The Trousseau

This story was an entry into the 2011 Winter Fetish Story Contest

"Let us help clean up."

"Thanks, Mom, we've got it covered."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

I gave her a peck on the cheek and shooed her and my sister out the door. She made the 'call me' gesture and I nodded.

Truth was there wasn't much to do. As catering manager at the hotel, Dina had it down to a science and in a couple of minutes we were settled on the couch with fresh glasses of wine.

"Was everything okay?"

"What? Are you nuts? It was awesome! I can't wait for the reception."

"You made out like a bandit, too."

"Yeah, but Sue and Alicia are getting married in few months, so their showers will be payback time."

We sipped our wine. Time passed. We sipped some more. More time passed.

She had told me with a wink that she had something special for me, but that it would have to wait 'til later. It was officially later.

"I can't stand it! Dina!"

She laughed, set her glass down, and went into the bedroom. She came back carrying three boxes.

"Your trousseau - of sorts."

She handed me a box.

"A little something for before."

I tore off the silver wrapping and opened the box, flipped out the tissue.

There were three garments, two white, one black, all spandex - or not.

"What's this? The material I mean."

"There's a tag."

"Darlex? I've heard of it."

I rubbed it against my skin. It felt very, very nice. Like spandex, but thicker.

"I think it's made in layers, a layer of rubber between two of spandex. I know you're into spandex, so ..."

I held up the items. The first was a pair of white panties. The second was a white unitard. The last was a dress. A long, black, darlex dress. But not just a dress. An ankle-length hobble dress. The sleeves were sewn making it a combination dress and straightjacket.

"Oh wow."

"Is it okay?"

I grabbed her for a hug.

"It's fantastic! I've never seen anything like it before."

"I wasn't sure. I mean, the bondage stuff I get. I'm not sure about the fetish thing."

"It's not a fetish, really, it's kink."

"The catalog said 'Fetish'."

"Lines get blurred. If you get off while someone is wearing the thing, that's kink. If you get off on the thing itself, that's fetish. And a true fetishist doesn't necessarily get off in a sexual way. Think of it this way. Jim likes me to wear my 'fuck me' pumps. He gets off on seeing me in them - key word 'me'. That's kink. If just the sight of a shoe did it for him, that would be fetish."

She was looking at me with crossed eyes.

"Tmi?"

"Mm."

I gave her another hug.

"Thank you!"

I folded the garments and put them in the box. She handed me the second.

"A little something for during."

It rattled. I shook it, gave her a mock puzzled look.

"Oh, just open it for gosh sake."

I did.

"Oh wow."

"You're repeating yourself."

She leaned forward and topped off our wine, settled back on the couch, took a sip. She had a little Mona Lisa smile on her face, clearly enjoying herself.

I pulled out a plastic bag. In it were chains and rings, simple chrome steel rods bent circular, hinged with a drilled overlap to accommodate a lock. I slipped the larger around my neck.

"Everything should fit. I got the measurements from the dressmaker."

I dug a lock out of the bag, keyed it open, and slipped it through the holes, snicked it shut. A wave of emotion swept over me. We had leather cuffs that could be locked, but I always felt in the back of my brain that I could gnaw my way out if I had to, same with rope. But this? This was permanent until the person with the key decided otherwise.

"Whoa."

"You've got goose bumps."

I rubbed my arms.

"Yeah, well, this is a bit intense."

"Not too much-"

"Uh uh. Just give me a bit to get used to it."

"No."

She reached over and unlocked it, pulled it off.

"If there's going to be any getting used to it'll be when Jim has the key."

I rummaged around in the bag, checked out the other rings. There was a chain that looked like a stick figure as well as five, shorter, separate chains. I put everything back in the bag, picked up a box.

"Plain brown wrapper," Dina said, stating the obvious.

I pried it open and slid the black, rubber shaft out. Turned out to be an anal plug.

"I wasn't sure about the, er, size. I mean, it should be small enough to go in comfortably, but big enough to not slip out. I mean, I tried to gauge, compared to when I ..."

She was blushing and it wasn't the wine.

"We have one that's bigger and one that's smaller, so this is just right. Thank you!"

I pulled out another bag - clamps. The two-tine, rubber tipped things.

The next box held a vibrator, one of those pink, knobby, rubber toys.

There was another vibrator, a silver bullet.

"The hell, girl, did you buy everything in the catalog."

I pried open the last box.

"Oh my God."

"I hope you like it."

"Like it, I love it."

"You kept going back to the leather shop at renfest. This one seemed to catch your eye. It's a real flogger, size small, but the guy said it would deliver everything from a playful slap, to something akin to a serious spanking."

Now it was my turn to blush. I had no secrets from Dina, but the idea of being held across Jim's lap and being spanked embarrassed me. Turned me on, turned us both on, but this was a fairly recent addition to our games and I still hadn't gotten it reconciled in my head. But, yes, this one had drawn me like a magnet. Woven black leather grip, nine (I counted) leather tails, the monkey's fist knob.

"Earth to girlfriend."

I blinked, realized I'd been fondling the thing.

"Sorry."

I reached for the third box. Dina slapped my hand.

"That's for after. A surprise. "

"What is it?"

"Well, duh, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."

Despite my mother's fears, the wedding went off without a hitch. I walked down the aisle. I could imagine the whispers and the winks.

The virgin was going to get it.

Yes I was (still am) a virgin, at least technically. It started in high school. We all signed the virgin pledge, then looked for loopholes. We decided that if no penis entered the vagina, virginity would be maintained. As for everything else, all bets were off!

There were four of us, each with limited sexual experience, and it became a competition of sorts to see who would get to do what. I was the last to try sodomy. Handjob? Check. Blowjob? Double check. Bum fuck - welll. It wasn't 'til  my sophomore year of college before I did it, with Jim, feeling guilty about the whole virgin thing, wanting to give him something 'special' - well, besides my cherry. Dina coached me through it. Anal sex to her is like spanking to me. We're into it, just not 100% comfortable with the idea.

I don't know why I stayed a virgin. Inertia?

The reception went smoothly. It had better with the head of catering sitting at the head table.

Later, Dina said something to Jim, he nodded. She came over and took my hand.

We stepped into the elevator. Dina slipped her security card in the slot, pressed the express button.

The room was opposite the elevator lobby. The bags were on a cart. My 'travelling' clothes were laid out - along with a little extra something.

"A hood and a breathing gag and ear plugs. Let's get you out of this dress. I told Jim to give us a half hour, then come up."

Dina stripped me, pretty much just yanked everything off.

"We have a cleaning service. I'll get everything cleaned and ship it to your mom."

I pulled on the spandex panties. I love the feeling of the stuff on my ass and pussy. I've tried latex, but it's too thin - and noisy. It squeaks. I have a pair of rubber panties, though, with a shaft built into the crotch. Jim often pushes a butt plug into me, then tugs on the panties when we go out on our 'special' dates.

Dina helped me into the unitard. The pressure on my crotch doubled. I could feel my cheeks flush. Talking to Dina about it was one thing, but having her there ...

She held up the dress. I slid my hands into the arms, all the way 'til my hands bumped up against the pockets. Dina stepped behind me and zipped, starting at my neck and working down to my ankles. It was a bit of a struggle, but the spandex did what spandex does, even with a layer of rubber built in, and soon I was encased neck to ankles in the stuff.

I wondered why it zipped that way, then it dawned on me that my hands were up here and the toggle was down there and even if I could get my hands free inside the garment, I'd still be trapped. The thought gave me a little thrill.

Dina wrapped my arms around my waist and fastened my hands together behind my back. I looked in the mirror. There I was, all in black, hugging myself. I ooched around a bit.

"Make it a bit tighter."

Dina tugged on the straps.

"Better."

"Oh shoot."

"What?"

She held up a shoe.

"Should have thought of this before."

Chuckling, she eased me down onto the bed, slipped the black spike heels on my feet, set me upright.

Dina checked the clock.

"Almost done."

She opened a small box, pulled out the plugs, and pressed them into my ears. This wasn't in the plan, then the proverbial light went off.

I'd be encased in darlex, hooded, gagged, and deaf on the trip to our honeymoon cottage - or were we still going to the cottage? That was the plan, but the plans seemed to be changing.

Dina held up the gag. It was your basic ball gag, but with a hole and a tube sticking out. She wedged it behind my teeth, buckled the strap behind my head, then buckled the chin strap.

She leaned close.

"Okay?"

I nodded.

Dina picked up the hood. She studied it for a minute, pulled out an ear plug.

"Okay, this thing is supposed to attach to the dress. It looks like the hem of the hood tucks into the neckline and then you feed the nylon strap through the rings, alternating dress and hood, then you lock the rings on the strap together. Does that sound right

I mmfed and nodded. She pushed the plug back into my ear.

"Okay, kiddo, here goes. Enjoy your honeymoon."

I could barely hear her, but I could read her lips. I tried to smile.

She pulled the hood over my head and fussed it for a minute or so. She fed the tube through a hole. The hood also had holes for my nostrils, but I felt better having the tube. The hood tightened, conforming to my head as she laced it up. There was nothing for a bit, then the dull thump of the door closing.

I stood there, as the saying goes, 'Nervous as a bride on her wedding night'.

A hand gripped my shoulder. Startled I jumped, almost fell. The hand worked its way down and around my darlex clad body. I prayed that it was Jim and not one of the hotel people. He nudged me and I tried to walk, took two tiny, shuffling steps before falling. He caught me, righted me, hefted me.

The thing beneath my feet wobbled. He had set me on the baggage cart. He tugged on the tag ends of my hand straps and tied me to the handrail. We trundled off.

I imagined Dina was there, security card at the ready, ensuring a swift (and private) trip down to the parking deck ... or not. Jim wasn't big on public displays, but there had been times ...

I was lifted again, manipulated, sat, swung into place, felt the seat belt tightened across me. There was the thud of a door. Another. Then vibration as the engine sprang to life.

The trip took almost three hours and, it turns out, it was to the cottage. Of course I didn't know that until Jim released me and I was able to get my bearings.

He passed on the 'during' gifts for now. We were both wrecked. It had been a long, stressful day. He did lock the collar around my neck.

He slipped a finger under the collar, pulled me to him, kissed me. I trembled.

"Now that the wedding is out of the way, it's time to consider a collaring."

I nodded. I was ready, more than ready.

"Yes, Mas-"

He silenced me with another kiss.

"It'll happen when I say it happens, when I think you're ready."

God I was I ready, but I just nodded.

He dug the box out of the suitcase.

"What's this."

"Don't know. Dina said it was our 'after' gift. Before the wedding night, during the wedding night, and after the wedding night. Open it."

It turned out to be a sleep sack. I'm in it now. My arms are tucked into the internal sleeves. After a quick pee, Jim had told me to put on my rubber panties, the pair with the shaft. He laid the sack out and I slithered in. He zipped it. There's no gag this time, but the hood is locked in place, same as the dress. I'm all snug and cozy my new sack, feeling tired and kind of dreamy.

And, yes, I'm still a virgin ... for now.

 

 

05.12.11