He was waiting outside the bathroom door.
“Are you fucking nuts?” he heard from the other side.
“No, I’m not. So? Will you do it?”
“Surely you’re not serious.” she said.
“I am serious… and don’t call me Shirley.” he said, laughing.
“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.” she said, opening the door enough for her head to peek through. “A little outdated but still funny.” she said.
“Can I see?” he asked, trying to push on the door.
“Nope” she said, slamming it shut under his nose, locking it, giggling. “Not before I’m… her.”
He heard shuffling, struggling, moaning, even a loud thud.”
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” she said, giggling. “I tried to sit on the toilet cover. It was… slippery.” she said, laughing.
He laughed too, picturing the scene: Karen, tightly wrapped in latex, all lubed up, trying to sit on the closed toilet seat and slipping off of it.
“I’m almost done.” she said. “Please, stand back from the door. I want your first impression from a distance.”
He took a couple of steps back.
“When you’re ready,” he said.
She opened the door. He looked at her. He blinked a few times, grinning, before fully realizing it.
“That’s damn perfect! You absolutely look like a doll!!” he said, all smiling.
Karen lowered her head, stretching a leg, looking at the reflection.
“Really? It doesn’t give the impression from… inside.” she said, turning around.
The sun, although low on that late afternoon, was shining on the latex suit, skin colored, although a little pinkish for skin. That was the look sought of: the look of a rubber doll. She was standing on clear high heel platform shoes.
“That is simply perfect. You look like a plastic doll. That will be just awesome.” he said.
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one stuffed with those toys.” she said, putting a hand at her crotch.
“Well, you chose them. You live with them. Turn around.” he said.
She did. The neck entry catsuit was making a perfect seam with the smooth hood with painted false eyes.
He took the pink latex corset and wrapped it around her waist. She helped him lace it in place, very tightly, sucking her stomach in. Only her large breasts, with the painted pink nipple were showing. He presented her with a short skirt and a crop top, all made of latex.
Finally, she stepped on clear platform shoes with a five inches heels.
“You look fantastic.” he said, snapping a few pictures, posting them on their instagram account. “Only one piece missing” he said, producing a gag that snapped over her lips, filling her mouth but also turning it into luscious bright rubber lips. “My turn now.”
He disappeared in the bedroom of the hotel room to come out wearing a latex tuxedo.
“Ready?” he asked, offering his arm to the latex doll.
Moaning was her only answer, but, by the tone of it, he knew it meant “Let’s go have some fun.” She took his arm and walked out of the room, into the corridor, where many others were also getting out of their room, all dressed in latex, leather, spandex, wetsuits, everything that makes a good fetish weekend a success.
They followed the crowd to the hotel’s restaurant, already filled with fetish clad guests. Karen was one of those who attracted the most attention, mainly because it was part of her act that, whenever her lover was stopping, she would take the pose of a plastic doll, as if he was carrying around his own mannequin.
Those who hadn’t seen her move, were surprised when she began walking to follow him, or hearing the very distinctive hum of her vibrating dildos.
They all gathered and seated for the dinner, Karen taking her beloved mannequin pose for a while.
“Hello, I’m Laura, and this is Stephen” said their neighbors from the left, with a british accent. She was in a classic red latex catsuit while he was wearing a leather shirt with leather pants.
“I’m Ingrid and this is Hans” said the woman on his right. Both of them were in black neck entry latex catsuits. She was even in ballet boots.
“Hi. I’m Shirley” said the woman in front of him, hair tightly held into a strict bun, hard make-up and a very dominant attitude in her tight leather jacket and long dress and that’s “and this is sissy Paul.” she said, indicating the obvious man that could be a bodybuilder, dressed as a girl with a puffy pink dress and overdone makeup, mouth filled with a large ballgag.
“Hello. I’m Pete and this is Karen.” he said, Karen obviously giggling, remembering Pete’s earlier joke.
“Pete and Karen?” said Stephen. “Sounds like the characters of those stories we read from the internet.”
“Oh, that’s because, well,” he said, kind of blushing, “I’m the writer.”
“Yeah, right.” said Shirley. “Prove it, or I’ll turn you into a worthless sissy.” she said, without smiling.
“Err… How can I prove it to you?”
“My point exactly.” said Shirley. “I’m gonna have fun with you tonight.”
“And what if I can prove what I’m saying. What’s in it for me?” asked Pete.
“How about tying her up on the X frame for an hour?” suggested Ingrid, pointing at Shirley with her chin.
Shirley smiled. “Yeah, sure. Like that’s gonna happen.”
“Okay, I have an idea. You all have smartphones, I believe?” he said, picking up his, then typing something on it for a few minutes. “Okay, go check the updates on my DA account, now.” he said.
All of them, except Paul, since he had his hands tied in his back, picked their phone and had a sudden stunned look.
“Status update: I would like to say a welcome to Canada to my table neighbors at the restaurant at the Montreal Fetish Weekend: Laura, Stephen, Ingrid, Hans, Paul and Shirley, who I will tie to the X frame later tonight.”
Shirley looked at him in shock.
“No shit!” she said
“I knew it!” said Stephen, all proud.
“WHERE IS HE?” they heard a woman yell from another table, all turning toward her. She was standing up, wearing a shiny purple latex catsuit with a black leather corset, looking around. He couldn’t see her feet, but judging by her stance, they were probably ballet boots.
“WHERE IS HE? PETE! WHERE ARE YOU?” she yelled some more.
“I dunno, but I think she’s looking for you.” said Shirley with a devilish smile, hoping he would get… serviced and she would get out of her situation.
“Well, there’s more than one person named Pete, I’m sure…” said Pete.
The woman looked at her phone. “OKAY, PETE, err… INGRID, STEPHEN… SHIRLEY… WHERE IS THAT GROUP?”
Shirley got up, and made a broad gesture toward Pete.
“HERE! HE’S HERE!” she said, as Pete got up to face her, realizing she was a well known fetish model.
“YOU’RE THE WRITER OF KAREN’S STORIES?” she asked.
“Yes.” said Pete, shyly.
There was a murmur in the room.
People began to applaud. He gently bowed, now knowing what else to do.
“Come see me after dinner. We need to talk.” said the model.
“Will do!” answered Pete.
The model looked at her phone again.
“I don’t know how you got to tie up Shirley, but I want to witness this!” she said, laughing. “That bitch deserves it!!”
He sat down, now exactly knowing what to do, how to react. Shirley was red.
As the food was getting served, he removed Karen’s gag and they kissed.
That would be something to remember.
Shirley seemed disturbed.
© Pete / monsterp63, August 2017
I don’t think I will ever have the guts to attend such an event (or be that famous), but in its honor, I wrote this little piece of self appreciation and overly exaggerated self esteem.
Don’t take that too seriously… I’m not that pretentious. Ask Lady Arsenique.
We are sorry that this post was not interesting for you!
Let us improve this post!
Tell us how we can improve this post?