Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
Call Girl
by Ty Dupp
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© Copyright 2013 - Ty Dupp - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-F; F/f; M/f; latex; catsuit; chair; bond; toys; insert; phone; voy; tease; torment; climax; cons/nc; X
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Call Girl Ty Dupp Solo-F; F/f; M/f; latex; catsuit; chair; bond; toys; insert; phone; voy; tease; torment; climax; cons/nc; X
 

Anne pressed the buzzer next to the company's name. A woman's voice responded.

"Yes?"

"Hello," Anne replied. "I'm here for the interview." The door buzzed. Anne entered, climbed the stairs to an office door marked 'Teledream Solutions' and walked in. She was greeted by what could only be described as a grandmother in a business suit – personable yet professional.

"Welcome." The woman smiled and warmly shook Anne's hand. "I'm Ms. Johnson. Please sit down." She motioned to a chair. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Anne found herself liking the woman immensely. Something about her was completely disarming, and Anne hoped more than ever that she would get the job. Ms. Johnson would make a great boss. Even as the questions grew more personal – Did she have a boyfriend? Was she a virgin? How often did she like to have sex? – Ann didn't feel the slightest hint of impropriety.

'Call center seeks bright, enthusiastic young women. Wages are five hundred dollars per shift,' the ad read. Anne, struggling to earn enough to pay her college tuition, jumped at the chance. Despite the cryptic nature of the ad, calling for 'single women willing to work in an unusual position,' Anne found herself seduced by the large salary.

Eventually, Ms. Johnson got to the point. "I'm sure you're wondering about the job. We answer to a highly selective clientele. They want to talk to young women, and there are no topics off-limits".

So there is a catch, Anne thought. What the heck. It's not as if I have to deal with the clients personally. Besides, I'm certainly no prude. "What exactly would I have to do?" she asked.

"Perhaps that's more easily explained by showing you," Ms. Johnson replied. "Follow me." She led Anne to a large closet. "Let me show you your uniform." She opened the closet door and retrieved what appeared to be black overalls.

"It's rubber," Anne exclaimed, stunned.

"Like I said, we cater to a particular clientele. They like to talk to pretty young girls wearing latex."

"But why actually wear rubber? They can't see over the phone."

"Have you ever worn latex before?" Ms. Johnson asked. "How can you describe the sensation if you've never experienced it?" Anne began to wonder what she had gotten herself into. "Let's try one on," Ms. Johnson suggested. "First, we need your size. Please undress. Place your clothes on that chair."

"Now wait a minute – "

"The salary for this position is, by comparison, quite large," Ms. Johnson gently cut her off. "Surely you can't expect to receive such a wage without some sacrifices. Now please disrobe." Anne felt torn, conflicted between the money and her modesty. Finally, she complied. Ms. Johnson pulled out a tape measure and made some measurements. Anne stood naked, shivering. Ms. Johnson reached into the closet again. "Here we are," she said.

Ms. Johnson helped Anne struggle into her 'uniform'. "It's so tight," Anne grumbled.

"You'll get used to it, dear, eventually," Ms. Johnson said. "Now come with me." Anne fell in behind her, walking down a long hall.

As they walked along, Anne's rubber-clad feet squeaked on the marble floor. Such an odd sensation, Anne thought, the latex growing warmer, squeezing into her, resisting her every movement. Anne caught a glimpse of herself as they passed a mirror. The suit was doing some wonderful things to her figure. Anne surprised herself when she realized she approved of the glossy body reflected in the mirror.

At last, the pair made their way to a small, darkened room. Inside was a chair that resembled a modified dentist's chair. The most notable modification was separate rests for each leg. A panel with a number of knobs and switches stood behind the head of the chair. "Have a seat," Ms. Johnson said.

With trepidation, Anne did what she was told. From beneath the chair, Ms. Johnson pulled a set of black nylon straps attached to the underside. One by one, she fastened these around Anne's body. Arms, legs, knees, elbows, shoulders, waist – everything was strapped down until Anne couldn't move. Anne squirmed helplessly, fear rising in her. "These straps are for your own safety." Ms. Johnson said.

She pressed a button on the panel. Slowly, the headrest folded itself into a U shape, cradling Anne's head, holding it in place. Ms Johnson adjusted a small microphone, swinging it in front of Anne's mouth. Ms. Johnson pressed another button. The chair hummed as electric motors in the chair spread Anne's legs wider. A shiny black column rose from the floor between her legs. Ms. Johnson reached between Anne's legs, opening a hidden zipper at the crotch. The column moved forward until it touched Anne's exposed flesh. A shiver ran through her at the touch of the cold metal. Slowly, a blunt, cylindrical probe extended from the column, penetrating Anne's womanhood. Anne's fear gave way to panic. She squirmed, but her bonds held fast.

"Here's how this works." Anne heard Ms. Johnson's soothing voice in the earphones embedded in the headrest. "You will spend one shift in this position. A shift consists of four hours. During those four hours, you will answer the phone. You need not do anything but talk; the system automatically routes calls to your station. You will begin each call by reading the script posted on the wall in front of you. After that, simply respond to the caller's wishes. This is a trial period. After your shift, your performance will be evaluated. If your performance is satisfactory, you will be offered more shifts. Do you have any questions?" Anne began to protest, but Ms. Johnson cut her off.

"Splendid. I'll see you in four hours." She walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Again, Anne tested her bonds, twisting in her chair to no avail. She heard a telephone ring in her headset. A click followed; the ringing stopped. The cylinder between her legs began vibrating gently. Anne jumped. She forced herself to focus and began reading. "H-hello. I'm Desiree. How can I be of service to my master?"

The customer followed with a battery of questions. What did she look like? Did he make her horny? Did she like being tied up? The list went on and on. As the man spoke, the vibrations between her legs grew more and more intense. Despite her misgiving about the whole affair, she found herself becoming more and more aroused. She could hear the caller panting, heavier and louder. Ultimately, she heard a series of grunts, followed by the line going dead. The vibrations stopped. "NO," Anne shouted. She squirmed against her bonds, attempting to press herself against the vibrator, but the straps held firm.

A few seconds later, the phone rang again. Again the vibrator began pulsing; again Anne read her script. The caller asked pretty much the same questions, and again the conversation ended with a few grunts. This time, however, the caller didn't hang up. The vibrations grew more and more intense until Anne couldn't help herself. She came hard and screamed. The vibrations continued, unrelenting. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her until she couldn't stand it any more. Still, the vibrations persisted. The caller didn't hang up. Finally, Anne fainted.

She was awakened by a ringing in her ears and vibrations between her legs. This time she didn't follow her script. Her mind was still hazy from her previous ordeal, and the buzzing between her legs was unpleasant and unwelcome. Instead of introducing herself, she found herself begging for help. "Please mister, you have to help me. They've strapped me to this machine and it's torturing me. I can't get loose."

"Really? What are you wearing?" the caller asked, his voice trembling. "How are you restrained? Can you move?" The caller was enjoying Anne's predicament. The vibrations increased their intensity until Anne gave up. She was stuck, and the caller would be of no help. She began to play along, eager for the caller to hang up, eager for her shift to end and with it, her torment.

Following that call came another call, then another, and another. Anne lost track of time; her mind became a blur. Her catsuit became hot and sticky, and the vibrator wouldn't let up. She would have cried, were it not for the constant stream of orgasms. Instead of following the script, her responses to the callers became incoherent; random mumblings sometimes answering callers' questions, sometimes pleading for help. Anne was exhausted, and, still, the vibrator wouldn't let up.

After what seemed an eternity, the headphones silenced, and the vibrator went dead and withdrew. Ms. Johnson entered the room. "My dear, you were fabulous. Already we've gotten feedback and it's all positive. I'm very impressed with your work. I'm happy to offer you a permanent position with the company, starting now. Congratulations my dear. For your superior service, you get to stay for another shift."

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13.12.13

story continued in part two

o0o

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