Don’t sweat it. When the suit’s wet, just wrap a towel around yourself.”With a huff, I sat on the bed to take off my shoes, and Dad stepped out ...he door.Once I had the swim briefs on, I examined myself in the mirror. Even dry, the suit was a little see-through. I could see the shape of my dick and balls; the fabric had grown really thin. I couldn’t believe how long it took me to notice at the pool. The suit was tri-colored; at least the front and back panels were black; thin black. The side. Lifting the hood should have simply triggered a small spark in a relatively small receptacle -- it worked fine when it had been tested, perhaps the testing is what fouled the valve. The trigger did indeed successfully generate a spark but the spark ignited far more than intended.The hood blew open, a ball of flame shot out from under the edges and below the car, and a roar filled the car park stunning even those who had been expecting a report.Ginger was saved by a small series of events. The. "Nope," a male voice said. "Lights don't work." Look," a female voice answered. "No light bulbs." That's why we brought the field lighting kit," Commandant Mackie said. "Just a few minutes while the other cadets set it up."Cadet Thistle, so good of you to join us," Mr. Giovanni said from the front of the church. Or back—or whatever. There wasn't a stick of furniture in the place. Several of the boarded windows were broken. The floor was covered in dirt and leaves. "Come here, please."I padded. ? In fact, this story isn't even an accurate depiction of the nominal "master/slave" relationships that exist within the BDSM subculture.? It is pure fiction; no more and no less.I am forced to write this story under a pseudonym because, for some reason I simply cannot fathom, large, politically powerful segments of society seem to strongly disapprove of both the writing and the reading of this type of erotic literature.? Part of this stems from a belief that depicting sexual abuse in fiction.