Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

The Party

by Amber Lane

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© Copyright 2008 - Amber Lane - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; tg; D/s; latex; bond; straitjacket; carboot; transported; cons; X

Darlene groaned as her body shifted again.  The car was taking a right hand curve at what felt like high speed, but the bound transgendered girl had no idea how fast her captor was actually driving.  Darlene had never ridden in the trunk of a car before.  She had no idea how fast the car was moving, but it felt fast. The tg’s bound and strapped body, secured to the floor of the trunk with additional leather straps, shifted to some extent with every lateral movement or change in speed the car made.

Darlene focused on just breathing as normally as possible and resisting the panic that repeatedly tried to assert itself.  She was utterly helpless with her cramped arms squeezed against her back by the latex straitjacket. Her legs were tightly bound with her ankles strapped down against her thighs, and her mouth was filled nearly to the choking point by the inflatable gag. The dual latex hoods pressed against her face, imprisoning her in total and claustrophobic darkness.  The rigid collar seemed to grow tighter around her throat.

More shocking and frightening than being abducted was the realization that someone would actually bind someone as Mercedes had bound her, and then close them in the trunk of a car for a long highway trip, with no way of monitoring their condition along the way. Darlene cursed herself for being foolish even as her excitement coexisted with her fear. She had met Mercedes only a few hours earlier, and should never have allowed this woman, she barely knew, to take control of her in the first place.  Mercedes, as Darlene was discovering minute by horrified minute, was really, really into bondage.

- - - - -

Darlene had arrived at the private Los Angeles tg/bdsm party in a state of anxiety.  She had been out in public only sparingly, and had never attended an event like this one.  She had gained the courage to attend with the urging and support of an on-line girl friend, and the party’s tg hostess, whom she had also met online and who assured her it was a safe environment.  The party would be small, no more than twenty people or so, including tg’s as well as genetic women and a few men.  The abiding rule was that anyone could ask anyone to do anything, but no one was obligated to do anything they didn’t wish to do.

The house was in an affluent L.A. suburb.  The semi-circular driveway was full of cars when Darlene arrived, but Darlene was able to find a parking space directly across the street.  She crossed the street, her heels tapping prettily on the sidewalk. The hostess met Darlene at the door and immediately eased her nervousness with her open friendliness. Darlene found herself wishing at first that the lighting inside the house were a bit dimmer.  While she was slender and, she thought, rather attractive, Darlene was sure she didn’t rank on the same level of beauty as some of the tg’s she saw.  Cover girls, she thought of some of the gorgeous femmes she saw visiting in small groups and moving about the room. Darlene found it virtually impossible in some cases to tell which women were tg’s and which were gg’s. Still, she finally decided she stacked up quite well against the majority of the people there.  Her slender five-eight, hundred and forty-five pound frame was scaled down into a quite nice figure by a very tight corset, which made the torturous extra time she spent getting the stiff black satin as tight as possible worth every minute.

The corset also accentuated her developing breasts, achieved with large amounts of non-prescription hormones to the point where she was considering she might have to start taping them down for her ‘male’ life.  The result was a quite nice, if not exactly huge, display of natural breast and cleavage accented by the low cut neckline of her body hugging little black cocktail dress.  The short skirt also showed off her nicely shaped legs-her strongest asset she thought. She was wearing her favorite black sandals with five-inch heels, and she loved the feel of her stockings on her freshly shaved and oiled legs.. She wore a thin gold necklace, a matching gold bracelet, and a shimmering gold anklet on her right ankle, all of which, along with the black outfit and carefully, perfectly done makeup (for which she thanked her theatre background) set off her beautiful, deep red shoulder-brushing wig.  In fact, though she was too modest to realize it, Darlene was actually one of the prettier tg’s in the place.  And she wasn’t the only one. Even as she looked around the room she was, unaware to her, also the subject of others’ gazes, including a very dominant woman named Mercedes, who marked her almost immediately.

Darlene was disappointed that her friend from online had not arrived yet; however she quickly met several friendly girls and her nervousness melted away as she chatted.  Some of the people there were in fetish wear, but most were in party or casual clothes.  During the first hour or so that she was there, though, Darlene did see a few tg women in some form or other of bondage.  In each case the restrained girl was in the escort of a dominant.

Darlene was talking to a friendly and somewhat petite blonde TG named Cheryl, when her attention was strongly distracted by the sight of a stunning t-girl with long, auburn hair who was wearing a restricting corset dress.  The garment flowed tightly over the woman’s body from its high neck to her knees. Though it was short, it still limited its wearer to short, measured strides in her six-inch stiletto heels, while holding her head up rigidly straight.  The transgirl, whom Darlene found out was named Maura, wore glossy black latex stockings that disappeared beneath the skirt of the corset dress. Topping off her restraining outfit was a full arm-binder made of the same gleaming black leather as the dress, imprisoning her arms behind her from fingertip to armpit.  The black theme was completed by a large black rubber ball gag that vividly set off her red lips. Darlene noted that Maura didn’t appear the slightest bit dismayed by her public bondage.  This could have had something to do with the very pretty and extremely buxom blonde -very likely a genetic woman, Darlene thought– who escorted her.

“You like that, don’t you,” a voice said over Darlene’s shoulder.  It made Darlene jump a little because she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching.  She and Cheryl turned at the same time to see a tall, statuesque woman smiling at them, though to be more specific she was smiling directly at Darlene.  She had large, striking eyes that seemed to be alight with an inner intensity.  She was older than Darlene, but how much so was difficult to tell.

“I cannot tell a lie,” Darlene said with a little laugh, over her surprise now and buoyed by two glasses of white wine, “I love it.  Sigh.  I only wish it were me.” She laughed again, adding her best comic pout.

“So you’re a sub?”  The other, somewhat older woman asked.  Her voice, while a little husky in a velvety alto tone, had a slightly musical lilt to it.

“Totally,” Darlene laughed.  “Couldn’t switch if I had too.  Unfortunately, I haven’t been tied up in so long I think I’ve forgotten how to struggle.”  As she spoke, Darlene found herself wondering why she was spilling out so much about herself to a stranger.

“Well, I think we could fix that quickly enough.” the newcomer said.  Darlene’s senses went on point a bit, although, as she would later ruefully realize, not enough so.  Between the desire to be tied, the wine and the comfort level she had found since arriving, her instincts were pointing toward fulfillment much more than caution. 

“Don’t tell me you have one of those dresses and arm binders handy.” Darlene teased.  She took in the other femme more closely.  The woman was wearing five-inch heels like herself, and was a bit taller. She was wearing a high-necked dress of deep red leather, which reached slightly beyond mid-thigh.  Her figure was slender and bosomy, her legs long and beautifully shaped.  She had long red nails, full red lips, and long, dangling earrings that were actually, of all things, sets of shiny miniature handcuffs.  Her hair was a jet black pageboy cut that curled upward just off of her shoulders. 

“Not with me,” the other said, or purred, Darlene thought, like a cat, “and my tastes run more toward latex than leather.” Her eyes held
steady on Darlene’s and were almost hypnotic.  Darlene felt herself being captivated.

“But I do love thoroughly restraining a willing…submissive, and I just happen to have some items with me that you might like, including a lovely rubber straitjacket.” Darlene felt her heart rate increase.

“I warn you though,”  she smiled disarmingly, “I spell the word dominant with a capital ‘D’. I’m Mercedes.”

Darlene had barely heard anything after the words “latex straitjacket”. She was sure she stood open-mouthed for an eternity before replying.
“D-Darlene.” she finally managed to say.  “Did you say latex straitjacket?” Mercedes laughed. 

“Yes, I certainly did,” Mercedes said.  “and some other goodies as well.  What do you say, Darlene?  The night is young. Do you feel up to being my rubber-bound submissive for the rest of the evening?”

Darlene might have said many things.  She might have thought many things, and probably should have.  But on this fateful moment she saw an amazing opportunity to fulfill a favorite fantasy and said, “Oh my.  Well, uh, yes, Mercedes.  I believe I am.  Up to it.” She paused then added nervously, “You’re not an axe murderer or anything, are you?” 

Mercedes laughed again, a musical, velvety little laugh that made Darlene tingle. “No, honey, I’m not.  In fact,” Mercedes said, “I promise you’re in good hands.  Now, why don’t you use the potty, since you may find it difficult later, then meet me in Ruth’s lovely kitchen.”

Darlene knew she probably should talk to the woman a while longer before making a decision, but she was feeling very bold.  The evening was moving along quickly, and she might not have another chance like this one for a long, long time.  She remembered the assurances she had received about the safe and sane nature of these parties, and decided to take the plunge.

A few minutes later Mercedes had led Darlene to an upstairs bedroom where a small, stylish suitcase lay on the bed. She explained that Ruth, the hostess, always had a couple of rooms guests could use for changing.

“Take off your dress my little submissive.” Mercedes said in a playful tone. “Your shoes, too. Time to get you dressed the way Mercedes likes. You can just lay your dress on the bed, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

Darlene removed her dress and laid it out carefully, then sat down and removed her shoes.  She heard the rustle of heavy latex and her nostrils picked up the aroma of the latex straitjacket even before she saw it, as Mercedes crouched down by her feet. Darlene saw that the garment had a full crotch, with leg openings.  Obediently she placed one, then the other foot through the openings.

“Stand up.” Mercedes said.  Her voice had taken on a less gentle, more authoritative tone.  Darlene complied and felt a surge of excitement as Mercedes pulled the jacket up Darlene’s legs.  It stretched tightly over her thighs and groin as Mercedes worked it into place.  It was surely too small, Darlene thought, then saw that the jacket had no arms at all, and was about to fold her arms in front of her when Mercedes said, “Arms behind you now,” and without waiting Mercedes gripped Darlene’s arms and pulled them behind her, bending them at the elbows so that the fingers pointed toward Darlene’s shoulder blades. 

“Uh, I don’t know if I can hold them up like that,” Darlene said, as Mercedes pulled her arms now inward, forcing Darlene’s elbows in toward the small of her back.  The positioning, while not exactly painful, was uncomfortable, and certainly one that Darlene could not have achieved easily without Mercedes’ help.  Darlene was thankful that she kept herself slim and flexible.

 “Now,” Mercedes said, “let’s just place your right side against the wall.” 

Darlene didn’t think to resist as Mercedes placed her against the wall, keeping her right arm folded in as Mercedes had placed it. Mercedes then used her own body to keep Darlene’s left arm in place while she pulled the edges of the heavy rubber together with one hand and pulled the industrial strength zipper up with the other. Darlene gasped as the rubber enclosure pulled tightly around her body and arms.  The jacket had a high collar, which stretched snugly around Darlene’s throat as Mercedes finished closing the zipper.  Still holding Darlene against the wall, Mercedes produced a wide heavy leather strap and encircled Darlene’s waist before buckling it very tightly, ensuring that Darlene’s arms were pinned in place below the shiny, tightly stretched latex.

“There we are,” Mercedes said, stepping back, “I’d say you’re nicely restrained, don’t you think?”

Darlene stepped, shakily, away from the wall, twisting her body and trying to find some looseness within the garment that now encased her.  There was none, no room for movement whatever.  She could wiggle her fingers a tiny bit against the heavy rubber, but that was all. Her arms sagged downward a bit, trying to unfold, but were stopped and held securely by the strapped rubber encapsulation.  Darlene felt the jacket immediately start to grow warm around her body.

“Oh Lord,” Darlene said, her voice exhibiting breathlessness, excitement and the slightest touch of fear.  “I never dreamed it would be this, this tight.”

“You like it though, don’t you?” Mercedes purred, running her hands over Darlene’s trapped torso.

“I, I love it, but I don’t know how long I can take it.  It’s really, really tight.”

“Don’t worry.  Your arms will settle into place, and the jacket will become more comfortable as it warms to your body, which it should be starting to do even now.”

“Oh yes,” Darlene said.  It’s warming up, for sure.”

“Good.  And you don’t have to worry about how long you can take it.” Mercedes smiled and added, “You’ll take it as long as I want you to.  Now let’s get your shoes back on.  Though I think these five-inch sandals are a little on the short side for a submissive.  Don’t you?  And I just happen to have a more suitable bit of footwear in your size, with me.”

Darlene looked on in shock as Mercedes pulled from the small suitcase a pair of shiny black, wicked-looking English-style Court shoes with spike heels that were at least six inches tall.’

“These are a little over six inches.” Mercedes said, responding to Darlene’s expression.  “Sit down and let’s get you fitted.”

Darlene hesitated and thought about protesting that this was all too much, but Mercedes placed a firm finger across her lips, took her by her rubber-encased torso, and sat her on the bed.

“It’s too late for you to get reluctant now, sweetheart,” Mercedes said.  “You agreed to be my slave for the evening, and now that you’re in my lovely jacket, resistance, as those Borg love to say, is futile.”

Mercedes placed the shoes on Darlene’s feet and laced them tight. Then she produced a shiny stout chain with leather cuffs attached, which she locked onto Darlene’s ankles.

“The chain’s 10 inches long,” Mercedes explained, so you’ll be able to walk just fine, even up and down stairs, as long as you’re careful.  I’ll help you with the stairs.  Just don’t try to hurry anywhere.” She turned to the suitcase again. “Now let’s see, where’s that hood?”

At the word hood Darlene visibly jumped, causing Mercedes to laugh lightly.  Even as Darlene swiveled her head to see what was happening, Mercedes produced a gleaming black rubber hood with contoured, reinforced openings for the eyes and mouth, and small, grommeted openings beneath the nostrils.  Without preamble, Mercedes opened the hood and pulled it smoothly over Darlene’s head.  The heavy-gauge hood settled tightly against Darlene’s face and closed around her head as Mercedes smoothed and placed her hair.  Mercedes paused to lower the zipper on the collar of the straitjacket so that she could fit the long neck of the hood inside of it.  She then pulled at it here and there, smoothing it against Darlene’s features, and slowly pulled the zipper down, causing the hood to closer every more tightly until it finally gripped Darlene’s head like a second skin.  Mercedes smoothed Darlene’s hair down inside the jacket, bending her head forward to allow for give and pull, then re-closed the jacket’s collar.

“Don’t you wish you could run your hands over your head right now?” Mercedes asked, stroking Darlene’s rubberized head with her own hands   “You look fabulous, my slave.  Here, let’s give you a look.”

Mercedes helped Darlene to her feet. Darlene, no stranger to six-inch heels, wobbled only a little before finding her balance in the stilettos, and Mercedes led her over to where a full-length mirror hung on the wall.

“Oh my God,” Darlene breathed when she saw her reflection.  She did, indeed, look fabulous, fabulous like a slave, that is.  She turned this way and that, taking in the full image of her with her arms folded helplessly behind her inside the shining rubber straitjacket, her head covered in brilliant, shiny black rubber. Her eyes and mouth looked, especially her red lips she thought, looked extremely provocative in contrast to the black latex that covered the rest of her face.  And her legs had never looked longer or prettier than they did now in the six-inch plus heels with her ankles tethered by the bright chain.  A few moments ago she feared that she had acted impulsively by agreeing to be belong to Mercedes for the evening.  Now, seeing what she saw and feeling what she felt, she was happy she had taken the plunge.

Darlene saw Mercedes smile over her shoulder, then suddenly Mercedes was placing something around her neck.  Darlene realized quickly what it was- a heavy leather posture collar, nearly four inches in height.  It forced her chin up into a stiff high posture and held her head uncomfortably erect.  She was about to complain when Mercedes stepped in front of her and without warning kissed her.  The dominant’s lips were soft, warm, gently insisting, and Darlene found herself kissing back, until suddenly Mercedes’ mouth pulled away, and Darlene, breathless and slow to respond, felt something large and rubbery push into her mouth.  Her eyes snapped open as Mercedes pulled the rubber strapping around her prisoner’s rubberized head and quickly buckled it very tightly. 

Darlene saw that now her mouth was totally covered by a broad rubber panel.  Protruding from that panel was an air valve, to which Mercedes fastened a rubber tube with an inflating bulb.  She wrapped one long, stiletto-footed leg around Darlene’s legs, holding them in place, and encircled the prisoner’s shoulders with her free arm, then began to squeeze the bulb.  The flaccid rubber form in Darlene’s mouth began to inflate both in width and length, taking on the very realistic shape and texture of an engorged penis as it filled her mouth, spreading her lips and jaws wide and reaching deeper into her mouth. 

Darlene leaned her head back as much as she could, and tried to struggle as the penis gag got bigger and bigger, but she was helpless stop its growth as Mercedes held her head in place and continued to squeeze the ball.  Darlene thought she would choke for real as the shaft expanded toward her throat, but Mercedes stopped squeezing just as that started to happened, and turned the air-release valve minutely, reducing the gag in size just enough to keep it out of Darlene’s throat.  She Just as quickly she re-closed the valve, then unscrewed the hose and replaced it with the valve cap, leaving Darlene’s mouth spread wider and filled more comprehensively than she had thought possible.

“Yell for me,” Mercedes said.  “as loud as you can.”  When Darlene just stared at her, Mercedes reached down and squeezed Darlene’s inner thigh very, very hard.  Darlene’s eyes widened in pain and panic and she tried to scream, but the only noise she could manage was a small high-pitched squeak.

“That will do.”  Mercedes said.  “Just one or two more things.”  She produced several small padlocks, which she deftly snapped onto the gag strap, collar, and the ankle cuffs. “There.  Now no one can free you even if they wanted to, though, they won’t want to. Now, my cute little boy who wants to be a pretty girl slave, let’s go back downstairs and show you off to everyone. And lest you doubt it, you do indeed make a very pretty girl.” She produced a second short chain, which she clipped to the ring at the front of Darlene’s posture collar, and pulled the helpless and quite subdued prisoner along with her. 

The trip down the stairs was a challenge in the six-inch heels and ankle chain, especially with her arms folded up behind her inside the rubber jacket and her vision limited by the small eyeholes in the latex hood.  But with Mercedes holding onto her and providing some support, Darlene made it to the ground floor without tripping, and after a few more moments was moving about fairly smoothly.  Of course, Mercedes kept Darlene’s leash looped around her wrist at all times, so she could only go where Mercedes led her.

Darlene was soon attracting as much attention as Maura, the girl in the corset dress and armbinder. They each collected numerous stares, and “oooh”s and “aaahh”s.  Darlene enjoyed the attention, actually even liked being tugged along gently but firmly on her leash.  The tight compression and caress of the jacket and hood on her body and face as she moved was powerfully erotic.  Her arms quickly became uncomfortable though, folded upward as they were within the confines of the constricting rubber.  She found herself wriggling her fingers frequently to keep the circulation going, but could hardly complain, due the silence enforced on her by the inflated rubber penis that filled and distended her mouth. The hood at least saved her the embarrassment of everyone seeing her blush as she found herself sucking on the latex member with increasing frequency. 

Darlene also found herself growing ever more aroused. Much of this of course was due to the strict bondage, but Mercedes had the most disconcerting habit of lightly stroking the back of Darlene’s thighs as she spoke with other guests.  To make matters worse, some of the guests availed themselves of Mercedes’ prisoner’s helplessness to do the same thing, and Mercedes did nothing to encourage them. 

As the evening progressed, Darlene found herself also being photographed frequently- with Mercedes, with Maura, with assorted guests, and even being posed for photographs by Mercedes.  Darlene didn’t mind, as the latex hood protected her identity.  Her arms were becoming increasingly uncomfortable and distressed in their cramped position, though, and it was hot inside the straitjacket and hood. She also longed to sit down and rest her feet, even for just a few minutes. She had been on her feet for a long time in the six-inch stilettos.  She looked at a wall clock and realized with some amazement that it was midnight.  She had been in her rigorous bonds for over four hours!  Mercedes saw her looking at the clock.

“Oh, my goodness, look at the time.”  Mercedes said.  “I had no idea.  It just goes to prove what they say.  Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Darlene had to agree.  Uncomfortable though she was, she had had no idea at the amount of time that had actually passed. 

“You’ve been such a delightful little slave that I can’t bear to leave you,” Mercedes said.  “I guess there’s no help for it except to take you home with me to San Diego.”

At that, Darlene’s pulse jumped.  She turned her head, no easy task with the posture collar, to stare at Mercedes.  Eyes wide, she grunted the best protest she could manage.  There was no way she could go to San Diego as Mercedes’ slave.  Not tonight, anyway.  Not with someone she’d only met a few hours ago.  She shook her head as well as she could to emphasize the point.  Mercedes just smiled and stroked Darlene’s rubber-encased cheek.

“Ah, my sweet little Slave.” she said.  “That’s the mistake so many of you make, thinking you can declare when you want to submit, then just turn it off when you wish.”  Mercedes tsk tsk’d.  “It just doesn’t work that way, my sweet.  You gave yourself to me, and you are mine.  Until I say otherwise.”

Darlene tried to remind Mercedes that the arrangement had been specifically for the evening only.  Bound and gagged as she was, though, she found it impossible to produce any argument other than head shaking. grunting, and stamping her feet, all of which she soon gave up due to the difficulty she had doing them and the discomfort they caused.  Finally she just stood, defeated, and did her best to plead with her eyes, which was just as ineffective.

Mercedes guided Darlene back to the stairway, where she looped the leash around a newel post and clipped it in place.

“I’ll be right back. Now don’t go away.  I need to find Ruth.” she said, and disappeared into the living room.  She was gone for several moments, then reappeared, stopping just long enough to step in close and stroke Darlene’s thighs again while kissing her gently on, of all places, her eyes, before exiting the house. Darlene stood helplessly, tethered to the stairway like a pony to a hitching post, until Mercedes returned, this time from the back of the house.

“Come along now,” she said in a very business-like tone.  Removing the leash from the post, she strode through the house, Darlene almost trotting to keep up, right out through the back door onto a large patio.  Darlene saw now that the driveway actually curled around to the back of the house adjacent to the patio, and well out of sight of the street.  As she breathed in and out rapidly through her nostrils-the gag made it almost impossible to breathe through her mouth-Darlene saw with dismay a beautiful new Cadillac sedan sitting next to the patio, with its trunk open.

Without discussion then, and with several guests watching delightedly, Mercedes led Darlene to the rear of the car and stood her against the back bumper. Pulling Darlene’s legs together, Mercedes strapped them together above and below the knee.  Producing the key to the little padlocks, she removed the hobble chain Darlene had worn all evening, and replaced it with another leather strap, sealing the ankles together.

Mercedes looked closely into Darlene’s eyes, frowning and running her hands over the taut latex covering her face. She shook her head.
“Darlene, I know you can’t make much noise now, but just to be sure……” she opened the rear door of the car and reached into the back seat, where she had put her small suitcase.  When she returned to Darlene she was holding a second black rubber hood. 

“I just need to make sure you are as silent as possible.”  As Darlene’s eyes widened in shock, Mercedes quickly and efficiently pulled the second hood, which had no eyes at all and only very small nostril holes and a small hole for the gag’s air valve, over Darlene’s head.  Making sure to line the holes up properly, Mercedes guided the interior breathing tubes through the first hood into Darlene’s nostrils, and pulled the second, heavier hood over the first one. Once the hood enveloped Darlene’s head to Mercedes’ satisfaction, she unlocked and removed the posture collar and zipped the second hood into place, plunging Darlene into pitch darkness and increasing the compression on her head and face. Again the straitjacket was unzipped just enough to allow the second hood to be tucked in, then re-zipped.  The posture collar went back around Darlene’s neck and was buckled tightly.

“There now,” Mercedes said, her velvety voice again sounding like nothing so much as the contented purr of a jungle cat, “I think that should do it. Let’s fold you inside.”

Ruth appeared, and between them she and Mercedes, ignoring Darlene’s frantic, muffled grunts of protest, folded her first inward, then backward, and finally onto her stomach inside the trunk.  A blanket had already been laid out, and a pillow for the captive’s head. Desperate groans were the extent of Darlene’s resistance as her feet were pulled back and strapped down so that her heels were indented into her thighs.  She was maneuvered onto her side and additional straps went across her body, securing her to the floor of the trunk.  A final check to make sure she was breathing satisfactorily, if unhappily, and the trunk was closed.  Darlene could barely hear the startup of the smooth engine, but clearly felt the car back down, out of the driveway onto the street, then pull away.

- - - - -

That had been, how long ago?  Darlene had no idea, but it had been a long time. Time had stopped for her. She could see nothing, hear nothing, move nothing. She could have been in the trunk for two hours or ten. She knew nothing but the relentless pressure of her bonds, of the gag that invaded her mouth. All she knew was the car’s movement.  She was hardly even aware that she sucked the rubber phallus, and ran her tongue over it, almost constantly.  She had no idea what was about to become of her. The car slowed, as it had several times before, turned, sped up again, slowed, turned, went up an incline, turned again, then stopped.

Suddenly there was the feel of cool air on her legs.  It felt heavenly. Hands worked at the straps pinning her to the floor, then the ones holding her legs folded.  With great care, it seemed, her legs were maneuvered around until she could feel them dangling over the lip of the trunk.  Thank God, she thought.  They had reached San Diego.  No matter what awaited her there, at least she was getting out of that trunk. 

The straps holding her legs together were released and she was helped to stand.  She realized belatedly that there were two, no, more than two, pair of hands helping her, steadying her.  She was guided along a walkway, into a house, and finally, wonderfully, onto a chair. Fingers worked at the collar, then the zipper of the straitjacket.  The outer hood was worked gently off her head and finally she could see again.  The shock of seeing where she was would have caused her to squeal, if she had been able.  It did bring tears to her eyes.  She was sitting in Ruth’s kitchen.

A now very solicitous Mercedes and others helped Darlene out of all of her bonds and provided soothing massages to her cramped body, legs and arms.  She found out she had been in the trunk of the car for all of about thirty minutes, and had never left the immediate area.  Mercedes, her dominator, was especially solicitous, and flabbergasted when she found out that Darlene had never experienced anything like it before.

“Oh my God!” Mercedes said. “I never imagined—the way you took to everything, I thought you were more experienced!  Otherwise I would never…” Darlene waved her off. It occurred to her that she ought to be mad, but dismissed that choice in favor of a sense of warmth and appreciation at the amazing bondage experience she had been given, as well as the new friends she had made.  She hugged Mercedes close to her.

“I’m so glad you did, though.” Darlene said.  “It was wonderful, even if it did get a little scary when we got to the car part. It was the most amazing experience of my life.  I wish I could do it again.” Mercedes just smiled, and said nothing.

Some time later, dressed in her own clothes again, exhausted and ready, though reluctantly, to head home, Darlene got into her car.  She was carrying a collection of names and phone numbers of her new friends, and had given hers out freely. As she was starting the engine she heard high heels tapping on the street.  It was Mercedes.  Darlene opened the door and they hugged again, then to Darlene’s surprise, Mercedes kissed her very softly. 

“Just remember one thing,” Mercedes said in her soft purring voice.  The next time it won’t be just a game.  And it won’t be for just one night.”

Mercedes turned and walked back to the house.  After a moment, Darlene pulled the car away and headed home.  She wasn’t quite the same person she had been a few hours earlier, and she had a smile on her face.



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