Click And Collect: Storage Solution

[Recap: At the end of Click And Collect: Self Storage, Hayley volunteered to be sealed up to experience the thrill of self storage. Clea and Max last appeared in Click And Collect: Service Call]

---

We stood in the bedroom section of the store, opposite the large wall display. Max walked up to the wooden panelling and rapped it with his knuckles. His wife looked on.

"Seems pretty sturdy. What do you think Clea?"

She approached the panel also, running a hand over the wood. I watched them stand there, silently contemplating the fold-down bed. Max was a big man, broad and muscular, with dark, curly hair and a neat beard. Clea was dwarfed in her husband's presence, standing no taller than his shoulder even in her low heels. She was waif-thin, her stomach and chest flat, but toned, like a ballerina. Her blonde hair was cut into a short bob.

"The frame will hold the weight," I told them, "Do you want to see it opened out?"

Max nodded, and I pulled on the handle set into the top of the panel, swinging the entire section down to the horizontal and revealing a queen-sized mattress and pillows.

"Looks comfy," Clea observed.

"Yes," I replied. "Of course, you can use it as a bed, too, if you have guests over. It sleeps two."

I watched Max, as his eyes roamed over the installation, studying it.

"How does it work then?" he asked eventually.

I knelt down by the side of the bed and tugged on a zip running down the length of the mattress.

"The mattress is quite revolutionary. It's not a single piece."

I peeled the cover back to show them.

"It's a set of interlocking cubes. The idea is that each part of the mattress can have different firmness levels, all you have to do is pick which cube to place where in the mattress. I'm told it's an ideal solution for if your partner is a little heavier or lighter and needs different levels of support."

Clea laughed softly. "We should get that for our main bed. Finally, stops me rolling into you in the middle of the night."

Max frowned playfully, "I like you rolling into me though."

"Hah, yeah, but sometimes I'm afraid I might get crushed."

I took the banter as a good sign. Clea and her husband were clearly on the same page with the proposition. It had surprised me a little, given that Clea had been the one to suggest it, and had confessed to being a little concerned as to how Max would respond.

"So what do you think?" I prompted, "Do you want to go ahead?"

Clea turned to me. "I think so. I think Max might have some questions though."

She stroked her husband's arm tenderly, "It's all pretty new."

Max straightened up and I was suddenly aware of how broad he was. I imagined that Clea would find herself dominated by his bulk in the bedroom. I suspected that was why we were here.

"What are the modifications?" he rumbled.

I gave him a reassuring nod and began to point out features of the bed.

"We will need to make the wooden back panel detachable, to expose the back of the mattress. Oh, and the mattress itself will need to change. We can keep many of the padding cubes, but the covering will need to be swapped to latex for the seal. Any colour preference?"

I zipped the mattress back up and flipped the bed back to the vertical position while I waited for an answer. Max was still processing the entire thing, I could tell. It must have been quite a shock when his wife had sat him down and broached the subject of her predilections.

Max shrugged, "That's Clea's department. Baby, what do you think? What would look nice?"

Clea stood in front of the wood panelling for a while, her eyes playing over the surface, imagining.

"White," she said at last. "I'd like it to be white. I think it would look wonderful."

I nodded agreement and Max clapped his large hands together, mustering bravado.

"Okay, where do we sign?" he said.

"Follow me," I replied.

I took them to the back of the store, into the office. The wooden floor tiles creaked slightly under Max's weight. Clea took a chair, sitting with me at the desk while I began to fill out the order form, noting their customisations and fixing a delivery date. I watched Clea, pen in hand, scrutinising each line of the details. Her dainty nose scrunched slightly as she read through the customisations, but eventually she signed at the bottom with a flourish and handed the pen back to me.

"So, you'll be installing as well."

"All part of the service."

"Will it just be you? Or will you be bringing your assistant too?"

"Hayley. Her name is Hayley."

"Okay, yes," Clea glanced through the one-way mirror, across the shop floor. "I'd expected to see her today."

"She's around," I said, "She's just in the middle of something she can't get out of."

"Oh."

It was the way that Clea said it that alerted me. I followed up quickly. "Would you have a preference for the installation? Sometimes it's easier."

Clea's expression changed, confirming my guess. "If I could have Hayley do the installation, I'd like that."

"Not a problem. Whatever makes you more comfortable with the experience."

Clea smiled and I stood up, closing the order book.

I shook Max's hand and then Clea's and escorted them to the office door. When they were gone, I closed the door and leaned back against it, collecting my thoughts.

A plan had formed, unbidden, in my mind. It was above and beyond the service they had booked, but this would also be for Hayley too and, I admitted to myself, for me. My eyes dropped to the wooden floor tiles and my thoughts turned to what I was keeping there, in the darkness beneath my feet.

---

Milly was in the kitchenette when I decided to take my lunch break, which wasn't convenient. I had a small window of time to grab some lunch for myself, but first I needed to mix up a bag of food for the person I had in storage under the office. I couldn't really take out the baby formula in front of her without getting questions.

"Hayley still a no-show?" she asked as I boiled the kettle.

"Uh huh," I replied. I had no intention of getting drawn into conversation.

"Her mother must be pretty sick."

"Yeah, I guess."

Milly picked up her plate and put it in the dishwasher. Before she turned to leave, she stopped and waited until she had my attention.

"Well, send her my best," she said, and then headed back onto the shop floor.

Milly didn't believe the story, I thought, as I began to mix up the bag of baby formula. Had she noticed anything to give us away? Maybe I was looking pretty tired after sleeping in the office night after night. Had she seen the camp bed folded away in the corner and started putting the pieces together?

I shook the bag to make sure it was well mixed and then headed into the little office. No, I concluded, Milly suspected that Hayley and I were in a relationship, that maybe the camp bed was a sign that we were going through a rough patch. I began to pull up the heavy wooden floor tiles. No, I thought, looking down, Milly was a long way from the truth.

Beneath me, Hayley's huddled form was where I had put her, sealed securely in a black latex vacuum cube. I dropped down into the under-floor space and began the usual routine, swapping the nearly empty water bag for the baby formula and then switching the full urine bag for an empty one. I watched as the milky white substance began to empty out, painfully aware that I had no-one to guard the door if Milly came looking for me.

Hayley drained the feeding bag within a minute and I swapped back to a water bag. I wondered what it must be like for her. She was unable to move, in complete sensory deprivation, the only points with which she could mark the passage of time were when I fed her, and when the vibrator buried inside her began its edging cycle. Despite being my partner in our illicit side-business, offering specialised personal services such as the complete immersive storage experience that Hayley was currently enjoying, she was also my friend. I had come to miss her, even as I took care of the shape suspended within the glossy black plastic vacuum.

"Hayley," I murmured.

Aside from the slow expansion and contraction that shifted the light over the dark, glossy surface, that told me I was looking at a living, breathing person rather than some abstract latex sculpture, the shape didn't move.

I reached out and touched a dome in the surface and felt the sponginess of her hair, tied up into a tight bun before I had sealed her into the cube. I ran a hand gently down the side of her head and called out again.

"Hayley, can you hear me?"

The shape moved under my hand. A slow nod.

"Do you know what day it is? Do you know how long you've been in storage?"

Another movement, this time a shake of the head. I paused for a moment. The vacuum cube's complete deprivation of her senses had done its intended job, leaving the woman inside with no idea of how long her experience had been extended for. She had asked for the complete client experience, placing that decision solely in my hands, as Bronte had previously given control of her imprisonment to her husband.

"Do you want me to let you out?"

The shape didn't move. I waited for a response, but all I saw was a contraction of her entire body as if she was trying to curl herself up tighter, further into her inescapable latex jail. I climbed out of the under floor and dropped the wooden tiles back into place over her one by one. As the last tile slid into place, I'm sure that I saw her body quiver.

---

At closing time, Milly found me in the office finalising the paperwork for the day's takings.

"Carl and Emma have swept up," she reported. "Here's the till."

I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, holding the cash tray. I took it from her and began to pull out the notes.

"Do you need me to cover Hayley's shifts the rest of the week?" she asked.

"Thanks for offering, but no, I think she's going to be back at work tomorrow."

Milly smiled. "Good to hear it. Hope she's going good, poor thing."

"I'll come and lock up in a minute. Let me just get the cash stowed."

Milly's eyes drifted to the folded-up camp bed then back to me.

"I'd better also get that back to the display," I said.

Milly's face brightened and she bustled down the ramp onto the shop floor. I smiled to myself as I watched her leave. She had a full flock at home, but being mother hen just seemed to be part of her nature.

I counted and tallied the cash receipts and put the cash into the safe, then I heaved the camp bed down to the outdoors display before finally reaching the front doors. Carl was holding the door open for Milly as I arrived. I waved goodbye and locked up, finally able to have the place to myself.

I stood for a moment in the middle of the darkened shop floor, listening to the silence, but my thoughts kept coming back to the shiny black form held in tight control under the floor of the office. It was time to turn the anonymous shape back into a woman, I decided, but I was nervous: I didn't quite know what to expect.

Heaving the tiles up noisily, I was soon down in the under-floor area, crouching on my knees in front of the black latex cube. Embedded in the front face, the contours of Hayley's face and breasts were clearly visible, the breathing tube twisting from her mouth to a port in the corner of the cube. I held my hand up to it, feeling the draft of her breath over my fingers. I remembered her wide, green eyes as I sealed her into her confinement after dispatching Bronte with her husband. I recalled how she had writhed and struggled as I told her my plan to store her for an extended period, watching each day as the fight drained out of her and she began to accept her fate, sealed inside her latex cocoon.

I recalled how Bronte had been when I released her; there had been a vacancy in her eyes as she was directed to kneel, to service her husband's lover and finally, to allow herself to be packed up in a suitcase for transportation. A weekend suspended in the vacuum prison, unable to escape or resist the merciless edging of the vibrator inside her, had reduced a bubbly housewife and mother of two to a blank, obedient, submissive doll. My hand hesitated on the release valve, wondering what I was going to find when I opened the cube.

I was sure that Hayley was awake, judging by the way her breasts rose and fell, compressed within the glossy latex surface. I surveyed the outlines of her face, but was met with an expressionless, black, shiny mask. I tugged open the valve and waited as the air hissed into the cube.

It took a few seconds for the space to fill, releasing its unforgiving hold of the body within. I prised open the seal around the edges of the cube face and Hayley's body slumped forwards, pushing through the gap against me, sweaty and quivering. I held her in my arms for a long time, letting her gradually come to her senses. I felt her arms slide weakly around my torso, holding me tight as she relished the sensation after so long vacuum-packed in the silent dark.

Hayley didn't resist as I undid the buckle behind her head to slide the breath gag out of her mouth. I watched as her lips closed around the protrusion as I withdrew it, suckling at the shape that had been embedded inside her mouth for so long. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me as if surfacing from a deep sleep.

"Welcome back," I whispered.

Hayley craned her neck, bringing her face close to mine and before I realised her intention, she slid her tongue hungrily into my mouth and kissed me deeply. I didn't pull back. Welling up from within here I could feel the tension of having been enveloped without relief, suspended tightly in the dark, starved of all sensation. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling my body respond to her unfettered passion as she pressed her sweaty, naked skin to me. Finally, I broke off for air.

Her eyes were tunnelling into me, hard emeralds in the slick curves of her pretty face. I wanted so much to take her, right there on the concrete in the darkened space beneath the floor. My cock was aching for it, but I pulled back.

Hayley spoke. "I need you," she croaked.

I could see the desperate need in her face, her eyes begging for the release that the cube had denied her.

"No," I answered.

The words hit her like a blow. I could see the confusion behind her eyes, her mouth working but no words coming out.

"Not like this," I continued, "Not with you like this." I gritted my teeth, silently cursing myself, "You need to be in control of yourself."

Hayley's body crumpled, slumping against me as I held her in my arms. I understood now that the cube did strange things to the minds of its occupants, forcing them to focus on certain things, locking their thoughts in an endless cycle until their release. Hayley's thoughts had been on me, on being under my control. I couldn't take it any further while she was like this.

Eventually, I reached down between her legs and peeled the waste pouch away, revealing her engorged pussy lips. Hayley didn't move. I felt curiously detached from the scene as I dipped my fingers inside her to extract the source of her torture, the remote-controlled bullet vibrator. Again, Hayley didn't protest. Finally, I lifted her unresisting body up, out of the under-floor space.

I gathered her up in my arms and carried her out of the office, down the ramp and into the back. We passed the staff kitchenette as I took her to the shower cubicle in the bathroom area. I stood her back on her feet and she remained upright, wavering a little.

"Let's get you cleaned up," I murmured softly.

It took a while, turning her this way and that, getting her to raise her arms while I soaped her and worked the showerhead over her body. Through it all, Hayley simply obeyed all my instructions blankly as I washed away the odour of her captivity from her skin. Her nipples were thick and hard as I passed my hand over them, her labia red and swollen. I soaped my hand and brushed my fingers between her legs, conscious of the need to clean her where the waste pouch had been attached.

As I touched Hayley's pussy her body arched, spasming violently. She seized my hand, digging her fingers into my flesh as she pushed herself against my outstretched palm.

"Hayley," I began, but the look on her face cut me off.

She began to grind her crotch against my hand, moving frantically, humping my palm as her pent-up frustrations were released. I tried to pull away, but she held me in place.

"I need to feel you," she gasped, "I need to feel... fuck... feel something."

Her body gyrated, rubbing up and down until my hand was slick with her moisture. She began to shudder and groan, her eyes rolling back as her body went rigid. I felt a gush of liquid over my hand as her thighs and torso quivered, and tried again to withdraw my fingers, but Hayley wouldn't let me go. Her hands were wrapped tightly around my wrist and I felt her squeeze, her body contracting again and again, cycling through orgasmic waves as she braced herself against me. It had been the only thought in her head for days, isolated in her little dark world, unable to move, unable to gain the slightest bit of friction to offset the toy buzzing through its tortuous cycles deep within her. Now at last, her body was finding its own release after the days of endless denial.

"I'm sorry," I said.

At last, she raised her face to me, and I could see some of the spark had returned to her eyes.

"Don't be."

I rinsed her off and helped her out of the shower. She was able to stand unassisted as I went to fetch her clothes, leaving her to towel herself dry. When I returned, she was standing where I left her, auburn hair still gathered up into a bun, completely naked with the towel discarded at her feet. She made no attempt to hide herself or cover up.

"Let's get you dressed," I said, holding out her folded clothes to her.

She took them from me with a word.

"I'll wait outside."

"Please yourself."

When she emerged from the bathrooms, she was once again in the company-issue Harbinger's blue and white shirt, with grey skirt beneath, as if this was just the end of another long day at work.

"Let me run you home," I offered.

"Okay."

I walked her out of the staff entrance but when we got to the carpark, she stopped.

"My home?" she asked, "Or yours?"

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