Chapter IV
She looked around and could see no one. How did she get here? Where was here?
Why was it so dark? She tried to move but could not. Her body was held rigid by
something wrapped tight around her, pinning her arms and legs down. She tried
to call for help but her mouth was gagged. She twisted and turned, rolling on
the cold floor as she fought to escape. Suddenly a bright light shone over her,
blinding her completely. As her eyes got used to the light she tried to see who
was there, but she could not see past the lights. All she could see was the
black and white checker of the tiled floor she was lying on. The floor seemed
to go on for ever, disappearing into a black horizon. Her body was wrapped in
black a shiny rubber tube, covering her from neck to toes. It was the rubber
that had kept her from moving. Several ominous looking wires came out next to
her feet and disap- peared into the shadows. Suddenly a voice boomed loudly.
"Mademoiselle Gaumont! We know you have been hiding english POW's in your shed!
What have you done with them?" A shiver of fear went down her spine. The
Gestapo! How had they discovered her? She tried to profess her innocence but
she could not speak through the gag. Again the voice boomed. "I said, where are
the POW's? It would be difficult for you if you don't co-operate! Speak whore!"
Again she tried to reply but the gag prevented it. What was going on? Couldn't
they see that she was unable to reply? "Very well, have it your way. Hit it
Hans" Suddenly small electrical shocks coursed through her body. They had
inserted electrodes into her sex and anus! Another two were placed over her
nipples. She had expected to be tortured but instead the electricity felt like
several fingers coursing over her skin. The sen- sation was gorgeous and she
moaned in pleasure as the electricity flowed through her. Suddenly it stopped!
"Had enough yet?" asked the voice. "We can go on for the whole day, we've
plenty of time. Ready to be more co-operative?" She could just shake her head
and try to thrust her jaws towards the light. "I'm gagged you fools!" she tried
to shout. Again the electricity flowed, slightly stronger this time. It just
heightened the pleasure. For several seconds she rolled over the floor,
wriggling and squirming as thousands of little finger caressed her. As she was
about to reach orgasm the fingers disappeared. She was panting heavily through
her nose, the shiny rubber squirming and bulging as her ribs strained against
the tight surface. Already she could feel little pools of sweat form under the
rubber. She rolled onto her stomach, forcing her breasts into the hard floor.
She could just make out the pressure of the metal clips on her nipples. They
should hurt, and yet they did not. Suddenly another voice spoke. "Mademoiselle,
I know this hurts. Surely you realize that you have no choice but to
co-operate?" The voice was soothing and reason- able, but she was not fooled.
They were playing bad nazi, good nazi. "Are you prepared to talk?" the soothing
voice asked. Again she shook her head, trying to make them under- stand. Again
the shocks returned. This time it was even stronger, making her groan in
pleasure as it coursed through her. She squirmed and rolled, groaning and
moaning through the gag. It felt so goooood! She arched her back, trusting her
breasts and hips into the air in pleasure. She could feel the climax coming,
closer and closer till she was just about to... and the electricity
disappeared. She screamed in frustration - that was so close! She tried to roll
over to the light, trying to reach the little button that would send her over
the edge. She could hear the men laughing at her desperate attempts. Suddenly a
black leather boot flashed behind the light, collided with her ribs and sent her
rolling back to the center of the spotlight. Her ribs were bruised, but it was
nothing in comparison to the throbbing in her sex. She could see her nipples
through the rubber, their hard shapes forming bumps in the smooth surface. This
time they didn't even ask the questions, they just gave her all they got, and
as she distantly heard them laughing she finally succumbed to a pink haze of
pleasure.
Sharon stood in the shower and absent-mindedly soaped her body. She'd survived
her first week in the suit and she'd began to despair that she'd spend the rest
of her life in it. She'd hoped her captor would contact her, explaining his
intentions and setting his terms. After all, why do this and then disappear.
The possibility made her cringe and she refused to consider it. But the
question remained, what was his plans? Suddenly she got angry with herself.
What did she care what his plans were? Why should she sit around waiting for
his demands? She wasn't his slave, his possession. He could go to hell for all
she cared. She should refuse to be intimidated by him. She should get on with
her life. This was the 90's, not the middle ages. A woman's body, soul and mind
was her own. The bastard had violated her and he should pay! Why even think of
him? What did he have that she wanted? Why be bothered by him? She looked down
at her shiny hard breast covered with soapy suds and her spirits sank down to
her feet. That's why. Because of the suit. His slave? Certainly. She wasn't
chained but he sure controlled her. Her body was his, and she was beginning to
wonder about her mind. Intimidate her? She squeezed her breasts from the sides.
Definitely. Anybody with the power and money to construct this should be
feared. She shivered and tried to forget the whole thing. She concentrated on
cleaning herself. She'd discovered that a nail brush seemed to work best.
Although the bristles was too thick to penetrate the fine weave, it did make
the suit move slightly. The soapy water would penetrate under the solid
sections as she scrubbed and cleaned those parts she could get to. She was
scrubbing her sides when she happened to glance under her arms. It had been a
week since she'd shaved and yet no stubble was showing. She ran her hands down
her legs. They were smooth as well. Apparently her body had been treated with a
permanent exfoliating treatment. Well, she couldn't say she minded, she'd
considered having it done herself. She wondered about her sex, would that be
clear as well? It made sense. After all, the small holes would soon clog up as
her hair fell out. Bet- ter to get rid of it beforehand. That would also explain
the maddening itching she'd experi- enced. Her first period was due to arrive
any day now and she dreaded it. What was the cramps going to be like? The
constant pressure on her waist combined with the dildo in her sex could cause
some serious problems. Could the dildo block her up, preventing the passage of
the blood? She sighed to herself. She would cross that bridge when she came to
it, there was nothing she could do now anyway. She got out of the shower and
dried herself. It took a bit of jumping and twisting to get rid of all the
water trapped under the suit but by now she knew that she could get rid of most
of it. When she'd first realized that her suit contained pockets she'd been
worried that water would get trapped in them. After a week she'd still not
noticed any problems with water so she assumed there was a way for the water to
drain away. As she walked into the bedroom she had to grudgingly admire the
inventor of the suit. It took a lot of knowledge and foresight to think of all
the complications the female body might pose. She noticed the tools standing in
the corner and cursed. What a waste of money that had turned out to be. She'd
bought several items, none of them worth a damn. The hacksaw had not even made
a dent, after an hour of laborious sawing all she'd had gained was a completely
ruined blade. The metal shears were use- less as well, she couldn't squeeze them
closed. The worst disappointment had been the bolt cutter. It's 3 foot handles
had convinced her it would be ideal and she'd bought it ea- gerly. Her
excitement was shattered the moment she'd tried it on the wire, the jaws would
not close properly! The cutter had a very small tolerance between it's teeth,
but it was just enough for the wire to sit unharmed in the gap. She'd tried to
use it on some of the other surfaces, but it was too bulky to get under the
suit. With a disgusted curse she was forced to admit defeat and fling the thing
into the corner (taking a patch of plaster as it bounced off the wall).
As she dried her hair she noticed her computer standing in the corner. With all
that was going on she'd not had chance to surf a bit and she fired it up. It
would be the ideal way to distract herself - something she had to do or she'd
go mad. The past week's nights had been torture as the TV had been unable to
capture her attention fully. Waiting for the computer to boot she finished
drying her hair and dressed in the usual T-shirt. By the time she'd done the
computer was ready and she logged on to the net. She had several mes- sages
waiting for her, most of it spam. She scanned through the messages, killing the
spam with a quiet little curse. A few of her friends said hi, one or two
newsletters sent her their regular updates and an old boyfriend was coming to
town (four days ago). She froze as she came to the end of the list. Somebody
had sent her two messages. The first's subject read 'The basic ground rules'.
With her heart in her throat she opened the mes- sage. It had been sent a day
after she'd first discovered the suit. The sender was 'no- body@anonymous.net'.
She bit her lower lip as she read the message.
1) Do not tell anybody about the unit. 2) Do not try to contact me. 3) Follow
all instructions to the letter. 4) Keep the unit clean. 5) Do not attempt to
leave the city. 6) Check your e- mail daily.
No greeting, no name, nothing personal of any kind. It was the most intimidating
message she'd ever received. The second message was even worse:
From: Nobody@anonymous.net Subj: First instructions.
1) Go to the Post office, retrieve package.
She stared at the screen for a while. The message had been sent on Thursday,
three days ago. She'd hoped to be contacted and now she has. It wasn't what
she'd hoped for. She sat back and looked out her window. The messages were not
only bland and rude, they were arrogant. She imagined the person sending them
and shuddered as the image of a stuffy military general sprang to mind. She
leaned back in the chair and rubbed her eyes. The messages had several
implications and not all of them bad. First was the fact that she'd been
contacted. One of her greatest fears had been that this would turn out to be a
single, almost random act of malicious madness. She could well imagine someone
being sadistic enough to do this to her and then leave her to live out a life in
misery. Al- though the possibility was still there, it seemed unlikely.
Obviously there was more to come. Second was that her tormentor knew exactly
who she was and what would be the best way to contact her. That canceled the
random theory. Finally there was the knowl- edge that someone else was involved.
Until now it had been just her and the suit, now a third person was part of her
secret. Although she'd always knew he was out there, his message had a
comforting effect. Now she could feel another's presence, she could al- most
sense his touch. Her life was no longer just about her and the suit. She cursed
as she realized her body had betrayed her again! What the hell was going on?
Whenever something bad happened she got horny! It was so bad that she could
barely inspect her- self in the mirror, the mere sight of the metal and her
breasts would start throbbing! Why was her body reacting in this way? Sighing
in exasperation she launched the browser, she'd better find something to
distract her or she'd have to go through hell again.
Sharon woke early on Monday morning and started the arduous task of preparing
for work. She'd soon realized that she'd have to modify her usual patterns in
order to accom- modate her new lifestyle. The most irritating change was that
she'd have to wake up half an hour earlier than what she used to. She'd always
been a notorious and chronic over- sleeper, but with the suit she could no
longer afford to rush out of her flat in a mad flurry. Besides taking longer to
do the usual ablutions (she still wasn't completely used to the wire) she'd
also need to take greater care with her cleansing routine. Getting rid of the
water alone took her much longer than just a normal toweling. Selecting a frilly
little blouse (fuck she hated them, they looked so prim) she quickly dressed
and got ready to leave. At least she felt comfortable enough to wear a tight
pencil skirt. After all, why go through all the aches and pains if she can't
even show off her flat new stomach and thin waist? Fi- nally she set off, ready
to face a new day.
During her lunch hour she swung by the post office. After a long search she'd
discovered the parcel's notification in a stack of unread junk mail - tucked
inside a brochure for camping goods of all things. She'd been relatively calm
about the parcel until she stood in the queue in the post office. As she slowly
neared the counter her anxiety grew. What would it contain? What could he
possibly be sending her? Would she want it if she knew? What would happen if
she refused to take it, simply ignoring the instructions? The loud, constant
thumping of a stamp on paper was getting on her nerves. Couldn't they find a
better way of making their mark on a document than violently hitting it with
rubber stamp? Finally she reached the front, her nerves frayed to the breaking
point. A thin little man was standing behind the counter and she almost
giggled. He was the complete image of the gray bureaucrat, down to the little
bowtie and shiny oiled hair. He did not even look up as she slid the stub under
the window, his attention focused on his work. Without a word he turned around
and disappeared. She waited nervously as he appeared a few moments later,
carrying a brown parcel about the size of a shoe box. Sliding the stub under the
win- dow he waited for her signature before handing it over. She left the post
office, carrying the parcel as if it was a bomb.
Sharon entered her apartment and threw the keys on the kitchen counter. Carrying
the parcel she placed it on the bed and kicked off her shoes. She'd avoided the
parcel the whole day, not wanting to open it at the office. She needed to keep
her composure at work - that bastard of a boss was still watching her like a
hawk. If the parcel contained some- thing unpleasant he'd notice her distraction
immediately. Finally she sat down on the bed and looked the parcel over. It was
neatly wrapped in brown paper, the seams perfectly straight. The post marks
indicated that it had been sent from the large central post office in the heart
of the city. With her heart in her throat she opened the paper wrapping and
looked at the nondescript white shoebox. Finally she took a deep breath and
removed the lid.
The box contained several items, none of which she immediately recognized. First
of was a sealed plastic bag, containing some kind of garment, neatly folded
into a square. Next was a small black box with several holes. Then there was
another sealed plastic bag with what seemed to be a jumble of wires inside.
Finally there was a note. Deciding to keep the note till last she opened the
bag with the garment. She was very surprised to see that it was a standard
bathing costume, with one small modification. All around the seams clear
plastic wings had been added. She immediately realized that the wings were meant
to be tucked in under the suit, keeping the suit covered beneath the fabric of
the costume. The costume was pitch black and fit the dimensions of her suit
exactly. The only part that was larger was the seat of the costume, following
the traditional line rather than the g-string wire of her suit. A solid plastic
zip ran up along the spine to a high collar that closed with velcro. She
realized that she could wear the costume and not a single part of the suit
would be visible. Quickly she stood up and faced the mirror. Stepping into the
open back she pulled the costume up until it fit snugly over the suit. She
tucked the clear plastic wings under the seams of the suit and closed the
collar. It took a bit of a struggle but she finally managed to close the zipper
and she looked herself over. The effect was startling. She looked completely
normal! She pulled and tugged at the costume, but the wings held it in place.
There was no way that the suit could be revealed as the wings kept the seams
lined up. She stepped close to the mirror and marveled how natural it looked.
The small bumps on her breasts showed where her nipples would have been and it
looked com- pletely natural. The dome between her legs was invisible, the
contours following the natu- ral lines of her body. Stepping back she inspected
her rear as well. The zipper masked the broad strip up her back, hiding it from
view. The feeling was more powerful than she'd ex- pected and she realized how
much she missed her freedom. Seeing herself in a 'natural' state made her
realize how much she'd always taken it for granted. She could not stop looking
at herself! How she longed to peel the costume off her body, seeing her own
flesh and blood beneath the thin fabric. She stroked her hand down her stomach
and immedi- ately the illusion vanished. Under the innocent black costume was
hard unyielding metal. With the spell broken she sat down and inspected the
rest of the contents. The small box was about as long as her hand and had
several small lights on top. At the one end was the standard hole that a power
cable plugged in. Several small holes lined the one side of the box, neatly
numbered from one to eight. Each number had a corresponding little light with a
ninth light at the end. Unable to determine the purpose of the box she moved on
to the next item. She opened the bag and two items tumbled out. She immediately
recog- nized the power cable, it was obviously meant to plug into the box. Next
was a long, thin wire, ending in a small plastic triangle. On the inside of the
triangle was three small copper points. On the other end of the wire was a
small plug, clearly meant for one of the holes in the box. She inspected the
triangle and with a sinking feeling realized where it was meant to go. The
three copper points would fit perfectly into the three holes at the bottom of
the suit. Obviously the whole arrangement was meant to power something inside
the suit, maybe the dildo! Deciding to be cautious she ignored the temptation
to plug herself in and moved on to the note. It was as short and rude as the
e-mail.
Instructions for use: 1) Electrodes to be inserted every night without fail.
Latest 3 am. 2) Continuous electrical current to be supplied until 5 am
earliest. 3) Keep all units dry at all times.
The note was typed on a normal white sheet of paper, no signature. No mention
was made of the bathing suit. No indication was given as to the purpose of the
black box. As usual the instructions supplied more questions than answers. In
exasperation Sharon stood up and walked to the kitchen to make dinner. She
decided to keep on wearing the bathing suit, it made her feel better.
The rest of the night was spent in anxious anticipation. Over the last week
she'd slowly and laboriously regained control of her composure, and she'd
thought she had it under control. The package ruined that theory. She was
nervous and excited at the same time, not knowing what was going to happen. The
E-Mail system had supplied her with no fur- ther clues and her imagination ran
rampant. As she lay on the couch she realized that she was again incredibly
horny, her body responding to her nerves in the most traitorous way possible.
She closed her eyes and slowly slid her hands up and down her breasts, trying
to remember what it used to feel like. Soon she was so frustrated she couldn't
hold it any more and she stormed to the bedroom. She removed the bathing suit
and gathered the other equipment. She quickly plugged the box into the wall
socket and the ninth light came on. Next she plugged the wire into the first
hole. For a few moments she stood staring at the small triangle. What she was
about to do was foolish, she had no idea what would happen. For heaven's sake,
she might be shocked to death for all she knew! Despite her trepidation she
knew she was going to go through with it, she could already feel her sex
throbbing at the prospect. Oh for the chance of feeling that dildo move! She'd
be over the edge in the blink of an eye. With a little shudder she spread her
legs and applied the little triangle. It clicked home with a faint tick and she
held her breath. Nothing. She fiddled with the triangle - maybe it's not making
contact? Nothing. She switched the power off and on. Nothing. Finally she flung
herself backwards onto the bed, crying in frustration and disap- pointment as
the useless black wire snaked around her leg and into her fork.
After a few minutes she'd calmed down and had to admit that nothing was going to
hap- pen. She sat up and stared at the thin wire. With a disgusted oath she
struggled to pull the triangle from it's holes. It was a tight seal and it took
several oaths and grunts before she could remove it. Looking at it in revulsion
she threw it into a corner. She stormed into the kitchen and vowed never to
wear the damn thing again. She was still fuming when her stomach muscles
suddenly spasmed, frightening her to death! For about three seconds her whole
abdomen had clenched itself into a ball so tight she'd thought her muscles
would tear! The sensation had not been painful, just scary. For a panicky moment
she'd thought something had hit her in the abdomen. She barely had time to
recover when an- other spasm hit, this one stronger and lasting a bit longer. It
forced her to her knees and she groaned as the air was forced out of her lungs.
This time she'd felt the weird sensa- tion of electricity running through her
muscles. When it ended she breathed deeply to calm herself. Something inside
her suit was shocking her, pulling her muscles so tight they spasmed! Still
shocked and dazed she headed back to the bedroom, realizing that she'd not been
supposed to interrupt the power supply. She was still fiddling with the triangle
when the third shock hit her and for the first time she felt pain. When it was
over she ap- plied the triangle and fell back on the bed, too dazed to think
clearly.
