Chapter 2
The room inside Abyss was charged with a palpable tension as patrons gathered near the stage, the usual thrum of the club’s bass infused with a sense of impending drama. At the center of it all were Nadia and Elise, both standing in the spotlight, their faces etched with determination and a hint of trepidation. The infamous Heels of Infernal Spires, with their transparent platforms exposing blunt but cruel spikes, which were permanently extended, had been strapped securely to their bare feet. Every patron present knew that this duel would not be for the faint-hearted.
Evelyn stood between them, her voice smooth and commanding as she addressed the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we witness a clash of resilience and determination. An old rivalry being revisited. On one side, Nadia - a woman fighting for a taste of freedom and the right to shed her restraints of indefinite chastity, even if for a fleeting moment, achieving twelve nights over the next year of sexual relief. On the other, Elise - elegant, unyielding, and determined to ensure her victory, lest she herself faces a full mind-flaying month in the Rubber Coffin. If she wins there won’t be any orgasm for her opponent but instead a rubber suit to be worn sixteen hours a day for the year. This will be a duel of the soles to remember." She paused for effect, her sharp eyes scanning the audience. "The rules are simple: ten minutes of unrelenting rhythm. Each step will be paid in pain, hesitation will be met with consequences, but only one will emerge victorious. Both ladies, veterans in Abyss, are facing their very individual and dramatic rubber forfeits. Let the duel begin."
The music started with a steady beat, deceptively easy, giving both contestants a chance to settle into their movements. Nadia’s heart raced as she fell into the rhythm, each step sending a dull ache through her feet as the fixed spikes pressed against her soles. She focused on maintaining her balance, her body swaying gracefully to the music. Across from her, Elise moved with an almost regal confidence, her movements sharp and deliberate. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, betraying the strain she was already feeling.
As the tempo increased, the stakes became evident. The cruel design of the heels ensured that every step would result in a punishing jab. Nadia’s muscles screamed in protest as she fought to keep her steps precise, the pain building with each beat. Her breathing grew ragged, but she refused to falter. She couldn’t let Elise win - not when so much was on the line. Her belt had been locked on her for three years.
Three years, with not a single orgasm. She wanted this. No, she needed this. She just needed to ignore her feet being on fire.
Elise, meanwhile, was gritting her teeth, her determination etched into every line of her face. The spikes beneath her soles were relentless, but her determination was stronger. She was adamant not to lose, the thought of spending a month in the Rubber Coffin driving her movements. The thought of latex enclosure for herself was revolting enough to ignore the pain. Every step was a testament to her willpower, even as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. She was willing to shred her soles, she would not give in. She had dulled the pain, she would prevail. Her body ached, her legs trembling under the strain, but she pushed herself harder, refusing to show weakness.
The music shifted again, the rhythm becoming more complex and erratic. Both women’s faces twisted in pain as they struggled to keep up. Nadia stumbled slightly, the spikes digging into her soles as she quickly recovered her footing. Her eyes met Elise’s for a brief moment, and she saw the fire burning in her opponent’s gaze. Elise was determined to break her, to see her rubberized and confined for an entire year. It was a look that sent a shiver down Nadia’s spine, fueling her resolve.
But Elise wasn’t unscathed. Her movements became less fluid, her breathing labored as the song’s intensity reached its peak. The spikes still felt like fire beneath her feet, each step a test of her endurance. She screamed in pain as the tempo demanded quicker, sharper movements, but she didn’t stop at her breaking point. Her mind latched onto the thought of victory, of seeing Nadia defeated and encased in the Rubber Suit of Permanence. That’s what she wanted, to turn her rival into a rubber slave, after having sent her into indefinite chastity already. It was enough to keep her going, even as her vision blurred with tears.
The final stretch of the song was a relentless barrage of beats, the rhythm almost impossible to follow. Nadia’s body felt like it was on the verge of collapse, every muscle screaming for relief. She faltered again, the spikes biting cruelly into her sensitive soles, but she forced herself to keep moving. Her thoughts were a jumble of pain and determination, the promise of orgasm driving her forward. Her dance had become sluggish, elegance evaporated.
Elise’s resolve, however, was unshakable. She powered through the agony, her movements fueled by sheer will. Her screams echoed through the room as she danced, but she never missed a beat. One more scream, as much of pain as of determination, pulling in all her strength from her core for a final move to sway the audience. The audience watched in awe as she pushed herself beyond her limits, her elegance giving way to raw, unyielding resilience, pirouetting around her axis, as if there were no spikes to harass her soles.
When the final note rang out, both women collapsed to the floor, their bodies trembling with exhaustion. The room was silent for a moment, the crowd holding their breath as Evelyn stepped forward. Her smile was sharp, her voice ringing out over the stillness. The outcome was very clear after Elise’s final pirouettes while Nadia was slugging along. The applause started, thundered for Elise, but was meek for Nadia .
"The winner of tonight’s duel is… Elise."
A mixture of applause and murmurs filled the room as the announcement sank in. Nadia’s head dropped, her body too drained to protest. She sank further, laying flat on the floor, to finally take all weight off the spikes. She shook her head in disbelief. This cannot be happening. She had given everything, but it hadn’t been enough. Evelyn’s attendants moved swiftly, helping her back up on her feet.
"You have been promised a spectacular rubber forfeit for the loser. Abyss will deliver. Nadia," Evelyn said, her tone almost gentle. "You fought valiantly, but as you agreed, Elise’s rules for your renewed rubberization come into effect now and the Rubber Suit of Permanence awaits you immediately. Sixteen hours a day, for one year."
Elise, despite her exhaustion, managed a small, triumphant smile. Her body ached, her feet felt like they were on fire, but she had won. She had ensured that Nadia would endure the very fate she had so desperately tried to avoid for so long. And for Elise, that victory made every agonizing step worth it.
The verdict had been given. She had lost. The moment Evelyn announced it, something inside Nadia shattered quietly. Her breath hitched. The lights of Abyss seemed colder, harder. As if the club itself had turned its gaze on her, unblinking, pitiless. After Nadia’s original six weeks in the Rubber Suit of Resolve, she could still not believe that now she will have to endure rubber again, and now for such a ridiculous duration. One year, sixteen hours a day, how would she even endure that?
One year.
Sixteen hours a day.
Her legs trembled as she stepped down from the stage. Her face felt like ice. The crowd was already turning back to their drinks, their whispers fading into the ever-present hum of the club’s ambiance, but for Nadia, the world had narrowed into a suffocating tunnel.
Oh god.
Not that much latex.
Her mind reeled, trying to grasp what this meant. Every day. Every hour. Enclosed. Encased. Smothered in rubber while pretending to function like a normal person. At work. On the train. In the grocery store. The suit would never fully disappear - its grip would cling to her skin, a second suffocating layer.
God, no.
Not just the heat, the sweat, the slipperiness. But the symbolism. The helplessness. The reminder that she had been beaten again. That Elise had found a way to pull her back under. She thought she’d been free. She had been standing on the edge of finding relief. And now the walls had closed around her again.
Please, no. No!
"Nadia," Evelyn had said softly, too softly. "You’ll receive the suit now. An attendant will guide you in how to wear it properly, how to clean and take care of it. You will log your hours, and I trust you will not need reminders."
Nadia nodded blankly.
How can I even endure that?
It was too much. A year was endless. A rubber year? It felt like a trapdoor opening beneath her.
She pressed her fingers to her face, barely feeling her own touch. Her palms were clammy and cold, her pulse unsteady.
God, a year. Every single day.
The thought tightened around her like a coil.
And Elise… She had smiled. That same quiet, gleaming smile she always wore when she won. As if nothing ever touched her. As if Nadia was already beneath her heels again.
Nadia wanted to scream, to shout that this wasn’t fair. But she had accepted the stakes. Stepped onto the stage. For twelve orgasms she would now not have.
She swallowed hard, fighting the rising panic, the tears threatening to well.
I can't. I can't. Not again.
But she would. Because now she had to. She started crying.
Ana stood in the marble-floored corridor just outside Evelyn's office, her breath measured, fingers twitching at her sides like they were itching for something to hold onto - a hand, a railing, a leash. She had rehearsed her words. Many times.
She had thought she could forget, but her body remembered. Every edge. Every denial. Every tremble just before bliss that never came. Those two locked years had marked her. And the months since she had been free had not washed it clean.
When the assistant waved her in, she stepped into the inner sanctum. Not the Inner Sanctum, not the place of tongues and latex horror, but Evelyn's own lair of sharp furniture and darker thoughts.
Evelyn didn’t look up immediately. She was finishing a note in that scriptlike hand of hers, the kind that hinted at education older than anyone had a right to still possess. Then: "Ana. I wondered when you'd stop watching from the sidelines and walk back through the door."
"I never stopped thinking about it," Ana said. "You knew I wouldn't."
Evelyn smiled faintly. "Of course I did. Sit. So you have changed your mind already? Did Nadia’s performance help you to seek your own thrill again?" she said, offering the seat to her.
She was flushed, annoyed, determined. "Not exactly. Her fate is so harsh, enclosed in latex for so long. But, I’ve been thinking. About what you said. About stakes. The Sanctum. What it takes."
"And you’ve come to beg for an easy challenge? Not a good time, Ana, you have just witnessed a woman being sentenced to a year in latex."
Ana was silent for a minute, shifting nervously in her seat. The chair was angular, unforgiving. It made her straighten, made her feel examined. And Evelyn did examine. Her eyes were always calculating, not unkind, but precise. Evelyn saw past words.
"How long has it been since you came freely?" Evelyn asked, her voice low and neutral.
Ana hesitated. "Two days ago."
"And how did it feel?"
Ana looked down at her hands. "Like swallowing lukewarm tea."
"Not bitter, not sweet. Just… disappointing."
She nodded.
Evelyn leaned back. "And so, here we are again. You wish to submit?"
Ana's throat worked. She wasn't sure she could say the word. So she offered instead: "I want to feel again." Evelyn waited. Always waiting. Letting silence do the work. Ana broke it first.
"I thought of it constantly. The Inner Sanctum. That night. I thought I'd earned it, that I'd tasted what was promised after all that restraint. But then you locked it away from me. You gave me the frame. The pain. The longing."
"And you never forgot it," Evelyn said.
"No. I remember the tongues. The… way they circled me. The way they made me scream and beg without words. It wasn't just arousal. It was something more. Like being touched by something… not human. Divine. Or demonic."
Evelyn's smile was secretive now. "Yes. We all have our ghosts. Some are pleasures so sharp they cut the soul."
"I want to try again," Ana said. "I’ll take the risk. Even if it’s the needle frame again. Even if I never come with them. I need the chance."
Evelyn stood and moved to the sideboard, pouring tea that neither of them would drink. It was a ritual. A rhythm. "Do you think you can just ask for the Sanctum?" Evelyn said. "You think it opens for the willing?" "I think it opens for the broken. For the worthy."
Evelyn turned. "And you think you're broken enough now?"
Ana hesitated. "I know I miss it enough."
Evelyn studied her, then set the untouched tea down.
"Desire like yours burns. But fire without fuel dies quickly. The Sanctum isn’t about indulgence, Ana. It's about culmination. Finality. The edge is only exquisite if it means something. You only trembled that night because you were bound in steel before. And because you feared what might follow."
"I remember," Ana whispered.
"Then remember this: the tongues are not for the hungry. They are for the starved. And you are not starving. Not yet." Ana's fingers curled. "Then make me."
Evelyn arched a brow. "You want it that badly?"
"More than anything."
"Why?"
Ana didn’t answer immediately. She stood, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes cast down - not in submission, but in deep frustration. "Because I don’t feel anything anymore," she said finally, her voice brittle. "Not out here. Not with my own hands. I waited, suffered, obeyed - but that night in the Sanctum… it ruined me for anything else. Everything else is just noise now. I know it’s irrational. I know I should be able to wait. But the memory of their tongues - what they took from me without ever giving - it’s inside me like a splinter. I’d rather risk agony again than keep walking through this grey, dry fog, pretending climax means anything." She looked up. "I’m not asking for shortcuts. I’m asking for another chance to feel like I did that night."
"Then hear me clearly," Evelyn said, coming to stand before her. "One year. In chastity. Absolute. No cheating. No releases. No stimulation, no edging. No relief."
Ana's breath caught.
Evelyn continued. "Then, and only then, will you be eligible. Not guaranteed. Not promised. But allowed to challenge for the Sanctum again."
Ana swallowed. "And the challenge?"
"Could be the needle frame. Could be worse. And afterwards? Another year. Same terms. No release. Whether you win or lose."
Ana blinked. "So even if I endure, even if I reach it…"
"You won't be allowed to satisfy yourself after a night of edges. You stay unfulfilled, that’s the true weight of the edges of the sanctum, you don’t come again afterwards," Evelyn said. "If you win, I can’t have you running home to your vibrator after those edges. No, they will linger for a second year. That’s what gives it weight. It’s meaningless if you could satisfy yourself just afterwards. That’s what makes it more than just indulgence. You want it to feel like divinity? Then you must be a supplicant. And stay one."
Ana felt something deep inside her quake. Not fear. Not quite. Something closer to awe. The kind of awe that made one fall to their knees.
"You have the key to your life now," Evelyn said. "You're free. Entirely. You completed your chastity contract. But the Sanctum - it isn't for the free. It's for those who surrender everything."
"Would you accept?" Ana asked, her voice hushed.
Evelyn didn’t answer directly. She leaned in, lips near Ana's ear.
"Come back when you are truly ready. To be locked. Controlled. Empty. Starving. Then ask again." Then she turned and left Ana sitting there, the weight of her hunger sinking deeper into her spine.
And Ana? She didn't move for a long time. She sat. And considered. And felt the faint pulse between her thighs, already mourning the possible denial. But in her mind - wet, vivid, impossible - she remembered the tongues. The endless edge. And knew she might say yes, given enough time.
Nadia sat on the edge of her bed, the weight of the latex suit pressing into her skin like a reminder she couldn’t shake. She stared out the window of her apartment, the late afternoon light casting long golden stripes across the floor. It had been such a reckless decision. Orgasms. That was all she had wanted. One moment of release after years of denial, and she had gambled for it with the kind of desperation that made her forget who she was dealing with. Elise had been more than happy to offer a wager, and Nadia had been foolish enough to agree. And Elise hadn’t backed down after she had thrown the Rubber Coffin for Elise into the ring. Now, the forfeit was in effect: sixteen hours per day in latex for a full year. Under Elise’s rubberization rules, even this baseline condition was punishing.
She had thought she could maybe wiggle out of it, talk to Evelyn, appeal for leniency. But the membership contract she’d signed left no room for mercy. It had been airtight. Consent, recorded. Terms, locked. Elise had known exactly what she was doing when she proposed the forfeit. And now Nadia was stuck in the aftermath of a choice made without foresight, trying to rationalize why she had thought twelve orgasms were worth a full year of rubber penance.
Three months had passed since Nadia’s defeat at Abyss, and her life had become a series of daily battles - not against pain, but against discomfort, humiliation, and the ever-present reminder of her loss. The Rubber Suit of Permanence clung to her skin every day, its sleek and suffocating material hidden beneath layers of clothing. It was light enough not to hinder her movements, but its effect was anything but negligible. It was light enough, with the absence of a hood, gloves and socks to be not nearly as demanding, but it was a slow battle of attrition.
The suit was designed for long-term wear, yet it was sweat-inducing over these long durations. On cooler days, Nadia could almost convince herself that it was manageable, almost comfortable. She admitted she always had a thing for latex, but this was beyond pushing her desires for it. But as spring gave way to summer, the rising temperatures turned her existence into a relentless struggle. A heatwave that struck the city that week was unforgiving. Her morning routine was a careful orchestration of attempts to minimize the telltale signs: multiple showers, antiperspirants, clothings strategically chosen. Yet, no amount of preparation could stop the inevitable. The suit was pristine, no signs of wear, no scratch, no rips. It was always like brand new. It seemed to possess the same strangeness as her belt with its pad.
One particularly warm afternoon, she found herself walking through the crowded streets of downtown. She wore a pair of dark jeans and a fitted thin turtlenecked t-shirt, thinking the dark fabric would help disguise the suit. On her feet were simple open-toe high-heeled sandals, chosen in desperation to provide some relief to her constantly overheated body. The bustling streets only exacerbated her misery, the rubber beneath her clothing turning into a slick second skin, sliding over her skin, massaging her, with every step. Sweat collected along her back and crotch, trickling down in rivulets that eventually soaked through the rubber suit’s zipper and into the fabric of her turtleneck. Her jeans clung to her thighs, darkened at the seams below her apex, a visible wet stain formed at her crotch. Her feet, bare and exposed by the sandals, glistened wetly as sweat found its way over her toes and dripped onto the sidewalk.
Passersby glanced at her with curiosity and mild amusement. "She must be roasting in that," a man muttered to his friend as they passed by. A woman’s voice followed: "Why would anyone wear a turtleneck in this weather?" Nadia’s cheeks burned with embarrassment, though she kept her head high and her pace steady. But as droplets fell from her fingertips, forming small pools on the pavement, she caught the words she dreaded most: "Her face is flushed, she’s soaked! Is she okay?"
The humiliation weighed heavier than the heat. Each comment felt like a spotlight shining directly on her, amplifying the sense of exposure she thought she had hidden so carefully. Yet, there was no escape. She had committed to her fate, and the suit was a part of her now, as unyielding as the belt she still wore beneath it all.
Another two months later, somewhere across the city, Elise and Alexandru sat comfortably at a corner table in a chic café, enjoying the air conditioning and the smug satisfaction of their recent triumphs. Elise swirled her iced coffee idly, her glossy nails clicking against the glass as she spoke. "She’s managing better than I expected," she said with a hint of amusement. "Though ‘managing’ might be too generous a word. Did you hear about last week?"
Alexandru raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What happened?"
"She was at the supermarket," Elise said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Apparently, the suit was so wet that she left drop after drop on the floor of the produce section. Some kind stranger gave her a bottle of water. Can you imagine? A stranger offering sympathy, completely unaware of what she’s really enduring."
Alexandru chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "It’s remarkable how she’s adapting, though. Most people would have cracked by now. But not Nadia."
Elise nodded. "That’s what makes it so delicious. She’s fighting so hard to maintain her dignity, but every step she takes is a reminder of her place. She’s fighting to not be found out as the latex pet I turned her into. And let’s not forget - she agreed to this."
"With a little persuasion," Alexandru added, smirking.
Elise sipped her coffee, savoring the cool liquid. "She tried to take you from me. Her chastity belt is not enough. I want her in as much rubber for as long as possible. Rubberization Rules, I’ll make her understand what that means. The audacity to demand the coffin as my forfeit. She will pay. She’s in for a surprise if she thinks this year is all there is. I wonder if she’s thought about what’s next. She still has months to go, and every day is only going to get hotter. By the time summer peaks, she’ll be desperate." She paused, her expression turning contemplative. "Maybe we should pay her a visit. A little reminder that we’re keeping tabs on her."
Alexandru’s smile widened. "I like the way you think."
Ana returned to the same cold chair in Evelyn’s office, the corridor no less marble-lined, her stomach no less tight. She’d thought the matter settled after their last talk, thought the decision had begun to settle into her bones. A year. One year, locked. One challenge. Another year locked, regardless of outcome. The thought had festered in her, grown teeth. It was too harsh. She had stalled. Waited. Delayed. But it didn’t let her rest. Now she was back, but not to yield, but with a plan.
Evelyn didn’t look surprised.
"Changed your mind finally? I almost was convinced by now you would not come back to this deal. Is your freedom too boring for you?" she said, not even offering the seat this time.
Ana sat anyway. She was flushed, annoyed, determined. "I’ve been thinking. I convinced myself to say no for so long now. But… about what you said. About stakes. The Sanctum. What it takes."
"And you’ve come to accept a year in chastity for a chance to visit the Inner Sanctum?."
"Not to accept. Negotiate. I understand this place is built on challenge. On risk and pain and… structure. So I’m not asking to skip it. But I want to change the game. Or at least who writes the rules."
Evelyn finally looked intrigued. She turned her chair and leaned forward.
"You want to challenge… the terms?"
Ana nodded. "Yes. I don’t want to accept your terms for the Sanctum trial. I want the chance to earn different terms." "Bold," Evelyn said. "Dangerous. Possibly foolish."
"You said it yourself. Fire without fuel dies. I’ve been cold too long."
"So, what would this… pre-challenge entail?"
Ana exhaled. "I want a chance to earn my own conditions. If I win, I get the terms I choose for the Sanctum challenge." Evelyn smiled, sharp and slow. "And what are those?"
"No chastity beforehand. No chastity afterwards. One night in the Sanctum - eight hours. If I lose that challenge, it’s the needle frame for me. The same duration. No toe needles."
Evelyn laughed. Not cruelly. But genuinely entertained. "So you want to edge on divine tongues with no restraint before or after? Just pleasure, unfettered?"
Ana met her eyes. "I want to feel again. That night changed me. I’m not ashamed to say I want more."
"And if you win this duel-for-the-rules,"
Evelyn said, "you walk in unbound and leave unbound?"
"Yes."
"Interesting. Bold. Abyss-like." Evelyn stood and walked behind her desk, a thoughtful grace in her movement. "So then. You suggest a challenge for control of the real challenge."
"Exactly."
Evelyn turned back, her eyes gleaming. "Then I would also get to choose the stakes if I win the pre-challenge. If you lose this first contest, I get what I want."
Ana stiffened. "And what is that, exactly?"
"A third year."
Ana blinked. "A third year? But I’m not even in - "
"That’s the point, dear Ana. Consecutive," Evelyn said smoothly, then paused to savor Ana's confusion. "Not totaling three years. That third year you didn’t ever wager the last time. Here, I mean a fresh three years. From the day the belt locks again, it doesn’t come off for a thousand nights. You start over. Day one. Like the last two never happened."
Ana froze, visibly reeling.
Evelyn took a slow step closer, voice low and indulgent. "You lose the real challenge after I had set the terms, then it’s three full years of denial, Ana. Not a second of pleasure. Not a finger. Not a grind against a chair. Not a whisper of hope. No Sanctuary, no tongues, no edges. Just you, wet and untouched, growing more useless by the day. Starving your
pussy. Knowing I own every single second of it. And the frame. That’s what I want. That’s the price if I win. You will need to be reminded that orgasms are a luxury. For me, they are sustenance, every orgasm denied nourishes me. You have seen more than enough times that in Abyss we like to play for time. This is why. Are you ready to give up your orgasms again, Ana?"
She let that hang, watching Ana’s breath hitch. Then she went on, slower now, drawing it out, savoring every second as she looked into Ana’s scared eyes. "And yes, let me rephrase it clearly for you, I mean three new years. Not added to what you’ve done before. Not credited. Day one, all over again. A clean slate of suffering. Every urge, every ache, starting fresh. Your past two years mean nothing now. They were merely the warm-up. The real sentence would only begin then. Three uninterrupted years. Starting the moment you lose. No pauses, no reprieves. You’d go from our stage to under my key. From your freedom to denial. You’d endure it all just to prove you still know how to suffer."
She leaned closer, voice silken and cruel. "But if you win - under my conditions - you’ll have earned the right to risk the Frame again. Twenty-four hours, Ana. A full day, in its maximum configuration. Only then, after two full years locked, will the tongues return. One single night of edges in the Sanctum as your prize. And that’s if you endure the challenge. You wanted to play? Then be ready to play to drip."
Ana stared, lips parted, as if even breathing too heavily might trigger more disaster.
Evelyn smiled thinly, her eyes gleaming. "You’ve had a taste of the belt, Ana, but this would be starvation. No tease, no play, no hint of relief. Just you, completely owned by time. Knowing that even the thought of being touched is locked away. That no amount of begging or brilliance in the Sanctum will shorten it. Three cold, merciless years. And then… maybe we talk."
Ana’s jaw tightened. "You’re joking."
"I never joke about chastity, Ana. You of all people should know that."
"That’s not a forfeit. That’s a sentence."
"And your idea of unfettered pleasure with no price isn’t?" Evelyn leaned closer. "This is Abyss. We don’t reward greed. We test it."
Ana stood abruptly, started pacing. "Three years… I can’t - That would break me."
"Yes, it would. Nadia is three years and a half in, she breaks every day anew. That’s the point. A broken womanhood behind steel. Your broken womanhood. Languished and starved."
Ana shivered at those words. "And no tongues at the end?"
"If you lose the actual challenge, not the pre-challenge, no. None. Nothing. Total sexual starvation. You’ll be locked up and forgotten, until the day comes when I say you’re done. Three years."
Ana turned, furious now. "You’re trying to scare me out of it."
Evelyn shrugged, utterly serene. "You’re the one who came to play. Don’t pout now that the stakes feel real." Ana sat again, hard. "You suggested this. This place was built on risk."
"Yes, and I’m honoring that. But fire burns both ways."
They sat in silence for a long moment.
Then Evelyn said, too lightly: "Dance duel."
Ana blinked. "What?"
"Our duel. That’s the form. Let’s call it the pre-dance. The one to decide who set the terms of the actual challenge. On the stage. Before the crowd. You and I."
Ana's mouth went dry. "You’re serious."
"Always. I’ll even let you pick the song. But the crowd will decide. And if I win… I set the final terms. If you win, it is your terms instead."
Ana hesitated. Long. Then: "You’re enjoying this."
"Of course I am. You’re playing with fire, Ana. I think part of you likes it more than the tongues themselves. The brink. The risk. The loss."
Ana looked down, ashamed at how true it felt. How wet she was just from the talk. How fast her heart beat.
Evelyn’s voice shifted, lower. More intimate. She loved these cat and mouse moments, teasing Ana with the stakes at hand. "And just so we’re clear: if you lose the pre-dance duel and I win the right to set the terms, here’s what I propose for your tongue challenge. You’ll still get a chance at the tongues… but only after you’ve served two of your three years. Two whole years, Ana, dripping and locked, before a single flick of those divine tongues touches you again. And if you fumble that? Then you finish the third year still untouched after spending 24 hours in the needle frame instead of visiting the Sanctum. Including the finger and toe needles, and the sole pads. The configuration to ensure highest pain for you."
Ana’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened, but no words came.
Evelyn leaned back, smiling. "If you win the pre-dance, though - then you get your way. If you win the dance after the pre-dance, the Sanctum, with no prelude of denial. One night under the tongues, eight sacred hours. And if you lose the actual challenge, you spend only eight hours in the Frame instead, with no sole pads nor finger and toe needles. You wil be granted the easiest configuration."
She smirked. "Fair trade, isn’t it?"
Ana swallowed hard. The floor felt unstable beneath her feet. She would absolutely need to win the pre-dance challenge to then play under the rules she defined, not Evelyn’s rules.
"You have until Friday to accept," Evelyn said. "You’ll return here with your answer."
Then Evelyn paused, studying Ana with amused menace. "I considered locking you up right here and now. Just for the decision window. Get you in the proper state of mind. But I think…"
She leaned in, whispering now. "I think you should go home. Get naked. And come. Thoroughly, as often as you can. Because if you say yes, Ana… it might be the last one you get for a very, very long time. And if you say no, no belt, but also you will never get another chance to enter the inner sanctum ever again. You will be stuck with your lukewarm orgasms."
Ana left shaken. And more aroused than she cared to admit.
The fire was already returning under her skin.
Back in her small apartment, Nadia slumped onto the couch, utterly drained. The day had been unbearable, and the suit clung to her like a second skin, its rubbery interior slick with sweat. She stripped off her damp outer clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket with a resigned sigh. The air conditioning hummed softly, but it did little to cool her overheated body.
She reached for her journal, flipping it open to the latest entry. The pages were filled with neat, deliberate handwriting, chronicling her daily struggles. "Day 142," she wrote, the pen moving slowly across the paper. "Today was worse than most. The heat is relentless, and no amount of preparation seems to help. People stare. They whisper. I can’t tell if they pity me or think I’m crazy. Maybe both."
Her hand paused, the pen hovering over the page. She stared at the words she’d written, a knot tightening in her chest. The suit had become a part of her life, and yet it felt like it was slowly stripping away pieces of her identity. She’d thought she could endure it, but the months ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain.
Nadia closed the journal and set it aside, leaning back against the cushions. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner. She closed her eyes, willing herself to find strength for the next day. But as the rubber pressed against her skin, its presence inescapable, she couldn’t help but wonder how much more she could take. She couldn’t wait for the night, to get out of the suit from 11 pm to 6:30 am to recover in a good sleep. She’d never have thought that her linen bed sheeting would be such a welcome luxury for her naked skin.
The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the blinds of Nadia’s apartment, casting long, pale shadows across the floor. The air conditioning hummed softly in the background, but the oppressive heat of the summer still seeped into every corner of her home. Nadia sat stiffly on the edge of her couch, her arms resting on her knees. She wore only the Rubber Suit of Permanence, its glossy material clinging to her like a second skin. Anything else - even the lightest layer - was unbearable and unnecessary. The rubber pressed against her body, slick and damp, as sweat gathered in every crease and seam.
When the knock came at her door, her stomach sank. She knew who it would be. Straightening herself, she wiped her damp palms on her thighs and went to open it.
Elise and Alexandru stood in the hallway, dressed impeccably as usual. Elise wore a sleek, backless sundress in pale lavender, her skin glowing and makeup flawless, while Alexandru’s tailored linen shirt and slacks gave him an air of effortless sophistication. They carried an air of casual confidence that made Nadia feel even more acutely aware of her clammy discomfort.
"Nadia," Elise greeted her with a wide, polished smile. "You look… well, as well as can be expected." Her eyes flicked down, taking in the gleaming sheen of the rubber suit and the rivulets of sweat showing on her hands and feet. "May we come in?"
Nadia hesitated, her fingers tightening around the doorframe. She didn’t want to let them in, but something in Elise’s expression told her she didn’t have a choice. Resigned, she stepped aside to let them enter.
The pair moved into her apartment with the ease of people who knew they were in control. Alexandru glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in the modest furnishings and the faint scent of rubber lingering in the air. Elise, meanwhile, perched on the arm of the couch, her posture relaxed but deliberate, as though she were claiming the space as her own.
"Lovely place you have," Elise remarked, though the tone of her voice suggested otherwise. She reached out and ran a finger along the back of a chair, her perfectly manicured nails gleaming. "Cozy. A sweet smell of latex is in the air. Expected, however, now that you live under my rubberization rules again."
Nadia crossed her arms, resisting the urge to snap back. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice steady but strained.
"Oh, nothing too serious," Alexandru replied, his lips curving into a smirk. "We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d check on our favorite Rubber Girl."
Nadia’s cheeks burned at the nickname, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she turned her attention to Elise, who was now inspecting the small fan perched on the windowsill.
"You must be absolutely sweltering in here," Elise said, her tone mock-sympathetic. "This heat wave must be unbearable for someone in your… predicament. And summer has not even fully arrived yet. How many showers is it today? Three? Four?"
"Two," Nadia said shortly, biting the inside of her cheek. She hated how easily they got under her skin.
Elise’s smile widened. "With the suit on to cool it down? To rinse your sweat out? Or before and after? I suppose you’re learning some discipline after all."
Alexandru chuckled softly, stepping closer to where Nadia sat. He tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "But let’s be honest, Nadia. No matter how disciplined you become, there are certain… sexual experiences you’ll never have again. Not as long as that belt is locked in place. Not as long as we are a couple. You know that we are engaged. Maybe marrying soon."
Nadia’s hands balled into fists at her sides, her jaw tightening. She didn’t trust herself to respond, knowing anything she said would only fuel their taunts. How stupid had she been on that fateful night in Abyss, when she demanded from Evelyn "Let her become uninteresting, untouchable, so that she can never interfere in the relationship." She was desperate for sexual gratification.
"Such a shame," Elise continued, her voice light and teasing. "You’re missing out on so much, Nadia. And yet, here you are, sweating through your days, while we’re free to enjoy life, and our bodies, to its fullest."
"Why are you here?" Nadia demanded, her voice sharp and brittle. "You’ve already made your point."
Elise exchanged a glance with Alexandru, and the two of them laughed softly. "Oh, Nadia," Elise said, rising to her feet. "We’re here to remind you of how far you’ve come. Or perhaps how far you still have to go."
"You’ve proven quite resilient," Alexandru added, his tone almost admiring. "But resilience only matters if you can sustain it. Can you? That’s the question."
Nadia felt a lump rise in her throat, but she forced herself to sit taller. "I’ll manage," she said firmly. "I always do."
Elise’s smile softened slightly, though the glint in her eyes remained. "We’ll see. But let me remind you," she said, her voice turning sharper, "your tally isn’t optional. Every hour counts. If you fall short, Evelyn made it clear - your punishment resets. The year starts over, but only after a full month spent in the Rubber Coffin. Imagine that happening in the last month. You wouldn’t want that, right? No skimping, Nadia. No excuses."
Nadia felt cold for a moment, despite the temperature and her stomach churned at the reminder. The thought of resetting or enduring a month in that suffocating, slippery confinement made her skin crawl. She had seen the device prominently featured on Abyss’ social media with Celeste and later Emma. Especially Emma had been nothing more than a husk of a woman after her month was over. She nodded stiffly, refusing to let them see her fear. She had hoped to have one of her twelve orgasms on top of it with Elise in it, but the dance had come out the other way.
"Good, I just wanted to remind you that there is no way for you to avoid your rubberization now." Elise said, her tone dripping with satisfaction. She reached out, patting Nadia’s shoulder in a mockingly reassuring gesture. "Then keep up the suffering."
"Goodbye, Rubber Girl," Alexandru said with a smirk, giving her a secret wink, as they turned to leave.
He had become mean, she noticed. How could she ever have been interested in him? As the door closed behind them, Nadia slumped back against the couch, her mind racing. Their visit had left her feeling exposed and vulnerable, but also
more determined than ever. She would endure this, no matter how much they tried to break her. Because failure wasn’t an option.
The evening after Elise and Alexandru’s visit, Nadia sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, her face flushed with sweat, the soft hum of the air conditioning her only companion. At the same time, unbeknownst to her, Elise and Alexandru found themselves in sexual unison and enjoying several deeply satisfying orgasms. The Rubber Suit of Permanence clung to Nadia like a second skin, its glossy surface now almost comforting in its relentless embrace. She had spent months learning how to live with it, to endure the constant heat or cold, the sweat, the unyielding material, and the humiliation that came with being forced into this state. But tonight, something felt different.
Her thoughts lingered on Elise’s taunts. Every word replayed in her mind, sharper and crueler with each recollection. "Resilience only matters if you can sustain it." The reminder of her tally - a constant, looming threat that failure would reset everything, compounded by a month in the Rubber Coffin - had etched itself into her psyche. The weight of it all threatened to break her resolve. She cried out in despair in her silent dark room, crushed by it all, curling up into a ball on her couch, feeling the embrace of her latex suit as it stretched over her skin. Yet, a spark of something new had taken root within her. Defiance. The kind of defiance that didn’t just endure but plotted.
She couldn’t avoid the rubberization. Not really, there was no way around it. She could run, but that was no real option. The membership contract, the social and financial destruction. She’d lose her rented apartment, possibly lose her job when Abyss interfered. Her bank account. It was mostly empty at the end of each month, and a modest nest egg for emergencies. She didn’t advance her career or build a network in Abyss; there had been no time for that. She had tried to socialize with Alexandru. But she got tangled up with Elise before she could approach Evelyn for career opportunities. Too fast, too swift, she had fallen under Elise’s wrath, and into her belt, and now under her rubberization rules. She couldn’t win, financially or socially, as she didn’t play with Abyss anymore but directly against Elise.
Fifty percent they would take. Fifty percent was not much in absolute terms. But she couldn’t - people would find out and talk. Not here in the anonymity of the capital where people were open and positive about kink, but back in her small village. They thought she had made it big in the city, was an important sales manager, not a mere cashier. Her parents were proud, but they couldn’t see the situation she was in as a submissive to Elise in chastity and latex. She couldn’t run from her contract; not for her parents’ sake.
Nadia opened her journal, flipping past pages filled with methodical entries of her daily struggles and triumphs. Tonight, she didn’t write about the heat or the tally. She began to draft a plan. Her fingers trembled slightly as she wrote, not from fear, but from the thrill of taking back some control. She needed to get out of the belt, or at least, out of the rubber. Elise and Alexandru might have thought themselves untouchable, but she would find a way to shift the balance. Abyss had its rules, but Nadia knew one thing for certain: Evelyn respected cleverness, even when it came from the broken.
In another apartment, in the same city under the same night sky, Ana also pondered her future. She lay sprawled on the floor of her apartment, too restless for the couch, too wired for sleep. The room was dim except for the pale blue light of the kitchen clock. 2:17 a.m. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the lamp. The shadows suited her better tonight.
Her skin still felt flushed, like Evelyn’s voice had left heat marks on it. The cold parquet pressed against her back did nothing to cool her. Her fingers hovered at her waistband more than once, but she didn’t touch. Not yet. Not until she decided.
She had gone to Evelyn’s office looking for stimulation, a taste, a fix - something to make her feel again. And she got it. God, she got it. But she hadn’t expected Evelyn to twist the knife like that. Three years. A full restart. From day one. No halfway games, no teasing. Just lockdown.
She should’ve been repelled. Outraged. Instead, her thighs had pressed together the moment Evelyn whispered the words. She hated herself for that. Hated how much she wanted what she shouldn’t.
The tongues weren’t just pleasure. They were annihilation. They erased her world. They turned her into sensation, into need and nothing else. That night in the Sanctum had changed her, ruined her for normal life. Since then, orgasms had become pale copies, imitations, dust. Even the sharpest toy or the longest edge couldn’t touch what those tongues had done.
She had to admit it now, in this empty room: she was hooked. And Evelyn knew it.
She rolled onto her side, curled up, pressing her legs tight. The ceiling loomed dark above her. Her day job, her friends, her apartment - all of it felt small now. Grey. Every day she woke up, went through routines, stayed "free." And for what? For tepid orgasms under a blanket, for half-hearted flings and late-night scrolling?
She didn’t want safety. She didn’t want average. She wanted heat, risk, consequence. She wanted to feel her own limits again.
The cost was high. Losing meant three years in total chastity, untouched, craving, counting every day, watching her body ache for something she wasn’t allowed to have. She’d scream into pillows. She’d shake in the cold shower. Her legs would cramp from clenching. It would break her down, one week at a time.
But what was the alternative?
Ana sat up, slowly. Her muscles felt tight, coiled. Her mind had already made the choice.
What Evelyn offered wasn’t a sentence. It was a door. A door out of mediocrity. A door into something sharp, terrifying, and real.
She’d take it. She'd dance. And if she lost, she'd count every day. But if she won? She’d be free, wild, back in the Sanctum, with nothing between her and those divine tongues. A single night of total surrender was worth it. Worth anything. Even three years in the dark.
She stripped down in the silence, stood naked in her hallway mirror, and looked at herself. Skin flushed. Breasts rising and falling with each breath. Eyes hungry. Then she turned off the lights, got into bed, edged herself for hours, until the sunrise started to bathe her bedroom in faint red light and let herself orgasm, pushing over the crest. Just once. It was a good one; for the first time in months, a small scream escaped her mouth as she arched her back, her body locking up. Not lukewarm. She hated to admit it - but she was hooked; she needed the thrill, the risk, the prospect of the attendants’ tongues.
Because next Friday night, she would go back to Evelyn. And would say yes.