Chapter 14
Nadia sat alone in her apartment, the dim light of a single lamp casting long shadows along the walls. The room was silent, but her mind roared with conflict. It had been months since her release from the Rubber Suit of Permanence, months since she had been granted back the choice of what to wear. Yet despite the freedom, despite the simple pleasure of feeling cotton, silk, and leather against her skin again, she remained bound in the one way that mattered most. The belt remained locked, and Evelyn had made it clear: it was indefinite.
Her fingers traced the smooth surface of the chastity device through her clothes. It was a maddening, ceaseless reminder of what she had lost, what she could never regain as long as Alexandru and Elise remained together. And they would remain together - she had ensured that herself, sparing Elise from a permanent fate in the coffin, ensuring their continued relationship. Her own words had sealed her fate.
But how long could she endure this?
She exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. She had to find a way to negotiate, to reclaim something, anything. Evelyn would never simply release her; the woman thrived on control, on power plays, on making those who sought escape from Abyss dig themselves even deeper into its grip. If Nadia wanted anything, she would have to offer something in return.
But what? She had nothing Evelyn wanted. Nothing except herself. Her body, her skin, her emotions, her fears, her… loosh.
The thought sent a chill through her, but it refused to leave. Evelyn had always been more interested in games, in wagers, in challenges. If she wanted out, even briefly, she would need to risk something.
The coffin.
Nadia swallowed hard. The transparent rubber coffin, the prison that now held Elise, was a permanent spectacle beneath the floor of Abyss’s main stage. Patrons stared at it, fascinated, watching Elise’s every helpless movement. A testament to her downfall. Evelyn had been delighted by its success.
Would Evelyn entertain the idea of putting her in its black counterpart in the basement for a week? If so - what could she gain? Would a week of confinement be enough to buy her a single night of freedom from chastity?
Nadia pressed her fingers against her temples. It seemed like an impossible trade. Too much risk for too little gain. A single night? And then what? The frustration would return immediately, and she would still be locked, lost in this cruel, endless game.
But perhaps Evelyn would offer more. If she wagered a full month - perhaps Evelyn would grant her several releases spread over some months? That would be something. A true reprieve. A break that might keep her sane.
Or was she fooling herself? But she would need Elise’s approval for that. At least for an orgasm. While Abyss technically held the key, it was still Elise’s belt around her hips.
She clenched her jaw, staring at the ceiling, at nothing, at everything.
And what if she lost?
A week inside the coffin. The thought was both horrifying and strangely hypnotic. It pulled on her. She was curious how it felt, but only for a short time, not really risking anything severe. Would it be truly unbearable? Or would she adapt? Would she learn, as Elise had, how to exist within it? The suit had been awful, suffocating, but she had survived. She had endured. Could she endure this as well?
No. She shook her head violently. This was madness. She could not offer herself up so easily. Evelyn would take advantage of her hesitation, twist the stakes, push her deeper into Abyss’s clutches.
But even as she told herself that, the question remained.
Would it be worth it?
The bass-heavy music of Abyss pulsed through the air, reverberating in Nadia’s chest as she stood at the edge of the stage, looking down. The transparent coffin beneath the glass floor was an ever present attraction now, its occupant barely visible except when the shifting light caught the glistening sweat on Elise’s writhing form. The mirror above the stage tilted just so, ensuring that no patron could miss the spectacle of Abyss’s longest-serving captive, entombed in slick, airtight rubber.
Nadia swallowed, her gloved fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. She wasn’t drinking tonight - she never did when she came to observe - but holding something in her hands helped ground her. The sight before her stirred too many emotions, and she needed something, anything, to keep herself steady.
Elise had been in there for months now, stripped of any agency, any power, reduced to an exhibit of squirming, rubber sealed helplessness. The transparent latex suit underneath her coffin’s layers left her bare to the eyes of anyone who wished to look, though she was deaf and blind to the world outside. Nadia had once found satisfaction in seeing her rival humbled like this, but lately, she wasn’t sure what she felt. Pity? Fear? The creeping itch of temptation?
She exhaled slowly.
The thought had been lingering at the edges of her mind for months now, actually already ever since Evelyn had announced Elise’s sentence. How far would she go for a reprieve? Would she be willing to put herself in a position like this - for a day, a week - just to have the lock on her belt undone, even if only briefly? Even if it was Elise’s belt, Abyss opened it regularly for her hygiene maintenance visits. She rarely went, as strangely there was almost nothing to clean here, as if… the belt took care of itself? But when she went, maybe the attendants could be argued with to grant her an edging? There was nothing in the rules against that, as long as her orgasm would stay denied, right? She could propose a game to Evelyn, to be edged if she won.
No.
She shook her head, pushing the thought away. The moment she played that game, she would be trapped. That was the nature of Abyss. A week might turn into a month. A month might turn into an offer of more, just for another taste of freedom. She had spent too long wrapped in the club’s games, and it had left her exactly where she was now - chaste, forever bound by a challenge she’d demanded in foolish desperation.
And yet…
Her gaze drifted back to Elise. She had never seen a woman reduced to such a state before, and it fascinated her as much as it terrified her. The way Elise moved, slow and aimless, like a nude hairless human slug, slipping in her own sweat, constantly stimulated by the slick, pressing rubber. There was no relief in there, no pleasure, no escape - only sensation and time stretching endlessly forward. It was torment, but it was also… consuming. Absolute. A surrender beyond anything Nadia had ever imagined.
She clenched her jaw. The idea of being trapped in such a place should disgust her, but her body betrayed her, a heat creeping through her at the mere thought of trading control for release. She'd try it for a day, a week, just to know how it would feel. But no, these thoughts were dangerous.
No. She was not Elise. She would never be.
And yet, deep inside, she feared she had already lost.
Her fingers twitched against the glass. If she asked Evelyn for a wager, what would she demand? A week in the black rubber coffin for one single night being edged by the attendants? A single edge? Ana had always talked about how ungodly good those edges felt. No, of course Evelyn would push harder, knowing how much Abyss thrived on escalation? A month in rubber, locked away, for just one fleeting moment of pleasure? Would she be able to endure complete chastity again, after she had won an edging? If she won, would she ask for another and then another wager? Edges were sweet and ever so addictive. Would Evelyn let her go once she stepped onto that path, or would she guide her deeper, until she had nothing left to gamble? She could ask for orgasms, knowing that they would not be on the table without Elise, and then to be negotiated down to edging.
Nadia shuddered. Edges would be enough for her at this point. She needed to feel something other than the needle pad and these godforsaken Rings.
She turned away from the stage and walked toward the lounge. It was dangerous to linger too long, to let these thoughts take root. The moment she entertained them, she was already one step closer to losing.
And the house always won.
Evelyn sat alone in her private chamber, the dim amber glow of Abyss’s underground lights casting long shadows across the room. A glass of deep red wine sat untouched before her. Her fingers drummed against the polished wood of her desk as she stared at the flickering candlelight, lost in thought.
Just an hour ago she had passed through the silent club, after its closing hours. She had stood and observed the silent figure under the stage floor. In the dark club, LED strips kept the coffin's interior illuminated. The occupant lay still, her chest heaving in a slow steady rhythm. Elise was asleep, the pad beneath her back to keep her moving was dormant when the club was closed. She looked exhausted, if anyone could tell such a difference. A bald mannequin, her brow less eyes blindfolded, her skin covered in clear, almost colorless latex, held in place by more inflated cushions of the same color and material. She looked wet, that special sheen between her legs, trapped in individual sleeves. No matter how often the random-intervalled flush baths occurred, her inner thighs always were wet. The vacuum drew out the liquids from her apex. The bullet vibrator combined with the heart rate sensor was ingenious and relentless. By now the edges would have stopped almost, leaving her simmering on a plateau of desire. It seemed to be buzzing slightly even now, an ever so slight ripple in the latex pouch over her clitoris, only visible to the most focussed observer. She looked down at her feet, her toenails perfectly displayed and visible through the layers of transparent latex. Her toes individually contained in their small latex pockets. The mirror at the bottom of the contraption allowed a view onto Elise’s soles. Evelyn pondered what dreams Elise might be dreaming and if she could distinguish them from hallucinations in her sensory deprivation.
Back in her private rooms, the weight of the owners' letter still lingered in her mind, its message clear - her retirement would only be averted by providing a permanent occupant for the rubber coffin. She did not fear Lena anymore, not truly. It had been too long since she had heard from her. But the owners were not to be underestimated. If they wanted a final, dramatic duel between herself and Lena, for the rumored Needle Coffin nevertheless, they would find ways to motivate her. Even if Lena had chosen to stay away, the right nudge could push her toward vengeance, toward facing Evelyn in a match where the loser would be condemned to the very fate she wished to avoid. No, Evelyn had no intention of taking such a gamble.
Instead, she turned her thoughts to the enticing alternative. A permanent display of suffering, encased in transparent rubber beneath the stage, a writhing testament to Abyss’s power. A permanent figure, not just a guest passing through, but someone who would belong to Abyss forever. She admitted to herself that the thought alone thrilled her. There was something perfect in the idea, something poetic, something undeniable. She was over her fear of Lena, and therefore also over offering herself up to the rubber coffin.
Instead, three names circled her mind - Elise, Nadia, and Camelia. Each one a possibility, each one bringing a unique allure to her vision.
Elise. The once-powerful tormentor now reduced to a year-long prisoner in her own glass prison. Would she emerge seeking vengeance? Would she return with fire in her eyes and a hunger for retribution? Or would she be so broken by the experience that she simply faded into servitude, grateful merely to be free? Would she be a functioning human even, or a fractured mind? If Evelyn pursued Elise as her chosen permanent occupant, there was a risk. A woman once so cunning, so relentless, might not forgive so easily. But if Elise could be tricked into a second challenge, if she could be bound back into the coffin before she had the chance to recover, then perhaps she would have no fight left at all.
Evelyn was sure that Elise would at least force Nadia to play a challenge. Abyss has already agreed for a year as forfeit and Elise would demand nothing less. Evelyn was now ready to put permanent retirement into the coffin on the table. Would Elise force that forfeit on Nadia? Would Nadia accept her social ruin over taking that forfeit? Would she run? Or risk her changes? Elise wanted it before, Nadia bound forever, more than anything. But now? Would she spare Nadia, just as Nadia had spared Elise? Or would Elise’s mind be too fractured when she emerged back into the world? Elise was an unknown variable. Cruel, damaged, and volatile, as always. The year in the coffin would only make it worse.
Nadia. The ever-reluctant contestant, forever dancing on the edge of her chastity and the fear of another challenge. Evelyn smiled to herself, swirling the wine in her glass. She had already disappointed her by allowing her rival a way out, once the year was served. Nadia’s weakness beside her naivety and kindness was evident: her chastity was an unbearable burden. Could she be baited into a challenge, something enticing enough that she would risk everything for a brief moment of freedom? A duel? A solo performance? Perhaps a promise too tempting to ignore? Evelyn could already picture the desperation in her eyes, the moment of hesitation before agreeing, the slow realization of what she had done when she lost. She was the most predictable of the three, but also the most careful. Coaxing her would require precision.
Now, Nadia endured the constant presence of a small needle pad inside her chastity belt, a subtle yet relentless reminder to maintain proper, ladylike behavior. Evelyn considered an alternative - one that might break her resolve in a far more insidious way. Instead of the pinpricks of the needle pad, she envisioned replacing it with a soft, floppy latex extension, one that would shift and glide with Nadia's every movement, teasing her flesh with its unnatural presence. It wasn’t a latex finger, nor a latex tongue, it just … was.
Already she had disabled the needle pad in her belt for the night. Even though she didn’t understand how it worked, it did. Certain items obeyed her commands, sometimes. Other items did not. Nadia would be worked up just by the needle leaving her alone and the absence of a discouraging prick. Replacing it with the latex extension would make this interesting. Evelyn smiled to herself, imagining the effect. Unlike the sharp correction of the needles, this addition would be deceptively gentle, its torment psychological rather than physical. It would be something Nadia could not ignore, something that would constantly remind her of her state. The subtle movements, the infuriating sensation of touch without release - it could prove far more maddening than any sharp pain ever could.
She could make the change during Nadia’s next hygiene check-up. It would be such a minor adjustment, one that would seem inconsequential at first. But over time? Oh, over time, it would wear her down. Would she crack under this addition? Evelyn had no doubt that she would. The real question was when.
And then there was Camelia. The ballerina. The innocent one. Always there for others. Offering comfort and help. Sweet, graceful, pliable. Evelyn felt an undeniable pleasure at the thought of her permanently enclosed, writhing under the stage, her delicate form encased in a tight cocoon of transparent latex. Camelia had panicked the last time she faced Abyss’s trials, and Evelyn had loved every second of it. She had no tolerance for rubber, no love for the sensation, no endurance for the suffering. That made her the most delectable of all. She was Evelyn’s favorite, ever since the night of the Flickering Candle, and a favorite visitor in her nightly fantasies. She wanted her, not romantically, but in a twisted sexual way. But how could she be convinced to play? How could she be made to risk such a fate?
Lena and Mina briefly crossed Evelyn’s mind, but she dismissed them. There was no way to tempt them, no way to lure them into something so extreme. They had made their choices long ago, and they were no longer Abyss’s playthings. They probably even enjoyed tribbing on the clarinet dildo by now.
She leaned back in her chair, allowing herself to imagine the possibilities. She took a deep sip of her wine. Swirled the heavy red liquid. Names swirled in her mind: Elise, Nadia, Camelia. One of them would be hers. One of them would take the place meant for her, ensuring her continued reign without the looming shadow of the needle coffin, nor the rubber coffin. But which one? And how?
Her fingers slid over the leather of the Stilettos of the Languished Arches beside her desk. The stilettos had become worn and aged, their constant use visible. They had become a ritual by now, her torment, her training. She winced, looking at stilettos and their worn leather, her feet feeling the phantom pain. Her energy got drained through her soles every time she failed another attempt at the cursed Seventh Circle of Hell song. In her mind, she heard the Count laugh. They languished her soles almost every night in her dance. Even with her cunning, even with her ability to control Abyss, she knew the only way to guarantee her future was to master the Seventh Circle. Until she had certainty, she would continue to practice. The stakes were too high. The Count and the Owners would not accept failure.
She stood, slipping her naked feet into the familiar embrace of the punishing heels. The music of the Seventh Circle song began to play, and she took her place in the center of her chamber. The pain, the rhythm, the endurance - it was all part of the game. And she would play until she won.
But as she danced, the images of Elise, Nadia, and Camelia swirled in her mind, each one a tantalizing prospect, each one a key to her salvation. It was only a matter of time before she decided which one would take the final step into oblivion.
If she could convince one of them to play just one more game, to risk everything in the name of desire, then she would be safe. The needle coffin would no longer loom over her. She danced, her ankles aching, her calves burning, her breath steady. Her salvation lay ahead, wrapped in rubber, displayed beneath the glass stage, writhing, helpless, hers to command.
Her thoughts drifted, as so often when she danced on the threat of the spikes embedded in her Stilettos. She knew the Count would not force Lena to the challenge; he respected free-will, if respect would be the right word. Free-will and consent was bent and twisted, but never outright broken in Abyss. What if he tricked Lena? Her weak point would be protecting Mina. This could be a setup where Lena could show up and demand the duel for the needle coffin. No, she needed to beat the song. Or, this seemed by now more realistic, get the transparent rubber coffin occupied permanently.
But she would not be the one to fall into it. Someone else would take her place.
Nadia lay on the examination table, her wrists and ankles shackled for her weekly hygiene appointment at Abyss. Evelyn stood before her, arms crossed, watching with an expression of detached amusement. The air in the small medical room of Abyss was thick with anticipation.
"You’ve suffered enough," Evelyn said, her voice carrying that measured, knowing tone that always made Nadia wary. "The needle pad has served its purpose. It’s time for something more forgiving. I’m exchanging the penalty needle pad for the standard pad."
Nadia barely dared to hope, keeping her expression neutral as Evelyn stepped forward and unlocked the belt. The relief was momentary, fleeting - before she could even process the freedom, she felt the cool pressure of a replacement being fastened in its place. It was the same belt, but different. Sleek, seamless, and somehow more insidious. She swallowed hard.
"There. No more needles. Consider it a kindness." Evelyn’s smile was small and unreadable. "The regular pad comes with a little latex extension inside to replace those nasty needles."
Nadia blinked. The words barely registered at first. She wanted to ask about a challenge for edges, but this was an unexpected break of the hygiene routine. Then she shifted slightly on the table, feeling it - smooth, soft, but undeniably present. It moved with her, responding to the smallest change in position. It was subtle, teasing, a whisper of something that would never become a roar. It would never be enough, only a tormenting reminder of her denial.
"You’re free to go," Evelyn said, watching closely as Nadia slid off the table, her movements hesitant. "I trust you’ll adjust."
The walk home was unbearable. The extension wasn’t intrusive, not exactly. That’s what made it so insidious. It wasn’t something she could fight against or ignore like the needle pad. It didn’t hurt - it suggested. Every step, every shift of her weight, it was there. A ghost of sensation, taunting her.
By the time she reached her apartment, her breaths were uneven. She forced herself to act normal, going through the motions of her routine, but the awareness was constant. She undressed slowly and slipped into a simple silk pajamas. Lying down, she tried to find a comfortable position. It was impossible. On her side, her stomach, her back - it didn’t matter. The belt didn’t let her forget. Her own body betrayed her, amplifying her frustration. She moaned out loud in a renewed frustration she didn’t know she had in her. As if on cue, her Rings of Eternal Longing seemed to squeeze her nipples, and her moan turned into a long desperate howl.
She clenched her fists. This is the plan. She could see it clearly now. Evelyn had taken away something painful only to replace it with something worse. This was meant to push her, to keep her teetering on the edge of a decision she swore she’d never make. She was setting her up for a challenge. But she would not be the one asking to risk a week for an orgasm. She would be challenged, and it would be so bad that she would never have agreed without this evil piece of latex. Elise was not the only one wanting to see her dangle over the rubber coffin. Nadia shuddered in fear.
She felt like she was orbiting, at an increasing speed, around what she dreaded most. She felt the pull. The slow, careful unraveling of her willpower.
Evelyn sat in her private suite, swirling a glass of wine in one hand as she watched the dim lights of Abyss flicker against the polished floor. Nadia was a long game - she knew that. The girl had strength, stubbornness. But even the strongest could be worn down. It was only a matter of time. Almost six months to go anyhow, the coffin was still occupied.
Wouldn’t it be sweeter this way? Evelyn pondered. Nadia had shown mercy, and had resisted the path of vengeance. She had taken the moral high ground. Wouldn’t it be a more exquisite tragedy to see her fall, to watch her walk herself into the fate she had spared Elise from? There was something poetic in it, something inevitable. If you think this has a happy ending, you haven’t been paying attention. She remembered a quote from a famous TV series.
Yet, Elise had been the villain. Would it not be more fitting to break her completely? To make sure she never rose again? Perhaps. But Nadia had potential - potential for suffering, for a slow, spiraling descent into something even she had not yet considered.
And then there was Camelia. She always wanted her. She still pleasured herself thinking back of Camelia as the Flickering Candle. Even more so than her confinement for a month in the normal black rubber coffin in the basement.
Evelyn tapped her fingers against the rim of her glass. The ballerina had been a delight to watch crumble, but she had not yet been truly broken. She had panicked, she had suffered - but she had not submitted. Not yet.
A performance. That was the key. Camelia’s love, her pride, was in her dancing. What if Abyss offered her the stage once more? A graceful endurance challenge, something enticing enough that she could not resist? And, of course, a forfeit that would ensure she never danced freely again. A wager she would think she could win - until she didn’t.
Evelyn smiled. Yes. That would do nicely.
There was no rush. The pieces were in place, and all that remained was the gentle, patient spin of the web.
Somewhere across the city, Nadia tossed and turned, trying desperately to find peace in a belt that would never let her rest.
The music pulsed through Abyss, a deep, steady rhythm that seemed to seep into the very bones of the club. The air was thick with energy - swaying bodies on the dance floor, laughter and murmurs at the booths, the low hum of anticipation that never seemed to fade in this place. Nadia sat alone at one of the dimly lit lounge tables, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her untouched drink.
She idly observed one of the neighboring tables. A young woman in a black latex catsuit sat by herself, the gloss of her suit catching the dim red lights like a glistening oil slick. In front of her was a cocktail glass, but the liquid inside was strange, thick, almost gelatinous, milky-white with a faint shimmer. Nadia furrowed her brow. The woman looked pale, and her face had a sheen of sweat. Her gloved hands trembled slightly as she held the glass steady, knuckles taut with effort. With a sharp breath, she raised it to her lips. The moment the thick substance touched her tongue, her face twisted in disgust. Her throat convulsed, and for a heart-stopping second, Nadia thought she might actually vomit into her lap. God, that can't be, she thought.
But the woman swallowed, jaw clenched, and set the glass down carefully, breathing heavily through her nose. Her expression was one of endurance, a mix of determination and resignation. This wasn't indulgence. It was compliance. And it hit Nadia suddenly: the girl wasn’t drinking for herself. She was drinking because someone had told her to.
Because it was part of something. A challenge? A protocol? A gamble? Another layer of submission, enforced by the silent gravity of Abyss. The woman was dressed in latex, so she was usually in a submissive role in Abyss. Nadia was curious about what the story behind her cocktail was.
Nadia turned away, unsettled. The club was full of quiet stories like that, private punishments playing out in plain sight, invisible unless you knew where to look. And tonight, Nadia was too raw to keep her walls up. The music vibrated through her bones, but it couldn't dislodge the weight in her chest. She closed her eyes, leaning back into the plush seating, trying to melt into the shadows. It had been a month since Evelyn had upgraded her belt. A month since Evelyn had traded her desperate longing for something far worse than strict denial on the needle pad insert. Now, the extension was there, always, softly beneath the hard metal, a cruel, patient tormentor that knew exactly how to stir her without giving her anything in return. No release. Not even the edge. Just a flicker here and there, a slow crescendo of sensation that dropped away before her nerves could fully respond. She had survived years of chastity. But this? This was different. It wasn’t abstinence. It was provocation without relief, constant tension without resolution. A slow burn that infected her sleep, her thoughts, even the way she moved.
Every time she sat down, she felt it. Every time she laughed, it was there underneath, whispering reminders of her defeat. It had changed how she spoke, how she walked, how she breathed. And in a place like Abyss, no one offered comfort for that kind of suffering. They just watched. Admired. Took notes for their own future games. Nadia opened her eyes and reached for her drink, suddenly needing something to ground her. But her hand hovered just above the glass, trembling slightly. She pulled back, curling her fingers into her palm. She wasn't ready to drink. Not yet. Not while she still felt the rhythm of that other woman’s struggle echoing in her own. Not while her body still hummed with unsatisfied need.
She was trying to lose herself in the rhythm, in the bass vibrating through her chest, in anything but the constant, aching reminder locked around her waist. It had been a month now. A month since Evelyn had installed the extension in her belt. A month of teasing, of frustration that gnawed at her relentlessly, of sleepless nights spent tossing and turning as the latex tormented her. She had survived a long time of chastity before this, but nothing had prepared her for this level of torment.
And yet, she endured. Because she had no choice.
"Mind if I join you?"
Nadia looked up, startled out of her thoughts. Camelia stood before her, bathed in the shifting neon glow of Abyss’s lights. Her red hair gleamed under the dim illumination, and her eyes - curious, intrigued - held a warmth that was rare in this place. She wasn’t smiling, but there was something in her gaze that felt inviting.
Nadia’s eyes lit up. "Camelia! Please, I love to have you at my side. At my table, I mean. Go ahead."
Camelia grinned at the slip up, smiled brightly, and slid into the seat across from her, gracefully crossing her legs. She wore a fitted black dress, elegant yet simple, a stark contrast to the elaborate outfits of the other patrons. "You looked like you were having a conversation with your drink. I thought I’d save it from having to respond."
Nadia let out a short, surprised laugh. "I guess I was."
Camelia tilted her head slightly, observing her. "You’re different in Abyss without the suit and hood. Your smile is so much more visible when your face is uncovered."
Nadia smiled at the compliment and exhaled, leaning back against the booth. "Months ago. People still see me as the rubber-enclosed girl. Feels strange. I was in them so long, it’s like I forgot what normal clothes feel like."
"You are still kind of a celebrity here. And the belt?" Camelia asked carefully, her voice lowering slightly, as if she knew the answer before Nadia even responded.
Nadia’s jaw tightened, her fingers tensing against the glass. "Still there. Still… worse than ever."
Camelia studied her for a moment before nodding, as if she truly understood. "Evelyn has a way of making sure no one forgets their place here."
A silence stretched between them, comfortable yet weighted. Around them, Abyss continued its endless motion - dancers moving like liquid in the center of the club, conversations murmuring over clinking glasses. But both women knew that Abyss had another centerpiece tonight.
Nadia’s eyes flicked to the tilted mirror that hung above the stage, its angle revealing the transparent coffin beneath the floor. Even from where they sat, Elise’s encased form was visible - motionless, sealed away, her smooth, hairless head barely visible through the reflective glare.
Camelia followed her gaze. "She’s still. For now."
Nadia swallowed. "But when she moves…"
Camelia nodded. "On club nights she dances her own dance. The first time I saw it, it unsettled me. It was… eerie. Now, I just feel - "
"Pity?" Nadia offered.
Camelia hesitated. "No. Not pity. Understanding. I was in that thing, Nadia. For a month."
Nadia nodded, her expression growing distant. "I remember well. You told me about the horrors."
Camelia’s lips pressed together. "Then you know. You know how it breaks you, how it strips you down to nothing. How every second stretches into eternity. And Elise… she’s been in for how long now?"
"Seven months," Nadia whispered. "And she has five more to go."
A shudder ran through Camelia, but she quickly masked it. "That’s why I don’t pity her. I understand her suffering, but… she would have done the same to you."
Nadia exhaled slowly, then hesitated before speaking. "It’s not just the belt, Camelia. It’s what I think Evelyn is planning for me. I know how she works. The extension… It's a setup. She’s making me desperate enough to accept something extreme. Something I wouldn’t normally risk."
Camelia’s expression darkened slightly. "The rubber coffin? When Elise’s time is up?"
Nadia nodded. "I’m terrified. Not just of it, but of how long she’ll make me endure this before the real challenge even begins. I could be stuck like this for months before she even gives me the option."
Camelia watched her carefully, her fingers tapping lightly against her glass. "The setup is sophisticated; look at it, the glass floor with the box - the coffin - beneath. The large mirror. I doubt Evelyn will have everything disassembled and torn out again when Elise is released. She would want another one to take her place in it. Oh fuck, Nadia. She wants you at your breaking point."
Nadia let out a dry chuckle. "She’s close. The nights are the worst. I toss and turn, and it just… it hollows me out a little more each day. I’m scared that by the time the challenge actually comes, I’ll be too far gone to say no."
Camelia’s gaze softened, and she reached out slightly, hesitating before pulling back. "Why can’t you just say no? If the stakes are too much, if you don’t want it - can’t you refuse?"
Nadia looked down at the table, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass. "I can always walk away, in theory. I’m not running from a forfeit, after all. I should be able to walk away. But the extension… it’s keeping me on edge, making me desperate. I need relief from it. I can already feel myself slipping. If Evelyn dangles the right challenge, the right prize, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away, even if the forfeit would be severe."
Camelia was silent for a moment before she finally said, "Maybe you’re stronger than you think." Nadia’s gaze snapped to hers, searching, but she found no judgment there. Just understanding. Just knowing. Camelia smiled faintly, then leaned back. "You don’t have to go through this alone."
Nadia swallowed. "I’ve been alone for a long time."
Camelia smiled again, this time softer. She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully, "Is it because you’re unavailable to a partner? Because Evelyn has made sure you’re bound in chastity, unable to give yourself to anyone?"
Nadia’s breath hitched slightly. She looked down at her drink, swirling the liquid absently. "I don’t know… maybe. It’s not just about that. It’s about control. About the way she’s pushing me, pulling me into a corner where my choices don’t feel like choices anymore. The longer this goes on, the more desperate I get. And desperate people make bad decisions."
Camelia smiled again, this time softer. She hesitated for a moment, choosing her words carefully. Then she gestured subtly toward the table in the corner. "See the girl over there with the drink? Latex suit, pale face, holding that glass like her life depends on it?"
Nadia glanced over. She had barely made progress on her cocktail, it was still almost full. She looked paler, sweatier by now. As if the drink was consuming her, instead of her consuming her drink. "God, yes. She is fighting with her drink for a while now. What about her?"
"Semen cocktail," Camelia said with a trace of amusement mixed with pity. "She’s probably in a challenge of her own. Happens more often than you’d think. The bar has special drinks not on the menu. Abyss runs dozens of games and forfeits at any given time. Most people don’t notice. You just catch little glimpses if you know what to look for."
Nadia raised an eyebrow. “She is fighting with every drop to keep it down."
Camelia chuckled softly. "Absolutely. You can see how thick it is, how murky. I can smell it from here. Likely a task. Maybe punishment. Maybe part of her deal. You can bet that she will be in a lot of trouble if she does not finish her cocktail, either by Midnight or closing hour. Maybe even more trouble, if she throws up. This place is full of wagers and half-secret pacts."
Nadia considered this in silence for a moment, then nodded slowly. "So even when it feels like I’m the only one struggling, I’m not."
"Exactly," Camelia said gently. "You’re never really alone in Abyss."
Neither of them moved, neither of them looked away. The woman in the corner took another small sip, retching as she put the cocktail down again. The music swelled around them, the club alive with motion and energy, but in that moment, all Nadia could feel was the weight of Camelia’s eyes on her.
And, for the first time in weeks, she felt something other than longing.
She felt sympathy.
Camelia hesitated, then asked. "Do you want to share a dance with me? Just in normal heels for once?" Nadia smiled. Camelia took her hand. She really liked her.
Nadia sat alone in her dimly lit apartment, the quiet hum of the city outside a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. A month had passed since her belt had been modified, since the cruel little needle pad had been removed and replaced with something infinitely worse - a soft, slick latex extension, subtle in its torment, insidious in its effect. At first, she had thought it was a relief, a sign that Evelyn had granted her some mercy, to feel anything other than pain, some sexual feelings at least. But as the days dragged on, she realized the truth. The belt was no longer punishing her for not so chaste thoughts and behavior. It was toying with her, teasing her, constantly reminding her of what she could never have. It moved with her, ever so slightly, just enough to keep her on edge, to ensure she never forgot its presence.
She thought back many times to the dance she had shared with Camelia. Their bodies pressed together, she could feel Camelia’s body heat through her latex catsuit. The slow movements, Camelia’s hands on her hips, resting on the metal band beneath the latex. The fire that had ignited. She remembered blushing when she had her head on Camelia’s shoulder and a deep moan escaped her mouth. But Camilla didn’t say anything; she just pulled her in closer.
Since then, she had tried everything - meditation, cold showers, long walks in the night air - but nothing could quell the burning frustration building inside her. Sleep was the worst. The moment she closed her eyes, her mind filled with images of release, only to be jolted awake by the reality of her restraints. Every morning, she awoke drenched in sweat, panting, her entire body pulsing with unmet need. She was losing herself, and she knew it.
Evelyn. That name had become both a curse and an obsession. The woman who had once been her captor, then her reluctant liberator, and now her tormentor once more. Nadia had fought so hard for her dignity, had thought she had won a kind of peace, only to find herself ensnared in yet another game. And Evelyn? She was surely watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Tonight, Nadia could take no more. The belt had broken her, left her trembling and desperate, and she knew there was only one place to go. Abyss. To Evelyn.
Nadia paced in front of the heavy door to Evelyn’s office, her heart pounding so loudly it nearly drowned out the muffled bass from the club below. A month. A month of this endless, torturous frustration. It had become unbearable, worse than anything she had ever endured. Her breath was unsteady as she clenched her fists. She hadn’t lost a challenge. She hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet, she had been forced to endure this slow, insidious torment.
With a deep breath, she rapped on the door. A long pause followed before she heard Evelyn’s voice call from within. "Enter."
Nadia stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. Evelyn sat behind her sleek black desk, poised as always, a glass of deep red wine in one hand, watching her with an infuriating smirk. The room was dimly lit, save for the glow of the city skyline through the wide windows behind her.
"Nadia," Evelyn greeted, her voice smooth and laced with amusement. "I was beginning to wonder when you’d come to me."
Nadia took a step forward, inhaling sharply through her nose, trying to maintain composure. "This isn’t fair," she stated bluntly.
Evelyn arched a brow. "Oh?"
"The latex extension," Nadia snapped, voice tight. "I never lost a challenge. You just… put it there. Without my consent. Without any reason. It’s torture, Evelyn."
Evelyn swirled her wine glass lazily, feigning contemplation. "Torture? Such an interesting word choice. No, I just removed the torture needle pad and replaced it by the default pad. Tell me, would you prefer I reinstate the needle pad instead?"
"Yes!" Nadia flinched. The needle pad had been agonizing, but at least it had been a clear punishment, something she could brace herself against. This, though? This was psychological warfare.
"I want it gone," Nadia said, more firmly. "I can’t function like this. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus. I need it gone. I did not consent to this!"
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, watching Nadia with calculated patience. She had anticipated this. "Not needed in this case. The needle pad had been Abyss’ twist on Elise’s belt. It is Elise's belt, still. But it is in my power to reduce the burden for you, going back to a standard pad. Still worse than no pad, like Ana’s belt, or Alina’s, admitted. But be thankful, I take away the pain of the needles. Your consent is not needed to take away pain I inflicted on you."
Nadia’s eyes darted left to right, confused. She didn’t ask for any special pad inside her belt. This was worse than before. The desperation, the wavering resolve. The slow realization that, no matter how much Nadia fought, she would always be bound by the constraints of Abyss. But the true breaking point had yet to come.
"Oh, Nadia," Evelyn sighed dramatically, setting her wine down. "You speak as though you have a right to make demands. Have you forgotten where you are? Who you are?" She tilted her head, a glint of amusement in her gaze. "You belong to Abyss. To me. And as far as I’m concerned, you are precisely where you should be."
Nadia gritted her teeth, her nails digging into her palms. "This isn’t a game."
"Everything is a game," Evelyn corrected. "And I play the long one."
Nadia’s breathing hitched. There it was. The unspoken truth. This wasn’t about the belt, not really. Evelyn had something planned. Something bigger. And she was merely maneuvering the pieces into place.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The tension in the air was suffocating.
"Make me a statue again, one week in the black rubber coffin. For one orgasm."
"No."
"A month."
"No." Evelyn laughed, then gestured for her to be quiet.
Nadia stayed silent at the gesture. She wanted to blurt out "six months", just to see if it would be enough - the gesture stopped her, thankfully. Asking for that forfeit would be seen as consent in Abyss. She didn’t want to risk more time. They both stayed silent for a while.
Finally, Nadia swallowed her pride. "Then let me earn my way out of it," she said, voice quieter but no less desperate. "What are your conditions? What game do you want me to play?"
Evelyn’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Oh, darling, I was hoping you’d ask. You can not play for removal of the belt, or for orgasms. Not with me anyhow. Remember, this is Elise’s belt you are wearing. Only she can decide that. As she is… let’s say incapacitated at the moment, busy to experience latex enclosure to the fullest, she won’t allow you a game for relief. But there may be a strategy, my dear."
"I get it. Elise’s belt. Then a night of edges when the belt is opened for hygiene, when I win!," she blurted out. Evelyn smiled. "Oh kitten, you are so sweet when you try to negotiate. You are so bad at it, it’s funny." Nadia opened her mouth to answer, but Evelyn shhh’ed her, gesturing to her to be quiet.
The air in Evelyn's study was thick with stillness, the only sound the faint hum of the ambient system that kept Abyss at its perfect, unnerving temperature. Nadia stood, tense and unblinking, on the opposite side of the obsidian desk. Evelyn, always poised like a queen born rather than made, rounded the desk slowly, her heels silent on the carpet. She stopped just behind Nadia and placed a hand on her shoulder.
The touch was light. Measured. But it sank into Nadia's flesh like a brand.
"I've been observing you," Evelyn murmured, her voice velvet and blade. "Observing you observe others." Nadia said nothing at first. Her breath caught, a warning blooming in her chest. "What does that mean?"
Evelyn circled her now, moving into view. Her smile was the kind that concealed far more than it revealed. "The other night, in the lounge. You were…transfixed. By the girl with the special cocktail."
Nadia stiffened. She remembered. The pale latex-clad woman hunched over her glass, sipping that viscous, off-white drink. Her face twisted in discomfort. Her will, tested publicly. And Nadia, against her better judgment, had watched every trembling sip.
Evelyn continued, her tone quiet, lethal. "A semen cocktail. A test of devotion. You watched her drink, and I watched you watch. With revulsion. With curiosity. Fascination."
Nadia shook her head, jaw tight. "That doesn’t mean I want one."
"Of course not," Evelyn purred. "But what if the next one is special? Tailored. What if it offered you something far more potent than just any cum?"
Nadia's throat went dry.
"Imagine," Evelyn said, taking a slow step forward, "the chance to drink Alexandru. His essence. A cocktail formed from him. Intimate. Absolute. If he agrees to contribute. Elise is, after all, otherwise occupied."
The words struck like ice water. Nadia tried to step back, but her legs wouldn't move. "You can’t be serious."
Evelyn only smiled. "It would be a claim. Not just as the metal around your waist, as Elise claimed you. Or the latex on your skin for so long. But a claim to your tongue. Your stomach. More of you, belonging to them."
"No." Nadia whispered. The word barely had weight.
Evelyn tilted her head. "A wise choice, perhaps. Or a terribly missed one. If you offer to drink it in front of him, with sincerity, with reverence, he might see you differently. Maybe still a worthy rival of Elise. Or a missed opportunity. Maybe he falls for you, when you offer to consume his gift. He is a weak man. If he falls for you, you will be free of the belt. You could be the woman who finally understands him. Honors him."
Nadia snapped, voice sharp with bitterness, "Or he laughs. Watches me gag and mocks me. I doubt a man like him would abandon his fiancé when I drink … that … for him. Maybe prepares another. A second serving."
Evelyn’s eyes glittered. "Maybe. But maybe not. And maybe…but there was a time where you wanted him. You dueled Elise over him. That is what got you into this situation in the first place. Maybe he reaches for your hand instead now. Opens a path forward. A path that ends with you free. No more belt, if he rejects Elise for you. No more rules, not your own."
She paused, then continued. "You can seduce him. Take him away from Elise while she is incapacitated in her glass box. You know already, he thought of you during sex. They both did, in fact."
"But I can’t be with him, in my belt. Even if I wanted to. It feels wrong. After all he did, or passively allowed to happen to me. If he can’t be with me, how can it be enough that he abandons Elise?"
"My dear innocent Nadia. You don't need to be unbelted to be with him. This is not about you receiving pleasure, but you giving it. You can offer your body in more ways than what the belt denies. If you collect his essence, either with your mouth, your hands or even your feet, plus a kiss on a date. Be together for a week, not a single night. That would count. You would be unlocked. Drinking a cocktail in front of him, given by him, would be a huge leap to seduce him, open doors which then become easy to walk through. I can arrange with him, and very convincingly, to serve you with a drink."
A silence settled between them. The kind that cracked the air. Nadia looked down at her hands, still faintly trembling. She thought of Camelia. The dance, being in her warm arms. Her smile. Alexandru was in the past. She had seen sides of him which she didn't want to see again. She couldn't be with him, not anymore.
Evelyn's voice turned to silk. "You never know until you swallow. And forever, my dear, is a long time to remain locked and orgasm-denied. Maybe find the girl and ask her how difficult it really is to drink it."
"It was disgusting. It didn’t look as if she had an easy time. And I don’t think I could be with Alex. Not anymore, not after how he enjoyed my ordeals." Nadia stated.
"Oh Nadia. Suffering for someone you love can be the sweetest gift you can give. And enjoying your lover enduring for you can be such a deep connection. But let’s not rush things," Evelyn mused. "We wouldn’t want you making rash decisions, now would we?"
Nadia clenched her jaw, her body rigid. Evelyn was toying with her, drawing this out for her own amusement. But she had no choice. If she wanted to be free of this torment, she had to play along.
Evelyn stepped back, picking up her wine glass once more. "You’ll know soon enough what I have in store for you. But for now, I suggest you get used to your new reality. I’m enjoying your languishing pussy too much. Who knows? Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate it, too."
As if on command her Rings of Eternal Longing pulsed, grabbing her nipples. A moan escaped her lips as she felt a gush of wetness in her apex soon after. Nadia’s fists trembled at her sides. She wanted to scream, to demand freedom, or at least an answer. But she knew it would get her nowhere. Evelyn held all the power here, and she would give nothing away until it suited her.
Swallowing her pride, her anger, and her sheer desperation, Nadia turned on her heel and stormed out of the office, her mind a whirlwind of speculation and dread.
Evelyn watched her go, taking a slow sip of her wine. Her thoughts churned, considering the next steps. Nadia had come here thinking she had options, but the truth was, Evelyn had already decided her fate. There would be no negotiations. Only carefully placed choices, each leading Nadia exactly where she wanted her.
And soon, very soon, Nadia would find herself standing at the precipice of a challenge she could not refuse.