Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
Catwoman Controlled
by Grimbard
Grimbard@ymail.com
© Copyright 2009 - Grimbard - Used by permission
Storycodes: MF/ff; latex; catsuit; corset; bond; slave; auction; party; toys; cons; X
Catwoman Controlled 2: The Charity Auction by Grimbard MF/ff; latex; catsuit; corset; bond; slave; auction; party; toys; cons; X

I’d welcome all comments you may have.  I can be reached at grimbard@ymail.com.

 

Part 2: The Charity Auction

The Aftermath of the Halloween Fetish Ball

By Sunday afternoon, I was a wreck. 

I had been locked in my latex prison for almost 48 hours and my body was screaming for release.  My torso and calves were sore from the tightness of the corset and boots, and to make matters worse, my bladder was full to the point of bursting.  There was absolutely no way I could release the pressure – the size of the plugs inside me prevented all of my attempts in this regard.

And those damn plugs!  I was granted no rest or reprieve from their vibrating torments.  Every 20 minutes or so they would burst to life – I had lost count of the number of orgasms I had had.  Even worse was when they would bring me to the edge – and then shut off at the last moment.  I would be left a gasping, shuddering mess – dreading (but secretly looking forward to) the next time they would begin again, so I would finally have another orgasm and be granted some release.

Simply put, there was no way I would last until Tuesday morning, when the bank would finally open and I could retrieve the keys in my safety deposit box.   And even if I could last until Tuesday, would I even be allowed to get the keys?  I could well imagine the shocked looks of the bank’s employees as I strutted up to a wicket in my boots, catsuit and corset, asking for permission to open a safety deposit box in the bank’s vault.  What would I do if they asked for identification?  I couldn’t exactly take off my mask – it was locked on me like the rest of the infernal outfit.

So I played my last card – I called Maxine.  I maybe should have done this earlier, but I had really thought that it would be easier to last the weekend in the outfit than it had proved to be.  Also (and this is something I have trouble admitting even to myself), I had secretly wanted to experience being locked in the outfit for an extended period of time – with no possibility of release.  It was so damn sexy!  I loved how I looked in the skintight latex, and loved the pressure it exerted all over my body.  However, the reality of my imprisonment had proven to be more than I had bargained for – and now I needed out desperately.

On the second ring, Maxine picked up the phone, laughing.  “I hadn’t expected to hear from you so soon – are you ready to resume your modeling career?”

As I brought her up to speed on what had happened, she became more serious.  “Oh my God – you’ve been locked in the outfit since Friday night?  I can’t imagine how you must be doing – you must be dying to get out of it.”

I agreed, but reminded her that she had said there was only one set of keys – the set in my safety deposit box.  “That’s true”, she replied, before adding, “There might be another way to open the locks, though.  I don’t make the locks – a business acquaintance of mine does that.  He might have another set of keys – we could ask, anyway.  He’s a bit of a strange character, though – and knowing him, he’ll certainly require payment for any help he does provide.”

“I’m willing to pay practically anything at this point” I offered.  “I just need to get out of this suit as soon as I can.”

Maxine suggested that she could give her business acquaintance a call to see if he could help out, and then call me right back.  “Hopefully, he either has another set of keys, or can make one.  His locks are the best in the business – they’re pretty much unopenable without the exact key that fits the lock.”

I quickly agreed to Maxine’s suggestion and we ended the call.  After a couple minutes, the phone rang – it was Maxine calling me back.  “Good news!” she exclaimed.  “I’ve spoken to the locksmith – his name is Richard, by the way – and he’s agreed to see if he can get the locks on your corset open.  He lives about 15 minutes out of town - we’re to go there right now.”

We agreed that Maxine would pick me up at my apartment, and then drive me to the locksmith’s house – I was certainly in no condition to be driving anywhere!  Maxine promised that she would be at my apartment as soon as possible.  All I had to do now was wait for Maxine to pick me up.

The Locksmith – and the Agreement

As soon as I got off the phone, I gathered up an extra set of clothes and got ready to leave the apartment.  I decided not to wear the clothes over top of the costume as they would have been difficult to put on and my catwoman mask would have showed anyway.  “It’s still close enough to Halloween, so I hopefully won’t look too out of place,” I rationalized.  “Anyway, I might as well give my neighbors something to gossip about!” 

The truth of the matter was that I really didn’t care what my neighbors would think anymore.  Because my individuality was hidden behind my latex mask and costume, internally I was feeling more and more like what I appeared to be on the outside – an anonymous fetish slave.  This was surprisingly liberating – I felt like I could do or say anything.  “It’s funny that I have to be locked into a skintight latex outfit to feel like a liberated woman!” I thought to myself.  “I’m sure a psychiatrist would have something to say about that!”

After about half an hour, the buzzer to my apartment rang – it was Maxine.  Her eyes opened wide when I opened the door.  “Oh you poor thing!” she exclaimed. “I feel absolutely horrible about this. I should have told you that the little box held the keys to your costume – then we wouldn’t be in this mess.”  I assured her that it was not her fault.  I was the one who had assumed what the contents of the box were and deposited it in the bank – I should have called her to ask before doing so. 

Maxine helped me walk to her car, which she had parked in my building’s underground garage.  It was a slow process - I still was not used to walking in the 5-inch heels of my boots, and that, plus the tightness of the corset and the (now-vibrating) plugs, caused me to sway and totter all the way to her car.  I was very, very glad to finally be able to ease my way into the passenger’s seat. 

As we pulled out of the underground garage, Maxine explained about her dealings with Richard.  “He’s very rich – well, you’ll see what I mean when we get to his place in the country.  Basically, making locks and other bondage paraphernalia is just a hobby for him – he must make his money from his other business dealings.  Anyway, he’s a major figure in the fetish and BDSM community, and has been a very useful contact for me in the past few months since I’ve been trying to break into the fetish market.  As I mentioned before, he’s a bit of a character – you’ll see what I mean when we get to his house.  Just try not to look too shocked by some of the things you might see.”   

We quickly made our way out of the city and up into the surrounding hills, where Richard lived.  His estate was in an exclusive neighborhood that I had heard about, but had never visited.  The neighborhood consisted of about a dozen 5-acre properties, all fronting onto a spring-fed lake.  Simply put, it was a stunning locale, with massive pine, oak, and hemlock trees providing an overhead canopy and light sparkling off the waters of the lake.  It was also very private – as we pulled up the driveway to Richard’s large cedar and glass house no other properties could be seen. 

Maxine helped me out of the car and helped me walk slowly up to the front door.  There was an intercom buzzer with a small camera installed above it next to the door.  Maxine pressed the button, and almost immediately, a male voice with a crisp British accent came on the speaker.  “Maxine!  So good of you to make your way up here – welcome!  And I see that you’ve brought your friend – excellent!  Just a moment – I’ll send Gloria down to let you in.”

After a moment, we heard a rustling on the other side of the door and then a click and a buzz, and then the door swung open.  I must say that I got a bit of a shock when I saw the woman who had opened it.  ‘Gloria’ was a woman who, at first glance, appeared to be in a situation far worse than my own.  She was a vision in black latex and steel.  The main part of her outfit was a skin-tight black latex bodysuit with a high neck, accompanied by a pair of opera-length latex gloves.  She was also wearing thigh-high latex boots with heels that were at least 7 inches high.  These had been laced tightly onto her legs, and I could see that she was having a fair amount of difficulty walking in them.

The rest of her outfit was even more extreme.  First, her waist was being crushed by a formidable-looking corset, made entirely out of steel.  Several locks down the front of the corset indicated that Gloria wouldn’t be removing the corset without assistance – it pushed her large breasts up almost obscenely, and caused her to walk with an exaggerated swaying gait. 

Adding to her distress, Gloria’s head was covered in a full coverage latex hood, with only 2 small nose holes for her to breathe through.  Even her eyes were covered by tinted plastic panes incorporated into the latex of the hood.  As well, I could see from how her cheeks puffed out that she was wearing an inflatable gag under the hood – she certainly couldn’t make any sound louder than a soft grunt as she indicated to us to follow her.  She also wouldn’t be removing her hood anytime soon – a wide steel posture collar was locked around her neck, forcing her head up proudly, and preventing anyone without the key from removing the hood.

When she turned around to lead us to Richard, we could see the final aspect of poor Gloria’s predicament.  Her arms, encased as they were in the shoulder-length latex gloves, had been brought up behind her back and forced into an inverted prayer position.  Steel bands at the wrist and elbow, along with a short chain that ran from her bound wrists to the back of her collar, ensured that Gloria would stay in this uncomfortable position until these bonds were removed.  I couldn’t imagine wearing an outfit like hers for any length of time – I was certainly flexible from my years of doing yoga and Pilates, but even I couldn’t imagine being corseted and bound like Gloria had allowed herself to be.

She led us through the house, which was very modern.  Displayed throughout the house was Richard’s large collection of fetish art – from sculptures to paintings, the recurring theme was of women bound in often outrageous outfits, almost always black, skintight, and shiny.  Although this would have shocked me a short while ago, my threshold for being shocked had increased significantly since the Fetish ball and my personal experience of being trapped in my outfit.  As it was, I found myself actually getting aroused by some of the pieces of artwork, although this might have been aided by the fact that the plugs in my groin had sprung to life again.

Finally, Gloria led us up a short flight of stairs into a large sitting room with glass windows overlooking the lake. A man was sitting on a leather sofa in the room, frowning over some engineering schematics which he had spread over the coffee table.  As Gloria hobbled over to kneel by the sofa, he carefully locked a short chain that was attached to the arm of the sofa to the D-ring on the front of her collar.  Then he stood up and walked over to us with a big smile on his face.

“Maxine – I am pleased to see you,” he exclaimed.  “And this must be your friend, who has seemingly got herself into a bit of a tricky situation.  I must say, now that I see her, I’m not so sure that I want to help you both – she looks absolutely delicious in that outfit!”  

Laughing, Maxine quickly introduced us and let Richard lead us back into the room.  “Of course, you’ve met my wife Gloria,” he asked.  “Although she hasn’t been too talkative as of late, and probably didn’t even introduce herself!”

“She’s your wife?” I asked incredulously.  “Why is she dressed like that, then?”

Richard laughed as he saw my shocked face.  “Of course she’s my wife – and my muse.  Do you actually think I could hire someone to wear what she’s wearing?  It’s so difficult to get good help these days, my dear!”

He continued, “As to why she is dressed like that – well, she lost a game – a game that she maybe now wishes she had tried a little harder at.”  Richard explained that every Sunday night, he and Gloria played a high-stakes game of scrabble.  If Gloria lost, she was required to act as his maid and to wear an unspecified ‘uniform’ for several hours each day for the week.  If Richard lost, he was required to wait on her hand and foot for the week, giving her massages on demand, making her breakfast in bed, and of course, satisfying all of her sexual needs.

“Unfortunately for Gloria, she’s not much of a scrabble player – I’ve yet to lose a game after 2 years of us having our regular Sunday night match.  Of course, this has led me to suspect that she actually wants to lose.  She certainly does look fetching in the various outfits that I’ve designed for her, though, so I don’t question things too much!”

As we sat down, Richard asked us to recount how I had become stuck in the outfit.  “So, the keys haven’t been lost, just ‘misplaced’ in a very secure, but inaccessible location – the local bank.  How unfortunate!  And now you need my assistance to remove the beautiful garment in which you are trapped.”

He continued, “Well, I think I may be able to help you out – provided, of course, that you both agree to repay me for my efforts.”

Maxine and I began to assure him that we would certainly pay him well for his work.  He began to laugh, however, cutting us off, “My dears – I have no real need of your money, what I require of you both is your help with an event that I’m hosting!”

He began to explain, “In two weeks time, I’m hosting a large charity auction here at my house – naturally, with a fetish/BDSM theme.  What I need from you both is twofold.  First, I need you to work at the party as servers, offering people glasses of wine and hors d’oeuvres.  The party should attract around 75 people, so you’ll be hard at work for several hours during the evening – this is a group of people with very large appetites!”

Maxine and I looked at each other – an evening doing catering work didn’t seem too bad as repayment for Richard to extricate me from my outfit.  However, before we could agree, Richard proceeded to further outline his requirements, “Naturally, given the theme of the party, you will both be expected to wear appropriate attire…  Maxine, if you agree to all of this, I would need you to design outfits for yourself and your friend that are virtually identical to your friend’s costume here - basically, catsuits with attached gloves and boots and locking corsets over top.  I don’t want the outfits to have attached hoods, though – instead, I’ll provide you with the specifications for another hood that can be worn, or not worn, with the outfit depending on the circumstances.”

Glancing at me thoughtfully, he added, “Of course, I would need the outfits to be made out of the same type of tamper-proof latex – such a wonderful material!  I would also require plugs to be installed on the costumes such as you have done on this costume.  Oh, and naturally, I would be the keyholder to the locks on both your costumes – we wouldn’t want the keys to end up in a security deposit box again!”

Maxine and I looked at each other again – this was a bit more than we had bargained for.  While I would agree to almost anything, so desperate was I to get Richard’s help in removing my costume, I could see that Maxine was reluctant to agree to a deal where she herself would be locked in a skintight latex prison, with someone else holding the keys to her freedom. 

“Before you accept or reject my proposal, you should hear the second part of it”, Richard continued.  “As I mentioned before, this is a charity auction with a fetish/BDSM theme – for the highlight of the auction at the end of the night, I would require both of you to be bound and put up for auction – as slaves for a 3-month period!”

“You can’t be serious!” Maxine blurted out before he was almost finished speaking.  “There’s absolutely no way that you can expect us to agree to be slaves for 3 months – you must be mad!”  I had to agree with her – there was no way I could agree to this condition, even though I was desperate to get Richard’s help.

Looking at our outraged faces, Richard began to laugh.  “I thought that might get you a bit riled up,” he chuckled.  “Here - let me explain things a bit more.”

He began to outline his idea.  “The key to my plan is that we will be allowing remote bidding at this auction – people who are not at the party will still be allowed to bid provided that they register in advance.  So, if you both register as bidders, you will be allowed to bid on each of your 3-month periods of slavery.  Assuming you win - and we can pretty much guarantee that you will - you’ll both walk away free at the end of the evening.”

I immediately had a number of questions that I fired off.  “So how exactly can we bid on anything when we’re the ones up at the front of the room being auctioned off?  Oh - and how can we even afford to do this?  I suspect that there will be some wealthy people in the room – personally, I don’t have thousands of dollars sitting around in a drawer somewhere.  What if we get outbid?”

Richard held up his hands.  “Those are all valid questions!   First off, it’s important to realize that this is an auction, so the person selling the good or service is the one being paid – the auction only gets a small percentage of the value of the item being sold – 3%.  So, if the winning bid on your period of slavery is $50,000 – you get $50,000 as compensation and are required to pay only $1,500 to the auction.  If you’re the one who made the winning bid, everything basically cancels out - you end up paying $50,000 to yourself, of which only $1,500 goes to charity.”

He continued, “In regards to you not being able to bid, we can get around this by setting things up automatically before the auction.  Given that people from around the world will be allowed to bid remotely, we’re using an automated bidding system for the auction that basically works like eBay.  Before the auction starts, you can put in a maximum amount that you’re willing to bid on an item.  If someone outbids you, the system automatically keeps increasing your bid until it reaches the maximum amount you’ve specified.  The key is to make sure that we pick a maximum bid that will be higher than anyone else is willing to pay.”

This sounded more reasonable to me - I could do this.  I looked over at Maxine, and she also seemed to have been reassured by Richard’s answers to my questions.  However, I still had one more question for Richard, “So, what should we put as our maximum bids?”

“Good question”, replied Richard.  “In my experience, I’ve never seen a bid go higher than $50,000 for 3-month slaves – and we’ve done this several times before.  However, if you want to play it safe, you could specify a maximum bid of $100,000.  With that, you would be virtually guaranteed to have the winning bid at the end of the night.  As a token of my goodwill, I’ll even pay any auction fees for you both, so the evening won’t cost you a thing!”

This sounded reasonable to me - I quickly agreed to both parts of Richards’s proposal.  Maxine took a couple moments more to think about it, but eventually agreed as well.  Turning to me, she said, “I never thought that I would make a costume like yours for myself, but I know you need Richard’s help, so I’ll do it.  Who knows, it might be fun – I know you certainly had a good time at the party a few nights ago!”

With everything agreed to, Richard walked over to an oak cabinet and produced a set of keys which he used to open the locks to my corset, collar and boots.  “I always make a second copy – you never know when they’ll be needed,” he explained.

The relief I felt was immediate as I removed the strict corset in which I had been imprisoned.  Asking directions to the nearest bathroom, I ran as fast as I could to it in my heels, and was able to remove the rest of the costume and finally relieve myself.  Bliss.  Looking down at the pile of black latex at my feet, I couldn’t help but wonder at the power of the costume to stimulate me.  I would definitely wear it again – although I would be much more careful in the future where I kept the keys.

I had a quick shower and changed into the clothes that I had brought with me from my apartment.  Returning to the sitting room where I had left Richard and Maxine, I saw them both pouring over a few drawings that had been spread over the coffee table.  They appeared to have been having a heated discussion while I had been away.

“As I said before, it will only be for around 30 minutes – you’ll be fine!” Richard said emphatically.

I could hear the doubt in her voice as Maxine replied, “Of course – only half an hour.  Easy to say when you’re not going to be the one up on stage in heavy bondage!”

I asked what the matter was.  Turning to me, Maxine explained, “Richard is insisting that we have to wear hoods with inflatable gags for the entire evening.  Even worse, when we are auctioned off at the end of the night, he wants us to be wearing the same type of “inverted-prayer” fetters that Gloria is wearing.  Even though he assures me that it will only be for about half an hour, I think that this is too extreme – we’re already going to be locked into our catsuits, corsets and boots.”

I couldn’t believe what came out of my mouth next – it was almost as if a different person was speaking.  “I think I agree with Richard,” I said slowly.  “Personally, I don’t mind having to be gagged – it’s not like I’m going to want to make small talk with anyone anyway.  In terms of the fetters – well, we are being auctioned off as slaves.  It just seems right to me that we should be bound when the auction is happening.  As long as it’s not for too long, we should be fine.”

As Maxine looked at me incredulously, Richard smiled broadly, “Excellent, it’s all settled then!  Maxine, I will leave it up to you to design the catsuits – remember, the tighter the better!  I’ll send you the specifications for your hoods later this week, as well as the locking devices for the corsets and other hardware you’ll need for the costumes.  This is happening in two weeks, so we don’t have much time!”

He walked us to the door – Gloria, chained as she was to the sofa, was in no position to see us out.  Waving us goodbye, he gave us a final instruction with a grin, “Don’t worry!  You’ll both have an excellent time at the charity auction - I guarantee it!  Just think of it as an adventure!” 

As we drove off, Maxine and I looked at each other – what had we just gotten ourselves into?  As per usual, it would be more than I bargained for…

Getting ready for the Auction

The two weeks passed quickly – I was busy at work, so I didn’t have much time to think about the upcoming event.  I knew that Maxine was hard at work on the costumes, though – she had called me to confirm some of my measurements and told me the costumes would be ready the day before the auction.  She would pick me up mid-afternoon on Saturday and drive me to Richard’s house, where we would get dressed.  Maxine also passed along the website address for the auction – I was to register as a bidder, so I could put in a bid on my period of slavery before the auction officially began.

The day of the auction, I logged on to the website, and placed my maximum bid for my period of slavery - $100,000.  As I did so, I began to get butterflies again – what was I thinking when I had agreed to all of this?  What if something went wrong?  At the very least, I would be spending the evening serving drinks to people while locked in an outrageous fetish costume – why did knowing this send thrills down my spine?

True to her word, Maxine arrived at my house in mid-afternoon to pick me up.  As I got in the car, I could see two large duffle bags in the back seat – each presumably holding one of the costumes we soon would be wearing.  We didn’t have much to say to each other as we drove to Richard’s house – each of us was focused on what the evening would bring.

Arriving at the house, we saw a young woman stretching on the front steps – she had obviously just come back from a run.  She greeted us as we walked up the path, “Hi, I’m Gloria – we’ve met before, although I didn’t get to talk to you much when you were here last time!”

We all laughed at this, and she let us into the house.  Gloria was very attractive – she was about 30 years old, and had her dark hair in a cute pixie-style cut.  She was a bit shorter than me – about 5’7” – but I could see that she was very fit – her lean body was shown to great advantage in the running tights and top she was wearing.  Other than her good looks, she looked - dare I say it – so normal.  It was impossible to tell by looking at her that she spent a good part of each day locked in some of the most extreme fetish outfits imaginable. 

In any case, she got right to business, “Richard is not here at the moment – he’s out getting some last-minute supplies.  So he asked me to help you both get dressed and ready.  This should be fun!  We don’t have much time though – guests are scheduled to arrive in less than three hours!”

As we opened the duffle bags and pulled out the costumes, Gloria’s eyes opened wide.  “Those costumes are going to look absolutely amazing on you guys,” she said enthusiastically.  Indeed, it looked like Maxine had done a remarkable job again on the costumes we would be wearing.  This time around, she had chosen two different colors for our catsuits – I would be wearing a black catsuit with a red corset, while Maxine would be wearing a red catsuit with a black corset.  Other than that, the only other difference that I could see from the costume I had worn two weeks previously was that the costumes did not have attached hoods – rather, I could see a separate hood in the bottom of each duffle bag.

Gloria kept us focused. “Okay, who’s first?” she asked us.  Nodding towards me, Maxine indicated that it would be me.  Secretly thrilled, knowing that I would soon be locked in the intimate embrace of one of Maxine’s costumes, I gave a mock pout of displeasure, but quickly began to strip out of my clothes.

I knew the drill from the last time, so I liberally applied the lubricant that Maxine handed me all over my body.  This time, I had two women helping me get dressed, so getting the catsuit on went more smoothly than last time.  In particular, the top part of the catsuit, although skin-tight again, was easier to get on as it didn’t have a hood attached - just a high neck.  Once it was on, Gloria smoothed out all of the wrinkles, and then pulled the lower half of the catsuit from the duffle bag.

If anything, the plugs that had been installed on the lower part of the catsuit appeared slightly larger than those I had worn two weeks previously.  “Richard sent me these with the rest of the hardware for your costume,” Maxine explained.  “They’re evidently much more advanced than the ones on your last costume.”

More advanced or not, the two plugs practically filled me to bursting by the time the lower part of the costume had been pulled up to my waist and zipped together with the top half.  Again, I was unsteady on my feet, tottering in the 5-inch heels of the boots attached to the lower part of the costume.  “At least this time I won’t have my arms chained behind my back – that should make it a bit easier to walk,” I thought to myself.

Like last time, I was able to step into the now-loose corset, which was then pulled up to just under by breasts with the help of my two assistants, along with a generous coat of lubricant.  Gloria instructed me to hold onto a bar over my head, and then proceeded to tighten the corset with the aid of the same type of tightening device that Maxine had used on me two weeks previously.

As the corset slowly tightened, I could hear the ratchets embedded in the corset clicking away – and with each click, I could see my waist visibly getting smaller.   Gloria obviously had had a lot of experience tightening corsets – she paused more than a dozen times to let my poor waist adjust.  Each time she stopped, I thought we were finished, only to have her say, “I think we can get it a little tighter – let’s just wait for a few minutes and then have another go!”

Finally, with me on the verge of passing out, she pronounced herself satisfied.  “Almost done – all we need to do is get your hood and collar on and you’ll be all set.”  With that, she rummaged around the duffle bag, finally pulling out the hood that I would be wearing for the duration of the evening

I was my first good look at the hood.  If there was one word to define it, that word would be “formidable”.  It was shiny black with only large eyeholes and two small holes at the nose for breathing.  I was to be catwoman again – like the hood I wore two weeks previously, Maxine had glued two latex “ears” to the top of the hood. 

That was where the similarities ended, though.  Unlike last time, there was no mouth-hole on this hood – instead, two bright-red “lips” had been molded on the hood where normally a mouth-hole would be.  As we had agreed two weeks previously, Maxine and I would be gagged for the evening.  As Gloria turned the hood inside-out in preparation for putting it on me, I could see a limp air bladder attached to the inside of the hood.  Once the hood was on and the air bladder pumped up, I would be prevented from making any sound other than a soft grunt.  The thought of this sent a thrill down my spine.

Gloria coated the inside of the hood with lubricant, and then, as there was no zipper on the hood, proceeded to tug and pull with all of her strength to get the tight neck of the hood over my head.  It took about 15 minutes, but finally she was able to get the hood on and adjusted properly with the limp air bladder in my mouth.  It did not remain limp for long – Gloria took a small pump from a shelf in the room and attached it to an almost invisible hole located between the two lips molded on the hood – 10 pumps later I was rendered almost entirely mute.  For good measure, Gloria pumped 3 more times – the air bladder now filled my entire mouth, stretching my jaw.  I could have tried to scream as loud as possible and all anyone would have heard would be a whistling sound from my nose - there would be no easy way to communicate to anyone my needs or desires, or if I was in any trouble.  Simply put, I was in ecstasy.

Gloria pulled 2 more items out of the duffle bag – the two pieces of the shiny steel collar that would lock together, forming an integrated, inescapable collar around my neck.  Without hesitation, Gloria snapped them together around my neck, and tightened them securely.  This collar was much wider than the one I had worn two weeks previously – it was almost the width of a neck corset.  Its width and tightness would certainly prevent anyone from tampering with the hood – again, I would be entirely at the mercy of the keyholders of my costume to achieve any release.  I reached to adjust it slightly with my gloved hands and found that two D-rings had been installed in the front and back of the collar – useful accessories for when I would be bound later in the evening. 

The entire dressing process had taken over an hour.  Gloria stood back from me, appraising my latex and steel covered figure. “You look… absolutely amazing,” she declared.  “Why don’t you just sit on the sofa while I get Maxine dressed – it will be a long night for you guys, so you should get as much rest now as you can.”

Gagged as I was, I couldn’t answer her, so I simply walked over to the sofa to relax.  As I walked over, I could see myself in the mirror that graced one of the walls – again, I was shocked at how I had been transformed.  I was now the epitome of a fetish slave – skin-tight black and red latex covered almost every inch of my body, with the corset in which I had been imprisoned crushing my waist and thrusting up my breasts.   My hood was almost a mockery – like two weeks previous, I was catwoman, a character who was supposed to be wild and free.  Instead of being wild and free, however, I was gagged and bound, with the wide steel collar proclaiming to the world that I was a slave who would soon be sold to the highest bidder.  The irony was not lost on me as I watched Gloria help Maxine struggle into her costume.

And this was definitely entertaining!  Unlike me, Maxine was not particularly thrilled to have to wear the costume which she had designed for herself.  She was much more dominant than me - she identified much more with being the keyholder than the one having the key held for her.  While the top half of the catsuit went on without a hitch, she groaned loudly when it came to putting on the lower half, protesting loudly that the plugs were far too large for her to handle, and that she would barely be able to walk in the 5-inch heels of the attached boots.  Gloria took all of her complaints stoically, continuing to help Maxine get into the costume.  Finally, the bottom half was pulled up and zipped together with the top half, forming the complete skin-tight red catsuit that Maxine would be wearing for the evening.

If I thought that Maxine had been complaining loudly before, though, it was nothing compared to her groans of displeasure as Gloria helped her into her corset and began to tighten it.  “You’re practically crushing me – I can hardly breathe!” she exclaimed loudly.  In reply, Gloria explained that the corset was nowhere near tight enough if Maxine could draw enough breathe to protest so loudly  - and continued to adjust the buckles that tightened the corset.  At last, when Maxine looked like she might fall over in despair, with her breasts towering over her tiny corseted waist, Gloria pronounced herself satisfied.  At this point, I could tell that Maxine was a defeated woman – I could see her looking down at her shiny red body, wondering why she had ever allowed herself to be locked into an inescapable latex prison as she had, no longer in control of her own fate.

Finally, Gloria installed the hood and collar on Maxine, pumping up the gag to render Maxine as mute as I was.  She then instructed Maxine to rest on the sofa for a few minutes while she got dressed herself.  Unable to speak or communicate in any way, Maxine tottered over to the sofa – she really was having some difficulty walking in the heels - and flopped down, exactly as I had done one hour previously.

Gloria soon returned, accompanied by Richard.  He broke into a broad grin when he saw us.  “You both look absolutely perfect for tonight’s event – I’m going to have a hard time getting the guests to tear their eyes off you to actually bid on anything!” he exclaimed. 

Both he and Gloria had dressed for the party.  Richard was wearing tight leather pants, with a white silk shirt and a black silk cape.  Gloria was wearing a skin-tight black mini-dress, with long arms and a high neck - she looked like she had been poured into it.  Knee-high latex boots with 6-inch heels completed her outfit – she looked incredible, and knew it.

“This is the first year of the auction where I’m actually going to be able to talk to the guests,” she confessed.  “In the past, Richard has always insisted that I be hooded and gagged like you.  That was fun, but it will be a nice change to be able to actually talk to people this year.  Richard and I have known many of the people coming for a number of years – it will be nice to have a visit with them.”

Richard interjected, “I just got a call on my cell a few minutes ago – a number of our guests are scheduled to arrive by limousine in about 10 minutes.  Gloria, can you show our two “caterers” to the ballroom, and help get them oriented?”

“Naturally,” she replied, helping Maxine and I off the couch.  She began to lead us through the house to where the auction would take place.  I quickly realized that I had only seen a small portion of the house before - the house was much larger than I had initially thought.  I had only seen the top floor – there were at least 3 other levels below, one of which had a medium-sized ballroom and an extra kitchen.  It was here that Gloria led us.

“Your work tonight should be fairly straightforward,” she started off, showing us the kitchen facilities.  “Richard and I have already ordered the trays of hors d’oeuvres for the party.  One of you will responsible for heating up the hors d’oeuvres, and pouring the wine.  The other will be responsible for walking around with the trays of hors d’oeuvres and wine and offering them to people.” 

She looked at Maxine with some concern.  “Maxine - I don’t think that you should be the one walking around – you’re really having some difficulty walking in those heels.  You can stay here behind the counter and take care of the food and drinks.”

Turning to me, Gloria continued, “So you get to mingle with the guests!  Maxine will organize the trays that you are to take around, and set them on the counter here.  Your job is to simply pick them up and walk around the ballroom, offering them to guests.”

Unable to communicate verbally that I wasn’t exactly steady on my feet either, and that I had some concerns about my ability to walk around with trays of wine, I simply nodded my acceptance as best I could.  In any case, there wasn’t time to try to write Gloria a note or anything explaining all of this, as I could hear Richard coming down the stairs, followed by a phalanx of around 20 guests – the first group to arrive.  The party was about to begin.

The Party before the Auction

In hindsight, the first couple hours of the party went very well – the work was fairly straightforward, and I did enjoy walking around the room, eyeing the outfits that people were wearing and catching snippets of their conversations as I offered them food and wine.  As Richard had predicted, there ended up being around 75 guests in total, almost all of whom had arrived within the hour after the initial group of 20.  Some of their outfits were amazing – almost all were made of either latex or leather, and some of the designs were truly inspirational. 

One woman in particular stood out, though.  She was one of the few who was not wearing either latex or leather.  Rather, she was wearing a ivory silk gown that went had a high neck and was skin-tight all the way to just over her knees, where it flared out dramatically.  Although she was over 40 years old, she was in amazing shape and truly had a commanding presence – helped immeasurably by the fact that she was probably at least 5’10” without wearing heels.  As she entered the ballroom, the buzz of conversation noticeably decreased – it was almost as if people were holding their breathe in anticipation of what she might say or do.

Gloria was at my side almost immediately.  “The woman who just entered the room is Lady Katherine Laroche – the billionaire heiress.  Please go and offer her some wine and hors d’oeuvres – and make sure that you take care of her for the rest of the evening.  She is a very powerful figure in the fetish community – an excellent friend to have, but a fierce enemy.”

I had just taken a full tray of food and wine from the kitchen counter, so I quickly went over to Lady Katherine (as I now know her) to offer her something from the tray.  This is when the evening went horribly wrong, perhaps changing my life irrevocably.  If only I had slowed down a bit!  In any case, what is done is done – all I can do now is recount what happened.

Basically, I stumbled.  More than stumbled, really – I totally wiped out.  I’m not sure if there was a flaw in the carpet that the heel of one of my boots got caught in, or if it was just me having my usual difficulties walking in 5-inch heels, but however it happened, the end result was that I pitched forward violently, just as I was approaching Lady Katherine.  The tray of food and wine I was carrying went all over her, covering her from head to toe – ruining her silk dress of course, and pretty much everything else she was wearing.

I slowly regained my feet, turning to stand before her.  Quite rightly, she was glaring at me – and I could tell that she was even more furious than she was letting on.  Of course, in my gagged state, I could not tell her how sorry I was that this had happened – all I could do was futilely try to communicate my sorrow through my eyes. 

Both Richard and Gloria practically flew over to where Lady Katherine and I were standing and began to babble apologies – it would have been almost comical to see if I was not the reason why they were apologizing.  Gloria tried to dab at Lady Katherine’s dress with a cloth to try to remove at least some of the mess, but Lady Katherine waved her away.  “As you can see, my dress is ruined – and no amount of scrubbing is going to change that.  I do hope that you have something else that I can wear.”

Glaring at me again, she continued, “And it is quite clear that this slave should not be allowed to continue to serve this evening – she obviously requires a lot more training.  I saw on the auction list that she is one of the two women up for auction tonight – perhaps now would be a good time to put her on display for the auction.”

“An excellent idea,” agreed Richard.  “I’ll get her ready right now.”  As he led me away by the elbow, I could see Gloria and Lady Katherine leaving the room, presumably to find something for Lady Katherine to change into.

Richard guided me behind the curtain of a stage that had been set up at the far end of the ballroom.  I could tell he was worried.  “I hate to say it, but you’ve made a bad enemy tonight in Lady Katherine,” he said.  “I’m going to try to explain things to her, but she is going to want to see that you are punished for ruining her dress.  I think the thing to do is to put you in your fetters now and make sure they’re very tight – Lady Katherine will expect this at the very least.  The last thing we want is for her to think that we are not taking her complaint seriously.”

I nodded my agreement with this as best I could.  With my consent given, Richard indicated that I should stand in the far left corner of the stage.  Two eyebolts had been attached to the stage there, about three and a half feet apart.  As well, I could see a chain hanging from the ceiling.  It all looked very ominous.

Richard wasted no time in getting me bound for the auction.  Two shiny stainless steel fetters were quickly locked around my ankles and then attached to the eyebolts in the floor with six-inch steel rods.  My legs were now stretched apart and immobilized.  Next, Richard attached the chain hanging from the ceiling to the back of my collar and then used a winch to draw the chain up sharply – not to the point where I was being choked, but certainly well past the point where I had any ability to move my head at all.

I still could move my arms at this point, but that freedom was soon taken away from me as well.  Richard produced four more stainless steel bands – two to fit tightly just above my elbow and two for my wrists, and helped me stretch my arms behind me into an inverted prayer position.  I had to arch my back as much as I could to get into the required position – as I mentioned before, I’m flexible, but I was definitely reaching my limits.

Looking at me with some pity, Richard then proceeded to lock me in this painful position.  The steel bands encircling my wrists were locked together with a small padlock.  Richard then pulled my bound hands forcefully up and attached the wrist cuffs with a short steel rod to the back of my collar.  Finally, the two bands above my elbows were drawn together and locked with another short steel rod.  With his work done, Richard stood back and admired his handiwork.

I didn’t know how long I could stand this.  My body had been immobilized almost totally, with my feet chained to the stage and my collar being drawn to the ceiling.  My arms had essentially been fused together behind my back, which was arched to try to take the strain off my shoulders, which were already on fire.  Unfortunately, there was no way to communicate this to Richard – again, the inflatable gag I had agreed to wear for the evening prevented all attempts at verbal communication.

In any case, Richard’s attention was directed behind me, where I could hear two people approaching.  It was Gloria and Lady Katherine.  As they came around to the front of me, I could see that Lady Katherine had changed out of her silk gown and was now wearing a black latex gown with long sleeves and a high neck – it looked like it had been painted on her.  She had a smile on her face, but the gleam in her eyes told me the truth - she was still furious with me.

Stepping towards me, she reached up to caress my latex-covered cheek with her hand.  Speaking softly, so that only I could hear, she said, “Well, it’s been years since I wore latex – something I consider that only slaves like you should wear – but Gloria didn’t have anything else that would fit me.  So I do hope that you’re happy!”

Stepping back, she began to circle me, continued her examination of my tightly-bound form.  She began to fire questions to Richard. 

“So her outfit is made of a special type of latex that can’t be cut off or removed without the keys?”

“And she’s agreed to be auctioned off for a 3-month period?”

“And the latest design of your plugs has been installed in the outfit?”

As Richard responded positively to all of these questions, I could see her becoming more and more pleased.  All she said though was, “Very interesting – very interesting indeed!  Well, I’m sure that whoever wins the auction for her will get their money’s worth.” 

I was a bit confused about the third question she had asked Richard – what was different about the plugs that I was wearing now versus the ones that had been installed in my costume 2 weeks ago?  The only difference I had noticed so far was that they had not vibrated even once in the time I had been wearing them.  I had wondered about this in the back of my mind, but hadn’t had time to think about it more given how busy I had been all evening.  However, now I began to wonder a bit more about the nature of the plugs embedded inside me. 

In any case, I again didn’t have much time to reflect on this as my attention was diverted by the sight of Maxine being led by Gloria to where we were behind the curtain of the stage – the auction would evidently be beginning soon.  Maxine was led to the far right corner of the stage, where she was bound much as I had been a half-hour previously.  I did notice, however, that Gloria was much more merciful with Maxine than Richard had been with me – Maxine’s legs attached to the eyebolts on the floor with much longer steel rods than mine had been, and her arms did not appear to have been drawn upwards so sharply towards the back of her neck.  Still, she was bound just like I was, and from what I could see, not very happy about it.  In any case, neither of us could do anything about our predicament, and it hopefully would not last much longer, because the auction was about to begin.

The Charity Auction

I can only remember bits and pieces of the auction itself – as Maxine and I were hidden behind the curtain for most of it, it wasn’t very interesting as we couldn’t see what was going on.  Richard was the auctioneer, of course, but conducted all of the business at hand from his podium in front of the curtain – Maxine and I would only be revealed at the very end of the auction, when we would be put up for auction in the grand finale. 

All kinds of items and services were being auctioned – sex toys of all varieties and descriptions, weekend getaways at various fetish-themed resorts, and so on.  Richard had an excellent ability to work the audience, alternatively prodding and persuading the members of the audience to bid higher for the item or service being auctioned off.  I was shocked at the prices that some of the items went for – many people in the audience were apparently very well off and had no qualms whatsoever about spending a lot of money to satisfy their sexual desires.

Finally, it was our turn to be sold to the highest bidder.  The curtain was drawn back, and spotlights were trained on Maxine and me.  I could see the audience hungrily looking up at us – this was the moment that many people present had evidently been waiting for – the opportunity to bid on the services of a live fetish slave for a 3-month period.  I could already see several members of the audience typing furiously on their Blackberries – presumably entering in bids for Maxine and/or myself.  I smiled inwardly – the $100,000 maximum bids that Maxine and I had submitted earlier for ourselves meant that there was no chance that we were in any danger.  Therefore, I could relax and enjoy being the center of so much attention.  Soon, the auction would be over and I would be released from my bonds and my outfit – definitely a good thing given that my body had been stretched to the breaking point for over an hour now.

Richard took the microphone and began his sales pitch.  “Before you are the highlight of tonight’s charity auction,” he intoned.  “These two young women have committed to a 3-month period of slavery – without conditions – and have willingly allowed themselves to be dressed in the outfits that you see them in now.  These outfits are very special – first, they are made of a special type of latex that cannot be cut or removed without causing serious burns.  Basically, there is no way for these women to remove any part of their outfits unless you – the keyholder – allow them to.”

He continued with a smile, “The second unique part of these outfits is something that I’ve managed to hide even from the women wearing them.  Integrated into each of these outfits is a pair of vibrating plugs that are my latest design.  Of course, these plugs can be set to vibrate at different frequencies and at different intensities, but what makes them truly unique is how they can be used to frustrate the wearer.  Each plug has over 100 micro-sensors designed to measure body response and adjust the vibrations accordingly.”

He pulled out two small remote controls.  “I suggest we give it a try – I’m going to set each control here to frustrate our two young slaves here.  Imagine what fun you could have doing the same thing – and bid accordingly!”

With that, I could see him press a couple buttons on the remote controls for the plugs embedded in Maxine and myself.  Immediately, the plugs inside me began to vibrate and dance – the sensations they produced were stronger than anything I had experienced before.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Maxine’s plugs were working their magic on her as well – she was writhing and straining at the bonds holding her. 

Within 30 seconds, I had the most intense orgasm of my life.  Almost passing out, I slumped in my bonds.  I could see Maxine doing the same thing.  Barely conscious, I had a hard time focusing on what Richard was saying, but what I did hear set my heart beating with alarm.

“As you can see, each of these beautiful young women has just had an intense orgasm.  Meanwhile, the micro-sensors inside them have measured both of their body responses and stored this information.  As you’ll see, this will produce quite a different result in the next few seconds.”

With that, the plugs sprang to life again, and I quickly began to approach almost the same levels of arousal as I had two minutes previously.  This time, however, the wave building inside me was not allowed to break – a split second before I toppled over the edge of another orgasm, the plugs turned off completely.  I tried to grind my hips as much as possible to obtain relief, but without success – I felt my body edge away from the precipice.  I nearly wept in frustration – and all I could do was slump in my bonds and wait for the cycle to begin again.

Richard continued to instruct the audience.  “As you can imagine, setting these plugs to frustrate your slave can be a very effective form of discipline.  I would imagine that even now each of these women would prefer a stiff caning to a half-hour more with their plugs set to frustrate them.  And the wonderful thing is that this can continue almost indefinitely – or at least until your slave gives out - the batteries powering each of these plugs is recharged from body heat, and will last for over 10,000 hours.”

“So it’s time to start the bidding!” Richard exclaimed, gesturing towards Maxine, who, like me, was now writhing in her bonds again as a result of the plugs, which had begun to vibrate again.  “We will start with our first slave of the evening – Slave #1 in the lovely red catsuit and black corset.  Bidding starts at $10,000!”

 Through the blur of my vibrating torments, I could hear the bids for Maxine increasing rapidly.  Within two minutes, the high bid for her was $65,000, and only then did it start to slow down.  I was glad that we had set the maximum bid for ourselves so high – Maxine had already beaten the all-time record at the auction. 

Finally, the list of bidders for Maxine was down to one – a young man standing at the back of the audience.  He gamely increased his bid to $72,000 – a bid which was instantaneously raised by Maxine’s pre-authorized bid to $73,000.  I could see him shake his head and decline to place a further bid – Maxine had won the bid for herself.

“Sold for $73,000 – a new record!” Richard exclaimed.  Gloria unchained Maxine from the stage and led her to a back room, where presumably she would be removed from her bonds and allowed to remove her outfit.  Her evening was done.

After Maxine had been led away from the stage, Richard continued, “And now we have the second and final slave to be auctioned tonight – Slave #2 in the black catsuit and red corset.  Seeing as the bids for Slave #1 were so high, we’ll start the bidding a bit higher this time - $40,000!”

Both spotlights were trained on me this time, just as the intruders in my groin sprang to life again.  Knowing that they were still set to frustrate me and would not allow me to orgasm, I tried to think of anything – gardening, the queen, whatever – that would help me mentally resist their spine-tingling vibrations.  It was no use, though – I quickly felt myself becoming aroused again.  With my mouth gagged, I had to breathe deeply though my nose, causing my already-arched chest to heave dramatically.  Again, however, I was left to weep in despair – just before I had another orgasm, the plugs inside me shut off, forcing my tortured groin to recollect itself.

This all played out in front of a highly-entertained audience, who understood exactly what was happening to me.  Bidding again increased rapidly - $50,000, $60,000, $70,000, $80,000.  At $85,000, there were only two bidders besides me still in the auction – the young man who had bid on Maxine, and someone else who was hidden from my view behind a large pillar along the side of the room.   At $88,000, the young man dropped out, leaving only the mysterious bidder and myself.

At $90,000 I began to get very worried, and at $94,000 I was terrified.  What if I didn’t win the auction?  Unfortunately, I was in no position to change things now – win or lose, my fate was sealed. 

Fortunately, the bidding appeared to stop with my latest bid of $96,000.  Richard began to close the auction, “$96,000 for Slave #2 – Going once... Going twice...”  Just before he concluded the sale, however, a voice spoke that chilled me to the core – the voice of Lady Katherine, “$101,000!”

She had exceeded the maximum bid I had specified earlier.  Bound and gagged, I was now in no position to raise my bid - I would be her slave for 3-months.  As Richard closed the auction I could see the look of concern on his face – this was definitely not a situation he had envisioned.  Taking pity on me, he turned off the vibrating plugs inside me – I nearly wept in relief.  He and Gloria then released my legs and collar and led me to a room behind the stage, where Lady Katherine was already waiting for me.  She had a wicked smile on her face.

She wasted no time attaching a flexible metal leash to my collar. Giving it a little tug, she spoke, “Well, my dear, it looks like we’ll be spending a bit more time together – I am so looking forward to training you properly!”  She walked around me slowly, taking in my latex-covered form.  I wanted to hide from her penetrating appraisal of me, but there was nothing I could do – I couldn’t even cross my arms in front of me, as they were still bound painfully behind my back in the inverted-prayer position.

“Well, as I said before, whoever would win the auction for you would get their money’s worth,” she said.  “Normally, I like my slaves to be dressed in proper maid’s uniforms, but I think that for you I’ll make an exception – I rather like the idea of a pet kitty roaming the house!”

Turning to Richard, she continued, “I’ll have that remote control now, please, and the keys to her outfit.”  As soon as Richard handed them over, she turned the plugs on again, setting them to the frustration setting that had so tormented me earlier.  Despite the fact that my body was shaking in fear, it quickly responded yet again to the vibrating intruders. 

“Well, time to get home – I have a big day of training planned for you tomorrow!” she laughed mirthlessly. 

Internally, I screamed in despair – it was one thing to fantasize about being a fetish slave, and quite another to actually be one.  My skin-tight latex outfit was again my prison – a prison that this time had the power to frustrate me to the point of insanity.  Furthermore, this time the keys to my freedom were not just out of reach for a few days, but would be held by my mistress and owner for the next three months.  With the plugs inside me buzzing merrily, Lady Katherine led me to the door with a series of sharp pulls on my leash.  Bound and distracted as I was, there was no way I could resist – I was what I appeared to be, a gleaming fetish slave with an unknown future and an unknown fate.

 

24.03.09

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