Author Topic: Swift tailor, sort of  (Read 228 times)

Offline Phileas

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Swift tailor, sort of
« on: August 30, 2018, 04:35:21 PM »
Hi there, it's been a while since I brought myself to write in this forum. This is a story I've been working on on the last month. I think that the sentences' times are still pretty sketchy, but I cannot bring myself to work on it, so here is the deal, can you tellme if it is any good? Thanks, appreciate that.

Phileas

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Swift tailor, sort of...

Part 1

Well, how can I put it? I’m finally living my dream. It's rapidly turning in a nightmare, but my dream nonetheless.
My name is Mariam, I live in the city. Twenty four years old, just finished fashion school. Currently I'm single, and I stay in an apartment in the center of town. I’ve always like sewing and designing clothes, with a keen eye on the racy ones.
A couple of years ago I discovered that I like to work leather and obsessed with it I began experimenting.
With some spare money I bought a second hand sewing machine, that is able to punch thru it and so I started to produce jackets, skirts whatever.
To support myself and my studies I opened an Etsy shop and sold some creations online. Not a steady income, but sure a creative outlet.
Last year I received a custom request for some sort of bondage clothing, a jacket whose arms were sewn into the pockets so the wearer could not be able to use them. After selling it to the customer, I altered the design and put it on the shop. There the flow started to rise up steadily. To balance the request and the effort I raised the prices and now I seem to have found a balance of sort. So I continue my studies, I keep my shop going, and I get some free time to pursue my interests.
During this phase I discovered a couple of things. First that I like to be restricted and restrained. Since I got request by the net it is nearly impossible that the customer is able to model the thing for me. So I have to model myself. I asked Clarice, a friend of mine to help me offering her food in exchange for modeling, but in the end I like more trying out personally the things I produce. So the agreement stays but the roles changes. So she had the chance to close me in one of the jackets, or helped me put on a pencil skirt ending in a tight corset. Or putting me in a high neck top without arms that forced me to hug my torso. Sort of straightjacket, but definitely classier.
This brought me to another discovery: self bondage, and last summer, because Clarice was on holiday and I was strict on deadlines I had to do by myself. This forced me to tweak the design of the jackets to be able to put it on and off without anyone helping.
In the same period I saw something that triggered my imagination in ways I couldn't foresee.
I saw on a website something called “fuck suit”. It's the mother of all thing restricted. Basically it's a bodysuit in which arms and legs are folded in pockets, so that the wearer is not able to walk or grab things besides going around as a dog and using knees and elbows to prance around.
The design I saw was fitted with a hood without holes for the eyes or the mouth, and with a zipper starting from the navel, running thru the crotch, up the back, reaching the back of the head.
It was astounding, the pictures I saw were of a superb leather product, done by an amazing crafter.
There was a woman trapped in the suit, and it was made to her measure in a way that, even if she was fully covered in leather, she could easily be completely naked.
Immediately, I wanted to be her. Hell, I desperately wanted to be her.
I made there and then a plan in my head. This was a big project, of a size completely out of my league.
Broke down the model in three parts: legs, arms and torso, hood.
Since I wanted at first to play with design, I needed a material easy to work and easy to modify. I chose jeans. It doesn't stretch, it's resistant, and it costs much less than anything else. And this because I found a couple of old pants in my closet I could play with.
I remember quite vividly the exact moment in which I took these out on my bed to inspect them. Just plain pants, no frills, no inserts, as I like them.
I took the one with the highest waist and started by unsewing both legs, and then I created the pockets folding the material.
In a couple of days I had prepared a mock up model. The first time I tried them on, I stumbled upon the first problem. The opening of the pockets was too narrow for the folded leg.
After a bit of tweaking I discovered that if I entered feet first and folded the leg inside the pocket it would be tight but more feasible than snucking inside knee first.
To achieve that I created a foot pocket to accommodate fingers and such.
This was a huge step forward. In this configuration I had solved the problem.
The first time I tested this prototype, it was snug yet comfortable. And I was able to button the trousers all the way up.
The feeling was incredible, and I started to put them on while I was working or studying to get accustomed to them. During this time I found that it was so nice and easy that I forgot I was not able to use my feet in that. I was reading a book on my bed, wearing those pants and I was so caught up in this that as I heard a noise I moved out of the bed, just to crush on the floor unable to stand up.
The second part of the suit was way trickier. I dismantled the other trousers and with the pieces first I created a sort of a leotard. It was designed like this because in the meantime I was working on a customer request of a straight leotard, a swimsuit with arms and those arms were stuck on the side. That was really fun try on, but I employed Clarice with that task. As I managed to perfect the torso part, I moved to the arm pockets. Actually I had to work separately on each one, because I could fix one to the torso and then tweak it with the other arm. I found the same problem that I had with legs, and I resolved it in the same fashion, I would have to fold my arms inside the pockets. Snug but comfortable.
As I perfected the left pocket, I just had to copy that for the right. It was good. Then I tried that along with the leg part. First I put the suit legs, then I wore the swimsuit on top of it.
This was a flawed design, in a lot of ways. The crotch part was messed up, and also there was something absolutely off. The swimsuit was so high that some skin was shown between pants and openings. That was a bummer, and I had to return to the drawing table.
Long story short, I decided to connect the swimsuit part with the leg part.
This forced me to actually break down what I had done so far to build it back.
So I proceeded to connect the torso part to the trousers, then I closed the front zip, and opened the back for a rear entry.
It took me ten days, since I had something for a client to do. I modelled the suit and trimmed whatever details I found.
For a customer I had made a hood, starting from a model that I got from my own head. This was tricky, but I used a technique I learned from the web.
First I used some plastic wrap on my head, then I proceeded to duct tape the whole thing, first using a mirror, then using my fingers to cover everything, leaving just a couple of holes for my nostrils. Then I used a rounded scissors to cut the mold.
In this way I had the paper model, that I could draw on leather.
I had decided that it was to be done in black kid leather. I had found an internet supplier, that I had used in the past and I could afford a decent amount of leather, for a fair price.
Mind you, without any particular reason, I kept Clarice in the dark about all of this. It was going pretty swiftly, and fast, but in the meantime I had to call her for some products. I had her put me in the straitjacket I was talking about, and it was very very good.
And then I called her for an armbinder, with an opening for hands, and it was perfect, restrictive and perfect. Both of them were sold for a good amount of money.
The suit, seemed to me, was entirely another project, in which I was the customer, and so it would be more difficult to explain without telling too much. Up to that point, I think that Clarice had still to realize how much wearing my contraptions turned me on.
It was a professional environment, and so I constantly asked her to fumble with laces and hasps, so I thought that my secret was safe. In and out, just to tweak with details. My secret was safe but, boy, I came to realize that I would like to be left in those things for an amount of time.
Then it came the time to start working directly on leather. First I dismantled completely my mock-up model to use it as a template for cuts and forms.
I had learned that usually you have to be very careful on the stress points, so double sewing, stitching, and generally use some heavy duty technique to connect those parts.
I was working in a frantic state, because it was apparent that I was nearing my objective very fast.
I worked on that on every little scrap of time that I could spare from other commitments and I went on to sew late in the night and early in the morning.
That sort of explain my situation right now, but let me come to that. So yesterday night I have completed it, fixing all the parts together. It was gorgeous, all the sewings were tight and strong. I had fixed the zipper starting from my belly, passing thru the crotch and up to the back of the hood. Finally it was real and complete.
I went to sleep last night exhausted but happy. But I was excited, also. And this led me to a poor night sleep. But today was the day I was to try on this thing, no delays accepted.
So I woke up early, made breakfast, shower and whatever. Then I proceed to try it out. I was still in my undies from the night, and I decided to stay that way. Then I thread a piece of rope from the hasp of the zipper and connect it to the handle of the door of my living room, leaving a couple of foot of slack. It was my first choice as a fixed point. Then I sat on my living room rug, it’s pretty large and I judged that there was nothing dangerous I could stumble on during this trial.
Sitting on the rope I first put one leg into the pocket. I had fiddled with the design and it was snug, but comfy and I could bend the leg right into place. I could feel pressure and confinement. Good, on with the other. Same here, it was the same measure and it fitted the same. Awesome.
With my legs in the suit, I squatted forward closing the zipper using the rope tension and pairing the two parts. It went smoothly and in a flash I had closed all the way to the middle of my back, the feeling was constricting but wonderful. Here came the tricky part.
I had thought about that a lot and I have found that the process would be to crouch a little and wear the hood, then insert the arms. Finally I would have to straight my back, turn to face the fixed point and squat backwards until the suit was zipped up, this would help me exert pressure and control during the whole process..
Then when I wanted out I would face my back to the fixed point then shuffle further away sliding the cursors down my back and actually freeing myself.
I had convinced myself it would work right that way, and that it was risk free. Else….
No, there was no else. It would have worked, it would be a hoot.
So I crouched folding my torso and put the hood on. I’ve tweaked also this design to make it more snug and tight, so I could feel the top of the head a little adherent.Then I folded first the left and then the right arm inserting them in the upper pockets.
Then it was a moment of truth, the first tightness I could feel as I got the zipper in the middle of my back tugging at the rope.
The sensation on my belly was wonderful, tight but not constricting. Then I rotate myself facing the handle, aka my fixed point. There I could feel the rope passing over my left shoulder and this could help me to tug more efficiently.
Well, it worked, as I shuffled back I could feel the suit closing encircling my torso. At the height of my shoulder blades I felt some resistance. If I knew better, I should have stopped there and check the thing, but I was so intrigued in this, that I pushed the zipper further up. Did not give a tug, but instead I tried to apply pressure in a constant fashion. After sometime, that I cannot imagine how long it was, I felt the zipper break free of the snag, continuing its journey up. In the same moment I felt that the arms pocket were drawn behind. I must have fiddled with measurements and so the back part was a little too tight hindering the movement and forcing my arms to remain open.
No problem, I could easily fix it as soon as I got out of this suit. But curiosity got the best of me and I decided that I would like to see how the hood fit, and pushing with the head at the rope I forced the zip to the top. I found some resistance and I pushed further. Then I realized a couple of things. First, arching my back to exert more pressure threw me out of balance, second, that the fixed point I chose was not so fixed after all. As soon as I closed the zip I heard a loud “snap” and immediately start to fall backward on my rug.
Oh, shit.
Seems to me it took a long time to hit the floor, but was too much worried to feel panic. That would come later.
But as I recoil for the pretty uneventful fall, I could finally take stock of the situation.
Legs pockets work like a charm effectively keeping them neatly folded and unusable, I could feel the tightness in the torso section, snug, comfy but strict, just like I wanted. The arms were kept folded and stretched by the tightness of the back section, their movement hindered, neck was snug but not constricting. Then there was the hood.
As I may have told you before, I had tweaked with the hood design, modifying the one I had done for my customer. Those adjustments were that I made the chin more streamlined and the cheeks more snug, underlining the nose section, because I thought that in this way it would be more adherent to my eyelids. And I placed two little grommets where the nostrils would be, to guarantee an unlimited intake.
Even this worked like a charm, but not in the way I thought. With this actions I created a sort of funnel where my chin would be fitted tightly, as I pulled myself in place, the leather stretched around my head pushing my chin up. So I could not open my mouth anymore and all the noises I could muster to make were meek “mmmm”.
And also since I had thought that eye slits would be something that I could do in the future I was in pitch black.
And I was in a big trouble, stuck there like a turtle, upside down on my back. I tried to fight the panic, thinking about solutions. Were there any weak points in the suit? I had double stitched the seams, and it would take a lot of force to break them, and in the position I found myself I could not gain any leverage for that.
Frustrated I tried to scream with all my might, but my jaw was pushed upward blocking any sound from my mouth.
Was it the end? Who is going to help me out of this? I started frantically to trash around to find some loose points or to weaken something and get out. At the end I was sweaty, tired and frustrated. I wanted out. But I could not. In that position, in that situation time started to move funny, It seemed like hours. But then a thought dawned on me. Later today I had an appointment with Clarice.
Maybe she could be able to save me.
But she did not have the keys to my flat, damn!
I’m royally fucked. Royally.
As I begin to adjust to the situation and to its own inevitability, I find that I’m able to relax myself and after a while I must have dozed off.

It’s the first time that I sleep in this kind of thing and I must confess that I’m pretty amazed by my body response. Problem is that when I wake up I have completely lost track of time. And since I’m totally in the dark, I cannot see If it is day or night.
This must be it, this is how it ends. They will find my dead from starvation body in an awesome leather suit, beautifully done and manufactured. In a bout of panic induced activity, I struggle a little then I hear a sound.
Thru the fabric I can hear something. Then I hear my apartment door opening. Immediately I sprung in a frenzy to move away, with no results.
The sound of my hurried breath is deafening in the hood, so I force to calm down. There are voices in the entrance to my apartment, I manage to single them out. One of them is Clarice, the other is the landlady of the building.
“Listen, I had an appointment with Mary, she will not have a problem if you let me in. Send her a message, so she will know that you let me in. Don’t worry. Yes I have called her phone a ton of times, God knows where she left it.”
“Let me check inside, with you, young lady.”
Wonderful, just wonderful. I could live with Clarice finding me like this, but that nosy old bitch….
I heard them close the door, and I heard the voice of the landlady trailing in the direction of the bathroom.
My heart was pounding out of my chest, as I heard.
“Oh, wow.” Then instantly all sound were muffled I could feel that something was draped over me. I was literally petrified by fear, horror and humiliation.
“Found it, she has left the phone in the kitchen. Here is the mystery. Thanks for your help. Since this is here, she will be back in a matter of minutes.”
Clarice then proceed to gently push the old bitch out of the apartment. And after a while I could hear the sound of door closing.
Then an enormous amount of time later, I heard some steps, than something was moved around me. And finally the voice.
“Well,  well, well, what do we have here?”

Offline Asphyx

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Re: Swift tailor, sort of
« Reply #1 on: September 01, 2018, 06:51:22 AM »
I think it’s great.l love stories were people get stuck accidentally.  You should right more.