Anonymous in NYC

“The Maid” Mr. Williams had just purchased a shiny, black latex, French, maid’s uniform with an exposed crotch area. Locking, stiff white patent leather cuffs and matching neck collar were included in that purchase. He couldn’t wait to try everything on when he got home. The French cuffs and neck collar were self-closing and posed no problem. Unfortunately, he realized he would need someone’s help with lacing up the back of the uniform. Desperate, he texted one of the maids in his apartment building and asked if she could spare a few minutes of her time. Later, he would learn that his offer of money would play no part in her decision to be of assistance. ...

In the past, Mr. Williams always went to The Center for his usual 24 hour bondage session, opting for a safe and clean experience. Sometimes he was more adventurous and opted to stay a week or more. Today, totally out of character, he would deliberately throw safety to the wind, while getting blind-sided by a complete breakdown in hygiene. The twentyish woman hurried past him that May afternoon in Greenwich Village, stopping at the corner. She was attired in the sluttiest, tight-fitting, black vinyl jeans that he had ever seen. They appeared to be at least one size too small, high-lighting the outline of her bikini briefs. ...

Mr. Williams looked back at the early 1960’s when he was a teenager. There was a scarcity in movies and on television, where the heroine wore black leather or his favorite shiny black vinyl raincoat. His first recollection was Honor Blackman in “The Avengers”, before Diana Rigg took over the role. They were few and far between. Also, before the 1980’s when the first DVR recorder arrived, there was no retrieval for any of these scenes and the lovely ladies in them. It was a one-time only event that had to be stored in your memory. ...

While looking down at the squirming wannabee mumbling through the adult sized rubber pacifier strapped firmly in place, Mrs. Williams attempted to summarize how the current state of affairs had come to pass. “Before we started your little charade, you never fully explained to me why you insisted on Nanny strapping in your pacifier before our night-time chats? “Additionally,” she said, while reaching into the crib and patting the cage underneath the milky white 7 gauge plastic baby pants, “I never understood your insistence on 24/7 chastity, as well as your strict dress code for Nanny? I would have been more than happy to wear whatever rings your bell and would even have thrown in an occasional whipping,” his wife teased. ...

The well-organized thirty-five year old Mr. Williams placed the unstamped, sealed envelope addressed to The Center on the front hall table, hoping to find the courage to mail it when he returned. “Don’t have too much fun.” His wife teased as she kissed him on the cheek as he opened the front door and left for his complimentary session at The Center. Mrs. Williams had decided to take the day off from her assistant vice-president position at her ad agency in order to pay a surprise visit to see first-hand why her husband had made such a fuss about a free, one-time offer, so common in her field of advertising. ...

She promised to stop by randomly to make sure that everything was copasetic usually after he was tucked in for the night. She cherished these moments and relished wearing the provocative clothing that made him lust for her without the slightest opportunity to have her while he was occupied in his fantasy. Tonight she had selected a new shiny black vinyl raincoat as she removed his pacifier and stood provocatively with hands akimbo on her hips for their twice monthly chat. ...

Recently married Mr. Williams is thankful that his wife has accepted his semi-annual breaks from reality that started when he was single. Being somewhat vague on the particulars, she was determined to learn more about his silly little fantasy and decided to pay an unannounced visit to see first-hand. Later that afternoon she arrived at The Center and spoke briefly with a staff member before heading down the corridor to see for herself the big deal. There in all his glory was her wannabee, cuffed to the wooden slats of the adult sized crib with the mandatory pacifier in place. ...

The above innocuous swing seat arrived by USPS ground at noon. His wife was more than game for his kinky escapades, and was always surprised by his ingenuity. This time was no exception as he lifted it out of the shipping box and held it up for her to see, leaving her totally in the dark as to its application. That was about to change as he led her into the front hall coat closet and slid her leather trench coats to one side while pushing the above frosted vinyl garment bag to the other. ...

He had submitted many stories to Gromet’s Plaza under Anonymous in NYC. After he finished his latest one titled “Mr. Williams Impersonates Harry Houdini” he felt a little disingenuous in that he had not actually experienced one iota of the turmoil that he had heaped upon his protagonists, and most certainly not one of his surprise endings. Hoping to actually experience first-hand that which he had so easily dealt out, he began his own self-imposed ninety day stay at Nanny’s Adult Baby Care Facility. The very same one that he used so many times as a setting for his stories. ...

Shortly after finishing his 8 o’clock breakfast, Mr. Williams tugged on the straps securing him to the inside of the large black baby buggy as he contemplated a way to end his stay at Nanny’s Adult Baby Care. A stay that has been extended through his wife’s chicanery from an initially agreed upon three months to one now lasting nine. He peeked through the darkly tinted vinyl rain cover and wondered when his day-time Nanny would return for him. ...

“I’d like to try another Houdini escape while taking a stroll in Central Park but this time restrained under normal street clothes.” Mrs. Williams rolled her eyes and waited for the umpteenth installment of Escape 101, secretly wishing someday to abandon Harry Houdini to his own devises. A ½ hour later his wife sat stunned as her husband returned total enclosed in a shiny black latex body suit from neck to foot with a small bon4 black transparent silicone penis cage peeking through the opening in his crotch. ...

“Has he left you for another woman?” her best friend asked. “Not hardly.” “Well, where in the hell is he? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in three months.” “He’s off scratching an itch!” his wife responded. “That must be some itch to need scratching for three months?” BFF incredulously remarked. “It was something he has been wanting to scratch ever since we first met and now he has the chance.” ...

Slightly enlarged, it was none the less your typical black baby buggy, right down to the customary vinyl rain cover, although this cover was deeply tinted to conceal its adult occupant. Also quite normal at first glance, but under closer scrutiny one could spot the black patent leather straps securing the occupant’s ankles to the stroller’s sides, probably ascertaining similar restraints underneath the darkened canopy. His wife of ten years set the foot brake, straightened her black leather trench coat, and sat down on the wooden park bench hoping to get a brief respite before continuing with his daily three hour charade. ...

Although I had initiated the following conversation at breakfast, I was soon to learn throughout the course of the day that I was not to be its sole beneficiary. “I know we’ve tried it many times over the past ten years, but I’d at least like to make it for an entire day, then possible stretch it to thirty, and maybe even a year or more. Who knows? The sky’s the limit!” ...