Fetish World by Querthe

Fetish World by Querthe

Several vignettes related to a world where fetishes are permitted. All fetishes.

Bond-Air

A very different way of taking a plane.

When this airline appeared on the market, everyone was sure that it would not last more than a month or two.

Extremely cheap airline tickets, strange check-in procedures and the expected number of people crowded on one plane between two and three times the normal airlines. It could not be real.

But somehow the market was not prepared for the customers’ curiosity. And to the company’s success.

The planes used were the same as those of the other airlines, but with the difference, that apart from a small group of seats on the ‘UC’ section, as it was called, the rest of the plane was just a large empty cargo, albeit divided into a passenger section and a baggage section. Given the arrangement they were using, each plane was capable of moving two to three times the normal number of passengers. How?

Well, we follow Claire, a girl who decided to use Bond-air airlines for her trip from London to Rio de Janeiro.

She arrived at the airport well in advance with her luggage, two large suitcases, since she would be staying almost a month in Rio. She was there three hours before the departure of the flight to check in. Like other boys and girls her age, about 20 years recently, she was dressed in a mix of synthetic and latex clothes. What had happened almost two centuries earlier was still influencing society, but evolving technologies were moving latex and plastic into a predominant position in the fashion industry, albeit still pricier than synthetic fibres. She stopped at her desk after a short wait in the queue, and smiled at the clerk, who nodded, her stiff, shiny face trapped under a plastic mask clamped over the back of her head for the duration of her shift, her stiff neck disappearing under the shiny blue collar of her latex uniform, similar to that of Pan-Am airlines during the 1950s. It was the first time the girl had actually seen a BA employee, and she noticed that the mask was one piece from the neck down to the wig that covered her real hair, with only the neck joint to make her nod or shake her head if necessary.

“Welcome to BA, Miss. May I see your reservation and documents?” the woman asked. Her mouth did not move, trapped in a smiling posture, her voice slightly artificial and coming from a sophisticated laryngophone placed in the neck of the mask.

Claire nodded, the movement swinging her long blonde ponytail, then reached into her bag for her papers and placed them on the desk, her tight, thick, long-sleeved latex mini-dress creaking, emitting strange, sensuous pops and squeaks typical of the material every little movement she made.

The woman picked them up with her gloved hands, the latex of her uniform probably thicker than that worn by Claire. The mask showed a woman in her thirties, but, being totally opaque and with coloured lenses, that also totally covered the eyes, it prevented one from knowing the real characteristics of the woman underneath. Maybe she was in her twenties, maybe she was over fifty, no one could know. Claire remembered for a moment that job offers did not divide men and women, although there were only female figures, including pilots.

Her mind wandered for a second over the implications, so she missed what the woman at the check-in desk told her.

“Miss, do you have any luggage with you?” he repeated to her.

The girl jerked slightly, realising that she was lost in thought, then smiled, nodded and shifted the two heavy pieces of luggage onto the transport belt.

“Less than 100 pounds (ca. 45 kg), so within the standard weight allowed on board. Do you know the procedure or would you prefer me to explain it to you?” the woman asked as the printer was starting to create three barcodes. The employee, a tag on his left breast indicating his name was “AL1C3”, placed the sticky barcodes on the two pieces of luggage, then gave the command, via a button, to the conveyor belt to start moving them to be placed on the plane.

“Please, can you explain it to me: this is my first trip with this airline and I have only read about it on your website,” he told her.

“Of course.” The check-in woman said in a soft tone. “The first steps are the same, so a security check as normal, then you will go to the gate indicated in your boarding pass and everything from there will be automated, although two of my colleagues will be present to check and help if needed during preparation. You will be prepared for the flight. Do not worry about transit flights, as both the London-Lisbon and Lisbon-Rio de Janeiro flights are SU BA, we will move you from one plane to the other, and you will not have to worry about waiting times or wrong gates. I see from your suit that you don’t have a latex allergy, but you can always opt for vinyl instead of latex treatment. Some people prefer it, but it is probably a personal decision. Both are safe. Do you need any more information?”

“N… No. But… what do you mean by prepared? Treatment?” The blonde asked, staring at the woman, practically a doll, considering that not a hint of bare skin was visible.

“I am not authorised to provide such information because of the time I will be using and for that, I would slow down the control activities. Feel free to ask my colleagues at the gate. Have a good flight miss.” he said, handing Claire the documents back along with her boarding pass and another sticky barcode.

She was certainly surprised, but told herself that since the airline had been in business for the past eight years, their procedures were not dangerous.

He moved towards the gates, the controls, and then moved to the gate number indicated on the boarding pass. She noticed along the way that plastic fashions were increasingly present along with latex ones, and on all ages of people, male and female, from children to the elderly. Some of them even had bondage accessories, used as she was using a necklace or a bracelet. She smiled, thinking that she was more and more interested in buying a bondage accessory to use on a daily basis. Maybe she could find them in Rio, cheaper than in London.

When she arrived at the gate, boarding had already begun, and she stood there, open-mouthed, seeing what her fate would be.

The gate was equipped with some kind of body scan equipment, so a transparent cylinder that a person could easily enter. A body scan, apparently, but then the differences began. The passenger inside at that moment moved her hands to her sides, parallel to her torso, and a small hissing sound began to be heard even from far away where Claire was standing. A ring of sprays began to move from the bottom to the top of the woman, covering her in a thin, black, shiny substance that moulded itself to her body like a second skin, covering her dress, her shoes, her face and everything, even her hair. Apparently the substance, as shiny as latex, hardened on her within seconds, trapping her in a rigid, shimmering black figure. As soon as the spray touched the ground, another ring from the bottom upwards moved quickly, stretching a sheet of black latex over the rigid figure and sealing it on top. The latex was of the self-sealing type, with new technology developed over the last twenty years and now commonplace.

The BA staff opened the cylinder, stuck the barcode on the outer surface, and the boarding pass found its place in a transparent plastic pocket that was glued back onto the rigid form. A mechanical arm with a scanner, which until then had been resting on the side of the cylinder, moved quickly, scanned the boarding pass and grabbed the passenger around the waist with its metal fingers, placing her on a conveyor belt, similar to those for luggage. The woman disappeared like a shrouded statue. The next passenger, a man, did the same, but with his hands on his chest. And so on, the procedure repeated, more or less using thirty seconds for each passenger. Some pressed a button on the cylinder, and instead of a black spray they were coated in a clear, apparently thicker one.

Quickly Claire, following the queue, arrived at the cylinder. A masked assistant greeted her with the same face and voice as the check-in clerk. Same dress, thick latex, same stiff mask and neck, same gloves, only slightly taller.

“Good morning, Miss Evan. Your barcode and boarding pass indicate that this is your first time flying with BA. This is our standard boarding procedure. The sprayed liquid, either latex-based or vinyl-based, according to your preference, is mixed with special non-damaging compounds that become as rigid as steel in seconds, providing total protection against blows and possible injury in the event of an accident. The second layer is a self-adhering, self-curing latex-based sheet. This latex develops on the inside, after a few minutes of initial curing, a thin but very efficient layer of temperature change and shock absorption, thus protecting the passenger from any problems, including temperature changes. The system is, however, totally permeable to air, so the passenger can breathe easily and will be released when he or she arrives at the destination,” she, or he, explained.

“O-ok, but does that mean that for nine hours or so I will be totally immobile and sealed?” stammered Claire.

“Yes, correct. This allows us to be sure that you won’t be harmed, it won’t be a harm in case you are a terrorist or the like, no offence, and we can move from one plane to another very easily, with luggage and so on. Of course, you don’t have to worry about biological needs. The spray compounds act on your body to prevent it from giving signals of thirst, hunger or toilet needs.”

He was staring at the masked woman without uttering a word, simply nodding slowly.

“So, do you prefer latex or vinyl?”

“L-lattice, thank you,” she said, and as if in a trance she entered the chamber. Quickly, before she could really comprehend it, with her arms at her side, she was trapped in a black, silent, warm and cosy shell. She tried to mumble, to move, but she was totally still, her eyes closed like her mouth and ears. She no longer felt air or cold or heat or anything else as she floated in a dream, and could only sense when she would be lifted and moved. She soon shifted from wakefulness to a kind of sleep, although she was not really tired, as she was piled up with the other passengers on the plane as mere luggage that would only be released on arrival.

The Receptionist

An international company needs many receptionists, each with her own style, but beware, this must be in line with the dictates of the company’s ethics. And why not, maybe working can also be fun, right?

FRG was an international company that had offices in almost every state in the world and, being so large, also had several offices in the larger states. The main one, the head office, was in Washington, but in all big cities, like Rome, Paris, London, Tokyo, Beijing and so on, there was an office that handled sales, sometimes research and development and other market sectors.

Hannah was employed in the main office in London. It was not really centrally located in relation to the city, being about an hour away from London Victoria train station, but it was well served by buses, trains and so on. It was a huge building, probably big enough to accommodate almost two thousand people, and she was, along with five other women, a switchboard operator. It was a simple task, but the number of people coming in and out of the hall, the phone calls, emails and contact forms on the site was a real full-time job.

But she was happy to work there. People were nice in general, the other receptionists were nice and friendly, and she could enjoy some of FRG’s products for free because since they were the first people each guest saw when they arrived, they were also the best advertisement for the products the company was selling.

Hannah arrived at the desk around 9am, having driven her teenage twins to school. She was already dressed, in part, in her uniform, so she was sheathed in a 0.8 mm black latex catsuit with feet and hands not covered by the material, high-necked and with a long zip that could be closed from waist to neck, at the front. Actually, the neck padlock was missing, but she would deal with that later. Her private parts were lined in the same latex, condom-like inner sheaths that touched up to her cervix at the front and went almost a foot deep into her anus, both holes filled with part of her working tools. Black latex panties trapped those tools, preventing them from coming out, filling her vagina and anus with two dildo-shaped objects. Over her catsuit, her underwear if you want to call it that, she wore a Trilay suit, dark blue with green details, a white blouse and black 5" heels. The jacket was fitted, fastened with two buttons at the waist, and the skirt was just below the knee, without any slit, restricting her leg movements in an extremely elegant way. The heels clicked sensuously on the floor of the entrance hall.

Because she liked to pamper herself and feel wanted, she used to wear shoes with ankle straps every day, using a small padlock on each ankle to lock them and at the same time fastening a short chain so that even if she wanted to, she could not take steps longer than about fifteen centimetres, exactly what her skirt would allow. She was so used to doing this that she would normally help one of her two daughters block them. That day, it was the turn of Aria, one of the eleven-year-old twins, blonde like her but with her father’s green eyes. Because of her job, she couldn’t indulge in her other fashionable wrist and neck accessories, but they were in the bag she had with her, so that as soon as her shift was over, she would link her wrists with a chain about 30 centimetres long and lock her neck with her metal and plastic posture collar.

She greeted the two other switchboard operators who had already arrived, Mariam and Ashra, both in their standard switchboard operator uniforms made as she was of latex and Trilay. There were also others that were acceptable as uniform, one made of synthetic material used by Carol and one that Hannah had only tried on for a couple of days, but for her, it was too restrictive, while Zhirafete was happy with it, being close to her idea of ‘purdah’ as she called her religious principle.

The woman sat down at her desk, similar to all the others positioned in front of the long, shiny desk that acted as switchboard and reception desk. In front of her was only a keyboard, no screen or anything else. She pulled a closed box with her surname printed on it out of a drawer and, using the numeric keypad built into the box, opened it using her code. Inside was a wireless headset, really small and almost invisible, another similar to a Bluetooth receiver used in the past with smartphones, and a latex mask identical to his face, including his hair, blond and styled in wavy locks that barely touched his shoulders. With a swift and confident movement he removed his hair, revealing it to be a wig, showing a shiny bald head. With precise movements, dictated by habit, she adjusted the mask over her face, stroking her neck until all the creases disappeared and adjusting the catsuit and the hem of her shirt so as to hide where the mask ended. If it hadn’t been for the plastic lenses over her eyes, made especially for her so that she wouldn’t have to close her eyes all shift long, but protecting her eyes from dryness, bright lights and so on, no one could see that it was a mask. She pushed the small earpiece into her left ear and connected the other object to her right ear. Activating automatically, the latter buzzed and began to emit a holo-projection over his right eye, showing the daily schedule and information he might need. She was the only one able to see it, the projection reacted with the lens of her eye so that only her lens could grasp the information, while for the others there was nothing in front of her. She shifted slightly in her chair and collected the last items from the box, a small bonus she had decided not to use every day. Today, she wanted to pamper herself. Black latex mittens as thick as her catsuit. He managed to slip them on with some effort: his thumbs were barely sheathed in 0.8 mm latex, while the other fingers were stiff and flat against each other as if in a cast, due to the glove containing 2 mm of inflexible metal embedded in it. They clicked into place because of the thickness, so that only her thumbs were free slowly and under strain to move, while the other fingers were totally useless and would have prevented any kind of movement she was used to, but she liked it that way, that feeling of helplessness not as visible as a one-piece glove or an armless corset. She would probably have demanded that the gloves be standard for her within a few months, thus getting a pay rise, if she could prove that the restriction did not affect her work performance. Of course, she would only use the keyboard with two fingers, but it was a manageable situation. She would not yet have arrived, although she envied her, to use the eye-movement-controlled system that Zhirafete had been using for some months, enclosed in a rigid, shiny cocoon of rubber and plastic, leaving her to be just a piece, an integral part of the chair and desk, an anonymous sort of mannequin without arms or legs.

Now ready to start the day, she smiled as she felt the vibrations caused by the incoming call activate in her two dildos inside her, controlled and kept charged via the induction circuits in the chair. With her eyes, she acted on the holo-projection that allowed her to be in communication with the person on the other end. When she answered the call, the vibrations became stronger.

“FRG London, it’s Hannah, How can I… mmmm, help you?” she smiled and moaned slightly as the toys inside her were playing with her until she would put the phone down.

Trilay © : Trilay © is a special fabric consisting of a layer of 100% elastane fabric inserted and chemically bonded to two layers of PFC certified for sanitary purposes. The result is a fabric similar to spandex, but much smoother and free of any friction, shiny and waterproof, although slightly breathable (a hood can be made, but the breathing capacity is almost 10% that of cotton). It is used for specific fields of application in sports or similar, but also for teenage and young women and men’s garments. Women’s garments cover almost 95% of the market.

FRG: Fashionably Restrained Garments is a multinational garment industry that develops and sells all kinds of garments and accessories that in some way restrain or hinder the wearer, from ballet boots to pouch skirts, from jewelled chains to disciplinary masks that make the wearer blind, sort and mute, in all kinds of materials, from cotton, which is really precious, to latex, to metal.

Back to school

Lisa, a 16 years old girl, is back to school with her new dress and accessories, including ballet boots, armless corset, chains and mask.

It could be said that Lisa was happy to be back at school. She was starting her third year in high school, with the idea of going to college later. She always studied as much as she could, not overdoing things, so finding time also to enjoy her teenager life.

She loved to swim and to dance, and her body was showing clearly she was, if not awesome, at least good at those sports. Her slim body, tonic but not muscular, was paired with her movements coming from classical dance lessons, and also, if not so unique, her skin complexion coming from her Japanese mother and her Mexican father was eye catching along with her long, extremely long, black, silky straight hairs.

She was proud of them, and at 16 years old she could show a low ponytail long enough to brush her knees. She loved also braid, but that day she went for something unusual for her, a high ponytail tied with a black shiny thick rubber band. She was walking to the school, and she was smiling, seeing a lot of the other students looking, some staring, at her. She was sure she would not be unnoticed, and at the same time she was sure her attire would not create any fuss during class. It was the first day, just some hours of catching up of the previous program and chit-chatting with the teachers about what it will be the program for that year. She already knew it, it has been always the same as well for the other two past years.

“Wow… Stunning.” said a guy, probably ready to start his first year there, staring at her and nearly crashing against another guy coming on the other way of him.

“Why… thank you.” she smiled back, blushing slightly but happy, touching her hairs on the right side as to adjust an unruly tuft over the ear. Her wrist and elbow chains rattled gently. The shiny, almost silver, metal creating a sound similar to bells and not prisoner chains. They were small, just oval rings 1 centimetre large and 3 millimetres thick, but sturdy, being made of solid stainless steel. They were connected to her right wrist and her right elbow by metal bands snapped shut against her shirt sleeve, no one able to remove them if not with the key that was in Lisa’s mother’s hands. The elbow chain was not so long, letting her arm to move horizontal, but not more, the other hand of the chain connected to the corset she was wearing over the shirt. At the same time, the chain from her wrist to her waist, again linked to the corset, was letting her bend her arm no more than 45°, so she could not extend her arm totally and she can barely touch her nose.

She turned around herself in a quick swirl to see if the two guys had a problem, moving as she was barefooted, while in reality the knee long leather and metal ballet boots were nearly impairing her movements and her stride, as they were barely visible under the long flower printed red cotton skirt in ‘50 styles she was wearing along with the white tight-fitting Trilay turtleneck long sleeved shirt. The two guys were too busy to look at her to note they were nearly hugging. She laughed slightly and moved on, arriving after a minute or two to meet her friends and classmates.

She was seeking for two girls in particular, her best friends, Malua and Jessy.

She saw them together, nearly at the same time they looked at her. Lisa waved her hand as much as she could with her restrained arm, her left one totally not existing due to the special corset she was wearing. Jessy went to her and hugged her tight, squeezing her but not hurting her, the tight and thick latex and metal corset Lisa was wearing protecting her as much as it was restraining her.

“Oh my sweetie, you look gorgeous. So you convinced your parents to buy it for you?” asked Jessy, moving around the friend to see the outfit. “You look taller… do not tell me that you have on…”

She nodded. “Yes, ballet boots. On my birthday, I was really lucky. Mom and dad bought me the outfit you see, while grandma gifted me a card for the shoe shop on Edmund street.”

“Thish ish noth faihr…” said in a strange way Malua, her mouth as filled with chewing gum. Both Jessy and Lisa could neither see her face, nor anything of her, under the deep blue abaya with a khimar in the same colour as her gloves. Everything, in thin and light polyester, it was indicating clearly her family religious traditions, but it was worn by her because she liked it. She started wearing it since the first year of high school, but she never had such a problem in speaking.

“Malua?” asked Lisa, coming nearer and looking at the brand-new garment her friend was sporting. “This is beautiful, but why the speech?”

“Ah, she bought the lips trainer, and because she has on her veil, she decided to wear it also at school.” explained Jessy, dressed in Trilay crimson leggings and a dark green oversized sintowool sweater high necked and long sleeved, white sneakers on her feet. “I already told her she will have a problem to let everyone understand, and probably teachers will ask her to remove it.”

“Gnnoo, I chan speak ash I waant. I will ask a writthen exham, as Natalie.” she told them. “Sahme wihll be fohr you, Jesshy. How you whill cohhpe with youhhr nechk?”

The blonde one, short haired, smiled.

“No problem, I will just turn my torso instead of the neck, or ask to be in a row in front of the smart board.” she smiled, grabbing with her left index the sweater neck and showing to Lisa her metal neck corset, extending from the base chin to the shoulders, probably. “Dad’s gift, a prototype. Light as a plastic one, but sturdier than a 5 millimetre thick alloy one. This is only a 0.5 mm metal plate, but believe me, no way you can bend it or strange me. I’m safe as in a medieval armour.”

“Cool. Well, it is helpful being the daughter of one of the FRG R&D managers” smiled Lisa, trying to reach the neck corset of the friend to touch it, but the metal chains prevented her. She puffed as annoyed.

“Yeah, but geez, let me see you again. I love your corset. I saw it around, but never so near. So it’s what, the one in latex and steel?”

“No, latex and aluminium alloy, cheaper but also lighter. But as you can see, it’s the full options one, so chains at elbow and wrist, total covering the other arm up to the base of the neck, magnetic code locked closures on the back, 3 millimetre thick. I love it, also if I have still to be used to the lack of any left arm and be helped with a lot of things…”

“Ohhh, I’m pretty sure Daniel will be eager to help you, my little crippled girl…” giggled the blonde, and Malua was giggling as well. “You have only to ask him.”

“Yeah, and this could be a problem, in some minute, if you will help me to complete my outfit.”

Both girls looked at her as not sure about the last statement. Lisa struggled a little bit to open her purse with her restrained hand, but finally, she extracted a small shiny white object.

“A Trilay hood! Cool! Let me see it!”

“No way, Jessy. When you say you want to see it, you mean you would like to try it, but I want to be the one using it today at least, being part of my outfit. I need you or Malua to help me to have it on, and being really tight on my whole face, my speech will be reduced to mumbles and gasping sounds.” she smiled with a strange shiny light in her eyes.

“Yeah, so strange that someone not really interested in such fashion, in these three months decided to go on ballet boots, armless corsets and gasping muting hoods. But obviously is not because someone else was caught seeing pictures of models in such garments and hiding a hard-on in his jeans, right?”

Lisa giggled. “You are perverted. Now stop chatting and put this hood on me, please. I saw him in that direction.”

The blonde one nodded and with some effort pushed and pulled the tight and thick hood over her friend’s face, grabbing the long ponytail and letting it exit the hole appositely done on the hood on top of it. The contrast between the shiny white of her now completely covered face and the black of her hair was stunning. Lisa hugged in some way her friend with her restrained arm, mumbled something sweet to her and moved in Daniel’s direction, barely able to see under the hood, the eyes covered by a thinner layer but still removing a good percentage of vision.

“Do you think Daniel will note her?”

“Jesshy, if he willh not note herh thish way, I dhunno what couldh” answered Malua, caressing the blonde hand with her glove covered one.

“You are right, honey.” she giggled, hugging back the hand of her girlfriend.

Trilay©: Trilay is a particular fabric made by a layer of elastane 100% fabric inserted and chemically bonded to two layers of PFC certified for sanitary purposes. The result is a fabric similar to spandex, but much more friction-less, shiny and waterproof, although slightly breathable (a hood can be done, but the breathing capabilities are nearly 10% the cotton ones). It used for specific fields of application in sport or similar, but also for teenagers and young women and men garments. The women garments cover nearly 95% of the market field.

FRG: Fashionably Restrained Garments is a multinational garment industry developing and selling any kind of garment and accessories that in some way are restraining or hampering the wearer, from ballet boots to hobble skirts, from jewelled shackles to Discipline hoods, in any kind of material, from the really precious cotton to latex to metal.

Shop Assistant

The strange life of a shop assistant that is also a piece of the shop furniture.

Karol was exactly who everyone would imagine thinking of a shop assistant for a female garments shop. She was tall, slim, with a fit body, impressive but not ridiculous breasts, a shiny smile and face framed by long red curly hairs and green eyes. She was nearly a dream. No, she was a dream. But no one, during the three years she was working at H&M, saw her, although a lot of clients were well aware of her and loved the way she was dealing with them. Karol arrived at the mall reserved parking for the shop worker an hour before the mall opening hours would start. She parked her small city car and went out, dressed in a simple W.O.O.L. blue and red sweater and skinny, but not tight jeans. Sneakers completed her outfit. She walked from the parking to the empty mall, only her and some late cleaning people moving on the spaces, and she entered the shop, closing at her back and locking the glass door, framed on both sides by shop windows where faceless white shiny mannequins were sporting the last tendencies in bondage related fashion. One was dressed up in a single armed 1 millimetre thick blue latex V-necked T-shirt, hugging tightly the mannequin torso, the right arm covered to mid arm between wrist and elbow, the left not existing, trapping the arm on the side and over the torso in a inner sleeve. A simple black pleated skirt covering mid calves and low heeled shoes in the same blue of the top were completing the outfit. Another mannequin was showing a full dress made of Eco-leather, with buckles on arms and torso to let the wearer restrain herself or let someone restrain her arms or her stride, because the gown was designed to give full leg movement if buckles were free, but when totally closed, it was an excruciating fetish hobble and straitjacket dress. Karol had one of those dresses, another model, stopping some centimetre above the knee and with a high neck that could be buckled also to simulate a nearly restrictive posture collar. When she used it, she was able to restrain her left arm alone, but she had to wait to find some friend or the security guys at the disco she used to go to be totally helpless, sometime with arms on her front, sometime in armbinder, playing with the buckles. She was starting to think to buy also the longer version, and match it with her heelless ballet boots. Maybe with the next salary. She moved quick inside the not so small shop, crowded of garment racks and images of the most sellable products, along with some other mannequin dressed in several fashions, all with the common point to be bondage related items or inspired to bondage. Near the long cash desk, in front of it, there was an empty pedestal for a missing mannequin. She smiled and moved to search a specific dress. It was totally made of W.O.O.L., black and mat, with long sleeves and a tight hobbling gown until the knees before being floppy and large as a red carpet dress. The torso and neck were doubled internally by a metal plates leotard, enough supple to provide a nearly unrestricted movement, but still remembering to the wearer and to everyone looking at her that she was trapped in it, possibly locked inside and in chastity, by her lover. She picked up one of her size in jade green with hem in electric blue knitted as a ancient Greek anphora decoration, and moved in the private zone of the shop. she stripped off her dresses and underwear, storing them in her locker, gulped the B.B.B. pill and opened the locked room with a key she and the manager only had. Inside there was a sort of pod with an empty and cut in half mannequin as the other in the shop. She stepped in the half part opened, adjusting her body in the tight fit, and smiled. “Voice controls enabled. Operator Karol, Start sealing sequence, countdown nine hours, full options.” she said “Operator Karol confirmed, nine hours countdown, full options. Confirm?” said an electronic voice from the pod, while the other parts of the mannequin not yet touching the girl were moved slightly by the mechanical arms of the pod. “Confirmed.” she said, and waited the pod arms to snap the several interlocking parts of the mannequin until she was totally sealed inside it, blind. After some second she could hear the locking inner mechanisms and the LCD screens over her eyes switching on, showing the cashier desk and in a corner 9:00:00 in red digit. “Ready for options.” said the same voice, and Karol then sensed probes, shaped appositely, penetrating gently her pussy, ass and mouth, self lubing themselves. Nostril pipes also moved in her nose, the air entering and exiting the top of the mannequin head to avoid spoiling the final effect she was just an object, if nostril holes, in the featureless ovoid that was her face, would be there. Totally gagged and penetrated, enjoying it, Karol moved away from the pod, the plastic and metal sort of armor restraining her movements, but she was used to it, being her work uniform in the last three years, since she started to work for H&M when nineteen. She dressed up in the metal and W.O.O.L. garment, strapped suitable high heeled shoes and moved to the empty pedestal, guided by the inner cameras that she could control with eye commands. She picked up a pose and waited the other girls to arrive and open the shop, greeting her with a touch on her rigid skin, knowing she would help them with customers, startling them when they are passing and then, serving them as any other shop assistant, using the synthesizer in her dildo gag that was able to catch her murmurs and translate in artificial voice. It was her job, it was her life and she loved it. The countdown was showing 8:56:32 and was going down when her first colleague entered the shop. “Hi K, everything fine?” She nodded slowly and returned to freeze in position, the lack of movement starting the options in the crotch, letting them vibrate slowly stronger every minute of total immobility. She hoped in a calm, boring day.

H&M:Handcuffs & Manacles, is a German based garments and fashion accessories retailer from several small suppliers not able to create their sales network. They are present in all Europe, western Asia and Canada, while in USA they are not present, because the market is dominated by other brands. The name was due to the first two products a blacksmith in the last century was selling. He was the Grand Grandfather of the actual chairman, and the shops are specialized in bondage and bondage related fashion ad accessories, low prices and simple fabrics. so they have no Trilay, but mainly synthetic fabrics, latex, PVC and similar. there are also garments in metal chainmail or plates. W.O.O.L.: Wool Of Organic Latex, it is a special fabric obtained by really thin wires of latex to simulate the real wool, too rare to be used worldwide. It is called Organic Latex because obtained not by chemical processes, but from bacteria genetically altered to produce these 0.1 mm diameter wires that are then treated as wool, so twisted in larger wire and then knitted. the final product is mat, warm and breathable, yet nearly heavy considering the weight and thickness. B.B.B.: Bye Bye Bathroom. It is a chemical and biological pill with no side effects that stops any need to go bathroom for nearly 12 hours. It’s normally used during shifts by cops, shop assistants and other similar jobs, but it’s largely used also by teenager or people for clubbing and enjoy long session of sealing activities.

Movie Night

This is a continuation of Shop Assistant

When Karol helped the other girls to tidy and close the shop, she was still in her mannequin suit, restrained and nearly hot after a whole day, considering also she went for a mistress style tailored dress in 2 millimetre latex, flame red, sleeveless but with opera gloves, a Victorian neck with also plastic support on the back to maintain the shape of the collar and a hobbling skirt so tight at the ankles that, also with the knees to ankle zipper opened, her feet could not separate more than probably fifteen centimetres.

“Ready to be out of that hot, but wonderful thing?” asked her Agata.

She just nodded, moving slowly to the room where she would undress and then remove the mannequin rigid costume, but suddenly, she glanced at the digital big clock of the shop and paled under the mask.

“Mghh!” she mumbled, cursing her memory. The clock was indicating, correctly, the time was 19.45, but also the date and, she remembered, she was due in ten minutes at the mall cinema to meet her boyfriend. There was no way she could undress, open the mannequin, do a shower, dry, and redress in so short time.

“Karol, any problem?” asked Agata.

She nodded and wrote quickly to her friend using her smartphone.

MOVIE TOM 10 MINUTES

Agata read it and smiled, then giggled, then laughed.

“Oh my, it seems you are stuck in it until the end of the movie… do you have battery enough for the LCD screens?”

Karol looked the indications in her eyes. Countdown was already negative because she already ended her shift. She breathed deeply, as much as the embedded corset of the mannequin let her do: battery level was about 40%, so enough. She nodded.

“Then I think you have only to move quickly… well, as much as you can. Do you need help?”

She sighed, looking at the friend dressed just in a clear plastic catsuit with only her face free and a pink latex skater dress sleeveless and neckless, but with long opera gloves in pink as well and matching high-heeled boots. Why hadn’t she decided for that outfit in the morning? She nodded and moved out of the store, heading to the elevator that would move her from the first to the fifth floor. Everyone in the mall was looking at her, the alien faceless mannequin. Although nearly normal inside the shop, outside it was the first time she ventured and, obviously, her appearance and her dress were turning several male heads and attire angry looks from females. She just moved as much as she could, until everything in front of her went black.

“Mghht?” she mumbled, then she remembered. Her screens, her eyes at the moment, were linked wireless to the shop cameras, but now she was too far from the Wi-Fi connection, so she was totally blind. She moved her hands in front of her, trying to catch something. After ten seconds, more or less, a sentence appeared on her eyes. She moved her eyes to accept it, sighing.

The inner electronics processed her answers, and in some second she could again see. Not from the shop cameras, but from the mall cameras. She could see herself from the top, understanding there was a camera hidden in a column not so far from her, so she could move nearly freely and slowly to the meeting point with Tom, that was already watching her, drooling and surely with a good boner in his pants. She was sure he was attracted by her outfits, also if she was not really using latex or other shiny materials daily. Surely, she was aware he was really on latex and plastic fashion. He spoke about it, and she was nearly sure he was attracted to hobbling outfits, if not by bondage outfits. But how he was looking at her, how he was following her movements, also not knowing who she was, it was indicating he was also attracted by her mannequin suit. She stopped near him and extended her hand as to greet him.

“H… hi. Do you need help?” he mumbled, blushing.

She nodded and indicated herself and then him, then the cinema.

“You mean… Karol?” he murmured.

She nodded, clapping her hard plastic covered hands as an applause, producing a light, high pitch sound.

“But… the dress, the costume. You mean… this is your uniform in the shop? You spoke to me about it, but I was not imaging… Why are you still inside it?”

She sighed. Too many questions and he was so excited, he could not think she was gagged. She stopped him putting her hand on his mouth and indicated his watch and the cinema, then searched for his phone and wrote quickly, showing him the text and mumbling. “Later. Now movie. Gagged.”

He was wide-eyed and eagerly helped her. Short later they seated waiting for the movie to start. Several people looked at them, some just thinking she was part of some promotion, some showing clearly they were finding her hot. Being totally hidden, let Karol be happy about how people were looking at her. Although gorgeous, she was shy, and she decided to take the shop work only because there was the possibility to be hidden all the time, but she did never consider the idea to…using the mannequin also outside. It was unpractical, it was hot, it was sweat inducing, it was erotically restraining her senses, and she would see the movie by a security camera as she was in the far upper corner of the room. Why, then, was she feeling so hot, and not because of the temperature?

She looked at Tom. He was gentle, but that gleaming eyes of that day… It was clear he was looking at her with a much better feeling, a much stronger love and passion.

She nearly missed the movie, lost in her thoughts, lost in what that accident let her discover about herself and about her boyfriend. When the movie ended, she lifted, her hand in Tom one, her battery drained at less than 20%, and he let her seat on a table, ordering a coke, while she had nothing. She wrote to him, after he gently asked her what she wanted, that there was no food intake: the mannequin was not done to be used for so long as other models.

“So there are suits that can be used for more?” he asked, interested.

She just nodded, knowing where that chat would go, but they were so expensive there was no way. Not at that moment, but she could always save. She would do. She was sure she would save for much better models. He just smiled and chatted about the movie, about the future projects. He did really well considering her situation, and he was so gentle also to drive her home, telling her he would drive her back the next day to the shop, guiding her because she was totally blind, the suit not connected to any cameras.

When she was home, he asked her if she was fine, and she nodded, totally in the dark and hot, now slightly steamy suit. He hugged her, kissed her faceless head where lips would be, then she sensed him leave. She blindly, not knowing exactly why she did it, closed the door and moved slowly to the couch, the battery flashing about warning percentages. She could only try to find what she was searching for. Only after a lot of time, she succeeded in connecting the mannequin suit port to a plug using a USB cable port type X. The suit indicated that during the night it would be fully charged and she sighed. She was trapped in the suit, she was hot, she was blind, she would be back in the shop and due to her shifts she would not be out of the suit until tomorrow evening, she was starting to be hungry but so… if her situation was not exactly the best, why she was smiling under the mask?