“Ugh,” Christina groaned as she struggled to wake up from her dreamy state upon the soft satin of her bed sheets upon the 4-poster bed.
Christina fell onto the floor with a bump, after slithering about on the satin bed sheets “Shit! That’s another reason not to have satin bed sheets!” she cried, as she struggled to get up off the floor because of her tightly laced night corset.
As she struggled to stand up, she pulled on the old oak wardrobe door, and it came off its hinges and almost flattened her. “That would have made a nasty mess on my soft ivory carpet.” she thought to herself.
Inside the wardrobe, hanging neatly, are dresses, corsets and catsuits of all types and of all fabrics, but the main fabrics seem to be latex and rubber, and not one pair of trousers. Most of these outfits were very wacky and odd.
“Damn!” she muttered, under her breath, as she grasped onto the bed-pole so she could first sit and then stand with the support of the bed. Christina walked over to the wardrobe door, looked at it, and murmured, “That’s why not to do DIY.” and picked up the door and put it on her bed.
She then walked over to her wardrobe, opened the other door very carefully, fearful that it too may fall off. But it didn’t.
What was in this side of the wardrobe was totally different from the latex and rubber in the first side. These clothes are more elegant and nicer, edging towards the normal, but never quite reaching it. There were long corsets of velvets, satins and taffetas, skirts of silk and elegant brocade dresses.
She stood, inspecting them, as if each one was putting its point forward, rallying to be worn, as she picked one out and then put it back, and finally she settled on a long sleeved satin hobble style corset dress, and laid it on her bed as she delved into her panty draw, and triumphantly pulled out a matching red satin thong, and laid the thong by the side of the dress on her bed.
After she laid them down upon the crumpled satin of her bed-sheets, she picked up a towel off the rail and went into the bathroom to have a shower.
After she came out of the shower she got dressed. Then Christina strolled causally into the kitchen, on the way she slipped on her best red boots then switched off the lights in her bedroom.
As she glided her hands along the cool granite worktop, she started thinking about yesterdays £l .5 million settlement for the near fatal misapplication of a drug. Then she reached the corner, opened the cupboard door and while grabbing a cereal bar and noticing it was the second to last she did up her boots before progressing onto the fridge and grabbing a glass of milk, and slopping some onto the oak floor before opening the reclaimed oak door and walking rapidly into the living room and to her computer desk where she set up her new Apple Mac and boot up her dell laptop.
By the time they were up and online Christina had eaten her breakfast, and started to surf the web for songs for her 250gig ipod and information for her latest cases and for the possibility of a big mass tort. She immediately launched Google, dogpile.co.uk, ask.com and Alta Vista, with a load of legal websites and search engines.
After half an hour she had found no mass torts so she gave up. Christina then decided to give up for the morning on the web.
She locked up, and walked down the hall to the lift, and found it to be out of order, which meant that she would need to go down 8 flights of stairs to her Volvo in the car park, so she started walking the 128 stairs down to the carpark, and jumped the last 6 steps in high heels, without breaking her ankle, a minor miracle in anybody’s book. Then she drove off.
“Perfect by nature, Icons of self indulgence”, rang the lyrics of the evenecence song, and speak of the devil, she thought as her opponent hurtled round the corner, probably the one person she knew that fitted the song perfectly, with her long legs, pneumatic chest and platinum blond hair.
The rivalry was from Cambridge law school, where Christina always had the upper hand over Sophie, and even now she had more, higher paying clients than Sophie, but Sophie had always flaunted her money in front of the supposedly more conservative and straight-laced Christina. If only Sophie could see her after dark!
At that point Christina finally got to and got parked in the office car park. Christina got out, stormed over to the elevator and headed up to her .5rh floor office, going by Cat’s office to bitch about Sophie and her platinum blonde hair.
As she crashed through the door (knocking was not used as they used to be dorm mates) she noticed that Cat was on the phone, using ‘Sir’, which usually indicated that she was either talking to a boss or a client, so she quietly sat down on one of the leather seats by the desk to wait as Cat closed the conversation in whispered tones and put the phone down.
“I saw that bitch today!” blew off Christina referring to Sophie.
“I heard that she got a promotion.” gossiped Cat, in a whisper as if afraid that Sophie was just around the corner.
“No way!” screeched Christina, almost shaking with anger “Who did she screw for that!”
“Don’t be so judgemental.” Said Cat, shocked at the fact that she had just defended her enemy from law school and blown off her best friend “Maybe she’s just good, or her father’s just pulled a few strings and made the bosses a bit uncomfortable” finished Cat plausibly.
“I still prefer my theory, but yours is more plausible.” Stated Christina as she cooled off.
“Yeh, but yours was more fun!” replied Cat jovially.
“So, I’ll see you at the club tonight?” asked Christina cautiously.
“Probably not.” Replied Cat lethargically, and with that and an incoming phone call, Christina left quietly and retreated into the safety of her own office.
As she slumped into the soft leather seat she sighed. If her tremendous workload didn’t slow down, it would cripple her mentally, and as she set to work she mumbled “No rest for the wicked.” absentmindedly.
At 5 O’clock sharp Christina had tidied her desk, downloaded her files onto the ipod to work on from home and shutting down her computer and by 5:30 she was home and getting ready to go out.
Christina walked out of the bathroom with the usual assortment of towels over her as she walked over to the bed where she had laid out a heart stopping, eye-popping outfit consisting of a neck corset, a lockable corset reaching down over the thighs and an ankle hobble skirt, with a pair of 6 inch healed boots and a thong, all in black latex.
When she arrived to the club, heads didn’t turn, as you would probably have expected, but this was no ordinary club. She was probably one of the tamest there. People there were dressed up in all sorts, there were ‘rubber mares’, people with permanent modifications, like longer spines or no arms. Many of the patrons were in corsets, and the central ‘exhibit’ was a woman in a corset from head to toe, compressed every ware, and with a waist of 12 inches and a pipe stem of 5 inches. But there was one exhibit that beat them all, and Christina had watched it, it was the woman who had been permanently turned into a manikin in front of a large crowd, for ever to be looked at and adored, and to be tortured by the fact that she could never escape or stimulate her self, a price she thought was worth paying, but we will never know, since we can’t ask her.
All the time Christina was there, she was being watched, her movements plotted and the plan staged.
So after a night of non-alcoholic partying, she went home and into an immediate deep slumber, dreaming of fantasies, of which few apart from Cat knew about.
The next day Christina woke up without a hitch. It was her day off and so she wore something more adventurous than her normal work are, so she slipped into her latest corset, which was lace less, and made of a Teflon mix that was inflatable, and includes a compressor to inflate it. Once it was inflated, the Medici auto corset increased in size so she just slipped it over her head, and pulled the valve that let the air out, and so it attempted to return to its original waist size of 6 inches, since it was the punishment version, and it crushed from the neck to the thighs, and then she put on the neck corset that went with it. This outfit made her ridged from her chin to her knees, and thus unable to sit down normally, but she had planned for this when she ordered the Medici auto corset and so she dragged the laptop over with the cables, hooked it up to the ethnet port that she had installed into the sofa.
First she went shopping, and bought some e-books that she put on her palm and burnt to the 25 gig mini hard disk drive, measuring only 5x5mm, in several formats including PDF and Microsoft reader, and audio formats. Then she surfed for some movies and burnt them onto her 10 DVD combi burner stack in the other room next door, and when that task had finished, she had downloaded 50 films, which would have taken for ever apart from the fact that she owned a bundle of broadband fibres. Next she bought some songs from the reformed Napster and apple.com, and ordering groceries including her favourite cereal bars, getting some more burn-able media, then moving onto the swarofski shop, and spending £3000 on the cut crystal.
While she was doing this, she was being watched through the cameras installed in her room by the owners of the building, being controlled by a hacker known only as ‘the one’, and the one was also watching what she had searched for, and what her net logs brought up.
Finally she went fetish clothing shopping, getting a new vac bed, several corsets, dresses and some boots. This shopping spree cost over £100000, and since she had never been in the red, her bank manager was not concerned, as she had never been any ware near the red, and nor did he need to, as her bank account had £1.5 million from her last mass tort cases.
After a quick lunch from pizza hut (a pepperoni pizza), she started to update her websites on Aracnophillia HTML editor while listening to Fallen by Evenescence. Then she phoned up Cat and made sure that the night was going ahead, and got the news that Sophie was marrying the owner of the club that they were going to. Maybe they weren’t the only ones with a darker side!
At 5 O'clock, 3 hrs after she could have taken it off, she finally took the corset off, before heading for another outfit, consisting of a corset, the same length as her last one, an extremely vicious neck corset including a built in gag, with a tube for drinking through, a pair of 5 inch heeled boots with a chain through both heals to restrict the stride and a pair of wrist manacles. For the walk to the car, she decided to omit the neck corset and steel ware until she was in the car with Cat.
As Christina climbed into the car Cat spoke in an almost apologetic tone "I'll need to get home sooner than I had planned, I'm afraid."
"It's OK, I'll just need to get a cab home then." Replied Christina rapidly.
"I'm sorry." Apologised Cat meekly.
"Its ok," spoke Christina "but can you please help me get these things on?" referring to the neck corset and steel ware on her belly, as the chair was flat to let Christina not go through the hassle of tight-lacing at the club.
"Yeh, sure." Spoke Cat nervously.
The rest of the journey was healed in restrained silence because of the assortment of jewellery the girls were wearing, and when they split up, and that was the last time Christina saw Cat ever again.
As Christina wandered around the exhibits someone was watching her, planning, plotting knowingly, and that person ordered the spiking of her drink of the house special, a kick in the teeth (a mix of lemon, lime and carbonated water) that she drank through the tube in her gag, and in 10 min she had fainted in the toilets, on the floor. In 5 more min her shackles were connected to the roof of a transit van and she was blindfolded.
Half an hour before she woke up, she was dragged and tied up to a bar to wake up.
When she finally woke up, she attempted to call out and then to scream, but she was stopped by the gag in her neck corset. How ironic, she thought. The main thing that she had worn to show her freedom was preventing her from keeping it, and escaping from this prison.
As she struggled against her bonds, she heard somebody walking round her, inspecting her, viewing her from all sides. She guessed that it was a man from the fact that she could not hear any heals clicking on the floor. Christina struggled harder, hoping that this was her knight in shining armour, but a gruff (she was right, it was a man) voice answer her rattling “Don’t struggle, it wont help your situation.” Said the voice out from the darkness.
“So, she’s awake then.” Spoke a younger voice from her left.
“Yeah, do you think that I would be speaking to her if she wasn’t!” The gruff voice spoke indignantly.
“Sorry Boss, of course you wouldn’t, boss” Spoke the younger one, afraid of a backlash.
“You Moron!” Screeched the Boss loudly “why don’t you just tell her all our names and the entire plot!”
“Well, I’m Johnny, and were going to… ” Johnny started, but did not get time to finish, as he was cut up by the boss hurling abuse “Not literally you moron! I was just being sarcastic!” he blared out in a never ending crescendo, echoing off the walls.
From the sound of his footsteps, Johnny was retreating as fast as he could, without getting another barrage from the Boss.
So she was left there, hanging, swaying near the psychotic man known only as ‘The Boss’. Then even he left the room, and Christina was left wondering why she was here, who ‘the Boss’ is and why he chose HER!
Her mind was reeling with answers to the questions, was he Sophie’s new husband to be, following out orders from Sophie to seek revenge? Was it a rivals plot to stop her before it was too late, as greed was a major factor in becoming a layer, or was it a fireman, who thought she was getting too close to the secret he was hiding for some corporation? These all seemed plausible, but not one rung true.
She slowly drifted off, and some time later, she woke up to the sound of footsteps. It was the Boss and what she guessed to be 5 or 6 lackeys. They circled her like jackals, whispering to one another about an “isolation tank”, and then she was rapidly sedated with miraculous accuracy.
When she awoke, she panicked. She had on what felt like a modified gas mask, and she couldn’t move. This didn’t make her freak out, if anything it turned her on, it was more the fact that she seemed to be floating.
She started to go mad, as there was no time, space or distance to judge her existence on, and slowly she mutated into a slug of human pupae, weak and wrinkled, sustained only by the drip in her arm.
After some time Christina was hauled out, incoherent and confused. When she finally came to her senses, she started to struggle. They underestimated her majorly, and she soon had an arm free from her captors, freed her leg, and then utilised them to free her other limbs. She spun at horrific speed, her limbs colliding with random objects, animated and non-, in equal measure, drunkenly swinging as if it were some kind of ballet vertiton of the final battle of Macbeth. Finally after one of the men pulled upon her supporting ankle, whisking her off her feet, and throwing her on her back like a pro.
In a couple of seconds, they were all up, surrounding her, and jumping on her, cuffing her arms and stretching her legs to stop her from struggling. Christina’s struggling finally stopped, and she heard and felt the beams of the camera flash land upon her restrained body.
This went on in numerous positions, sometimes with a strong pulsating member destroying her viginity. At the look of her distress, the boss told her that she should enjoy it, as it would be her first and last chance at sex, which made her buck only more, and then she resigned to pinning.
She was left at the end of a horrible day on an equally horrible mattress, hog-tied, and was told to get some rest, as tomorrow she was going to loose her ability to have sex, or do just about anything. This worried her maddeningly, as she roared into a heightened state of awareness, and because of this, sleep was not forthcoming.
They released Christina from her boards, but warned her not to struggle, or it would get much worse for her, and since she had given up, she let them untie her. Next they placed a tube into her holes and filled her mouth with another device, and then, when they had sealed on the corset, she realised that this was her greatest fantasy come true, to be sealed in a set of devices from chasti-permalock, the Corset, but plug, chastity device and gag were all permanent. There was only one person that knew about this, thought Christina, was Cat. Could it be that she had staged all this? She thought, as they placed on the chasti-permalock blindfold, and just as it was on, Christina heard Cat speak to her “Yes, I found your stash of chasti-permalock information and decided that I loved you sooooo much that I would give you just what you wanted. And by the way, happy birthday Christina, as it is the 22 of May. I thought this was better than any party, and a good present to give you, and as you can probably guess, all the devices are set permanently and will torture you, just as you wanted for the rest of your existence. Good bye Christina, as now you will see no evil, speak no evil or hear no evil.” Cat finished, just as they put in the chasti-permalock earplugs, and lowered her into the coffin. Then they lowered her into the hole and filled it with cement, sealing her in forever.
Links to sites that have been used in this story...
the chasti-permalock website
the Medici auto corset go through the text area, into seualy oreantated origonal fiction and it is under *NEW HIGH TECH LINE OF CORSETS*
Email the auther at email@example.com
Who wants to be normal?