Suits You, Sir

When she had signed up for the retreat that boasted "complete physical and mental freedom, healing and reconditioning" she hadn't thought it would be this kind of trip. But here she was, in the hole nearly five-thousand dollars, in another country, and thoroughly on her own. She'd even left her fucking phone at home, on account of this being a supposed "wellness retreat" with the intention of leaving behind social responsibilities, technology, and even life itself, to an extent. So, as the strange woman smiled at her and reached down between her legs to run the zipper up her body from bare pussy to equally as bare neck, she could only flinch and pray that this one wasn't going to fuck her up too badly.

She stood in a rubbery suit that covered her from head to toe, not overly weighty but thick enough to add a layer of separation between her and the outside world, a little like a wetsuit - or perhaps, a gimp suit, given its latex-like outer surface, she thought. It was tight but the inside was lubricated, making for a smooth, if slightly compressing wrap around her skin, reaching up to the base of her jaw thanks to a tall, thick collar. Distantly, she hoped that these suits were cleaned properly between uses, given the nakedness of her body beneath the rubbery material.

As the zip rippled between her breasts, Leah McDermont closed her eyes, allowing the suit to close all the way up to her chin around her body. She swallowed, her flowing strawberry hair still half-maroon from the dye she had done with her friends a few months ago, but now starting to grow back out into its typical strawberry-orange hue, and currently pinioned up in a tight ponytail that was balled up at the back of her skull. Blinking, Leah reopened her eyes in time to see the diminutive, olive-skinned woman tending to her now-captive body stepping away, leaving her in her cocoon. She wanted to say something, to ask about pulling out, to request water, anything to keep the girl with her a little longer - but nothing came. Instead, all she felt was the unusual pull of the slippery yet sticky rubber all around her body, scratching her nipples and pressing into her skin. She swallowed. A couple of seconds later, a buzzer nearby sounded, and the box around Leah hissed, the front section sliding closed and both sides pushing together, clamping around her neck with only an inch of room all the way around her collar, effectively sealing off her body from her head, only her rubber-suited neck sticking out from the rim of the box.

For a few minutes, nothing happened. Then, shockingly quickly, an alarm sounded somewhere overhead, and in an instant, Leah's previously figure-hugging rubber suit suddenly began to suction inwards, clinging tightly to her skin in seconds and closing, closing, closing further, threatening to squeeze the air from her lungs and snap every bone in her--

--It stopped. Just as Leah thought she was going to be crushed in a rubbery suit exactly shaped to her own body, it stopped, leaving her a stiffened, immobilised model of a woman where she stood. Leah tried her best not to panic as she waited for something to happen. She could feel the suit clinging to her body tightly, intimately, far too intimately for a supposedly non-sexual experience. Her bare flesh had not even a millimetre of skin untouched by the strange material. She could feel it pressing her breasts into her chest, making them feel round and tight. Her arms and legs seemed to be pinioned by the tightness of the suit, stuck in place by the suit's seams and natural shaping, her joints now gripped by the mass around her. Even her pussy--she swallowed as she felt it--was tightly hugged by rubber, her lips suctioned back and slightly apart around the thickness of the zipper in the middle. She could feel the material crushing into her slit, pressing slightly into her parting and suctioning against her clit and asshole. It was bizarrely intimate, and it might even have been rather erotic if she weren't in an alien place without any special, consenting partner to share her situation with. She would have preferred someone--anyone--be with her in that moment for reassurance, even the olive-skinned woman, who she wasn't even sure spoke English. But there was no one else.

Leah was just beginning to regain her breath and come to grips with her new situation when the mask appeared from behind her. She gasped, but that was all she had time to do as the rubbery insides pressed down over her face. It was like a balaclava, with cut-outs for her eyes, nose and mouth, and recessed sections for her ears. There was even a hole for her hair to pass through, which she learned was there when the unknown assailant applying the mask to her, sinched the slick material to her face with a clasp before pulling the knot that was her auburn ponytail through the hole and free. It was rough, and her hair pulled half out of the knot, but her gasp of pain and indignation fell on deaf ears as the person moved away once more. The sudden masking now complete, and Leah properly suited up like a real gimp girl, with her body now completely encased and nearly immobilised where she half-stood, half-hung in the box, covered completely save for her eyes and mouth, Leah could only wait for what came next.

It came in the form of hot steam, bursting forth from unseen vents in the container around her, specifically directed so that it impacted specific areas of her body. She could feel the rush of warmth, heavily insulated through the rubber as it spurted up at her, jets hitting her sides, her chest, her lower back, her thighs, and--a little sensitively--between her legs, aimed to punch against both her holes. A long hiss rang out as the box began pummelling her body with warmth, rhythmically jetting steam into her. All things considered, it was a fairly pleasant experience, and Leah actually found herself settling into the rhythmic pulsating quite quickly, feeling the warmth soothing her skin inside the suit as the heat slowly morphed from jets of steam into an indistinguishable slow pulse of warm, radiant, moulding pleasure. It was a subtle yet tender stimulation, the vents between her legs and aimed at her chest working particularly well to convert her nerves and stress into sensory stimulus, slowly diminishing her trepidation and changing it into a soothing, somewhat erogenous massage.

It took Leah a while to notice the slow beat that had begun to play from somewhere around her. When she did, she looked up, searching for the source of the sound, but all she could hear--and she wasn't even sure she could hear it, given the pumping pulse that was jetting into her rubbery second skin in time to the sound--was a nondescript bass tone of some kind. She blinked, wondering if she was hearing things, the heavy rubber clinging to her head making her skull feel too weighty to keep holding up, while the gentle, constant pressure of the warm steam jets made the rest of her body feel tingly and non-present, as if she were floating in a vibrating vacuum. She felt better now, distant, as if soothed into a lullaby of warm spaces and clinging, soft contact, as if her whole body was being hugged in a tight, soft, warm embrace. She just wanted to drift, losing herself in this intimate yet distant, and exceedingly unique, stimulation.

It was as Leah hung in this sub-space of dull pleasure that the visor was brought closer to her face, a supporting arm keeping the device steady as unseen hands reached for a clip on the top of her gimp-suited head, pulling it slightly so as to clip it to a suspension hook just above her head, effectively holding her head upright. Leah barely seemed to notice it now as the pulsating warmth radiated through her, gently stimulating her body as her nerves fired in response, synchronised to a gentle pulsating beat she could only just hear echoing from the room around her. She simply lolled where she hung, her head supported almost entirely by the hook as the visor was positioned before her eyes, orbital headphones designed to sit above the ears at close range rather than to seal overtop of them swinging into place either side of her head. Steam billowed from her hot box as her body was assaulted by waves of enjoyable jets of steam, with Leah breathing heavily but deeply through it all, having already wondered if all the unusual treatment was just a 'part of the experience' and concluded to herself that it must be, thusly allowing herself to relax into the admittedly very pleasant steam-massage-come-sauna experience.

When next Leah opened her eyes, she blinked in surprise, seeing before her not the darkness of her steamy enclosure, but instead a flickering, colour-filled world of three-dimensional light and sound. I must be asleep, she thought to herself in awe as she looked about herself, seeing dots of flickering light and spinning, washing tundras morphing and melding around her in all directions, as if she were the sun of a vast, glowing galaxy, that galaxy's multitude of planets and stars and gaseous clouds and a myriad of other things all firing off at once as she watched on from the centre of it all. It was hypnotic, mesmerising, fantastic, and Leah quickly found herself getting completely lost in it, her body lifting from the steamy hotbox and teleporting to this miraculous alien space. Whatever kind of dream it was, she thought absently, it was a vivid one, as real as if she had been teleported far from Earth in an instant.

Leah barely noticed the images as they formed from the light show around her, appearing for a mere moment before dispersing away again. In fact, she only noticed they were there at all when one formed directly in front of her eyes, filling her vision before bursting all around her spectacularly, the giddying light show making her body thrill in excitement - though what for, she didn't know. She grinned dumbly as lights sparkled in all directions, filling her field of view with a cacophony of magical energy, almost completely unaware of the rubbery body beneath her that was still being soothingly pummelled by jets of warm steam.

All of a sudden, as if realising herself for the first time, Leah blinked, feeling her body surging back beneath her - and gasped as she suddenly became aware of the tenderness of her pussy and the pumping of the steam's vibrations across her skin. She moaned involuntarily as her body's sensations suddenly returned to her, instantly realising just how aroused she felt. Her cunt was on fire, her erogenous regions alight with hot, shuddering bliss as the jets continued to pump into her, unrelenting and unchanging. She could feel the steam as it contacted her tightly sealed pussy, feel the warmth billowing through it a moment after the jet hit her there, the warmth taking time to make its way through the rubbery material so that the actual impact of the jet felt longer and more displaced, the warmth of the last impact not yet gone by the time the next jet hit her body. Perhaps she was just over-stimulated, but had Leah been able to think properly, she might have sworn she could feel every droplet of condensation as it rolled from her black rubber skin, sliding over her mound and down between her legs before dripping away into nothingness. It was as if her rubbery outer layer had become her new skin, a tough, shiny, impenetrable black mass that locked the pleasure inside and kept the nasty outer world at bay.

Amazed at herself, she realised she was horny. Incredibly so. Indeed, every new pulse of steam against her needy cunt and exposed clit made her want to explode, the jets seemingly timed perfectly so as to just allow her building release enough time to dip back down before being shunted right back up again by the next jet. She gasped, staring wide-eyed into the infinite snowscape of light around her as she felt just how on-fucking-edge she was at that exact moment. She had no idea how long she had been here, no idea how she had grown so aroused by the steam massage, no idea even if this was the intention in the first place--all she knew was that she yearned to cum beyond anything else. She wanted to explode, to burst like the light shows all around her vision, to cream the insides of her suit as an overpowering, shuddering, cunt-destroying orgasm ripped from her needy, heated, desperate hole and--

A screeching, harsh buzzer sounded, tearing Leah from her revelry and surprising her, making her tense body jerk, the tight suit clinging to her and pulling against her skin in ways that drove her nerves insane. Then, the lights all around her petered out, the gassy clouds and vast star fields fading away. She wanted them back instantly, the darkness that settled into their place vastly more oppressive and far less magical. She felt a jerking tug from somewhere above her, and suddenly her head felt very heavy. She struggled to raise it as the hot box around her intensified its steam pulses, gasping for air through the mouthpiece of the mask as she felt her arousal finally being pushed higher and higher. She knew that this was it, and instantly forgot everything but the bliss as her climax was forced upon her, each pump coming ever so slightly faster than the last, building her closer and closer to a shuddering, body-rocking release that would send her explosively through one of the most intense orgasms she had ever felt. It was just a few pumps away now, just a few more hot rushes and shocking steamy jets against her needy, rubber-bound slit, her buzzing clit a blaze with electricity as the jets came faster and faster and faster and--

--The hotbox split apart, retracting from her body as the front section withdrew to allow someone access to her restricted, rubbery body. Gasping and panting, only the all-encompassing need filling her mind, Leah could do nothing but mewl plaintively with lust as someone stepped up close to her, reaching around her body for something, certain that she had only been one single steamy thrust away from imploding. Moments later, Leah jerked as something detached from the base of her neck just above and between each shoulder blade, her suit deforming as a tiny bit of pressure relieved itself from the rubbery restraints, not enough to allow her freedom within the suit's grasp, but enough to free her joints and muscles. She felt fresh air pour into her lungs, felt her arms and legs jerk as motion returned to them, but all Leah could focus on was the sensation of her pussy pulling against the material, sticky and hot, the lubricated insides of the suit denying her even the tiny stimulation of its rubbery touch, yet the pressure still keeping it tightly suctioned against her nonetheless.

'Slave G-43.' A flat, feminine voice said in her ear, making Leah jump. 'You are to begin service in the Grand Shorefront Hotel, private dining hall 3, as a waiter. Move.'

The hand that impacted Leah's tight, shiny ass made her gasp in shock and bliss as the sensation radiated throughout her rubberised skin, and although Leah could still only barely think beyond the hungry desire to squirt into her goddamn suit like a fucking hydrant, her legs seemed to move of their own accord. She blinked, seeing flashing images not of the peaceful, mesmerising spaciness of her previous trance filling her mind, but rather that of--she gasped, her pussy clenching in arousal and lust--tens of sexual acts filling her mind's eye. She looked this way and that, seeing black, rubbery bodies bent over beds as unknown bodies plundered them from behind, kneeling before them as they penetrated the gimped woman's face, or their legs split wide to descend over male appendages, all amongst hundreds of flickering glimpses of sensual, shapely women in their black suits, their curves and forms flashing in the light enticingly. It was all Leah could do to clench in pleasure herself, her stifled orgasm bubbling instantly back to the very edge, threatening to overflow at any moment.

Half an hour later, her new rubbery skin dried and cleaned by the touch of another similarly clad woman, her body clad in nothing else, it's shape presented for all to see, Leah carried a lavish platter of meat and salad in her hands, her rubbery suit rubbing at her body as she walked, providing her constant stimulation as she rushed to deliver the order to its respective table. Unable to think past the razor's edge of bliss her body seemed to be hooked upon and her vision clouded by the ghostly image of cocks pumping into rubber-suited pussies and mask-clad faces, Leah barely noticed the rich suits and expensive dresses the patrons wore or felt the softness of the extravagant carpet beneath her covered feet, her brain desperate only to feel the release her body so desperately, wholly craved--or at least to be allowed to climb down from the high, into a frustrated yet once-more sentient brain space. Her eyes failed to see the gold and colour hanging from the ceiling and walls, or see through the full-length, seamless glass surrounding the dining hall on three sides, the view outside looking upon a gorgeous, flawless horizon of water and moonlight with a view that would have put a lighthouse to shame.

Instead, she just allowed the man nearest her to press his fingers into the rubbery flesh of her ass and slip his meaty digit around to the soft, rubberised likeness of her pucker, the sensation stimulating her already over-strung body but herself unable to react. When she had placed the platter down, she turned to leave, her movement dragging the man's touch from her ass to her front side, where the same fingers immediately slipped against the silhouette of her cunt, feeling the soft folds, the shape of her lips, the pressure of the suit against her shape. Leah couldn't, but she wanted to moan and thrust herself like an animal onto those fingers, desperate for release beyond all rationality. The man grinned, sliding his hand over her smooth thigh as he retracted it to reach for a cut of freshly cooked, glistening meat, laughing once more with his colleagues.

Everywhere Leah turned, she saw images of herself--she couldn't stop herself from inserting her body and face into the black rubber suits inside her mind--in all kinds of sexual acts, the thoughts reinforcing the bliss her body seemed to be unable to climb down from. Even as her wanting pussy burned in her suit and her tightly clamped breasts rubbed against its restraint, her thickened nipples gripping the inside of the suit, she could not tear herself from the ghostly images enough to touch herself or seek external stimulus. No, instead, the entrapped Leah simply returned to the kitchen, where other similarly clad women, their breasts pressing sexily against their suits, their bodies perfectly replicated in the gleaming rubbery texture of their suits, everything but their hair, eyes and puffy lips hidden from direct view, moved all about her, carrying plates back and forth and performing other menial tasks.

Leah never realised she had been carefully programmed to be a gimp servant. Never knew the magical space-like experience she had seen had not been a dream, but rather the three-dimensional world of a mesmerising trance full of implantations and suggestions, coupled with the stimulus of sound and touch and sight, all designed to bypass her usual mental defences and sink deep to her core, where they took hold and influenced her mind even as her consciousness sat atop them, apparently none the wiser.

No, even as Leah yearned for orgasm, as her new second skin rubbed against her body, and as she served the crowd, her figure theirs to enjoy as they liked, the patrons in the hall various touching, gazing at, and later taking home--if they so saw fit--so as to perform for them as their personal slave for the duration of their stay, she was not even fully consciously aware that she had been reprogrammed so decisively in her steamy chamber. She would not become aware until long after her designated patrons had departed, and her usefulness as an obedient, mesmerised gimp slave had been depleted. She probably wouldn't even become aware of it for some time after she had returned home from her long, disconnected holiday, on some distant island, in some tiny, hidden wellness retreat. Perhaps she would only remember ghostly images, or perhaps be left with a newfound, inexplicable fetish. Perhaps she would simply feel as if she had had the best, most relaxing, most sensual holiday of her life.