back, her elbows almost touching.

'Well, what do you think?' She gave me a twirl, bending slightly as she lifted her bound arms thus providing me with a delightful flash of heavy cleavage served appetisingly in the lacy cone bra she wore and then the full curves of her lace clad bottom.

'Perfect.' I smiled, standing and putting down my tea cup. In my mind she was indeed perfect, the sheer seemed stockings to match the lingerie hitched to her suspender belt and the four inch heels were just the icing on a very delicious cake.

The stallholder passed me the collar and leash. Apparently this was something I was expected to do for myself.

'Don't think this is going to be regular experience.' Sally turned to face me as I lifted the collar to her throat.

'Oh.' I grinned. 'I was thinking we could start a fashion trend.' I brushed her shoulder length dark hair away from her neck and slid the collar around it. As I buckled it closed I'm sure I felt her give a little shudder though it certainly wasn't cold. Her cheeks seemed to flush too but then it was very hot. The collar had a D-ring and a leather flap with a slot in that closed over the buckles and, as I came to attach the leash the stall holder gave a polite cough. I turned to find him holding a small padlock which he clearly wanted me to use to lock the collar and leash in place.

I probably should have checked this was alright with Sally but the effect of the alcohol in the tea had lowered my inhibitions just enough that I took the lock and snapped it in place without question, pocketing the key he gave me. Then I clipped the leash too it.

I gave the stallholder a generous tip, paid his boy to take my bag to the hotel then took up my wife's leash before proceeding to lead her, clad in only her lingerie and heels, towards the city gate.

The guard gave us a slight bow as he shouldered his automatic rifle and allowed us to pass through the gate. His eyes were clearly drawn to my delicious charge and I could certainly forgive him for that but he didn't ogle her or make any sort of salacious comment; for him, this was normal.

Inside the gate was a short stone-lined tunnel, that in past times would have been used to repel any attackers that made it through the heavy wooden gates with their steel rivets and banding through which we had just passed.

Then, we passed though an archway and suddenly, were in the stifling heat and press of Mirkada. The sunlight dazzled again as we emerged from the dimness of the tunnel and the scents of spices and sweat and cloth and earth washed over us as we stood for a moment on the threshold of a new city.

Ahead of us was a wide avenue that lead towards the centre of the city. Men in dark robes hurried across our path, jostling with others in modern suits, however, the women who did indeed all seem to be restrained and, mostly, leashed seemed to glide past serenely despite the tumult around them.

To our left lay a market selling mostly food, wooden stalls shaded with canvas displayed fruits and vegetables, spices, bags of rice and wheatflour; the locals moved among them, examining and tasting the produce then haggling for the best price. To the right the sun was full on the street and the figures there kept to the sides of the street seeking shade.

Few of the citizens gave me a second glance in my linen suit but a some looked curiously at Sally as she stood, rather demurely, I thought, in her underwear and four inch heels with her arms sheathed behind her back on the stone pavement of the street that ran inside the walls. Despite Mirkada's tropical location, the citizens were mostly fair skinned and had red or blonde hair, a testament probably to their tenacious defense of the city historically and it's consequent isolation.

I could see now why the guidebook had recommended lingerie as the dress for women; many of the natives we could see did indeed wear garments made of leather straps; which were generally quite brief and left large areas of skin, including, in many cases, breasts exposed; some wore leather bras, usually conical or even metal ones though, generally these left their nipples exposed, few wore knickers though some sported kilts; a common garment seemed to be leather belt with straps hanging down to straps around the thigh, some of these held what looked like silk scarves to provide what we might consider modesty. A few of the belts had crotch straps and I found myself wondering whether these had any purpose other than modesty, they would certainly have made effective chastity belts.

Though to us this dress code and the need for restraint seemed a curious practice, it was clearly normal for the city and I watched as two women emerging from the market wearing little more than half a dozen belts and little heeled leather boots walked past us talking quietly to each other; as they passed they laughed, touching shoulders in what appeared to be a familiar gesture as they shared the joke; they had clearly been shopping and each carried a bag of groceries hanging from her shoulder; I could see fruit in the shoulderbag of one and a small package, the other's bag held bread and several jars; it was as if they simply walked with their hands held behind their backs but, as they walked away from us I could see one was sheathed like Sally and the other wore steel cuffs.

A gap in the crowds passing in front of us appeared and stepped forward, surprised to feel a slight jerk on the leash I held in my hand. I turned to find Sally following me but with a look of slight annoyance.

'Sorry.' I whispered.

Fortunately she grinned.

'I guess I'll have to get used to playing doggy.'

'Really?' I gave her a suggestive look.

'Don't push your luck!' She strode on almost leaving me behind.

The main avenue was wide and quieter and, by keeping to the left we were able to stay in the shade of the buildings that lined one side. Even here, the city was as beautiful as the guides had said, sculpted doorways and finials on the points of rooves, stained glass windows; between some of the buildings were fountains and small gardens.

We climbed the street slowly, partly because of the heat and partly because of the need to stop and gaze at some architectural treasure or objet-d'art in a window. It only took a few moments for me to grow accustomed to stopping for Sally to make sure I didn't choke her and I very quickly began to enjoy our new arrangement.

As we neared the main square with its grand palace and garden that we planned to explore we began to see what were probably more affluent citizens, many of whom had been to some degree influenced by outside cultures in their choice of clothes; the men wore mostly European style suits and many of the women wore lingerie similar to Sally's with a few in waspies or corsets visible; they wore heels too of about four or five inches whether they were traditional sandals or more modern patent leather boots or shoes.

All the women were, however, in some sort of bondage and for some this was quite ornate with arms restrained in jeweled leather sleeves the tips of which were clipped to rings on harnesses so that their arms were in some cases crossed behind them and in others fastened to the side of collars, some had their wrists cuffed to thigh cuffs. A few wore more elaborate metal restraints that were locked on their upper bodies often forcing their shoulders back and displaying their breasts quite beautifully. A few I noticed wore nipple jewelry and some were even lead by leashes clipped to their nipples. Two or three women we passed were gagged too.

Some of the women wore the traditional dress of Mirkada's aristocracy, the Vilisqaz, a garment of horizontal leather straps, buckled one above the other, running from a neck to ankle; the sleeves of these were mostly composed of straps too so that they could be used to restrain the wearer in a variety of ways, sometimes with her hands behind her back and sometimes with her hands at her waist or thighs and her elbows pulled tightly behind her back; though the leg straps were usually ornamental some women had to walk with short steps as their leg straps were joined to form a kind of hobble skirt. In some cases, parts of these traditional garments were composed of leather panels and sometimes these formed gloves or boots. Most of these women wore what we were later to discover was the traditional footwear of the city's elite, boots that made them walk on the points of their toes. The garment was usually worn with mitts that covered the hands, presumably making it impossible for the wearer to free herself. A few also wore what can only be described as a bridle, a harness that was buckled around the head, usually with straps over the nose and forehead and often holding a gag that usually took the form of a large leather ball. A few of these women were blindfolded too, walking behind their husbands, utterly dependent on them for guidance.

I looked at Sally as one such women was lead past, teetering on her toes, blind and helpless, gagged, leashed. The straps of her clothing parted around her breasts exposing them fully and a jeweled chain swung between clips on her nipples; her wrists were cuffed to her thighs and her elbows pulled in tight behind her. I could see she was drooling around her gag, saliva running onto the pale skin of her breasts. I could also see the tight strap between her thighs, pulled deep between her pale buttocks.

'Don't even think about it.' Sally watched her go.

'Why do you think they do it?'

'Tradition.' Sally shrugged. 'Though I can imagine that crotch strap could encourage a girl to dress like that.'

I looked at her sharply.

'No!'

We started the afternoon in the palace enjoying the ornate architecture and lavish designs and wondering why it had never been added to the list of wonders of the world. As historians, one with an interest in mediaeval history and the other in ancient times we visit a lot of old sites, both classical and non. The palace was both fascinating and beautiful. During the visit I think Sally almost forgot she was half naked and strapped into bondage except when we encountered other visitors in a similar situation to ourselves. Most, we noticed, hadn't chosen to reveal their lingerie and very few had gone for anything other than simple handcuffs. A few stated they would be leaving early to allow a little more freedom back at their hotel. I noticed one or two of the women gave Sally rather disparaging looks though their male partners seemed not to mind her approach.

She was reminded of her bondage more sharply when we stopped for a drink in the cafe and she had to drink hers with a straw but, typically, seemed to take this in her stride. After tea we tackled the beautiful gardens, staying until closing time when we were, reluctantly forced to leave.

Outside the shelter of the palace it was still oppressively warm as I lead Sally back to our hotel and the coolness of the airconditioning as we entered the lobby was a welcome relief after the heat outside.

I saw a number of guests look up at the sound of Sally's heels on the marble floor. It was clear visitors didn't need to obey the restraint rule here as a number of European women sat around in comfortable leather armchairs supping their own drinks and reading newspapers or conversing with their companions. I recognised a few of the faces and smiled as we passed them. The locals did, clearly, follow the rule and the local women mostly knelt on cushions beside their husbands as tightly restrained as they had been in the street; most of them, I noticed had their leashes clipped to rings mounted on the table in front of them.

As we passed one couple I saw the man lift a drink to his companion's lips.

I glanced briefly at Sally as we approached the reception desk but she didn't give any indication that she'd like to be released. In fact I got the distinct impression she was rather enjoying the opportunity to sashay across the lobby of an expensive hotel in her lingerie and the attention it was attracting.

I checked in and retrieved our bag which, I was relieved to find had been delivered unmolested and took the elevator up to our room.

'So, Mrs Frost.' I turned to her as the bell boy closed the door behind him. 'Can I help you out of those things?'

'You could start by pouring me a drink.' She scanned the room. 'I'm going to take the weight off my feet.'

I opened the minibar and extracted the raw materials for a gin and tonic. When I turned back to her she was kneeling on a cushion as I had seen the local women doing in the lobby.

I poured the drinks and sat in the chair beside her.

'Manners, darling.' She was looking at the table in front of her.

'What?' I reached for her drink but that was clearly not what she wanted.

'Do I have to do everything myself?' She bent and picked her leash up in her teeth.

'Oh!' I took it and clipped it to a ring on the table. 'Sorry.'

'I should think so too.' She smiled. 'Now, give me that drink.'

I held the gin first to her cheek and then to her lips. She took a long gulp then, after holding the cold liquid in her mouth for a moment lifted her head and swallowed.

'Oh, yes.'

'So you've enjoyed the day?'

'What's not to like?' She smiled teasingly. 'I've been lead around a strange city on a leash in my underwear in tight bondage. What else could a girl ask for?'

'What indeed?' I raised my glass and took a sip then held hers to her lips again.

'Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Frost.'

'Why would I want to do that.' It was my turn to smile.

'Well, Mr Frost. You might use it to take advantage of me.'

'I think I'm more than capable of taking advantage of you in your current state.'

'Are you now.' She raised an eyebrow. 'That sounds like a bit of a challenge to me.'

I took hold of her hair and kissed her. She tried to struggle, but not much and in a moment we were lying on the cushion with me half on top of her pressing our bodies together.

It didn't take me long to get her knickers off and when I did I found them already very wet, though perhaps she had been sweating. Then I kissed her a little bit more and slipped my hand between her thighs which she parted for me.

'Don't you think you're a little overdressed?'

'Well, if madam will excuse me.'

'Of course.'