She poured the black, hot liquid into the mug, her smile slightly twisted with an evil grin. Madam Mary, the new dominatrix of the domain, wanted her coffee black, with nothing added.
She took the mug in her hand and began to walk out of the kitchen, toward the large office, making small steps on her stretched purple short, very short latex dress, strolling on high heels platform sandals, heels clicking on the hardwood flooring.
She reached the closed door. She knocked and awaited an answer.
“Yes?” said the firm spoken voice of Madam Mary.
“It’s Karen. I have your coffee, Madam.”
“Come in.” she ordered.
Karen opened the door and strutted along, exaggerating her hips movements, looking like those caricatural all body no brain sexy girls.
Madam was sitting behind her computer, turning her back at her, while Annah was sitting at another computer, sideway to Madam. She was browsing the internet to find new equipment to add to the medical center.
She reached the desk and put it down, smiling, bending only at her hips, protruding her tightly encased butt outward.
“I hope it’s to your liking, Madam” said Karen.
“Well, how hard could it be to make a simple, plain, black coffee.” said Madam Mary, taking the mug and taking a rather large sip.
Karen was smiling at first, but right now, she knew that this would end badly. Mistress usually just soaks her lips in it to taste it, not taking a full gulp.
Madam Mary’s eyes went wide as she threw her head backward while she spit the black coffee all over her desk, with a disgusting grin.
“That is disgusting! What the fuck is that?” she said, coping with the aftertaste.
“I’m sorry!!!” quickly said Karen, grabbing nearby tissue and beginning to wipe the mess of coffee.
“What the hell whas that, did…” she said, tasting what was left in her mouth. “Did you put SALT in this?”
“No… I mean, yes, but I didn’t want to… I mean no… well.” stutter Karen, while taking tissue after tissue to sponge the coffee off Madam’s desk, documents and even her tight jeans.
Annah muffled a giggle.
“You knew about that, Annah?” asked Madam Mary, eyes throwing darts.
Annah quickly recomposed herself.
“I’m sorry Madam, it’s just that we sort of… suggested to Karen NOT to do it, and we took bets on how you would react.”
“Bets? By giving me salted coffee? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“No, Madam. Sorry. It’s just that Karen had this prank she used…”
“Shhhhh.” was saying Karen, gesturing Annah to stop talking.
“Karen, YOU shut up. Go on, Annah. I’m all ears…”
“Yes, madam.” she said, putting her arms on the desk, her tight white latex creaking. “So, Karen has this prank she plays with Mistress. She would screw up her coffee, by adding salt, putting too much sugar, serving it cold, making tea instead of coffee, anyways, all that so that Karen would be punished. Mistress would usually put her into a straightjacket or a hobble chain, or a gag, her smallest corset, etc. Karen well… just like those sorts of predicaments, and she was giving a reason for Mistress to do them.”
“And you thought I would do the same, Karen?”
“Yes, Madam. I’m sorry. It all started very gradually with Mistress, first by an honest mistake. It then grew step by step. I just got… caught in the game. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, I bet you are. So you want to be tied up. Very well. You clean up that mess, then you will go and get your tightest, most restrictive, full latex suit, complete with hood, your ballet boots, gag harness and blindfold and the suitcase of rope and come back here with all of it. Is that satisfactory?” she said with an evil smile.
“Yes Madam.” said Karen. She knew better than to argue that she was doing that for a light bondage. This will be a wee bit heavier than what she anticipated.
She got more cleaning towels, redid Madam’s coffee the right way and cleaned the mess. Hopefully, none of Madam’s important papers were soaked. Then she headed for her room to change.
She looked into her large walk-in closet to choose. Which one was exactly her most restrictive catsuit? The only one she could think of was her thick neck entry catsuit, which was almost impossible to put on alone, but was totally impossible to take off alone. It was the tightest of all her catsuits, had attached feet and gloves, but it also included non-removable large and rigid dildos. Two of them.
They were more disturbing than pleasurable, since very large and totally rigid and lifeless.
She lubed herself and proceeded to put on the thick and tight catsuit, one leg at a time, then the hard part, pulling the torso up while feeding the dildos in, while her hips were getting squeezed.
She moaned as the intruders, one after the other, found their way inside her, almost popping into place. Breath shaking, she pulled the rest of the suit, struggled like hell to get her arms inside the sleeves and finally pull it over her shoulders.
It slid in place with the funny sound of the last pockets of air leaving with a fart noise. She moved her limbs around, feeling the tight rubber falling into place, the pressure getting even, everywhere. No tugging. No pulling. The joy of a neck entry catsuit.
She then took the hood. It was a thick, molded hood with a zipper at the back. She put it on. It was a tight fin, immediately rendering her almost deaf, leaving two holes for the eyes, two small holes for the nostrils, and a mouth hole.
She struggled to put the rather large yoke of the hood inside the collar of the catsuit, making a smooth transition, pretty much invisible.
She sat on the edge of her latex covered bed and picked her heelless ballet boots and proceeded to lace them tightly on her legs. They were knee high, made from the finest leather and fit her perfectly.
She loved the feeling of her feet and lower leg, getting gradually encased into the soft leather, getting tighter and tighter as she laced them.
She stretched her legs sideway, admiring the look of the long tube running down her shiny leg. She was hot!
She walked back to her closet to pick the last items Madam Mary asked for: her head harness ball gag, which she put on, pushing the large rubber ball deep inside her mouth before fastening it. She then grabbed a blindfold, and the rope pack, a suitcase filled with ropes.
She walked back to the office, nervous.
What did she put herself into this time? She thought.
“Who is it?” asked Madam Mary.
Karen couldn’t answer, as she was gagged. She slightly opened the door to show her latex covered gagged face.
“Ah, Karen. Yes, come in.” she said, smiling as Karen entered, easily walking on her extreme boots.
“Very nice.” she said, turning around Karen who was standing still, a few meters from the desk. “Neck entry, no zipper… Oh. Not even a relief zipper?” she said, probing the area with her hands, easily finding the dildos.
“Dildos?” she asked. Karen nodded.
“Attached? Non-removable?” she asked again. Karen nodded again.
Karen nodded no.
Karen nodded yes.
“I see. Too big to be comfortable?”
Another yes nod.
“And the suit, thick and very tight?” she said, feeling the rubber around Karen’s shoulders.
She nodded yes again.
“Yes, I can feel it.” she said, as she ran her fingers, from Karen’s shoulders, down her upper arm, feeling the wrinkles at her elbow, down to her hands, switching to her tightly squeezed torso, to her squashed breasts.
Karen was shivering. Madam was knowing exactly what her fingers were doing. The touch, the pressure, the speed, the movements, were all amplified by the latex, sending her shivers of pleasure, and frustration at the same time. She sure knew how to tease.
“That should do it.” she said, with a devilish smile. “Is that the rope?” she asked, pointing the suitcase, and taking it off Karen’s hand.
Karen didn’t answer. She didn’t have to, Madam had already opened the suitcase and marveled at the choice.
“Wow. Even sorted by length. Okay…” she said, looking at Karen. “What to do now?”.
She was turning around Karen, like trying to find inspiration,
She picked a length of rope and began to wrap Karen’s breasts, with an intricate criss-crossing pattern, going around her shoulders, to the back, to the front again, then going through the crotch and up the back again.
With another length, she proceeded to wrap her hips and her waist, linking everything to the breast and crotch ropes.
She took Karen’s arms and began pulling her elbows together, getting tighter as she wrapped her elbows, followed by her wrists.
Already, Karen could feel that this would be a very tight harness, and movements will be minimum.
She asked Karen to step on a bench, putting her about half-way between the floor and the ceiling.
She passed a rope through a ring on the ceiling and tied it back to their body harness, between her shoulder blades.
She stepped down from her own bench before quickly getting back on it and looked at Karen’s gag harness. She undid the buckles and re-did them, much to Karen’s dismay, two notches tighter.
She could feel the harness pressing hard on her head, the gag pulled deeper in her mouth. This would not be comfortable.
She snapped the blindfold in place, putting Karen in the dark.
Karen felt Madam tying up her knees, tightly, followed by her ankles. She wouldn’t move much.
“Very well. Now, Karen, bend your knees until you’re fully suspended from the harness. Slowly… that’s it.” she said, as Karen put all her weight on the rope harness.
It had been well done, spreading the suspension strain over her shoulders, chest, waist and her crotch, pushing on her hard dildos.
She moaned, but she continued. She knew what was coming, and as soon as she felt suspended, she lifted her feet off the bench.
Immediately, without any chances to come back, Madam Mary pulled out the bench, leaving Karen suspended in mid air.
“There you go, Karen.” said Madam Mary. “You wanted to be tied up. How’s that?”
Karen could only moan. She tried to do it sort of neutral. If she was sounding of dissatisfaction, she would get a heavier predicament the next time for complaining, and if she sounded satisfied, it meant that it wasn’t heavy enough. She hoped that, by staying neutral, it would stay like that. No more. But how do you moan… neutral?
“Very nice, Karen. Well, enjoy it.” said Madam, under the wide eyes of Annah who witnessed the whole scene. Under Madam’s stare, she went back to browse her websites, as Madam went back to her computer to work.
Karen stayed there, as if she had a choice, slowly balancing, sometimes moaning, sometimes grunting, but mostly, in silence.
A short while later, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” said Madam.
“It’s Brigitte, Madame. I’m here for the duzting?”
“Yes, Brigitte. Come in. I will have to take a closer look at your schedule. I shouldn’t be disturbed that much.” said Madam.
“Yes Madam.” said Brigitte as she began dusting the office, strutting in sky high high heels pumps and in her little latex french maid outfit.
When she got to Karen, she began to dust her off too.
“Madame wantz everyzing spotty clean.” she said with her very strong french accent. “Including the uzeless pieze of decorative items.” she said, dusting Karen.
Evidently, she found a tickling spot. Karen responded by high pitch laugh and bending her legs, which caused her to swing.
“Ooo. You are ticklisze! How about here?” said Brigitte, moving the duster higher, under her arm.
Karen whined some more, again with a muffled high pitch noise.
By then, they had already disturbed Madam Mary and Annah who had stopped working and were staring at them.
“You zound like that robot, Arre-Too, Dee-Too.” said Brigitte.
It triggered another series of high pitch sounds, which did sounded like R2-D2 or BB-8.
That was enough for Madam Mary. With a deadpan tone, she added, keeping it in the Star Wars theme:
“I find your lack of silence disturbing.” spoofing Darth Vador in a classic scene of Episode 4.
Annah went wide eyes, and couldn’t help saying, under her breath “Uh, Ho…”. She knew that something bad, or was it right, was going to happen.
“What zid you say, Madam?” asked a puzzled Brigitte.
“You continue dusting but you do NOT leave the room. I’ll be right back.” said Madam, leaving the room in a rush.
“Uh… Okay”. Said Brigitte. “Did I say something wrong? We were just having some fun.” she said, sort of questioning Annah who knew better than to answer.
A few minutes later, Madam Mary was back, carrying a bunch of steel rods and accessories. She went to the wall, next to Karen , and screwed two bases, one at neck height, the other at ankle height, then began to assemble a frame, resembling tennis rackets.
“Brigitte, come here.” she said.
Brigitte complied, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor, making tiny steps.
Madam grabbed her by the shoulder, turned her around, and wrapped her arms into a tight leather armbinder.
“Vat are you doing, Madam? Did I do zometzing rong?”
“Yes, you talk too much.” said Madam Mary, stuffing a large panel gag on Brigitte’s mouth, covering it and rendering it silent in no time. She fastened it tightly at the back of her head.
She then added a blindfold, rendering her blind.
Brigitte moaned, a little protest about the gag and the blindfold being too tight, but Madam couldn’t care less.
She took Brigitte by the shoulders and backed her to the frame, her neck and ankles entering the “opened rackets”. She added another rod at the front of each “racket”, trapping her neck and her ankles into its rigid frame.
Brigitte was stuck inside two square frames, one circling her neck, the other circling her ankles, at about 40cm off the wall, arms in an armbinder on her back. She couldn’t move much, couldn’t bend, couldn’t move her legs in any direction. That was simple yet effective.
Madam stepped back and looked at the results: two latex dressed ladies, one suspended, the other rigidly fixed. Two wonderful useless decorative items, like Brigitte said.
She clicked her high heels back to her desk, wiggling her butt tightly encased in very tight jeans, and sat at the computer, browsing the next site she would order from.
After a very long moment, she said out loud, only to Annah, who was now browsing FetLife.
“Ah, the sound of silence. Ain’t that great, Annah?”
Annah opened her mouth to answer, but held her thoughts.
Her brain was racing. Would Madam Mary punish her for answering because , by doing so, she would have broken the silence, or should she kept silence, and by doing so, not answering one of Madam’s questions.
She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. If only Madam would look at her, she would nod, but it was as if she was doing it on purpose, staring at her computer screen, a devilish grin on her face.
© Pete / monsterp63, 30, January, 2019
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