Part 40
Enduring
Somewhere in the city, Nadia sat on the edge of her bed, her breathing shallow as she stared at the glossy black suit laid out before her. The rubber shimmered under the dim light of her bedroom, a cruel reminder of her penance. Five weeks of relentless confinement had left her utterly drained, her mind and body struggling to endure the suffocating embrace of the Rubber Suit of Resolve.
Her logbook, open on the nightstand, bore meticulous entries of her hours in the suit. Each line recorded with trembling hands, ensuring there was no room for error.
Saturday, 23 hours complete.
Sunday, 23 hours complete.
Monday, 14 hours complete.
Tuesday, 13 hours complete.
Wednesday, 13 hours complete.
Thursday, 12 hours complete, lots of traffic.
Friday, 14 hours complete.
One hundred and twelve hours before Saturday started. Not one too many.
She couldn’t risk falling short - Evelyn had made it abundantly clear what failure meant. For six weeks, each week one full day in the needle frame, totaling six days of unyielding torment, each lasting 24 hours. The mere thought sent a shiver down her spine, despite the heat that seemed to cling to her perpetually now.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for the suit. The material felt slick and cool against her hands, but she knew that sensation wouldn’t last. Once on, the suit would trap her body heat, turning her skin clammy and slick within minutes. She hesitated only a moment before stepping into the tight rubber, her feet sliding into the boot-like extensions. She pulled it up her legs, the material clinging to her with a resistance that felt almost alive. The tightness around her hips and waist forced her to exhale sharply as she zipped it closed.
The hood was the final piece. As it slid over her head, sealing her inside the rubber cocoon, the LED lightening up in RED, her world grew smaller. The faint smell of latex filled her nostrils, and her breaths felt shallow and warm within the confined space. With a resigned sigh, she reached for her phone to start the timer: 23 hours to go.
Nadia’s weekends had become the most grueling part of her penance. The 23-hour stretches of rubberization left her with only a single hour of freedom each day - barely enough time to shower, clean the suit, and log her progress. The rest of the time was spent in an unrelenting cycle of discomfort.
By midmorning on Saturday, the suit had become a furnace. Sweat pooled at the base of her gloves and boots, the rubber refusing to let a single drop escape. Her plastic lenses were fogged up, her hair plastered wet against her skull under the thick rubber hood. She went to take another cold shower, the cold water running over her rubber suit. Her movements felt sluggish, the slickness inside making it difficult to maintain her balance as she paced her apartment. She tried sitting, but the tightness around her midsection made it unbearable after a few minutes. Lying down brought only slight relief, though the heat seemed to press down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
The chastity belt beneath the suit added another layer of torment. Its unyielding presence gnawed at her, amplifying her frustration with every passing hour. The thought of relief, even momentary, felt like a cruel joke. Nadia clenched her fists, trying to suppress the wave of unfulfilled desire that rose within her. Her weekends, once a time to recharge, had become a living nightmare.
She glanced at the clock. Four hours down. Nineteen to go. The enormity of the remaining time made her throat tighten, and she bit back a sob.
By the evening, the suit had become a second skin, every movement amplifying the friction between her body and the slick interior. Her muscles ached from the constant tension, her body desperate for relief. She tried distracting herself with TV, but the heat and tightness made it impossible to focus. When she finally slipped the suit off for her one-hour break, her skin was flushed and raw, the cool air feeling almost painful against her overheated body.
Sunday began the same as Saturday, stripping off the suit, a quick cold and then hot shower. Rinsing the sweat out of the suit, turning it inside out and toweling it dry. A glance to the clock. With a resigning moan Nadia meticulously sliding into the damp suit again and logging her start time.
She had developed small rituals to help her endure the endless hours. She paced her apartment methodically, counting her steps in sets of a hundred to pass the time. She played music, letting the rhythm guide her movements, though even the upbeat songs couldn’t lift her spirits entirely.
Water breaks became her only reprieve. She had placed bottles strategically around her apartment, allowing her to hydrate without removing the suit. The act of drinking was a challenge in itself, the tight hood forcing her to tilt her head at awkward angles. But the water did little to alleviate the oppressive heat building inside the suit.
By midafternoon, she found herself staring at the needle frame in her mind’s eye. The threat of failure loomed over her constantly, a cruel motivator that kept her from collapsing entirely. "Six days of torment or one more week of this," she reminded herself. The choice was clear, but it didn’t make the ordeal any easier. Her isolation deepened as the hours wore on. The constant reminders of her chastity and the suit’s oppressive grip left her longing for even the smallest reprieve. But she knew better than to hope - this was her reality, and no amount of wishing could change it.
As the fifth week drew to a close, Nadia’s dread for the final week consumed her thoughts. She had barely survived this far, and the knowledge that she had another six days of 112 hours left to endure felt insurmountable. Her body was breaking down, the constant heat and pressure leaving her exhausted and irritable. Even small tasks, like washing the suit during her one-hour break, felt monumental.
Her logbook had become her lifeline, each entry a small victory. She double-checked her hours obsessively, ensuring she wouldn’t fall short. Failure was not an option. Yet, the thought of another weekend trapped in the suit made her stomach churn.
Nadia hated the smug satisfaction Elise and Evelyn must have felt as she watched her struggle. But beneath the anger was a flicker of determination. She had made it this far. She couldn’t give up now.
Monday morning night arrived. As the alarm sounded, she let out a shaky breath, unzipping the suit with trembling hands and heading for the shower. The cool air hit her overheated skin, and she gasped, tears streaming down her face from the sheer relief. She stumbled into the shower, letting the water wash away the sweat and tension of the night.
She hung the suit to dry and left for work, only to don the suit again upon her return. She hoped she would not get stuck in traffic. Her body ached, her mind felt numb, but she had survived another weekend, a languished shell of herself. She even was not as sexually desperate as before the suit. With her mind a bit clearer, she had texted Alexandru, asked to meet. Alone. She needed answers. Tomorrow she would see him.
Later in the afternoon, back in her bedroom, she picked up her logbook and carefully recorded the day’s completion. Five weeks down. One to go.
She went to the bathroom and stared at the suit hanging in the shower, its glossy surface gleaming in the dim light. The thought of putting it back on made her stomach turn, but she knew she had no choice. The needle frame was not an option. With a resigned sigh, she closed the logbook. Ten minutes later, fully enclosed in heavy rubber once more, she crawled into bed, her dreams haunted by the endless hours of feeling the warm and slick rubber on her skin still ahead.