© Copyright 2008 - Grimbard - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; latex; catsuit; bond; costumes; display; party; toys; cons; X
This is my first attempt at writing fetish fiction therefore, I’d welcome all comments you may have. I can be reached at Grimbard@ymail.com
Saturday, November 1st, 2008 – 5:00 am.
52 hours to go – I’m not sure that I’m going to make it… Actually, who am I trying to fool? I have no choice but to make it – I got myself into this, and I’m the one who is going to have to get myself out of it.
I guess if I’m going to write this story down, I should start the story from the beginning – the party 3 weeks ago. God, that seems like such a long time ago! Anyway, it was for my friend Caroline’s 30th birthday, and for a surprise, her boyfriend Mark had managed to find and invite almost the entire group of friends that we used to chum around with at university. It was an excellent party, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I probably had a bit too much to drink. It’s not a stretch to think that that started me down a path leading to my current predicament – my judgment certainly wasn’t the best that night.
Anyway, towards the end of the party, I found myself talking to Maxine, a woman who had been a former roommate of Caroline’s. Maxine had studied costume design at university, and had been working in the film industry ever since graduating. We spoke for at least half an hour, catching up on what each other had been doing for the past few years, when I blurted out the question that started everything – “Say, do you make Halloween costumes for people? I’m still looking for something for this year, and I really want to make a statement!”
The truth is, I’ve always loved Halloween – I love getting dressed up, and I find that putting on a costume gives me the opportunity to act out a different persona. In real life, I’m a fairly conservative person – I work in the financial services field, so it’s all business suits and sensible shoes. But at Halloween, I like to stand out from the crowd – I’ve been everything from a sexy witch to a police officer (complete with fake handcuffs!). One year, I even went out as a playboy bunny! I revel in the attention that I get – the way I see it, it’s one night a year, so I might as well go all out. Of course, I always make sure to go to parties where no one from work is likely to go – fun is fun, but I don’t want to be the subject of water-cooler discussion on Monday morning!
Anyway, after my ill-advised question to Maxine (what was I thinking?), she took a step back, and gave me a long look up and down. Finally, she said “It’s not my usual thing, but I have been thinking of trying out something new. Tell me, what kind of costume were you thinking of?”
“Nothing specific”, I replied quickly, “I just want something that will turn heads. Nothing that shows too much skin, though.”
Maxine paused for a moment. “Well, I do have a pretty good idea for a costume. You wouldn’t be showing any skin, but I have to tell you that it would be a pretty extreme costume -- I don’t think it’s what you would want to be wearing to the office party. However, I can guarantee that you would get tons of attention in it.”
After assuring her that I had no intention of going to the office party, but would most likely be attending a large party downtown, I pressed her for more details on the costume. She quickly waved off my questions, though, giving me her business card. “Come to my office tomorrow morning, and we can discuss things more. We’ll have to work out the details, but I think this could be fun – for both of us!”
The birthday party wound down soon after, and as I made my way home, I wondered what type of costume she had planned. Why wouldn’t she tell me?
The next morning I made my way to the address on the business card. It was in a trendy industrial part of town – deserted for the day given that it was Sunday. Maxine must be doing alright with her costume business if she can afford the rent here, I thought to myself.
I arrived at the shop, and pressed the buzzer. Maxine came to door and welcomed me with a quick hug. “I’m so glad you made it – I’m looking forward to showing you my designs.”
I took a look around as she led me to the back of the shop to her office. All sorts of costumes were on display – from soldiers uniforms to Victorian gowns complete with corsets. Maxine definitely had talent – all of the costumes appeared to be beautifully-made. Some of them I recognized from movies that had been released in the past few years.
We sat down at a table as she pulled out a sheaf of drawings from her briefcase. “This is the costume idea that I’ve been working on for the past few months” she said. “You said that you were looking for a head-turning costume – I think this might be it.”
I was stunned as I looked at the drawings, which were almost of photographic quality. They were of a woman in an impossibly tight black catsuit, complete with gloves and a corset that pushed her breasts up and out. The woman’s head was encased in a hood, with large holes for the eyes and mouth and two fake ears. Finally, she was wearing a pair of knee-high boots with 5-inch heels. The entire outfit appeared to have been made out of latex, or some similar material.
The drawings clearly showed that the woman was not in control of her situation – the catsuit had no visible seams, the corset had several locks running down the front of it, and around the woman’s neck was a wide metal collar that would prevent her or anyone else from tampering with the hood. Even the boots had tiny locks that would prevent the wearer from removing them until they could be unlocked. Finally, the woman’s wrists were chained together behind her back with a pair of silver manacles. Definitely, this was not a woman who was going to escape from her situation without some assistance.
“I call the costume ‘Catwoman controlled’”, Maxine explained. “I’ve been thinking of getting into the fetish market, and I’d like to display this costume at this year’s Halloween Fetish Ball. And, if you’re interested, I’d like you to be the one modeling it for me.”
I laughed nervously, “Well, the costume certainly is extreme – but I have to say I’m interested. Tell me more about it - how do you even get into the costume? There doesn’t appear to be any zippers.”
Maxine explained that the catsuit was actually made out of two pieces that were attached together at the waist by a small zipper. The hood and boots were not separate pieces, as it first appeared, but were attached to the top and bottom parts of the costume respectively. Once the catsuit was zipped on the wearer and the corset locked on over top, no seams would be visible, and of course the wearer would be unable to remove any part of the costume until the corset was unlocked and removed.
More seriously, Maxine noted that the costume would be made from a newly-designed industrial-strength latex. “Until a couple months ago, nobody even knew that this stuff existed, though it has been used by the military for years. It’s much stronger than regular latex – it can be cut, but only with some very heavy-duty shears. However, once cut, the exposed seams release a very corrosive resin that causes serious burns when put in contact with skin. So, once the suit is locked on someone, it’s pretty much there to stay until it can be unlocked. It would not be a good idea to try to cut it off.”
“But on a more fun note, there is another surprise with this suit!” Maxine further explained. “In keeping with the ‘controlled’ theme, the bottom part of the costume has two vibrating plugs that are designed to keep the wearer entertained for as long as the outfit is on. They turn on and off randomly, and run on kinetic energy – basically every time you move, the batteries get recharged, so there is no escaping them!”
I thought to myself – would I want to wear such a costume? It certainly was sexy, but did I want to give up control of my body, even if it was only for one evening? Interestingly, the inescapability of the costume appealed to me, but the thought of the vibrating plugs made me blush – what would it be like to wear such an outfit in public, where the plugs could send me over the edge at any time? And the manacles – was I prepared to be essentially tied-up in public for the evening? Yes, I thought -- I could definitely do without the manacles, and maybe without the plugs, too.
Basically reading my mind, Maxine continued, “I know what you’re thinking – you’re not happy about either the plugs or the cuffs. However, you have to realize that this is to help me break into the fetish market – I have to make a splash. Therefore, to make this work, you would have to wear the entire costume. However, rest assured that I would take very good care of you for the evening, and not let you get into too much trouble!”
So much for the idea of picking and choosing only the parts of the costume I like, I thought ruefully. I looked at the drawings again. The costume was amazing - so much better than anything that I could come up with myself. I thought of the alternatives – another witch costume, or some kind of Pirates of the Caribbean-type outfit. Boring! With this in mind, I blurted out the statement that got me into my current predicament, “Okay – I’m game. Where do I sign up – and how much is this going to cost me?”
“Well, in terms of the cost of the costume, you’re in luck – I’ll do it for free”, Maxine replied, before adding, “Of course, this assumes that you agree to certain conditions in writing.”
“You mean like a legal contract?” I asked. “Isn’t that a bit extreme for a Halloween costume?”
“This isn’t just any Halloween costume”, Maxine replied. “The cost of the materials alone is considerable – I don’t want you backing out at the last minute after all of the work has been done. Anyway, I don’t need you to sign anything in blood or anything – I just want something in writing to ensure that if I make the costume for you that you will actually wear it when we go to the Halloween Fetish Ball.”
“Sounds reasonable”, I replied as I quickly scanned the contract that she had placed before me. The contract itself was very straightforward – it described the costume in detail, and outlined my responsibilities, which were minimal. I would be locked into the costume at no later than 8:00 pm on Friday night, and after a quick photo session would attend the ball later that evening with Maxine. I would be allowed to remove the costume after the ball was finished. After that, the costume would be mine, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. The contract indicated that I would receive an unspecified ‘gift’ by agreeing to model the contract for the event. However, the contract also specified that I would be billed $15,000 if I did not fulfill my responsibilities – the cost of the materials for the costume and for Maxine’s time.
Before I changed my mind, I quickly signed the contract – no going back now. “Okay, so what now?” I asked Maxine.
“Now we measure you up”, Maxine replied, pulling out a tape measure. “Time to get undressed, please.”
I stripped down to my underwear. “Sorry, everything off”, ordered Maxine. “As you can imagine, the measurements for the costume have to be precise.”
With my underwear off, she began to take what seemed to be dozens of measurements. “This is not an outfit that I can modify after it has been made, so I have to get it right the first time”, she explained. As she continued to take my measurements, she offered, “You know, you are going to look absolutely fabulous in the costume – you have an amazing body.”
Startled by her frank assessment of my assets, I looked down at myself. I guess I did look pretty good, I thought – I had never really given much thought about it, being focused first on my studies at university, and then, for the past few years, on my career. I stood about 5’9” and had largish breasts and a firm body – the result of playing competitive volleyball in university, and a strict regime of yoga and Pilates for the past few years. I had short brown hair (which Maxine assured me would fit perfectly under the hood of the catsuit) and blue eyes. All in all I was happy with how I looked, but was curious to see how I would look in the costume. It was so much more extreme than anything I had ever worn before – could I pull it off?
“All done!” Maxine exclaimed as she stood up, putting away the measuring tape. “Now my work begins and you get to relax until Halloween.”
“So I’m not going to get a chance to try the outfit on a few days before the ball?” I asked.
“Sorry – this is going to take me until the last minute”, Maxine replied. “Besides, I think it will be fun for both of us to have you locked in the costume the first time you try it on – no trial runs!”
Walking me to the door of the shop, Maxine told me that she would be sending me some stuff to read on the Halloween Fetish Ball, so I could be prepared for the events of the evening. “This is going to be tons of fun – we are going to have a blast!” she exclaimed. I quickly walked to my car, lost in thought. What had I just got myself into?
Getting into the Costume
The day before the Halloween Ball, I received the package that Maxine had promised to send. It contained a few glossy promotional pieces, and a schedule of events. The highlight of the night was the dance, but there were also dungeon rooms available. Nothing too out of the ordinary for a fetish event, I thought. There were also some costume-related instructions for me to complete before arriving at Maxine’s shop before the party. Basically, I was to have done a complete shave of my body (thank God not my head too, I thought). I was also instructed to strictly limit my food and liquid consumption in the 12 hours before the party – there would be no possibility of a bathroom break once the costume was on, the instructions explained, so it was in my best interests not to require one.
The package also contained a small locked box on which was printed “I’ll give you the key to this after the party – put this in a safe place as it’s very valuable. Maxine.” This must be the gift I’m to get for agreeing to model the costume, I thought. Looking around my flat, I decided that if it was so valuable I should probably put it in my safety deposit box in the bank I used close to my office downtown. There had been a few break-ins in my neighborhood – I had been lucky so far – but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance.
Finally, the big day arrived. I was getting both nervous and excited about what the evening would bring. I managed to get to the bank at lunch-time, locking the box away in my safety deposit box. One less thing I have to worry about, I thought. I frittered away the afternoon, totally unable to focus on my work. At last, the workday was finished, and I was able to escape to pursue the evening’s activities.
After stopping off at home to have a shower, I took a taxi to Maxine’s shop, arriving shortly after 6:30 pm. Opening the door with a big smile, Maxine invited me in, exclaiming “I just finished everything last night – all we need to do now is get you dressed. How do you feel – are you ready?”
I replied that I was having serious butterflies, but would probably be alright. “Once we get you suited up, you’ll be able to relax and enjoy the ride” Maxine offered. At least at that point, there won’t be any turning back, I thought to myself.
Leading me to the back of the shop, Maxine ordered me to take off my clothes and gave me a bottle of lubricant to rub over my body. “Inside and out” Maxine instructed with a wink. “Use lots – without it we’ll have no hope of getting you into the costume.”
We decided to start with the top half of the costume. In hindsight, I never would have been able to get it on myself, it was so tight. In particular, it was practically impossible to get my head though the small neck opening into the attached hood. Fortunately, we had used a lot of lubricant and after a few hard minutes of pulling, my head popped through the opening and Maxine was able to adjust the hood on my face. The rest of the top half of the costume was easier to get on – Maxine helped me work my arms into the attached sleeves and helped me pull the tight latex down to my waist. It fit perfectly – even the fingers in the attached gloves fit without any wrinkles. It’s awfully tight, though, I thought. I wondered how I was going to manage to get through the evening – and most of the costume wasn’t even on yet!
After smoothing out a few air pockets, Maxine suggested that we start on the lower part of the costume. “This should go a bit easier” she said. Indeed, even with the attached boots, the lower half of the costume looked like it would be easier to get on. That was until I looked inside and saw the pair of large plugs that were waiting for me. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “Couldn’t you have made them a bit smaller?”
“Industry standard” replied Maxine with a grin. “Besides, they’re there for your enjoyment – I wouldn’t want to limit your fun!”
“You’re too kind”, I offered as I began to struggle to get the pants on. The plugs themselves were attached to a kind of thong which had been glued to the inside of the pants. I gasped as I eased the plugs in one at a time – they were bigger than anything I had ever tried before. Once the thong had been pulled up, the plugs proved impossible to move – not even an inch. I leaned heavily against the table – I guess I’m going to be quite familiar with these little fiends by the end of the night, I thought to myself.
Maxine helped me pull up the rest of the pants, and again smoothed out any air pockets. The attached boots were amazing – I had never worn such high heels, and hoped that I wouldn’t be stumbling around all night. Quickly placing the locks on the boots (which were just for show, seeing as the boots were already attached to the lower part of the costume) and zipping the two parts of the costume together, Maxine pulled at the next item on the table. “Okay, time to get you into your corset” she exclaimed.
The corset itself appeared to be a marvel of engineering. While made of the same industrial-strength latex, it obviously had heavy boning embedded in it. It would go from under the breasts to just over the hips – it was more of a waist-cincher than a corset, really. Despite that, it looked formidable as Maxine pulled it out. Curiously, it had no visible laces, although it did have several locking devices which had been placed flush with the latex material, looking like large silver buttons.
“So how am I supposed to get that on?” I asked dubiously. Again, it didn’t look to have any laces to untie.
“Easy – we just pull it over your hips”, Maxine replied. She helped me step into the corset, and with the help of more lubricant, we were able to pull the garment over my hips and up to just under my breasts.
“This doesn’t feel too bad” I offered. “I thought it would be tighter that this.”
Maxine laughed, “It will be, silly – we haven’t even started to tighten it yet!” With that, she explained that the corset was tightened with the assistance of a ratcheting device that was placed over top of it. As the device was progressively tightened, with the use of buckles like those found on ski boots, the corset underneath would tighten as well, with internal ratchets embedded inside the corset preventing it from being loosened. Once the corset had been tightened by the desired amount the ratcheting device would be removed, with just the newly-tightened corset remaining. Once tightened this way, the only way to remove the corset would be to unlock all of the locks on the front of the corset, which would release the internal ratchets.
With her explanation complete, Maxine pulled out the tightening device from beside the table, and proceeded to use it to tighten the corset on me. I was instructed to hold on to a bar above my head while Maxine labored with the buckles of the device. I cannot explain how it felt to have the corset tightened in this way. Maxine paused several times to let my torso adjust, but even so I felt like I was floating on air, with my breath becoming increasingly labored. Finally, just as I thought I was going to faint, Maxine proclaimed that she was done, removing the tightening device, and allowing me to stand up straight.
“You’re doing great! Only the final touches to go”, she said pulling out a small leather bag. Reaching inside the bag, she pulled out two pieces of silver metal. As I looked at them more closely, it was quickly apparent that they fit together to form a wide collar with a small D-ring. Wasting no time, Maxine placed them around my neck, forming the collar that she proceeded to tighten to a point that was not uncomfortable, but not quite comfortable either. The width of the collar forced me to hold my head up high, while small locks embedded in the collar announced to the world that it could not be removed without the proper set of keys. I was becoming more and more aware that I would not be getting out of this costume without help. Again, the inescapability of my situation appealed to me, and I found myself getting aroused. I did wonder where Maxine was keeping the keys, though. While I did trust her to let me out at the end of the night, what if something happened to her – how would I be able to remove the outfit?
Finally, Maxine pulled out the shiny silver manacles that I had seen in the drawings 3 weeks ago – they definitely seemed to have a shorter chain between them than what I remembered from the drawing. “This is it!” she exclaimed. “Once these go on, there’s no turning back – you’re mine for the evening. Having any second thoughts?”
“Lots”, I replied, “But I’ll see this through – I can’t afford to back out at this point. Besides, I haven’t even seen what I look like in a mirror yet.”
“Good girl.” Maxine laughed as she pulled my wrists behind my back and locked them together. Suddenly unbalanced by the 5-inch heels of the boots and the fact that my hands were now chained behind my back, Maxine carefully helped steer me in front of the covered mirror in the corner of the room. Removing the sheet covering the mirror, she asked with a grin “Well, I’m certainly happy with what I see. What do you think – will it do?”
I was stunned by what I saw. I had been amazed by the drawings I’d seen a few weeks previously, and the figure in the mirror was all of that – and more. The costume was easily the most sexual outfit I had ever laid eyes on. The catsuit did not have one wrinkle, and the corset pulled in the figure’s waist and pushed up her breasts so they appeared to be twin mountains. Finally, the hood and the various locking devices on the outfit announced that the person in the mirror was an anonymous sex slave – she was at the mercy of the keyholder, who controlled both her identity and her fate.
Simply put, I could not believe it was me in the outfit. Not for the last time, I wondered what I had got myself into. I was increasingly aware of the tightness of the corset and of the plugs embedded in me – the outfit was definitely more than I had bargained for. Anyway, it’s only for a few hours, I thought (thank goodness I didn’t know then what I know now, or I would have had a panic attack!)
Maxine proceeded to guide me to the next room, which was set up for taking some promotional photos. “Eventually, these will be put on my internet site to help me market my costumes, but don’t worry, no one will know it’s you – your mask covers you up really well.” She quickly took a set of 20-30 photos and pronounced herself satisfied. Guiding me to a couch along the side of the room, Maxine instructed me to relax while she put her own costume on.
“You’re wearing a costume, too?” I asked. “Is it anything like mine?”
Maxine assured me that I would be the star of the show – her costume was quite a bit less involved and was merely to allow her to play a supporting role to me, her ‘main attraction’. With that, she skipped into another room, where presumably her costume was waiting.
After about 20 minutes, she emerged from the room. Twirling around for my benefit, she laughed “Well, what do you think.” I should have known what she would be wearing – a batgirl costume. That said, it was not just any batgirl costume – like my costume, hers also consisted of a latex catsuit, corset and boots, all carefully emblazoned with a bat logo. As well, she wore a small mask, protecting her identity.
Although her costume also oozed sexuality, it was of a totally different kind than mine. This was a costume for a dominant woman in control of her situation. While skintight like mine, her costume was far more functional (and comfortable looking, I thought ruefully). No locks adorned any part of her costume, her corset seemed more reasonable, and her boots were more sensible, with just 3-inch heels. She wore a utility belt around her waist, from which she proceeded to extract a thin metal cord.
“Ready to go?” she asked me, as she attached the cord to the D-ring on my collar and helped me up from the couch. What choice did I have?
Swallowing, I nodded and replied, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The Halloween Fetish Ball
The drive to the ball was a dream – or a nightmare, depending on your point of view. Maxine carefully helped me get into the front seat of the car, and kindly buckled my seatbelt for me. “Don’t want you falling out of the car”, she laughed. Once the drive began, my predicament began to unfold. Every bump in the road caused the intruders in my groin to make their presence felt, and quickly I felt myself approaching a massive orgasm. As my breathing became ragged Maxine looked over at me, “Are you okay?” As I glared at her with a glazed look in my eyes, she suddenly understood what was happening, chuckling, “Oh… I see that you are very okay!”
With one more bump, my body exploded in orgasm. With the corset allowing me only shallow breaths, I almost fainted, slumping into the chair. It was rare that I had ever had such an intense orgasm – I wondered if I would be able to make it through the night. To make matters worse (better?), the full heinous nature of the twin plugs quickly became apparent – they both started vibrating. “I wondered when they were going to start doing their thing”, Maxine said. “Guess you’re in for a fun night tonight!” she continued, laughing. She is definitely having more fun than I am, I thought to myself. As my body approached another massive orgasm, I reconsidered – okay, maybe she’s not!
Three (four?) orgasms later, we arrived at the location of the Fetish Ball. It seemed like a dream as Maxine handed the keys to the car to an attendant, who couldn’t help but stare at us as he went to park the car. Correction, he’s staring at me, I thought – Maxine looked great, but I was the main event, as she had predicted. As we entered the ball, I was all too aware of my costume and my situation – essentially, I was Maxine’s slave for the evening. She would determine where we went, to whom we spoke, and (my breath caught as I thought this) when I would be set free.
As we entered the ballroom, it quickly became apparent that Maxine knew a large number of people at the ball. We were invited to sit down with a group of Maxine’s acquaintances from the film industry. All of them were impressed by my outfit, to say the least. I was all too aware of the men (and some of the women) staring at my breasts towering over my tiny corseted waist. I desperately wanted to be able to cross my arms in front of me, to offer me at least some protection from the glances coming my way. Of course, with my arms chained behind my back, that was not an option – Maxine had ensured that I would be fully on display for the evening.
The conversation at the table centered on my costume – everyone had questions for Maxine and me. “So the outfit is virtually impossible to remove without the keys?” asked one man who had identified himself as Jake. He looked me up and down, and then looked at the attractive woman sitting next to him, “I would love to get my wife to wear something like that.”
“In your dreams, sweetheart.” she replied, laughing. She introduced herself as Jessica and quietly asked to me, “Are you okay in there? You seem rather… distracted.”
I assured her that I was indeed okay, but explained to her about the plugs, which were working their magic again. “Oh my heavens”, she blushed, “I can’t imagine…” So this is where it begins, I thought as I saw Jessica slide over to Maxine and ask for her business card. I suspect that Maxine just got her first customer.
After a while longer at the table, Maxine tugged at my leash. “Let’s go get a drink”, she suggested. “You must be dying of thirst.” I quickly concurred – I was thirsty, having only taken sips of water throughout the day.
Guiding me through the crowd up to the bar, Maxine told me that I was doing great. “Can you believe that I just set up 5 appointments to have outfits like yours made? I’m going to have more business that I know what to do with – and it’s all thanks to you!”
“Well, I’d like claim a cut of the profits, but I’d settle for some assurance that I’ll be let out of this outfit in the next couple hours!” I replied. Truthfully, I had been in the costume for 5 hours now – it was almost 2 am, and I was getting tired. I had had about 3 more orgasms – smaller ones now – since arriving at the ball, and I didn’t know how much longer I could last. Although it was perfectly made for me, the tightness of the corset was beginning to cause my back to stiffen up a bit, and my legs and calves were beginning to feel sore from wearing the boots. Soon I will have to remove the outfit, I thought.
“Okay – I’ll take it easy on you. Only a while longer, and then I’ll drive you home” Maxine replied. “You are beginning to look a little drained – you’ve worked hard tonight!”
Fortunately, for the rest of the evening, we didn’t have to go anywhere. Word had spread about my costume, and a steady stream of people came to the table we were sitting at to ask about it, and to make appointments with Maxine. After an hour, Maxine proclaimed that she had done enough business for the evening and that we could leave. “Thirty-two appointments in total!” she told me. “That’s potentially enough business to keep me going for 8 months.”
She suggested that she would take me directly home – she had fortunately brought my belongings, including the keys to my flat, with her from the shop. “I’m sure that you just want out of the costume as soon as possible”, she said. I was more than happy with this suggestion – I truly wanted just to take a long bath and go to bed. Fortunately, Maxine had also brought the keys to my cuffs with her in the car – I was more than happy to regain at least part of my freedom. It felt almost bizarre to be able to move my arms freely again.
The drive home went more smoothly than the drive to the ball – truly, I was a spent force. Arriving at my flat, Maxine gave me a bag with my belongings and put the keys to my flat in my hand. Giving me a hug, she asked if I would be available to model for her in the future.
“Give me a chance to get over tonight first” I replied, laughing. “Although I do have to say that I find the offer intriguing.”
Finally, Maxine handed me a small wrapped package “Here’s what you need to get out of your costume. I’ve also put together something else as a ‘thank you’ for all of your work tonight.” I thanked her back and assured her that I had definitely had fun, and looked forward to seeing her again.
As she drove off, I made my way up to my flat. Fortunately, it was almost 5:00 in the morning and none of my neighbors were up yet. I was still painfully aware of the figure I cut in the costume, even if it was Halloween.
Entering my flat, I ripped at the package that Maxine had just given me – I wanted to get the set of keys and start the process of removing the costume as soon as possible. Once the wrapping was off, however, I was astounded to see not the set of keys I was expecting, but rather a framed photo of myself in the costume, plus five $100 bills. However, there was also a small key in the package, attached to a handwritten note. “Perhaps this will explain things,” I thought to myself.
As I quickly read the note, I began to go numb in disbelief. “Thank you so much again for agreeing to be my model” the note read, “This key will open the box I sent you earlier. In the box are all the keys you need to unlock your outfit. Please keep the keys safe – they are the only set in existence. Love, Maxine.”
I sat down on my couch in shock. “Oh my God, what have I done?” I thought. The keys certainly were safe, locked up as they were in my safety deposit box. I looked down at my latex-covered body, shivering in despair. I would not be able to remove any part of the outfit until the weekend was over and I could get to the bank. I had indeed become ‘Catwoman controlled’ - a gleaming fetish slave stuck in my own personal latex prison. I quickly calculated that I would have to last at least 52 more hours – the bank would only open at 9:00 am on Monday morning.
Without the keys the outfit couldn’t be unlocked, and cutting it off was not an option. The inescapability of my skintight outfit now mocked me – I was a prisoner locked in a very intimate cage. My mind and body screamed for release – a release that would not be granted for days. Almost sensing my despair, the plugs buried deep inside me sprang to life, arousing me once more.
As I drifted off into yet another orgasm, a final thought hit me, “Oh no – Monday is a bank holiday!”
76 hours to go…