The Awful Account of the Haunted Costume
by AmyAmy
[email protected] | Forum Feedback
© Copyright 2017 - AmyAmy - Used by permission
Storycodes: FM; FM/fm; latex; bond; cuffs; gag; chain; susp; captive; trap; domme; F/m; hood; strip; pants; toys; insert; shave; fem; bodysuit; rubberdoll; mask; corset; costume; maid; trick; drug; stab; blood; feed; oral; climax; cons/nc; XXX
Ghoul-gle jpn
The Awful Account of the Haunted Costume 2 AmyAmy FM; FM/fm; latex; bond; cuffs; gag; chain; susp; captive; trap; domme; F/m; hood; strip; pants; toys; insert; shave; fem; bodysuit; rubberdoll; mask; corset; costume; maid; trick; drug; stab; blood; feed; oral; climax; cons/nc; XXX
story continues from chapter one
Chapter 2

Dan made another circuit of the main party room. Cordelia ought to be here by now. Had she got caught up somehow?

He’d improved his outfit from the previous affair with the addition of a hood, just like she’d suggested, with a zip that could close the mouth opening. Checking himself in the mirror earlier, he’d looked scarier than he’d expected. It was a sinister sort of look. However, he didn’t feel scary or sinister wearing it. It was hot, and sweaty. He couldn’t hear well, and the rubber-infused sweat continually ran down into his eyes. They were probably red and bloodshot by now. He would leave it up to her whether to remove it, or to keep it on.

He walked over to the bar, where the staff were racking up glasses of ice-water, ready for anyone to grab. Real glass. They clearly expected the clientele to be well-behaved tonight.

He turned back to survey the room, and there she was. Not Cordelia, but the woman he’d been noticing over and over since he’d arrived. Her cat-suit shone with a fantastic gloss, and her corset and boots were glistening black vinyl. Not cheap stuff, but good quality, with a deep glossy finish. It reminded him of a pair of expensive designer shoes his ex-girlfriend had owned, though those had been red. It looked just as smooth as rubber, but shinier.

Her face was also covered by a rubber mask. Like his, it had openings for eyes and mouth, and barely visible breathing holes beneath the nose. Unlike his, her hood had molded-on cat-ears, and she’d painted a white dot for the nose, with three white whiskers either side.

There was no denying her shape was attractive, in a conventional way. Shorter than Cordelia, despite the tall spike heels on her oh-so-long boots, which laced up to just below her crotch. And she was a classic rubber beauty, totally pornographic. The corset pushed her breasts up and showed them off in a way that wasn’t even remotely tasteful. Her crotch was framed in a similar way, making it hard not to look at it, though he tried not to. He could imagine her, photographed in black and white, extreme close-ups.

His gaze drifted up her body, and their eyes met. She smiled, as if she’d been waiting for him to notice her. Her teeth were white and even, the kind of unnatural perfection that only expensive dentistry could achieve.

She reached up and put her palm on his chest. “Hello. I’ve been watching you.”

He closed his mouth, which had dropped open at some point. “That’s an interesting costume you’ve got there.”

She smiled again, fleetingly. “Are you Dan?”

“Sorry. What? Ah, yes. I’m Dan. How do you know?” He took a drink of his water, hiding behind the glass.

He could swear that for an instant, he saw in her eyes a cascade of emotions, some inner conflict playing itself out. No. He was no judge of people, it was just his imagination.

“Cordelia sent me to find you.”

Of course she had. There was no way that, not one, but two, amazing women would be attracted to him. A tiny part of him was disappointed, though there was no chance that he would have let this woman distract him from her.

She added, “I wasn’t sure I had the right person. Because of the mask.”

“Cordelia? Is she here?”

“Oh yes. She got here early, she’d been preparing a surprise for you. Come and see.” She stepped in closer, just a little too close for comfort. He could feel the heat radiating from her suit. She could probably feel the same thing coming from him.

“Right? A surprise? Am I going to like it?”

“Definitely. If you’re good.”

There was something about her continuing stare that made him nervous. As if she was ready to eat him up, and not in a nice way. With that thought, he broke eye contact, his attention shifting down to her gloved hands. She had little molded-rubber cat claws on her fingertips, and she was carelessly swinging a pair of cuffs from her finger.

“Hold your hands out.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Now, now. Be a good boy,” she laughed. “By the way, I’m Jessica. Didn’t Cordelia mention me to you?”

“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’d have remembered if she did.”

“You’re only spoiling your own fun. She asked me to cuff you, but never mind, she can do it later, herself. Come on.”

She grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the bar. It would be awkward if he didn’t follow. Looking at her from behind, it was hard not to follow the movement of her bottom in the tight rubber. The guilty feeling, that he shouldn’t be looking at anyone but Cordelia, distracted him from thinking about how the situation would appear to anyone watching.

If it hadn’t been for Cordelia, he probably wouldn’t have thought twice about letting this woman Jessica cuff him, and then do whatever she wanted. Which might have been something he didn’t want. Hell, he’d probably have let her restrain him and take him home, like something from a story. He had an intuition that she was highly experienced. No. Jaded would be closer to it. There were depths to her, and if he dared let her, she might teach him things he hadn’t even guessed were possibilities, things that might be hard to reconcile.

But Cordelia was real, honest and straightforward, in contrast to Jessica, who somehow reeked of bad decisions and regrets. Just from the direct way she’d looked at him, he was sure she was the sort of woman who didn’t care about limits or modesty, and after she was finished with you, you wouldn’t have any left to cling to. Or maybe that was all him, and he’d projected it onto her? In the past, where women were concerned, he had confused his fantasies with reality before.

They were already at the door of one of the small rooms, deep in the shadows at the edge of the room. He’d been so lost in thought, and so distracted by Jessica’s syncopated walk, that he didn’t remember getting there.

Jessica looked over her shoulder at him, and grabbed his hand. “Cordelia booked this room specially. I hope you appreciate how much trouble she went to, just for you.”

She pushed the door open, and pulled him in. Inside the room was almost dark, walls painted black, swallowing the light, lit only by the purple glow of a single black-light tube.

A figure moved in the darkness. His eyes adjusting slowly, he wasn’t sure if he was seeing things right.

It was Cordelia, on her knees, suspended by a ball-gag trainer harness strapped over her head. She was trying to say something, but between her gag, and his hood, he couldn’t make it out. She jerked her arms around from behind, showing her cuffed wrists, as if trying to point at something.

He turned, to see Jessica closing the door behind her.

Something hit him, out of his blind spot. A rubber bag was pulled over his head, plunging him into darkness and obstructing his breathing. The bag tightened around his neck, strangling him. He reached up to feel what it was, desperate to force the bag off his head.

Something closed around his wrist. A cuff? He flailed out immediately, putting his wrist as far away from the other as he could. By luck, his fist connected with something solid, yet yielding. There was a cry of pain.

“Fucker,” swore a voice. Familiar somehow.

Something smashed into the side of his head, stunning him, and then he was tackled and dragged to the ground. He was suffocating, the bag sealed around his neck. His lungs burned, straining uselessly.

Somebody heavy was on top of him, grabbing his wrists, forcing them together, trying to control him. He lashed out again.

There was another grunt of pain, then more swearing.

That voice? Zeb?

For a moment, he wasn’t quite sure whether this had all been part of some scene Cordelia had planned, and he was ruining it. No. Surely not with Zeb? She didn’t like Zeb any more than he did.

He was seeing white spots, and his arms felt weak. Deprived of air, the strength was ebbing out of him. A cuff closed around his other wrist, and he couldn’t pull his hands apart.

He made one last attempt, a double fisted blow at his invisible opponent, but it missed. His assailant laughed, and then Dan’s hands were dragged up and hooked onto something. His mind was foggy. He couldn’t put events into order.

* * * * *

The bag was snatched off his head, and Dan gasped for air. He couldn’t do anything but breathe, desperately trying to clear the oxygen debt. He was still weak as a kitten, his limbs heavy as lead.

At last, he opened his eyes, fearful of what he might see.

Jessica was slouched lazily on one of the soft-upholstered benches that edged the room. Zeb moved to sit by her, and dropped the rubber draw-string bag beside him. They were only a few feet away, and their closeness increased the nervous vulnerable feeling that had overcome him. It was probably a result of nearly suffocating.

Cordelia too, was close. He glanced sideways at her. Her eyes were full of fear, wide and staring, her face pale. Sweat was beaded on her head and neck, muscles on her neck corded from strain. The straps they’d used to bind her ankles to the top of her thighs dug deep into the bare flesh above the top of her rubber stockings. He winced at the irony that if this had been some game they had planned and consented to, it might have been an erotic dream, but it was not, and all he felt was fear for what they might do to her.

Zeb gave Dan a broad grin, followed by a thumbs-up. “You’re a lucky man, Doofus. Jessie here is going to take you away, keep you as her pet, and make all your little sub-dreams come true. I’d quite fancy it myself, if I was a masochistic fucking sissy.” He gave a laugh.

He shoved a foam ball-gag into Dan’s mouth, and strapped it in place. The ball was large, and Dan’s jaw was forced to its limit.

Jessica lifted a glass of champagne in each hand. “Let’s drink to our success,” she said, handing a glass to Zeb.

“Don’t mind if I do babe,” he said.

Jessica held out her glass. “To taking what we want.” She looked sideways at Dan, catching his eye, not Zeb’s

“Cheers. And keeping it.” Zeb clinked his glass against hers and then downed the contents in one. “Bah, tastes like fucking vinegar.”

Jessica licked her lips, then grinned. Her flawless teeth gleamed, bright in the black-light. “You’re picky for an asshole. A hundred dollars a bottle, and it’s not good enough for you?”

Zeb picked up the bottle and poured himself another glass. “Tastes like piss, but if there’s nothing else, I’ll drink piss, right?”

“Shall we see if she can pee you out some later then?” Jessica said, gesturing to Cordelia with her glass.

Zeb laughed, and grinned. He seemed about to add some comment, but didn’t.

Jessica put down her half-finished glass. “Better get a move on. Somebody might start to ask why the door is locked if we take our time.”

Zeb drank deeply, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s get these two slaves into costume pronto then.” He rose and walked over to Cordelia, positioning himself in front of her. Without warning, he unzipped his pants and popped out a straining erection. “See what you’ve been missing babe? You’re going to be getting a whole load of this. Every day. Talk about drinking piss, you can have that too.”

Cordelia’s face twisted in disgust. She lurched backwards, but a moment later, the pendulum effect dragged her forward, and Zeb’s cock brushed against her chin. He laughed, stepped back and put it back in his pants.

Jessica put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back another step. “No. I’ll do her. You put my new pet into his outfit. You’re stronger. Less chance he might be able to overpower you and make a break for it.”

“I was looking forward to doing her, but there’ll be time for that later. You’ve got half a point.”

Jessica stepped up to Cordelia and held a large pair of craft-scissors in front of her face. “These are very sharp. Feel free to wriggle. If you get cut or stabbed, it will only be a flesh wound.”

Cordelia stared back, eyes so wide it looked as if she would never blink again. A stream of saliva spilled from the corner of her mouth and ran down her chin. Unlike Dan, she couldn’t tip her head back to swallow when it built up.

Zeb reached for the champagne bottle and poured himself another glass. With the bottle in his left hand, and the glass in his right, he lurched towards Dan.

Jessica didn’t bother with the press-studs on Cordelia’s blouse, she simply sliced down the back and the front of it with the scissors, shredding the rubber. The blades were clearly as sharp as she said, and they went through the shiny rubber in an instant. Cordelia hung there in her corset, the cups supporting her large, soft-looking breasts.

The scissors sliced through the corset laces even quicker than the rubber, and with a push from Jessica, it came away and flopped onto the floor. Cordelia’s upper body was naked and exposed. Without the supporting stays, her breasts flopped down, obviously all natural.

Cordelia glanced across at Dan, but wouldn’t meet his gaze. A hot blush turned her face and chest red. Even red and blotchy, her skin looked soft and flawlessly smooth.

Her aureoles were large and dark compared to her pale skin, while her nipples were surprisingly small for such impressive mammaries. Dan wondered what cup size she was. He only knew the sizes from popular culture, and porn-stories, where if they weren’t a C, they were always something like double-F or triple-H. Dan was sure that Cordelia’s breasts, though impressive, weren’t in that fantasy realm. E perhaps?

Dan dipped his head, and Cordelia’s gaze darted in his direction again. He nodded, without looking at her directly. If only he could do something to help, but he was just as helpless as she was.

He was disgusted with himself for thinking about such trivia. The woman he loved was being stripped naked by a psychopath, and then what next? Surely, she hadn’t set this up as a game? As a fake? Not with Zeb. He’d seen her disgust. This had to be real. The look of fear and shame her face was no act, and she was clearly terrified of where this was headed.

Zeb turned away from watching Jessica’s work with the scissors and stepped towards Dan. He finished his drink, gulping it down. A broad grin spread across his face as he poured himself another glassful. “Like what she’s doing to your girl? You’re next lover boy, but I can’t face your ugly mug without another drink.”

Jessica’s scissors moved on to Cordelia’s skirt, and with a single slice, it fell away, and there was no underwear beneath. Dan blinked at the sight. Cordelia was naked except for her stockings. Her crotch smooth and hairless, probably recently waxed, especially for the party. But apparently this wasn’t naked enough for Jessica, who cut away each of the rubber stockings. This took by far the longest of the tasks, as the stockings were trapped beneath the straps binding Cordelia’s legs.

Zeb finished another glass, and fetched his own pair of scissors.

He started with Dan’s trousers of course. He cut them off, tearing the rubber with brute force almost as much as he bothered to cut. Dan wasn’t wearing anything beneath them either. He and Cordelia had been alike in that. His exposed penis was curled up in fear.

“Not much here, is there?” Zeb said, examining Dan’s equipment. “Good thing Jess isn’t planning on you ever using that little thing.”

Dan swallowed and looked across at Jessica. She pulled away the last remnant of stocking, and finally, Cordelia was stripped of every piece of her clothing. Dan took no pleasure in the sight. If only the circumstances were different.

Cordelia was still red with humiliation, while Dan felt only cold fear. She shot him a glance, and for an instant they were joined in mutual empathy. Each wished to help the other, both were at the mercy of people who had violently taken control of them, and promised worse. They were almost close enough to touch, and yet out of reach. Were they destined to be torn apart, when they’d only just found each other? Was it Dan’s fault that this was happening to Cordelia? Had he made a critical mistake somewhere? Shouldn’t he have seen through Jessica’s ruse?

Zeb sliced off Dan’s t-shirt, and then the hood. He stepped back and examined his handiwork, then bent down and cut the laces on Dan’s boots. Pausing only to finish another glass of champagne and discard the empty bottle, Zeb had Dan as naked as Cordelia, less than thirty seconds later.

Jessica had stopped her work, watching Zeb as if waiting for something. “Maybe I’ll help you dress this gimp after all,” she said.

Zeb swayed unsteadily. “Don’t worry babe. I won’t let him give you any trouble.” He stumbled backwards and fell into a seat.

Jessica came at Dan with an electric trimmer, and in a few quick passes reduced his already short hair to nothing but stubble. Ugly, dark clumps of hair fell around him, and she brushed some away from his shoulders.

She stepped in close, and smeared a double handful of lube all over him, starting with his crotch, and working down his legs. Despite everything, he felt his cock twitch and start to stiffen as she slathered the slippery liquid all over him with her smooth gloved hands.

It was his turn to flush red and avoid Cordelia’s eye, though there was no doubt that she was watching intently. The strain was getting to her. Her veins were turning purple from effort, her neck muscles tense, dripping with sweat. She was panting for breath, her nostrils flaring.

Jessica stepped on Zeb’s foot, getting his attention. “Going to have to remove the spreader-bar to dress him, so don’t let him kick me.” She turned back to face Dan, “You know that if you do anything stupid, I’ll take it out on her, right?”

Dan stared at her silently, his mouth sealed with the gag.

She smacked him hard around the side of the head. A high-pitched tone rang in his ear from the blow. “At least nod when I ask you a question.”

Dan nodded, repeatedly, still a little off balance from the unexpected attack.

Zeb sat down and removed the bar. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and Zeb leaned forward, holding his head in both hands. “Fucking headache. Fuck it.”

Jessica slid a pair of black rubber shorts up Dan’s legs. There was an attached plug, four inches long, and at almost two inches wide, though only a quarter inch at the narrow point where it joined the shorts. Dan couldn’t help but clench as it pressed against his anus, but lubed, it slid in anyway, with only a momentary sharp pain. Once it was in place the pain began to fade, leaving an unpleasantly full feeling, and an urge to bear down to push it out. He tried, but the shorts were heavy rubber, and tight, the plug barely moved.

Smiling, and causing more discomfort, she tugged his cock though a hole between his legs, so it dangled from the bottom of the shorts, then tucked it into an attached sheath, that faced backwards along the crotch. His balls were squashed forward, almost forced up inside him. It was a tight fit, and quite uncomfortable. She pulled viciously on the sensitive tip of his cock, until it popped out of the end of the sheath, somewhere at the back.

Jessica drew her finger along the length of the clothes rack, searching for something. With a nod, she removed her find, and turned to show it to him. It was a pair of flesh-toned rubber leggings, or tights, the legs bulky and stiff, with what appeared to be a replica of woman’s genitals molded into the crotch, which were realistically colored. The legs and hips had a vague feminine shape to them that set Dan’s mind off in odd directions, trying to understand what he was looking at.

She drew them up his legs with little difficulty, due to the copious coating of lube, which was still wet. The slithery feeling as they encased his legs might have been highly erotic in different circumstances. In this situation, it felt like a violation.

They fit snugly around his waist, and were heavily padded with some inner layer of gel. For now, still cool, but he was sure that they would soon be unendurably hot and sweaty, due to the insulation from the padding. They considerably fleshed out and feminized his hips, thighs, and even calves, to beyond even the sort of voluptuous shape he admired on Cordelia, and which were ludicrously out of place on himself. The gel softened the lines of his body, and it was a safe bet that it added to, and smoothed his bottom, feminizing and inflating it to Kardashian proportions, but he simply didn’t dare to look. In other circumstances, he might have dwelled on the humiliation, but things were too serious here for that.

Jessica cupped his crotch and made a point of jiggling the obscene molding of genitalia into place. Once she was done, she reached between his legs with her hand, and unexpectedly, the tip of her finger brushed the end of his penis, not through rubber, but directly.

She leaned in and to his horror, kissed him, ignoring the gag, and sucking his lower lip into her mouth, where she nibbled on it, softly at first, and then a sharp little nip. She drew back.

His lower lip swelled up from the bite, sore and tender, seeping a little blood.

“Wouldn’t want you to be unable to pee now, would we?” she said, then laughed, and there was genuine delight in her voice, so out of place in this black-lit little hell.

Jessica perused the clothes rack again, snapping across one garment after another. “Ah, this is it. I knew it was here somewhere.” She held up an hourglass shaped item, a heavy rubber leotard with vertical strips that suggested some kind of boning. She briefly showed him the front, which had two huge flesh-toned breast-forms attached, then turned it around to show him the back, with eyelets for laces lining a long opening. She peeled it open. The interior was already wet and slippery with lube, or something slimy that might be worse than lube.

She got him to step through the leg holes, then pulled it up. Dan was sure she’d have to release his arms, which were winched up above his head, but she didn’t. The shoulders could be unzipped, and so she was able to fit him into the thing without offering him any chance of escape.

The eyelets at the back were unlaced to begin with. He felt her threading them, working from the bottom up, adding tension as she did so. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, and she had it laced from just above the small of his back up to his shoulders, almost as quickly as he could have done up a zip. Or perhaps it simply seemed quick because he was dreading it? She wasn’t finished though. He was certain the laces went higher.

She stretched a hood between her hands, showing it to him, thin rubber, pale, flesh colored, glassy eyes, molded lips with no opening for the mouth, minimal holes for the nose, and painted like the face of a doll. It had a long neck, and a sort of cowl for the shoulders.

“We wouldn’t want anyone recognizing you? Would we?”

Remembering how she reacted last time he defied her, Dan nodded.

She reached out, slowly this time, and stroked his head, “Good boy.” Her hand slid around the back of his head, and unfastened the gag. Pulling on the strap, she forced it back out of his mouth.

He worked his aching jaw, regaining some feeling, relieved to be able to breathe properly again.

Again, she kissed him, this time with tongue. Her lips warm and soft, her tongue rough and playful. Despite himself, he couldn’t find it awful. At the finish, she chewed and bit both his lips, just as she’d bitten his bottom one. Afterwards, they felt puffy and sore, as if he’d been punched in the mouth.

“See, good boys… Or girls, get rewards.”

Dan stared at the floor, he daren’t look at Cordelia, but he was sure he was red as a beetroot.

Jessica filled her palm with lube, and slapped it onto Dan’s head, smearing it downwards all over his head and face with both hands.

The hood was a stretch fit, and despite the lube, and the thin rubber, it crushed his face and tore at his ears as she wrenched it into place, repeatedly pinching his face as she struggled to grab the rubber. Once again, he couldn’t breathe. She didn’t seem in a hurry to position the breathing holes at the nose. When at last she had it fully settled in place, he discovered there was also a tiny hole for the mouth, though the tight grip of the hood meant it required great effort merely to part his lips enough to breathe through it.

Glassy lenses over his eyes blurred and restricted his vision, instantly making his eyes ache, and tinting things in the periphery blue.

With the hood settled, she tucked the shoulder cowl under the neck of the leotard, and finished lacing-up the leotard. Next, she began to tighten it, and as he’d guessed, there was a long-line corset built into the garment. As she drew the laces in, it compressed his waist with irresistible pressure. The stiff-boning, and relentless crushing of the corset reached from just above his crotch, to just below collar bones. He lost any practical ability to bend his back, and his breathing was distinctly limited. Having lost his ability to breathe deep down with his diaphragm, or high-up in his chest, the small holes in the hood were no longer the limiting factor.

He had to keep his breathing under strict control. If he panicked, his feared he might easily hyperventilate until he fainted. No matter what he did now, he couldn’t get enough air to do anything strenuous without quickly exhausting himself. Any effort would leave himself gasping for oxygen, uselessly, like a stranded fish.

When she was done, and the laces tied off, the corset had settled over his heavily padded hips, creating a severe contrast with his harshly compressed waist.

He’d been trying not to think about it, but his chest was weighted with two heavy flesh-colored breast-forms. It might have been almost as accurate simply to call them breasts, given the way they were molded into the leotard so that they looked like they were poking out through holes in it. They seemed to be filled out with gel or liquid, that gave them a realistic softness and weight. Being so large, they bounced and jiggled with a disconcerting inertia, that made every movement feel strange and alien, and his body no longer felt like his own.

She made him step into a pair of white rubber panties, quite plain, with nothing terrible about them apart from that they would have looked sexy on Cordelia. On him, presumably, they looked ridiculous, though once they were on, he couldn’t see them over his new chest.

After admiring her handiwork for a few seconds, she returned to the rack, and selected a black rubber maid’s dress, strapless, and complete with a built-in bra.

The dress unzipped at the back, and once he’d stepped into it, she lifted it into place, and zipped it onto him in moments. With the cleavage of the giant boobs straining against the bust, it was a tight fit there, but it was a perfectly tailored around his sharply corseted waist.

The skirt would have been knee length if allowed to fall free, but it was supported, almost to the horizontal, by the mass of ruffled white petticoats, also built-in. The result was that it stuck out around him, about eighteen inches, yet didn’t cover his bottom. All Dan could see was the top of the skirt, making an island of shiny black rubber around him.

Dan couldn’t really understand why she was bothering to convert him into a feminized rubber-doll. Perhaps, with so many of them at the party, it would make him effectively invisible?

Dan didn’t care how stupid he looked. Well, perhaps a little, but there were real problems to worry about. His gaze sought Cordelia’s, and he could see that her situation was worse than his. Every second that Jessica had been dressing him had been a torment to her. Her knees were red raw, and she was too tired to hold her balance properly.

Jessica’s attention moved from Dan to Cordelia and back. She smiled, her teeth, as ever, gleaming in the black light, and perhaps she was aware of how this looked and showed them off deliberately. At last, she glanced down at Zeb, who was still sitting on the floor. He seemed half-asleep, blinking woozily.

Dan guessed that he was either going to start snoring, or throw up. But it didn’t make sense. Even if he’d drunk the best part of a bottle of champagne, it wouldn’t be enough to make an impact on him. Dan had seen before that Zeb was a heavy drinker, and could probably put away three bottles of champagne before he began to flag. Moreover, he had seemed perfectly sober at the start. Had Dan simply been mistaken about that?

Jessica wasn’t done with Dan. She settled a bright-pink wig on his head, and glued it to the hood somehow. He didn’t get a good look at the style, but what he saw suggested it had a fifties or sixties vibe, straight down to the shoulders, and curled inwards at the bottom.

With this done, she fitted him with ankle boots, genuine black leather, with pointed toes and five-inch stiletto heels, much like her own. Except of course, her boots were vinyl, and reached up to just short of her crotch, and Dan’s were padlocked on.

The final touch was a stiff leather collar, two inches tall, and padded on the inside. She closed it at the front with another small padlock. It fit closely, and would make it hard to remove the mask without cutting it.

Jessica chuckled, deep in her gut. “A bitch should have a collar, shouldn’t she?”

She picked up the spreader bar, her finger hooked through the ring at the end, letting it sway back and forth. Glancing down at Zeb’s body, for a moment Dan thought she was about to swing it violently overarm and smash it down on Zeb’s head like an axe. Instead, she aimed a lazy kick at his leg. He barely stirred, snorted as if snoring, then quietened again.

“Finally. I was beginning to think the dose was too low.” She looked at Dan. “Oh, did you think this was all about you? No.”

While she fastened the spreader back between Dan’s ankles, she looked over her shoulder at Cordelia. “Your sissy boyfriend is only a distraction, just something I can use to hurt you. Rage, fear, pain, humiliation, pride, greed, every selfish damaging emotion is my delight. Zeb here is full of them. Far more than even you, Cordelia, with your secret little hang-ups. I don’t have to do anything to make him delicious. I just can’t wait to eat him up.”

* * * * *

Cordelia shifted on her knees, but every movement only made the carpet burns worse. She hadn’t expected the loss of her stockings to make so much difference.

Jessica had turned Dan into a rubber doll, the only part of him she could recognize was his bare hands and arms, which were distinctly un-doll-like. But what was in store for her? Why had her kidnapper made such a point of stripping her of every single piece of clothing, then ignored her? Had that simply been intended to break her down and humiliate her?

And now the woman was stripping Zeb. What was her aim?

There was only so much strain the muscles in her neck could endure, and they were already close to the limit. But when Zeb had made her swing into his cock it had made her think of something. If she lifted her legs, so she was supported only by the chain hooked to her trainer-gag, she could swing freely, and cover quite some distance. If she gave herself a push and tensed through the strain on her neck, she could swing close to Dan. Maybe, she could get close enough for him to grab her leg with his cuffed hands, and maybe, he could undo the strap?

It was a long shot, and the hardest part was up to her, but what other chances did they have? They might not get much of a chance. Jessica would need to be distracted long enough to miss what they were doing, and it was a small room. And it would need several attempts, Dan wasn’t facing in the right direction yet, and he probably wouldn’t manage to grab her leg first go, and he would need to unstrap both legs to give her any hope of getting free.

She couldn’t run, if she got her legs back, the only way out would be to overpower Jess, with the two of them. How much help could Dan be at that? She couldn’t ignore how much restrictive rubber had been layered onto him. She’d be surprised if he could do anything at all in that long corset.

While Cordelia waited for a chance, Jessica rolled Zeb onto his front and cuffed his hands behind his back. She used a pair of serious looking hinged cuffs. Zeb wouldn’t have any chance of escaping them without help. She stripped off his leather pants, leaving his lower half naked, and added a pair of ankle cuffs, with a chain so short that there was almost no slack at all.

She lowered the chain suspending Dan by his wrists. It would be too much to hope he might be able to overpower her alone. His hands were still cuffed, he was in high-heeled boots, he would be unfamiliar with, and his ankles were cuffed to a spreader bar. Critically, his breathing would be crippled by the corset and the doll mask. No, he didn’t have much chance of overcoming Jessica, and he would be foolish to try. Cordelia prayed, trying to make imaginary bargains with the uncaring universe. Please don’t let him make an attempt, and end up badly hurt. Please, if someone has to be hurt, let it be me. If someone has to pay for this, let it be me. If he did that, they’d lose their only real chance.

Hadn’t Jessica said she’d take any resistance out on her? Dan probably wouldn’t dare risk that. She could trust him not to endanger her directly, couldn’t she?

She felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as he meekly allowed Jessica to undo his cuffs and replace them, with his hands behind his back. She’d been banking on Jess leaving Dan’s hands cuffed in front of him, but he might still be able to do what she needed, even cuffed that way. Alas, it would surely be touch and go.

It seemed that Jessica had freed Dan because she wanted to use the chain and ceiling hook that had suspended him. The insane dominatrix looped the chain through Zeb’s cuffs and clipped it to itself, then began to wind the winch.

Zeb’s arms were pulled up and back, his body sagged unconscious beneath. Jess kept on raising his hands until he was pulled almost upright. Eventually, the particulars of his strapaddo position seemed to satisfy her, and she searched through the items in the tray beneath the clothes rack until she found a disposable syringe. She injected the contents into Zeb, and waited, watching him.

Cordelia’s gaze flicked back and forth between Jess and Dan. Why had she gone to such lengths to get Zeb restrained and unconscious? Why hadn’t she used her weird hypnosis trick? The obvious explanation was that it wouldn’t work on Zeb, which left Cordelia wondering why it had worked on her.

What had Jess meant about her secret little hang-ups? Did she mean the divorce? That was no secret. Not really. Not a proper secret, but still, how could Jessica know about it? And it was hardly a ‘hang-up’ if you got upset because your worthless husband cheated on you with a junior intern straight out of university. Being dumped for a younger model wasn’t a hang-up, it was a legitimate complaint.

If she was going to escape she needed to understand what Jessica was planning. So far, there didn’t seem to be any logic to it, no reason to have involved her. And apart from being stripped naked and put in this stress position, she’d been ignored, forgotten even.

She tried to catch Dan’s eye, but since he’d been masked, it was hard to tell if she was succeeding. She couldn’t see his face any longer, and his eyes were covered by the glassy lenses, dead doll eyes that gave off a creepy, uncanny valley feeling, just like Jessica did.

She just needed him to help her. She made a point of staring at him, then at the straps on her legs, repeating, from one to the other. He gave a tiny shake of his head, and tensed his arms. He’d understood, he’d definitely understood, hadn’t he?

He was free to shuffle around now. There would be no problem with him getting into position. Jessica seemed completely absorbed dealing with Zeb.

She repeated the act of staring at him, then the straps. Again, the barely visible twitch of his head. He adjusted his balance, but the movement brought him a little closer. Yes. He had understood. He just wasn’t ready. He’d have to turn his back to her to pull this off. With the voluminous skirts of his maid dress getting in the way, he’d have to stretch his arms out backwards to get any reach.

His movement was so slow. Was he doing that to avoid alerting Jessica? Or was that the fastest he could manage?

But would there be any point to her resistance if Jessica could somehow render her helpless simply though force of will?

This wasn’t the disaster she’d expected on a Halloween night. She’d been planning on an evening of fun with Dan, a chance to show off to others, a chance to see what other people might do. She’d expected to be sipping a drink and admiring all the costumes, maybe climbing onto Dan’s big cock, but here she was, hanging from the ceiling, balanced on carpet-burned knees. Dan had been turned into an anonymous, feminized rubber-maid, and this vicious, psychopathic woman, had some awful plan for all of them.

If she’d been expecting something to go wrong, it had been a minor wardrobe malfunction. Instead, she was at the mercy of a witch. Witch? That made about as much sense as anything else. There was no such thing as witches. Not supernatural ones anyway. Though perhaps, there was nothing supernatural about Jessica’s trick? Perhaps it had been as simple as a combination of theatrics and a micro-dose of the notorious black?

While she’d been considering this, Zeb had returned to consciousness.

“My fucking shoulders. Let me down you bitch.”

Jessica took a long slow breath in. “It’s good that you’re awake.”

She slid her hand down and fondled his equipment.

“No way I’ll get hard with this much pain. At least slack it off a bit babe.”

Jessica laughed. “You talk too much Zeb.” She dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth, while cupping his sack in her hand.

Zeb made a sex face. “Aw fuck. So warm. You bitch Jess.”

Jessica stared up at him, and he snarled back at her.

The muscles rippled in his arms and back, as he took the weight. He was better built than Cortney had first guessed.

Jessica let Zeb’s hard cock pop out of her mouth, a strand of spit still connecting her to it. “Good boy. You’re fine with this really, aren’t you?”

“Let’s trade places. I’ll fuck you in holes you didn’t even know you had.”

Jessica got to her feet, grabbed his hair in her hand and pulled his head up, as if it belonged to a corpse.

She jerked his head back sharply. “I’m never letting you go…” Though she let go of his hair, thrusting him away from her, as if disgusted, “…baby.”

“What the fuck. We had a deal.”

“Did we? I guess I betrayed you. It happens. But you were planning to do the same to me, all in good time. Doesn’t matter. I just need your flaws.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Fucking psycho.”

Slowly, Jessica drew a long thin blade up between her breasts. It came from the front of her corset, had been hidden in the busk. She showed Zeb the knife, flexible, needle-like, but flattened, a knife that could easily cut the one holding it, taking her time before she answered. “This.”

“What’s...? What you going to do with that?”

“A lamb to the slaughter. Or in your case, a dirty old goat.”

Slowly, and evenly, she pressed the point of the blade into his thigh.

Zeb screamed, an animal howl followed by a string of obscenities.

She slid the knife back out, and blood began to bubble from the hole. With sensual slowness, she crouched down and licked it up, catching the trail that had run down his shin, sliding her tongue back up to his thigh, leaving a trail of smeared blood and spittle behind. When she reached the wound, she latched onto it, clamping her mouth over and sucking.

Cordelia shuddered, Jessica really was insane, acting like some kind of vampire?

After a minute, Zeb cursing, begging and threatening the entire time, Jessica stood upright and leaned in close to him. “How you feeling? Baby?”

“Fucking bleeding to death here. Call a bloody doctor.” She stabbed him a second time, this time in the gut. The hole was small, but the blood came out anyway, pouring down his body in a rivulet.

Zeb screamed again, but this time it was different, almost deafening, and the obscenities dissolved into garbled pleading.

He begged for his life again, as she leaned in and kissed him, silencing his weakening cries. She took her time with the kiss, came away, more blood on her chin, and more blood poured from Zeb’s face where she’d bitten him, like she’d done to Dan, but worse. She was an animal.

Zeb cursed her again, blood dribbling down his chin, dripping onto the floor, but his heart wasn’t in it. His strength was fading. His face was pale, almost grey, and running with sweat.

“I should’ve known you’d be the death of me,” he said, and spat out blood.

“You won’t die from a little hole like that. Babe. Not quickly anyway. But it makes you taste sweeter. Your blood, the adrenalin is in it. But I can taste your fear, even without the blood. Better than any physical food.” She put her hand on his face, spread her fingers across it. The funny little rubber claw tips glittered, as if they were real.

Cordelia glanced at Dan. He was in position with his back to her. She had to try now. If things went any further, Jessica might turn the knife on her, or Dan. How many chances would she get?

“No…” Zeb mumbled.

Jessica knelt, intent on Zeb’s cock, taking it into her mouth. Cordelia couldn’t think about that now.

She kicked-off with her burning knees and pushed herself towards Dan. She missed him, found herself swinging backwards. She kept her leg up, tried to adjust without spinning on the chain. He watched her over his shoulder, shifted, a single step, and caught her outstretched thigh as she reached the peak of the return swing.

His fingers dug into her soft flesh, hurting her, but she gritted her teeth though it. Her neck hurt worse. He was doing what he had to. He pulled her towards him and grabbed the strap, his fingers fumbled with the buckle. It was a mercy that Jess hadn’t put gloves on him.

Cordelia’s glanced at Jessica, bobbing up and down on Zeb’s cock, which somehow was still hard. The veins were popping out on his face and neck, as if he was straining every muscle. The blood flowed freely from the two small wounds, but Jessica didn’t seem interested in those any longer.

Dan pulled the belt free, and Jessica straightened her leg. She wanted to cheer, until the pain of the blood returning hit her. Her eyes watered, her leg felt like a fat sausage in a frying pan. She had to push through it. Using her free leg, she pushed her still-bound thigh towards Dan, who grabbed it immediately.

Jessica turned her head slowly towards them, a wide grin on her blood smeared face, red on the white lines of the whiskers on her mask, her teeth glowing in the black-light.

Jessica whispered between those bared teeth, her voice the hiss of a snake. “That desperation, that vain hope, it’s the sweetest taste. And now… Now you sense that you’re both doomed. Hope melting into despair, the best flavor of all.”

Zeb’s veins looked like they were turning black, blood vessels bursting in his face. What had she done to him?

A dribble of cum dripped from Jessica’s lips, and she licked them as she stood. Taking her time, she advanced on Cordelia and Dan, the slender blade gripped in her fist.

Dan managed to release the strap from Cordelia’s other leg. It was as if Jessica was timing her movement, giving them the time to escape, and they were so close. She could easily have dashed in and stopped them. Was she so insane that she was prepared to give them hope, take the risk they might overpower her, just for the satisfaction of proving them wrong at the last moment?

“Now you can stand again. What will you do with both hands chained behind your back? Look at me Cordelia? Look at me. See what I am. Imagine yourself in my place. Imagine what it would be like to be me, keeping Dan as your little rubber-doll pet for as long as you want. Imagine beating him, whipping him, denying him release, piercing every part of him with your steel and making him love it. Imagine him begging you to hurt him again, and again, on and on, without end, because even after that he still loves you, the fool. Can you?”

Cordelia needed every second that Jessica would give her for the strength to return to her legs, but it wasn’t returning. She was kneeling, hanging there like a punchbag, unable to get away.

“Imagine him, your own pet maid, permanently sissified, feminized against his will, he can never leave you, never cheat on you, never betray you, because you control everything he can do. You can lock his cock away, and never let him use it, or you could chop it off. Isn’t that what you wanted? Cordelia? Admit it, that’s what you wished for? Isn’t it, Cordelia? To chop off your cheating husband’s treacherous cock? That filthy thing that he put in your mouth after he’d had it up inside her?”

Jessica took a step closer, taking her time. Cordelia struggled, scrabbled to get up, it wasn’t so easy with her wrists cuffed behind her. She tried not to hear what Jessica had to say. She might have dreamed of things, seethed with a lust for revenge, but she hadn’t done anything, she never would have done anything.

“You didn’t dare, but I’d have done it, wouldn’t I? Imagine being me, getting revenge, wallowing in the joy of it.”

Jessica took another step. She was right there in front of Cordelia, mere inches away. Her rubber-covered crotch, was inches from Cordelia’s face. Cordelia could feel the heat, radiating from the locked-up mound beneath the belt, and the gleaming blade was in Jessica’s cat-gloved hand, pointed at Cordelia’s eye.

“Imagine what it’s like as me. In the suit. Every day.”

Cordelia daren’t look at the knife. She gazed down at her legs, the legs she had to use to get up. She wouldn’t meet Jess’s gaze this time. There was a trick there somewhere, and she wouldn’t fall for it again. She struggled to rise to her feet. Both legs burned with the rush of blood.

She was too weak. Her legs folded under her, and she fell. All her weight hit her neck. It was a hangman’s drop.

Fortunately, a drop several feet too short, but even without that killing distance, the sudden strain ripped the hook free from the ceiling, likely saving her life. The chain slammed down onto her head, a heavy blow, like being clubbed with an iron bar. Cordelia gave a high-pitched yelp of pain.

The falling chain hit Jessica’s arm as well as Cordelia’s head, and it knocked the knife from her hand. With any luck, it had broken her fingers, though Cordelia didn’t believe luck was on her side today.

Jessica laughed and put her good hand on Dan’s shoulder, as if to pull him back, and away from Cordelia.

Cordelia struggled to her feet again, almost jumping this time. The pain in the head drowned out the pain in her legs. She barreled at Jess, and knocked her down.

Jessica’s hand fumbled for Cordelia’s face, a claw scratched down her cheek, but it was nothing.

Cordelia rolled over, tangling them both in the chain.

The chain.

There was her chance.

With another twist, she had it looped around Jessica’s throat. It was awkward, but workable. She pushed back, using the strength of her legs to tighten it around Jessica’s neck.

The insane woman dropped the blade, her gloved and clawed fingers scrabbled uselessly at the constricting steel links.

Cordelia was in a blind panic, the adrenalin finally in full flow. She strained again, tightening the chain. Jessica’s face was only a few inches from hers, she could feel the heat from the woman’s body, the flecks of spittle flying from her blood smeared lips as she croaked for breath.

Jessica’s hands fluttered uselessly at the chain. Cordelia daren’t slacken her position, daren’t let Jessica free. Even if she had to kill her to save Dan and herself, she would do it. The fear of what might happen if she relaxed made it impossible for her to let go.

If only this crazy witch would just stop.

30.10.17

You can leave your thoughts, comments about this story or your own head on the Plaza Forum

story continues in chapter three

o0o

If you've enjoyed this story, please write to the author and let them know - they may write more!
back to
Gromets Plaza