Author: Ki Finn
Title: Crawling Distraction and Everything After Pairing: It's a surprise, but you'll figure it out Rating: NC-17 Not really this part but subsequent. They're already written. Trust me. Spoilers: Not hardly.
Archive: Sure but email me first to let me know where I am. artsiesub@hotmail.com Feedback: Sure I like itdirected to me artsiesub@hotmail.com Disclaimer: ER and its characters are the property Constant C Productions, Amblin Entertainment, and Warner Brothers Television et al. This story is not for profit. It is for entertainment purposes only. And heavens let it entertain someone. Notes: If BDSM offends or outrages you stop reading now. I mean it. Delete this message. However, the whole story follows the credo of "safe, sane, and consentual."

She could feel the sweat gathering under her collar. Her body temperature was rising as events progressed. She jerked the restraints holding her wrists and sighed, content to be so surely tied. There was a sound of movement behind her and she felt the tendrils of the flogger strike across her shoulders.

"No need to tug on those, you know." And the flogger struck again, across her ass.

"I'm sorry."

She heard something something fall to the floor, then felt hands on her shoulders; they rested there for a moment and she felt the press of another body into her back. The hands slid from her shoulders to her breasts. Strong fingers found her nipples and pinched them hard.

"You will be."

It was a clich. A basement bar, appropriately dark, music loud, but not so loud that it ruled out conversation, and a crowd of people in various forms of leather and latex and less. No, not people. Women. Only women. She had never been there before, but she hadn't looked that hard to find it either.

She crossed the floor to the bar, trying not to look too obvious in a dress-down version of fetish wear. Only a leather halter top that barely covered her breasts, with a battered pair of button fly jeans, and an old pair Doc's, her wardrobe's last holdout from med school. She yelled her order into the ear of the bartender and was rewarded with a drink. Though not her usual brand, it was cold to the point of frost' she gripped the bottle tightly and fought the tension in her neck as she took a drink. The beer burned in her throat but even the smell of something as familiar as beer calmed her. She turned and leaned her back against the bar, trying not to adjust the shirt again even though she found it difficult to believe that she had chosen to wear a shirt whose neckline plunged to her navel in public.

The other patrons did little more than look in her direction before returning their attention to their drinks and friends. How so many managed to be holding conversations with the music and the activities in the bar amazed her. The woman in her fifties chatting away as she stroked the breasts of a girl who looked little more than a teenager who knelt beside her chair. In a corner, one woman held another's arms behind her back as she kissed her neck and crawling toward the bar, heavy leather restraints on her wrists, a collar, and nothing else, was another woman. She whistled as she came to bar and the bartender, nonplussed, took a piece of paper from under her collar. She then returned with a tray of drinks and somehow managed to balance them on the woman's back, who then crawled away.

Thoroughly engrossed in what she was watching, she didn't notice the woman encased in black vinyl stand walk up and stand beside her. She only felt the tightening of muscles in her stomach and the need to swallow to keep from drooling openly. The crawling distraction allowed her to be shocked when the woman beside her spoke and moreover, spoke directly to her, and already knew her name.

"I never expected to meet you here, Susan."

Susan jumped; the music had reached a crescendo so no one heard her hasp, not even herself. Someone spoke to her, shattering the spectacle of ass and cunt slowly crawling away from her, and someone knew her name. She turned to face her would-be conversationalist. At first, the face made no sense; it could not be attached to a body standing next to her in shiny black vinyl, one zipper up the middle of her chest and one on each of her legs until covered by boots. The outfit revealed far more of the figure than anyone at the hospital had ever seen.

"Aren't you going to say hello?"

"Hi Abby."

Abby smirked and Susan fought her shock to find something more to say. "Nice outfit."

Abby laughed outright and gave Susan an appraising look. "Thanks, you too."