Part 17
After the breath
Astrid’s drive home was luckily uneventful, apart from some drivers at a red light who ogled her black and faceless form behind her wheel. She just focussed on looking straight ahead. She dashed from the parking lot to her apartment, as quick as the suit allowed. Astrid’s apartment - a modest, two-bedroom unit - became her entire world for the week, and even navigating its familiar spaces felt alien under the suit’s constraints.
By midday on the first day, Astrid was drenched. She had tried to counter the suit’s heat by turning her air conditioning to its coldest setting and positioning fans around her living room. Yet, the rubber’s insulating properties rendered her efforts futile. The air inside the suit grew humid and stifling, and the constant trickle of sweat pooling in the gloves and boots was impossible to ignore. Her fingers felt waterlogged, slipping within the slick gloves as she struggled to grip a coffee cup without spilling. She didn’t wear the hood, as that was luckily not necessary.
Sitting down offered no reprieve. The suit’s tightness around her thighs and midsection made every position uncomfortable after only a few minutes. Lying down was marginally better, but the rubber stuck to her skin in awkward places, forcing her to shift frequently. Astrid quickly realized that the suit was an all-encompassing challenge - not just to her body, but to her patience and resolve.
The rules of her penance allowed for breaks, as of the 168 hours in a week, only 100 needed to be wearing the suit. Astrid was permitted to remove the suit to clean it and herself, and to take a break from it. These moments became the highlights of her day. Stripping off the sweat-soaked suit was an ordeal in itself, the thick latex clinging stubbornly to her damp skin. She would peel it away slowly, gasping as cool air hit her overheated body.
The inside of the suit glistened with sweat, and she’d carry it to her bathroom to rinse it thoroughly under the shower. The rubber’s smooth surface became slippery under the water, making it difficult to hold steady as she scrubbed away the salty residue. After hanging it up to dry, she’d take a few precious minutes to shower and cool down, relishing the feel of water on her bare skin.
But the clock was always ticking. Astrid had to remain vigilant, knowing that each moment out of the suit cut into her total hours. Falling behind risked missing her 100-hour target, and the thought of failing and being sent to Abyss’ needle frame kept her focused. More than once, she caught herself nodding off after cleaning the suit, jolting awake with a start and scrambling to redress before too much time had passed.
Everyday tasks became monumental challenges. Cooking was out of the question - the thought of standing over a hot stove while encased in the rubber suit was unbearable. Instead, Astrid subsisted on cold meals and snacks, her appetite diminished by the oppressive heat. Cleaning her apartment proved equally arduous; even mild exertion left her drenched in sweat, the suit’s rubbery interior growing ever slicker with each movement.
Astrid spent much of her time working from home, her laptop positioned in front of a fan. Typing in the rubber gloves was clumsy at best, the slickness inside making her fingers slip on the keys. Concentration was a constant struggle, her thoughts often consumed by the discomfort of the suit and the trickling sensation of sweat running down her back and legs. She knew, somewhere Teodora would be fingering herself each night thinking of this suit and her predicament. On her first two evenings in the suit, she did the same, the pressure of her fingers spread out over her most sensitive area by the thick rubber.
Sleeping in it was nearly impossible. She drank a lot to keep up her hydration under the sweating. On the first night in it, she removed it in frustration. She was allowed to remove the suit overnight, any time actually, the temptation to stay out of it longer than necessary was strong. On the third night, she overslept by an hour, and the panic of potentially failing her penance left her shaken. From then on, she set multiple alarms to ensure she’d wake in time to don the suit and continue her hours.
By the fifth day, Astrid’s resolve began to crack. Her body ached from the constant strain of sweating and moving against the resistant material. Her skin felt raw in places where the suit rubbed most, and the slick, rubbery interior had become an almost living presence, constantly reminding her of its dominance. Yet, she pressed on, knowing that giving up wasn’t an option. Her masturbation has stopped, as it left her too tired and added to her sweating.
The final hours of her penance were the hardest. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, her limbs trembling as she paced her apartment to keep herself awake and alert. Every minute stretched endlessly, the clock seeming to tick slower with each passing second. But when the LED finally turned green, signaling the end of her 100th hour, Astrid collapsed onto her couch in relief, the suit’s grip on her body finally released.
Stripping off the suit for the this time was both a physical and emotional release. Astrid stood in her bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was sweaty, her skin flushed, and her body felt lighter than it had in days. Despite the ordeal, a small, bitter smile crept across her lips. She had endured.
Evelyn’s words from the duel echoed in her mind: "Let this be a lesson in the cost of pride." The week had been a humbling experience, a reminder of the power and ruthlessness of Abyss.
As she dried the suit and tucked it away, Astrid made a silent vow: if she ever stepped onto Evelyn’s stage again, it would be with the strength and determination to win - no matter the stakes. When she returned to Abyss, dressed one final time in her oppressive suit, the audience greeted her with a mix of admiration and amusement. But she knew tonight she wouldn’t be the center of attention, as apparently some big showdown duel with the Hostess Evelyn herself was on the agenda.