MAGGIE’S JACKET

  The impish brunette snorted and giggled as she ran down the corridors of the hospital though her mirth WAS subsiding. Keith had seemed okay, a bit of a drinker but alright. How was she to know? 
  She jogged-on in her gas-fuelled glee but her boots were really too high for running in and the, what did he call it-“Crotch-strap?” She snorted, was causing her a little... discomfort?
    “I can hear you!” The orderly cackled.
  
  It had started-out as another dull night at the pub. Her friends had left while Maggie Newman had been in the midst of ordering herself a meal. Her job at the shoe shop was hardly fulfilling or rewarding and she’d just about decided on the lasagne when Keith had rolled up, already merry but at least amusing. The conversation had been funny and they’d exchanged personal details and anecdotes though he’d been cagey about his job, at first, anyway...
  As the drink flowed (and was consumed!) he revealed he worked at ‘The Manor’. Maggie had always been fascinated by the old structure above the village-it was some kind of hospital.
    “Come on,” he slurred as he rose from his seat, “... I’ll give you the full tour!”
-And so it was that he’d driven up here with Maggie under a blanket between the front and rear seats of his Vauxhall, “Come-on,” he pleaded, pouting like a little boy after smuggling her into one of the store-rooms, “...just for a little bit. Put it on, you’d look great in it!”
  His eyes looked so comically sad and her friends’ condescending expressions came back to her-poor, boring little Maggie. Works in a shoe shop and never does anything interesting! They never said as much but it was the elephant in the room, it hung in the air. A flying elephant;

    “DUMBO!” The girl cackled unadvisedly, trying to pump what she could of her arms in the tight canvas.
    “Aha! You’ve gone down there!” Her pursuer giggled, evidently changing his direction with a noisy, Chaplinesque skid way back.

    “Alright,” she’d decided, “...just turn your back though-no peeking!”
  The young woman began to disrobe and squeeze herself into the starched, white nurse’s uniform. She tried not to emit a grunt but it had to have been the smallest one he could find. Maggie was hardly an Amazon but it was like feeding oneself into a sausage skin!
  Finally, she popped one of the little white hats on her head and declared;
    “Okay, you can turn around now...”
  His features were a joy to behold;
    “Oh wow Mags, you’re a knockout!” He grinned like the cat that got the cream, “Come on, I’ll give you the guided tour!” He bent-down to scoop-up her jeans and sweater, “We’d better hide these till later.” Reaching-up, he moved a box to one side on the high shelf near the window. Maggie wasn’t used to this sort of intrigue; it was similar to the sort of thing that happened in Nancy Drew or the other girls’ adventure stories from her comics as a kid;
    “Surely we can’t though?” She tugged-down at the too-tight uniform and glanced at her boots, “I mean, this thing’s too tight, I can barely keep it fastened! What about shoes?” She pleaded. This was all getting a bit much for her now. Perhaps she WAS just a ‘timid little mouse’?
    “Oh come-on Mags, don’t be so wet!” He snapped. It came-out sounding harsher than he’d intended but before she could utter a retort, a blast nearly blew the cap off her head as a loud voice bawled;
    “Chesterton! What are you doing in this storeroom with one of my nurses?”
  Maggie Newman’s eyes bulged at her acquaintance and his look of fear at the unseen presence behind her.
    “You girl, what are you doing in her with this reprobate? Why are you out of your dormitory? If you are on duty then go to it! Look at me when I’m talking to you!” The little brunette dutifully turned to face the formidable, hatchet-faced woman behind her.
    “I don’t know you. Who are you,” queried the tall, greying matron, “...one of the new girls?” Then, “What was that, Chesterton? What did you just push out of the window?”
     “Nothing Matron, nothing...” Maggie blanched-her clothes!
    “You’re drunk! You’ve been drinking again Chesterton! This is the final straw,” the formidable woman yelled, “...you’re definitely out of a job now!”
    “No wait,” he pleaded, pointing desperately at his date who cast him a fearful look, “...look, I’ve caught her-the escapee-the dangerous one!” Maggie’s jaw dropped and she spun to him;
    “What are you doing, Keith?” Suddenly the big woman’s arms were wrapped tightly around her, “OOW, get off!”
  Keith Chesterton grabbed a gas canister off the wall, applying the mask to her face to muffle any incriminating shouting;
    “Sorry about this, love!” He hissed, quietly.
  Maggie began to feel light-headed and to her horror, a chuckle escaped her lips!
    “No time for your regrets now,” Matron Smythe cajoled, “...just help me get her out of this disguise and into a straitjacket!”
  The girl felt the Matron’s hands rip her uniform open and tug it down, pinning her arms to her sides. With one brawny arm encircling the helpless girl, Matron Jacqueline Smythe took-over the face-mask, keeping it held to the innocent girl’s face, muffling her protests as Keith dived to the floor to grab a canvas bundle off the lowest shelf. Despite herself she could only giggle helplessly as she was stripped to her bra and knickers by the big woman, unable to even attempt to protest her innocence! She attempted to kick-out at her erstwhile suitor but her booted legs were useless, trapped in the tight loop of her pooled dress! This, she found hilarious and cackled like the mad creature they suspected her to be! Giggling crazily, she felt incredibly light-headed and breathless like the altitude-sickness she’d heard of in the accounts of adventurers that she’d read. Well she-little Maggie Newman was having a bit of an adventure herself now, wasn’t she?
  The girl began to guffaw, her sides aching in the merciless embrace of Matron Smythe as her heels left the ground and her former beau began to retrieve each arm from the pilfered uniform, forcing them into the jacket’s coarse embrace! 
  Maggie managed to suck-in a lungful of air and howled with laughter at her plight as the restraints were fastened around her with crushing force by the big woman, the rattle of buckles from behind her hinting at her inescapably-bound future. She flapped her arms, giggling and squawked like a chicken as Keith gripped the belted and buckled ends. He fed them through the chest-loop of the straitjacket and the side loops for the heavy-set Matron to tug together behind the slight brunette’s back, shaking her like a rag doll!
    “WHEEE! This had better be really secure,” she howled as buckles snicked and clicked behind her, “... or shoe-shop girl is going to kill you all!”
  The big Matron hoisted her up, out of the remains of the nurse’s uniform. Arms pinned to her sides and giggling, she was almost tossed her at her former suitor;
    “Good work Chesterton, maybe you get to keep your job for another week.” She muttered, leaving to get more help with this dangerous patient.
    “Why, hehehehe...” she giggled, “Why have you done this to me?” 
    “I know,” he sniggered, taking a whiff of the gas, “...it’s sick, isn’t it? I suppose I just need the job that’s all!” The two were a cackling mess, Maggie laughing as if it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. She struggled to move her arms and tossed Keith a glance;
    “My nose itches...” The two of them howled at this and she slumped to her knees while he rolled on his back, guffawing. He struggled to his feet and dabbed at her nose with his finger, “No, no-on the side.” She indicated with her eyes, almost going cross-eyed at one point-this started him giggling again but he drew-back quickly as her teeth snapped at him.
     “Ooh, now that’s naughty!” He gasped, “You deserve a smack on the bum for that, my girl...” He ran his tongue across his lips as he pored over her tightly-packaged form. “Wow,” he groaned, “...you look even sexier like this!” Keith Chesterton ran his hands over the snug canvas straitjacket and, keeping her at arms’ length out of biting range, lifted the new patient to her feet. The orderly moved around her, admiring the way the restraints clung to her curves, the tightness of the canvas accentuating them. 
  Maggie leaned toward him and fluttered her eyelashes, smiling sweetly;
    “I bet you say that to all your captives...” She didn’t notice the shadow pass over his face. There was just something about caged innocence he decided, the boots were a nice touch, too...
  Maggie’s hair hung down to her eyes as she looked at herself and tried moving her arms again but the jacket’s embrace was unforgiving! Her head seemed to be clearing and she frowned, twisting and tugging at the jacket, trying to hike it up-over her waist;
    “Keith, Keith-now while she’s gone, get me out of this! Come on-hurry!” He once again circuited her and instead of a reply she felt a hot hand on her bottom, caressing her cheek, “Keith! What the bloody hell are you doing? I’ve got to get out of here now!” The only reply forthcoming was an even tighter grip on her backside followed by a painful slap! “Oow! You arsehole,” She squealed, “...get me out of this thing!”
  The sound of a powerful diesel engine snorted and grunted from outside together with a hiss of air brakes;
    “What’s that?” Her companion didn’t answer her query but moved in front of her. “What is it, Keith?”
    “Just the bins-that’s all.”
  Maggie frowned as the whistling turbo of the dreadnought drew closer, a clanking noise from outside the window and rhythmic amber flashing on the wall outside;
    “Keith! My clothes! Are my clothes out there? You’ve got to get them for me!”
  He stooped and unhurriedly began to tug the straitjacket back down to its irresistible former, snug shape.
    “What the hell are you doing, Keith? My clothes! We’ve got to go!” 
  Reaching between her legs, he tugged on something, pulling the jacket down firmly. She whimpered as she felt the leather strap pulled between her legs and across the thin, white cotton of her underpants;
    “Keith...” She moaned at the top of his head below her as he gripped the crotch strap and tugged-it tighter, fastening it through the buckle on her midriff. The pressure ‘there’ made her gasp, “Why?” She pleaded in consternation.
    “I’m not an arsehole...” He replied grimly, picking-up the canister of gas and placing its strap over her head-fixing it to her, “Cheer up, why don’t you?”
  Despite herself, Maggie Newman began to giggle, even as she heard the truck’s engine rev and beacon flashing diminish-presumably taking her clothes with it...
  He ran a hand through his sandy hair and admired the helpless, giggling girl trying to shake the mask off her face, tottering around in her high boots, the muscles in her thighs flexing as she groaned, twisted, stamped and swung the canister. Once again he ran his tongue over his lips as she crouched with her back to him. It was almost a work of art-the criss-cross of the tan leather straps across her back with their shiny buckles! The way that errant crotch-strap disappeared between her buttocks, framing and supporting them...
  He rotated her towards him then, removed the mask and planted his lips on hers, the already-weak girl almost fainting with the power of her conflicting emotions; This was awful... horrendous... kinky... nice...
  She groaned as he held her, one arm tight around her waist, the other cradling her head;
   “Don’t worry Mags, I’ll get you out of here,” she brightened, “...someday...”
   “You... bastard!” She panted, “People will wonder where I am, they’ll come looking for me! They’ll come looking for you!” She began to giggle again.
  He frowned at that last bit;
   “Maybe, maybe not,” he hooked the canister of gas off her and took a deep draught of it, chuckling, “...now where are the diapers? You’ll have to be put in one if you’re going to be here a while.” Despite herself and the horror of it all she snorted with mirth but then recovered enough to draw her leg back and lash-out, her knee planting itself in her former beau’s groin! He collapsed with a yell, sinking to his knees and hugging the gas to his face even tighter-for the pain, she hoped!
  Unsteadily, Maggie Newman staggered-out into the corridor, her boots unfortunately loud on the polished tile of the floor. Behind her, she could hear Keith alternately groaning and giggling. She loosed one more cackle;
   “I can’t go into diapers again, I’m twenty four!”

                                                         THE END?