Ray walked through the crowded aisles of Cashmon's Army-Navy Store. It was a favorite place for him to find unusual items for his unusal avocation - his role of Master Ray, Dominant to a small clientele of submissive women with whom he had occasional sessions, always at their behest.



Cashmon's was on the outskirts of town, along a freight rail line and some thinly occupied light industrial buildings on the state highway where the city began to turn to country. As he sauntered up the rows of old military uniforms and equipment and oddities that Cashmon stocked, he could hear Cashmon himself hobbling behind him on his one good leg, the other crippled leg scraping the floor. Cashmon was Army surplus himself, wounded in the early days of Vietnam.



"Can I help you find anything?" The old man asked.



"No, just browsing around for now." Ray answered, knowing the old man would trail him through the store as he perused the merchandise.



It was the same thing every time he came here. Sometimes Cashmon was helpful; sometimes a nuisance.



When Ray stopped to look at a half dozen woolen longjohns displayed haphazardly on old hangers, the old man laughed and said, "Those are one of a kind, that's for sure."



Ray took the conversational bait and asked "How so?"



"They were made for the Army's Antarctica station back in the early 60's but they were defective." Cashmon began. "The soldiers couldn't wear the damn things for more than fifteen minutes before they began to itch like crazy." He laughed. "The company that made them put some kind of fibers in them that were supposed to hold heat and fight the cold but the special fibers had some kinda itchy effect on the skin that made them useless because the soldiers would tear the damn things off before they could get the rest of their arctic gear on because of the itchin'." The old man said.



Ray fingered the material of one of the longjohns. It was a coarse wool alright but nothing worse than any old army sweater, it seemed. But even as he fingered the sleeve of the longjohn for just a minute or two, he could feel an irritation on his fingertips. He removed his hand from the garment and turned to Cashmon "Is it toxic?" He asked, rubbing his affected fingertips together.



"No, it's just damn itchy." The old man cackled. "The boys at McMurdo called them the Itchy Suit."



"How much you want for them?" Ray asked.



"I'm askin' fifteen bucks. Those're collectors items." Cashmon answered.



"You got any small sizes?" Ray asked.



"Check 'em, I think there's one small size. They are supposed to fit close to the skin. That's the hell of it." He laughed.



Ray checked through the longjohns and found one that was marked "S" and he took it down and examined it. It would be perfect for Jacinta, he thought. "I'll take this one."



Ray tried doing some internet research looking for information on the "itchy suit" the military had purchased fifty years ago but could find nothing. He knew it was only a matter of time until Jacinta, one of his submissives, contacted him for a session. She was due by his reckoning of the last time he saw her. Sure enough, a few weeks later, she called.



"Master Ray?" she asked quietly over her cell phone, the background noise of some public place behind her on the airwaves.



"Jacinta." He answered. "What can I do for you?"



"I would like to see you, Sir." She paused. "It's been a helluva week for me."



"And you need treatment, Jacinta?" Ray asked clinically.



"Yes, Sir. I need treatment very badly." Jacinta replied with a sigh.



"I have something for you, dear. Something I picked up with you especially in mind." Ray said.



"Oh, lovely, Sir. When can I see you?" She answered in a more upbeat tone of voice over the background noise near her.



"Immediately." he answered simply.



"Yes, Sir, I can be there in twenty minutes." She said quickly.



"I will be waiting, Jacinta."



"Thank you so much, Sir." Jacinta rang off.



Almost exactly twenty minutes later he saw Jacinta's coupe pull up in the drive in front of his house. The doorbell rang and he answered it after letting her wait for two minutes.



"Hello, Master Ray." Jacinta said with a small smile and a downward glance of her eyes. She was carrying a large athletic duffel that he knew from experience contained some of her own fetish wear and equipment.



He brought her into the foyer and he took the bag from her and placed it aside. "You may not need this today." He said and led her into the house to what was formerly a large study room that he used for sessions.



"I've been shaking all the way over here, thinking about you." She said. "I've had a very tough week, just got back in town from business, and, well, Master, I need discipline." She said looking him squarely in the eyes.



Jacinta stood there in a black business suit of short jacket over a white blouse, knee length skirt that hugged her hips, with bare legs, and expensive high heeled pumps. Ray admired her businesswoman beauty. She was some combination of Cuban and Mediterranean extraction, with thick black hair that she usually contained in a coif but when she let it down during their time together was overflowing and wild. Her body type was mesomorphic, athletic but fulsome with big breasts, wide hips, a hemispherical ass, and toned legs with finely muscled calves and nicely turned ankles. She looked magnificent naked without further adornment.



He brought her a small snifter of the expensive brandy she favored. She sipped it and it had the usual calming effect as the warm liquid worked its way inside her. "Thank you, Sir." She said, taking a second sip.



"You said you needed discipline, girl?" he asked her.



She took another quick sip of the brandy. "Oh, yes, Sir, I do." She said directly to him.



"Very good, Jacinta. Why don't you disrobe for me. As I said, I have something special for you."



She quickly put the snifter down on a nearby table top and began unbuttoning her jacket and her blouse, rolling them off her shoulders to drop them to the floor, unzipping her skirt, letting it slide to the floor and kicking it aside while keeping her heels on. Then she reached back and unclasped her heavily wired brassiere, shamelessly exposing her astounding breasts for him, pulled down her delicate sheer black panty and kicked it away with her well-shod foot. Her last preparation was to undo her tied-up hair and with a soft shake of her head the waves of black hair fell down around her shoulders, framing her face so that it appeared she looked out from a halo of lustrous ebony curtains. She stood before him naked except for the expensive high heels and placed her hands behind her back, looking at the floor. With her olive complexion and her incredible physical blessings, she appeared as a goddess before her Master.



"If you've had a hard week, pet, you may finish your brandy while I get your gift." Ray said and left the room.



Ray purposely took his time getting the itchy suit from a hall closet. As he re-approached the study, he could see Jacinta naked through a hall mirror, sipping the last of her brandy. "She is magnificent." He thought to himself. "Let's hope the itchy suit is up to the job tonight."



When he re-entered the study, she looked up at him, then down at her shoes. Ray held out the hangered itchy suit to Jacinta. "This is your gift."



She looked puzzled by the old longjohns which seemed even smaller next to her zaftig frame. "This is my uniform, Sir?" She asked, sounding deflated by the reality of Master's "gift."



"Yes, I think you will enjoy it quite a lot tonight." He answered.



She took the hanger hook in her fingers and examined the longjohns dubiously. "You really want me to wear this tonight, Master?"



"Oh, yes, I do, dear." He answered simply.



Jacinta did a quick half-curtsey with head bowed down and said "Then I shall wear it for you, Master."



While Jacinta kicked off her heels and began fussing to squeeze into the small one-piece suit, Ray went to a tall antique armoire in the corner of the study and began taking off a long coil and several shorter coils of thick, gleaming white nylon rope. He contemplated utilizing a large ball gag for Jacinta but decided quickly that he wanted to be able to hear her voice when the effect of the itchy suit began to make its unique quality apparent on her naked skin. When he turned back to her, Jacinta was wearing the itchy suit and stepping back into her pumps.



Jacinta looked ridiculous - yet strangely sexy - in the old longjohns which, as he hoped, were too small for her and stretched skintight over her luscious body. Her breasts were held firmly and strained against the tight, coarse material. Her ass was a vision of plumpness packed into the old material. The tight suit created a beautiful cameltoe between Jacinta's pussy and her long legs stretched down from thickly muscled thighs to tapered calves where the longjohn ended and the descent to lovely turned ankles began where her sexy feet stood tilted up in her high heels.



***************************



When Jacinta called Ray, she was in the airport where her flight had recently landed. She had been out of town on business and it was a grueling week of fixing problems and placating unhappy clients. Even before she left the ground on the flight home, she knew what she wanted more than anything: a session with Master Ray. A nice long session with Master always got the kinks out of her tightly wound psyche - pun fully intended. She even smiled secretly to herself in business class after running that wordplay through her mind.



It felt good to ring that doorbell of Master's large house knowing that relief - at least the type of relief she desired - was behind that door. And it was equally good to see Master looking as handsome as ever, giving her that special smile and eye twinkle of greeting they had shared so many times before. Jacinta always felt grand walking into the big house of her Master and by the time he handed her the glass of her favorite brandy, she was already aroused at the thought of what was to come.



She had an idea of what she wished to wear for her session with Master Ray and it was a shock - and a disappointment - when he gave her the funny looking longjohn to wear this evening. Not her usual session-wear, that was for sure! So when she stripped naked, she hoped that he would change his mind. She knew that Master adored her body, especially in fetish wear. She was certain the longjohn was a silly joke. But no, he simply admired her in the ancient and somewhat musty smelling one piece longjohn over her naked flesh.



Once the thing was on her, she had admired herself through one of the many mirrors in the session room. As ridiculous as it looked on the hanger, she was prideful of how well she filled out the too-tight material and the way it made her bust, hips and ass appear in the faded gray-green material. "Maybe Master knows what he is about, after all." She thought to herself. "I am magnificent in this thing."



*******************************



As Ray approached her with the thick rope, she said "It's a little uncomfortable."



Ray had to squelch a snicker at her comment. "You'll adjust, pet." He said and began a complicated rope harness on her torso that circled her breasts, holding them upright and outward, running over her shoulders and down her arched back, between her glorious asscheeks, through the center of her cameltoed pussy, and up the front of her chest again where he tied her off in a neat piece of knot work that left no extra rope to spoil the art of his bondage. He tied her wrists and arms with a separate length of rope, getting her elbows to kiss each other in a nice, efficient armbinder tie behind her back.



Jacinta sighed at the feeling of the tight rope harness. "It's very tight, Master." She said as she admired herself through another of the large mirrors in the study.



With two lengths of shorter rope, Ray tied her ankles together tightly and did the same around her knees. She was effectively immobilized now - unless she fell over and hit the hardwood floor. "I'll get us some more refreshment." He said as he left Jacinta standing bound in his study.



Ray very purposely took his time preparing another snifter of brandy for Jacinta and a tall glass of water for himself. He made sure to make kitchen noises as he slowly prepared the drinks. He put the two glasses down and checked his phone for messages. He stood in the kitchen waiting for the minutes to burn across the clock face until fifteen minutes had passed. Then he slowly walked back down the hallway to the study.



When he returned to his bound pet, he saw Jacinta with eyes afire, writhing in agony. "Master, this suit is too itchy, there's something wrong, Sir." She said in a panicky voice, searching his face for sympathy.



"It's fine, girl, just relax and I'll give you a sip of the brandy." Ray said studying her face and movements in torment from the itchy suit.



Jacinta struggled mightily against her arm bindings trying to get free. Ray knew that if she could get free she would shred the itchy suit with her bare fingers to get it off her skin. "Master, there is something wrong with this goddammed thing!" She screamed as she continued her tortured movements.



"Girl, calm down, you're only making it worse with all this panicking."



He held the brandy out to her "Take a sip of this and be still." He said calmly.



He watched Jacinta as she squirmed in the itchy suit.



Jacinta grimmaced and made herself be still although she beat a small rhythm with her high heeled shoes. She opened her mouth and Ray gently tilted the brandy up to her lips where she drank a small amount of the rich dark liquid. When she swallowed the warm brandy, she rolled her head back, closing her eyes, then let out a small cry of torment.



"This fucking longjohn is so itchy it's driving me nuts, Sir. Please, can I get out of it?" She begged as she fidgeted against the material and her bonds.



Ray made a mental note that despite her protestations, including this last impassioned plea, she had not used her safe word for relief. In many of their sessions he gagged Jacinta but in those times when he didn't he was always excited by her vehement and foul tongue when she was being disciplined. This was perhaps his most devious discipline yet. And all thanks to Cashmon's find of the dastardly Antarctic itchy suit.



"I'm truly sorry, pet, but the session is only a few minutes old. They'd throw me out of the union if I let you free so quickly." He answered wryly.



Jacinta shook her head violently from side to side, shaking her long black hair and then brought herself to a tall ramrod posture and looked him straight in the eye. "Fuck your union and fuck you, Master. I will never take this off!" She yelled the comment, then raised her voice to a high pitched squeal as she succumbed to another wave of the itchy suit's effect on her naked flesh.



Ray laughed, "That's the spirit, lady."



He enjoyed the way their Master-slave relationship had evolved so that she felt confident and comfortable giving her Master a piece of her fiery temper and foul tongue. It was almost always at the service of increasing her discipline, evidenced by her recent outburst.



He walked away from her to the tall armoire where he stored most of his equipment and toolery. He surveyed the inventory of implements at his disposal as he heard Jacinta wail and scrape her heels on the wooden floor, struggling once again against the onslaught of the itchy suit's special qualities. He decided upon a long, flat wooden paddle which he hefted with his right arm to get the familiar motion practiced. When he turned back to her, Jacinta was giving him a wide-eyed look of horror as he quivered the long paddle in his hand.



"You're going to beat me, now?" She asked tauntingly while squirming in itchy bondage.



"You're making so much noise, I thought we should hear you really howl instead of just bitching." He said matter-of-factly.



"I hate you and this horrible thing you put me in and you can beat my ass all night until I pass out because I can see that is the only way I will get relief. So bring it on, Master, if you think you can break me." She spit the words out with the slight Cuban accent she reverted to in times of her worst distress.



"Just shut up and bend over a little to make your ass a target." He ordered sternly.



"Fuck you." She said but bent over at the waist so her bound hands were away from her buttocks.



Ray took a position to one side of her ass and admired the pure beauty of her soft, round haunches as he loosened his swing arm with the paddle. He noticed her flinch as his practice swings made the gradually increasing whooshing sound through the air behind her. With a sudden powerful crack he smacked the paddle square in the middle of her soft ass.



Jacinta didn't scream. She yodeled a sound that reverberated through Ray's large house, rattling the window nearest them in the old study. "Motherfucker!" She hissed.



Without acknowledgement of her vulgarity, he hit her again, and again, and again, always scoring on Jacinta's meaty asscheeks. She was quieter now, a snuffle of noise came from her. He hit her again in a fresh area of her buttocks and she cried out. He kept at it, paddling her ass with wicked power until she hopped away from him, sobbing now.



"My ass, please Sir." She implored.



Still not employing the safe word, he noticed. "More, you mean?" He asked.



She took a moment, breathing heavily, rolling her hips looking for cool air on her beaten asscheeks. "Yes, more." She whispered, re-bending to present her ass to him.



So he hit her some more with the big flat paddle, trying different areas of her large target of ass. She squelped when he hit a new unhurt area, and screamed when he hit a previously tenderized area of her ass.



"You're a motherfucker." She groaned after a particularly strong direct hit on her vulnerable bottom.



"You're a bitch." He said simply in reply as he hit her again right where he knew it would hurt the most.



Jacinta buckled at the knees and wobbled on her high heels. She tried to square herself but the weight of her bound body worked against her and she tottered briefly on tippytoe then fell sideways to the floor in a soft crash of heavy flesh. "Fuck." She said in a dispirited tone.



"I may just leave you there as you lay." Ray said, taking a few steps away from her.



"Master, sir, I need to get out of this fucking itchy longjohn." She said between clenched teeth.



Ray again noticed that his slavegirl did not use her safe word. "You'll be okay, pet." He said as he replaced the paddle to its spot in his special armoire. He looked back at her squirming on the floor, straining against not only her rope bonds but the itchy suit that tingled her body with discomfort. He stood several feet away from her as she writhed on the floor, struggling mightily against the bonds that held her in the abominable longjohn.



And then a torrent of Cuban-inflected curses, whimpers and cries came from her as she struggled. Is that a tear in her right eye, he wondered, as he watched her writhe against the bonds and the skintight itchy material? Yes, there were tears now welling in both her dark eyes as she fought the bondage and discomfort of Cashmon's devilish piece of military arcana.



Ray watched Jacinta roll and jostle and battle to no avail against the expert bonds and she raised her eyes to his, knowing that she knew that he was enjoying her discomfort. "Anything, Master, anything, I would do for you to get out of this fucking longjohn." She said softly as she continued to squirm.



Ray could see dark patches of perspiration in the armpits and above the small of the back of Jacinta's itchy suit. And there was a telltale sign of moist darkness in the place under the crotch ropes he had run between her legs. Ray was aware that slave Jacinta was always juicy and slick when sexually excited. Seeing her this way so early in a session excited him. Sometimes it would take hours for Jacinta to respond with the unmistakable cues that she was physically excited during their sessions. The itchy suit had reduced that to mere minutes.

