Descent Into Darkness (5 page)

CHAPTER VIII - Rigged

Her
humiliation had pitched her to a new low and the reward for it was a pat on her flank as the petite girl again worked below Katarina's eye line. The drawing of the zip knitted the latex back together, restoring the pressure encircling her pelvis and adding a new one between her legs. Back. Completely locked in the catsuit again. What the hell
was
that? What the hell next?

Returning to the wall, the girl took what looked like a remote control from the recess and holding it before Katarina's eyes, punched the red button.

Katarina's world exploded in shards of pain as a current lanced around her groin. Her knees buckled, loading the weight abruptly onto her collared neck. The excruciating strain was too much to bear. Leaning on nothing more than instinctive self-preservation, she quickly regained enough sense to stand straight on her toed boots, enduring while it subsided.

Again, the remote was held before her. Green this time apparently. Green was clearly the colour of Katarina's reward. Gentle vibrations of the pads placed around her thighs, butt and more sensitive parts, slowly and pleasantly stimulated her. Muscles quivered in grateful receipt before it abruptly halted as the girl slipped into the next room unnoticed, out of range of the remote device.

Could this get any worse? Could she be more objectified? Katarina’s answer was to come quickly but the method was not immediately apparent. The slave girl wheeled a shiny black metal frame into the room. Katarina could do nothing but watch as the frame was first brought towards her then to her left, out of her restrained field of vision.

She strained to turn her head, darting her eyes left and right, hunting for clues. She was desperate to see what the girl was busying herself with now but the thick, high posture collar kept her facing forward while the earplugs deafened her to any other hints. The gag in her mouth remained Katarina’s only comfort and she sucked on it, trying to extract even a meagre degree of security from the now empty cylinder within.

The first clue came as a hand gripped her calf. Already burning from unknown hours under the strain of the locked ballet boots, the fingers bit deep, causing Katarina to buck and try to twist away. The strain on her neck quickly limited her attempts at avoidance but a swift kick to the back of her knee caused her to buckle and momentarily hang by the collar, showing Katarina her place.

Her plaintive mewling went ignored as her leg was lifted and placed on the low platform of the stand. Levering herself up, Katarina felt a moment's relief as she was able to rise, reducing the pull of the collar. She quickly lifted her other foot to gain two extra inches of slack so she could ease the strain on her breathing. Respite was needed and to hell with the consequences.

The girl once again reappeared in Katarina's sight and flashed a grinning thumbs up. Her perfume drifted lazily across Katarina's nose, a heady musk that suggested wealth and promised no little lust. It struck Katarina as a dichotomy that a girl that openly portrayed herself as a slave would wear sure a seemingly confident scent. That thought was soon despatched though as the girl dived down again and gripped Katarina’s latex clad leg above and below the knee. She pushed it further back, hands lingering. Was that more than just precise positioning?

It felt like ice as Katarina’s body came into contact with the cold titanium frame. Her latex hid her modesty but did little to protect Katarina from the frigid metal. She instinctively tried to jag away, kicking out, and was rewarded with the feeling of the toe of her boot striking home.

The hands snapped away and the girl rose quickly into view, rubbing her newly bruised thigh. A glare painted her portrait of dissatisfaction. The red button was punched to confiscate the slack given to the chain and the sudden wrench on Katarina's neck emphasised her captor’s ire.

Almost unbearable, Katarina stretched as far as she could, desperate to relieve the chafing. She felt one leg lifted and hooked over the shoulder of the girl who now knelt at her feet. Balanced on a single slender heel and toe, Katarina could now do nothing but hop backwards as the girl pushed again until she was happy that Katarina had settled where she wanted against the waiting frame.

Cold against her calf was followed by the same above and below her knee, then across her thigh until Katarina was one with the frame. Narrow black titanium bands, barely distinguishable from her outfit, fixed her leg in place. Her other was soon embraced in the same unforgiving way. Unable to move. Locked in place as if welded still.

The girl rose and again passed behind Katarina, whose fear was rising with every act. Numbed as they were, she didn't notice as the girl forced her heavily restrained arms away from her body to allow a telescopic pole to be extended up between her shoulder blades.

A new chill, this time against her spine, hinted to Katarina though. The pole having reached the desired height, a fumbling felt through the collar added the footnote that her neck was now also attached, holding her head up high. Strain on her shoulders was the epilogue to her incarceration. The girl locked the ring at the base of the armbinder low to the frame, forcing Katarina’s arms down. All done, all tight.

Arms folded, head cocked slightly to one side, the girl smiled as she assessed her handiwork. She reached forward. Katarina's eyes pleaded with her to stop. Whatever she was about to do, just stop. A palpable sigh even managed to escape around the edges of Katarina's lip-crushing gag as the girl unclipped the ceiling chain, finally detaching the torturous machine. No slack was regained though, no comfort returned as the vertical titanium rod at Katarina’s back held her rigid, her limbs bound.

'SQUIRM' the sign held before her said. Katarina needed no more encouragement and with all her strength she fought the metal bonds. Delicate but undeniably strong, her efforts only served to drain her strength and her hope as they held her inflexibly, rendering her totally immobile. The despair of immobility caused her muscles to twitch and the desire to flex them gnawed away at her. Her legs though may as well have been removed as she stood there, the frame holding her, positioning her, denying her.

A satisfied nod and another smile were Katarina’s reward and she watched motionless as the slave-girl Mela left the room. Alone with her thoughts, she could only wonder, ‘what next?’ She'd watched, waited for the slightest chance of escape but all this was too well planned. Without thinking, Katarina sucked, feeling the simulated veins against her tongue. As the despair played across her eyes, a tiny camera mounted in the corner of the room zoomed in to pick out her dejection.

A second item was wheeled into the room and placed before Katarina. The shape was vague but tall, veiled as it was by a purple cloth. Nudged to the left and then right, then left again, the girl positioned it carefully before leaving it for a moment, returning bundle in hand.

The girl scurried off yet again but in a heartbeat was back, this time standing at eye level thanks to a stool. The smile she held would melt any heart as her delicate features crinkled and her button nose wrinkled in a playful crease. It was hard to believe that within her she held such wickedness. Katarina couldn’t know what drove the girl, nor that she was only driven by a loving desire to please the Mistress who commanded her, a need that only Mela could truly understand.

A frown played on Katarina’s brow, trying to anticipate what came next. She watched as a tube and bottle were brought to the front of her gag. Unable to move, she could do nothing as it was attached to a small hidden valve that led to the cock trapped deep in her mouth.

'SUCK – ENERGY DRINK’, a new sign said. A sweet taste started to creep across Katarina’s tongue in stark contrast to bitter salinity. A gentle pat on the butt told her she had done well and the girl climbed down, laying the bottle aside, the bladder full again.

With her head now cocked to the side, the girl looked more like a playful kitten than a jailer but jailer she was. Her next act though betrayed the woman that lay beneath as she stroked a finger softly down Katarina's cheek, stopping at the leather of her gag and then tracing the edge around her distorted face.

The girl leant her head to each corresponding side to echo her exploration, fingers venturing left, head tilting to follow, fingers flowing right, head edging that way instead. It was the first tenderness Katarina had felt since the hotel room. Their eyes met and lingered. Katarina felt an unexpected connection to this girl, the same girl that was causing her such discomfort.

But why? Was she looking into her own future? Was she to be a slave as this young woman clearly was? Katarina already thought she had the answer but she didn’t want to know it. Only the gentle kiss on her nose broke into her thoughts, further surprising her with the softness it conveyed.

There was compassion in the girl’s eyes - a feeling of remorse maybe for the discomfort that she was compelled to cause? They connected, shared something. It was something intangible at first but after that brief look, Katarina felt how much she had missed the depth of connection to another human being since the loss of her parents. Katarina knew she must know more of this cute little devil, her jailer.

Their eyes locked again. A brief pause then the girl pressed her lips to Katarina's gag. With unexpected pressure, the kiss forced the thick latex cock deeper into her mouth. The girl’s eyes closed and Katarina’s lashes fluttered as a mirror. They shared a moment and that moment touched Katarina deeply.

Compassion shone in the midst of her captivity. The girl had humiliated her, driven her to new depths of despair and yet that compassion confused and caressed Katarina’s soul in a new way. As the girl finally broke her kiss, Katarina could hear the drumbeat of her own heart loud against her otherwise still muted world.

The opportunity came again to look deep into her captor's eyes and Katarina was not going to miss it. That cute smile. That delicate bone structure. That devil that played in her eyes. Only when her vision was obscured by the rough addition of a hood did she return to her frightening reality.

Small hands stretched latex over Katarina's gag and tugged it into place under her chin. Carefully the girl smoothed it over Katarina's ears, pinching it to snap back and mould to every contour of her face. A tug here and a tuck there and Katarina could feel the edges of the hood being drawn together behind her head.

The care of the girl to smooth away Katarina's hair came as no surprise. She knew now that the girl was attentive and strangely caring. There was more to her than just the action. With the back of Katarina's hood now fully closed, the gag pressed still tighter into her mouth, compressing her entire head in a tight latex prison. Katarina’s occlusion was now total.

CHAPTER IX - Her Revelation

Head to toe in latex, held fast and unable to move,
Katarina was an integral part of the frame on which she stood.

As the hood settled, Katarina took a breath through holes aligned with her nostrils. Two pinpricks of light appeared before Katarina's eyes and she realised she was at least permitted a modicum of vision. She tried to look to her left, to her right, but the pinpricks encouraged her only to look directly ahead and, as her last remaining contact with the outside world, she did so, straining to see anything within her minute field of view.

The girl who had seconds before seemed to offer a lifeline was now stretching up, fussing with something. Pulling side to side, pushing a hand down on top before tugging once again, she was seemingly satisfied. Another layer had been added to squeeze Katarina’s scalp.

The girl stepped back and her face settled deliberately into the limited vision Katarina was allowed. That cute and now familiarly quirky smile eased across her elfin features as Mela looked up and down as if sizing her prey up for something as yet unclear. A decisive nod confirmed her approval and sealed it with a kiss to Katarina's covered nose.

As that smiling face moved away, the lights dimming coincided with the pads beneath her catsuit humming into life. The room lost its surgical brilliance, replaced by the dazzle of a single spotlight above her which picked out the object draped in purple. Was this it? Was this the culmination of all she had endured? The grand finale? The questions swirled in Katarina’s head but with a swift tug and a flourish, the girl revealed the answer.

The image before her wrenched away what little breath Katarina had. Already shallowed by the remorseless embrace of the corset locked onto her, she froze at the image staring back at her, unable to even summon the control to breathe. Ungagged, smiling, delight seemingly playing in its eyes, the image both shocked and confused her.

She could feel the fat latex cock filling her mouth, trapping her tongue as it grazed the back of her throat. She could feel the crush of the leather cover trapping her lips against her teeth and yet the image in the mirror told a different story.

Katarina's head struggled with the mismatched image, not helped by the reducing clarity of her thoughts. The sedative lacing the energy drink within her gag increasingly dulled them and started to creep a shroud across her consciousness.

Through the pinprick eye holes Katarina could see it was indeed
her
reflection. The image's chest heaved in unison with her own. The hair though was not quite right, the face similarly so but it was all becoming difficult to place now, difficult to work out.

The haze descending on her mind parted momentarily. Katarina fought to find sense in it all. That fight allowed the realisation that her own hair had long been tucked under the hood and that the additional pressure on her scalp then had to be a wig. It was good, very good and was close to her own hair but not matched exactly. But why? That was the difficult part. Her head was starting to feel heavy, the muscles in her neck relaxing and but for the posture collar, her head would have lolled forward.

It was hard to stay awake, to work out what this all meant. A slow realisation unfolded. As it did, she plumbed further new depths of despair. The body in the mirror was hers, that was plain and the hair, well, close enough so only
she
could tell the difference.

A final recognition crept across her. The face that looked back at her was a copy of her own, a representation of her but in cold, unyielding latex. She was masked to be herself. She was a depiction, a smiling, happy caricature of herself. Tears openly flowed down the face of the inner Katarina, trickling down between the leather pad of her gag and the outward face, the joyous avatar of the despairing beauty concealed beneath.

She was herself, or at least
like
herself. As the girl started to wheel her toward the door, the mercury within the benwa balls awoke afresh. The strain of the day won the battle and the sedative engulfed the remainder of her reason in a final drowning of her consciousness, turning Katarina’s world to black.