The Kingdom Ch. 13

"In the top of your locker, you'll find a mesh bag filled with velcro straps," Roger explained. "Before you put on your catsuit, apply the straps to each of your ankles, wrists, knees, elbows, and shoulders. And make sure the metal clips are all positioned behind you so they'll line up with the slits on your catsuit."

I located the mesh bag in the locker and began the process of accessorizing my joints with velcro straps. Each strap was labeled with its corresponding body part, leaving little room for error.

Once every strap was secure and each metal clip was rotated to my backside, I began the uncomfortable task of tugging the skin-tight latex catsuit over me. After a few minutes of hard work and perseverance, I finally managed to zip everything up and pull each metal clips through the adjacent slits.

"Okay," Roger said. "Now we get you locked to your podium. This way."

Following him over to the workshop side, we stepped up to a bizarre pipe structure that stood roughly 5 feet high. I stared at what he called my podium, wondering what the hell I was even looking at... It almost looked like a piece of a modern art you'd find in a fancy lobby.

Basically, it was a curved stripper pole extending upwards from a wooden platform. At its center, poles branched out from both sides to roughly mimic a figure-8. After studying it for a few more seconds, I noticed that the whole product appeared to resemble a human being. A sort of stick figure squatting low to the ground with its arms over its head.

Just then, everything clicked. Similar to the manikin I'd inspected by the checkout, this pipe sculpture was actually a frame. An outline for a person to be secured to. I was to be strapped to the pipe structure at each of my joints, locking me into the same figure-8 position as the stick figure...

Roger knelt down to his knees and began adjusting one of the pipes. The longer I stared at the device, the more I dreaded what the next three hours would entail. My mind suddenly began racing to think of a way out of this predicament. What if I tried to seduce Roger? Would he even go for it? I never fancied myself as much of a seductress, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to try. As distasteful as it might have seemed, I'd much rather give the fat bastard a blow job than spend the next three hours in restrictive bondage. I quickly brainstormed on how to best pursue this objective...

"So, basically I just... stand here three hours?" I asked. Roger didn't reply but rather continued fidgeting with the base of the pipe structure. "Doesn't sound very exciting," I said taking a step toward him.

"Oh, don't worry," Roger chuckled, standing up straight. To my frustration, he didn't seem to notice my proximity and remained focused on the device. "It'll get plenty exciting for you once the customers start arriving."

"Well, what about for you?" I asked, taking another step closer to him. It was at this moment that he noticed how close I was to him and he gave me a surprised double-take. "Wouldn't you rather I do something a bit more... mutually beneficial?"

Roger cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned away to avert my gaze. I took one last step toward him, pressing my latex-clad body against his. "What if I could make your shift more exciting?"

"And how might you do that?" a husky voice suddenly said from behind me. Surprised, I spun around to see a large unattractive woman with frizzy hair approaching. I recognized her as the woman who was operating the other register the day prior. She was wearing a maroon polo shirt that matched Roger's and had a nametag that read BRIDGET. Standing nearly a foot taller than me, her broad shoulders and body mass index made her quite an intimidating sight.

"What's going on here, Roger?" She asked, folding her large arms across her chest.

Roger suddenly straightened up and placed his hands by his sides, almost as if a drill sergeant was addressing him. "Nothing," he replied, clearing his throat. "Nothing. Um, this is Jodie. She decided to take her slave's place for number nine's shift.

The woman named Bridget walked over to the two of us wearing a suspicious look on her face.

"Mm-hmm," she muttered. "And is that why you've grown yourself a little erection?"

Roger shifted uncomfortably in his stance. "No- I don't have a- it's a... It's just the way I'm standing... Ma'am."

Bridget stepped in closer to Roger and reached out to cup his crotch with her hand. "You're a little liar," she whispered.

Roger didn't respond, but I could see that his face had suddenly grown beet red.

"Go put on your chastity cage and I'll handle the girl from here," she said in a low voice.

"Yes, ma'am," Roger replied pathetically, hanging his head.

"Quickly!" she snapped loudly at him, the sound of her voice echoing off the walls. Roger flinched at her command and began jogging away. "And then relieve Alex at register one!" A few moments later, the woman and I were alone.

Bridget turned back to face me. "So," she said curtly, "Your slave's the one who tried to steal from us, huh?"

"No," I said, taking a deep breath to compose my explanation. "She was trying to return something that I'd taken by accident." Bridget's overgrown eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yesterday, your employee barged in on me in the fitting room when I was naked. As a result, I was flustered and forgot that I still had stuff in my bag when I left."

"Ahhhh," she said dramatically. "So, it was his fault that you chose to steal from us?"

I exhaled slowly, trying to compose myself before I accidentally head-butted the bitch. With forced restraint, I explained, "I purchased something else, but I forgot that I still had more in my-"

"Psssssh!!" Bridget cut me off loudly, holding up her index finger. "I don't care why you did it. My only interest is rectifying the offense."

I sighed, recognizing the futility of arguing with this bitch.

"Whatever your story is, my husband made you an offer and you accepted it," Bridget replied, placing her hands on her hips. "Period." The fact that these ugly fucks were married was generally unsurprising. I shuddered to imagine the hideous gene pool they'd pass to their offspring if they ever conceived.

Bridget then pulled a cell phone out of her pocket and lifted it toward my neck. But a split second later, her smug expression vanished and she pulled her phone backwards.

"Where's your collar?" she asked, sounding alarmed.

"I... don't have one," I replied.

"Your slave's collar," She corrected herself impatiently. "Did she not leave it with you when you took her spot?"

"Uh, no," I replied, taken off-guard. "Was she supposed to?"

Bridget sighed. "Roger should have made that clear," she muttered, shaking her head. "Welp, in that case, you'll be modeling one of our collars." Moving right along, she stepped past me grabbed the vertical pole of the pipe structure I was to be secured to. "Step up to the podium and place the balls of your feet on the red circles."

I begrudgingly followed her orders and stepped onto the base of the pipe structure. Crouching down, Bridget grabbed my calf and fiddled with the clip attached to my ankle strap. For a split second, I contemplated kneeing the woman in the head. A good hard hit to the temple might've been enough to level her... But I ruled out the idea almost as quickly as I thought of it. I'd essentially be trading 3 hours here for several days in the kennel on assault charges. At this point, the best option available to me was to grit and bear what was about to happen.

My window of opportunity officially closed as I felt each of my ankles get secured tightly to the pipes behind them.

"Squat," Bridget ordered. I followed her command and squatted low until my hamstrings and ass came to rest on the corresponding pipes. Making her way up, she repeated the process of securing the straps at each knee, shoulder, elbow, and wrist. The end result was me- frozen in place against the pipe structure. My legs were spread wide and bent in a squatting position. My back was kept arched and my hands were secured over my head to the top of the vertical pole.

While this position would undoubtedly been quite stressful to sustain under normal circumstances, the piping beneath and behind me allowed me to rest my weight comfortably. What it would feel like three hours from now, I couldn't say. But at the present, I felt no immediate discomfort. This, unfortunately, was all about to change.

"Lovely," she mused as she straightened up. "This position suits your body frame nicely."

"Great," I replied, sarcastically.

"Wait a minute!" Bridget interjected, suddenly looking taken aback. "I recognize you, now! You're the champion of the hunt!"

I nodded my head unenthusiastically. "Yep," I replied.

"Wow!" Bridget exclaimed, laughing. "Well, isn't this a treat! It's not every day we have a celebrity model for us."

I forced my face to remain expressionless, trying not to appear concerned by her excitement.

"Well, now that I know who you are, I'll definitely have to find you a featured spot on the floor. Perhaps even the front window!"

I could feel my blood pressure rising with each word she spoke.

"And we'll skip the hood, for sure," she continued giddily, sticking her hand into her back pocket. "A face as recognizable as yours needs to be seen!" I maintained my cool as she produced a hair tie and began running her hands through my hair. After a few moments, my hair was tied into a ponytail at the back of my head.

Bridget then turned and stepped over to my locker. While she was looking away, I seized the opportunity to test my restraints. After a few seconds of tugging, I sighed in defeat, recognizing how secure I was.

From my locker, Bridget retrieved a grey plastic bin and carried it back over to me. Crouching down in front of me, she removed the lid to reveal the items that I dreaded most. Inside was a large ribbed dildo, metallic butt-plug, and several coils of wires. Picking up the dildo, she connected an electrical cord to its base and then peeled off a condom, revealing a phallus that had been pre-lubricated. She used her free hand to unzip the crotch of my catsuit and find my pussy lips with her sausage-sized fingers.

Without warning, she positioned the dildo at my clit and shoved upward. I gasped as the large cock forced its way deep inside me. Good GOD it was big! And long!! My eyes closed, as I fought off the arousal that accompanied the unwelcome invasion. Once the shaft was completely submerged, I slowly opened my eyes. My catsuit was already starting to feel tighter around my breasts as I began to breath deeply.

"Do not let that fall out," she ordered, prompting me to clench my abdominal muscles. Not that I needed to. Even with the lubricant, the dildo was far too wide and ribbed to go anywhere on its own.

Next, Bridget picked up the metal butt-plug and connected an electrical cord to its base. Like the dildo, the bulb of the plug was also protected by a condom. As she peeled it off, I could see that it, too, was slick with lubricant. Twisted as these sick fucks were, the use of condoms to pre-lubricate the toys was certainly efficient and sanitary.

Lifting it up to her face, she used her thumb to press a button at the base of the plug. My jaw suddenly dropped as I watched the bulb suddenly split into three sections and spread to twice its original size.

"Ever used an anal-spreading pear plug before?" Bridget asked. I didn't reply as I stared in horror at the device.

She laughed at my expression as she lowered the object toward my sex. "I'll take that as a no," she said. "You're in for quite a stretch, champion."

"Wait," I said, uselessly tugging on my restraints. Bridget ignored me and proceeded to position the plug beneath my asshole. "Wait, wait-wait-wait!" I said more forcefully.

Bridget stopped and leaned back to meet my gaze. Her ugly face suddenly looked unnervingly pleased by my display of resistance. "You're on the clock," she said coyly. "Stalling won't help you now. This is going in your ass whether you like it or not."

"Wait- can we talk about this for a second?" I asked desperately. "This is crazy."

Bridget chuckled as she leaned back toward me and repositioned the plug beneath my anus.

"Do you want money?!" I continued frantically. "I can pay- I can invest in your busi-aaaauooouch FUUUUUCK!!" My fingernails dug into my palms as the plug painfully forced its way into my ass.

"Don't fight it," she warned in a singsong voice. "Just take it. A little further, aaaaand we're in."

"SHIIIIT!!" I screamed. Once the bulb made its way passed my sphincter, the intense pain had ceased. But the discomfort and humiliation of having my ass plugged remained. I gave a small test push to see how secure the plug really was. I exhaled in defeat as I came to grips with its permanence. I growled softly through clenched teeth, glaring at the floor in helpless frustration.

Then, Bridget zipped the catsuit back up over my sex, effectively locking the devices inside my body. The only visible evidence of their existence were the electrical cords dangling from the back of the zipper.

"Not so bad now, is it?" Bridget asked patronizingly. Stooping down further, she pulled the cords behind the vertical pole and plugged them into receptacles at its base. "You wait-" she continued, "By the time your shift ends, you'll be sad to see it go." I literally bit my tongue to keep from cussing her out.

Then, she stood upright and unzipped the top my catsuit down to my belly button. Without reservation, she reached both hands inside of my lapels and pulled out my breasts.

"My, what perfect C's you, have," she cooed condescendingly as she lifted my breasts up and allowed them fall back down. I scowled at her, loathing her sense of entitlement. Blackmailing me into working a shift as a bondage model was bad enough without having my body handled. Once again, my head danced with fantasies of head-butting the fat bitch.

Next, Bridget reached into the bin and withdrew two long wires. Attached to the end of each wire was what looked like two half-dollar sized, donut-shaped stickers. Peeling off the stickers' clear plastic backing, she carefully applied them to my each of my breasts. Given the stickers' donut shape, both of my exposed nipples poked through the hole in the center.

Pulling the nipple wires up my chest, she laid one over each shoulder and ran them around my neck to meet at the rear. Then, she pulled my catsuit's lapels together and zipped me back up. Grabbing the wires that protruded from the nape of my catsuit, Bridget swiftly connected them to what I guessed was a receptacle on the pole behind me.

Looking pleased, she stepped back to admire her work. Appearing to remember something, she suddenly snapped her fingers and spun toward the shelves behind her. Moments later, she returned holding a black posture collar. Without speaking, she lifted the rigid collar to my neck and began lacing it from the back. When she finished, I could barely move my head and my chin was trapped in a lifted position.

"All set," she said, apparently satisfied with the final product. "And just in time for morning rush hour!"

I rolled my eyes as Bridget then produced a huge black bit-gag to my mouth. "Open wide," she ordered. Failing to see the upside of resisting, I obliged. Moments later, the large cylindrical rubber gag was wedged between my teeth and the strap was buckled tightly behind my head.

"Alright, let's get you out there, champion," Bridget said as she stepped behind me. I let out a muffled squeal as I found myself being angled backwards. The entire platform was tilted until I was practically looking straight up at the ceiling. Then, as if on a dolly, Bridget began to roll me from the break room and through the overstock bay.

Passing through the STAFF ONLY doors, I winced at the return of the loud rock music that blared overhead. My eyes began to dart around the market, surprised and horrified to see the many customers that had arrived in the 15 minutes I'd spent getting ready. Several male customers stopped what they were doing to ogle at me as I passed.

"Whoa- is that..." one customer began.

"The champion of the hunt?" Bridget interjected loudly. "You bet it is! Just joined our staff this morning." I rolled my eyes at how evidently proud she was with herself. "Roger!" she called to the front of the market. "Clear a path for me to wheel our new model into the front display!" she called over to the register.

"Yes ma'am," Roger replied from behind an empty register, springing to action and jogging over to the window by the entrance. Working quickly, Roger managed to move and rearrange all of the featured products away from the center just before I was rolled up.

"Here we are," Bridget announced as she rolled me as close as I could get to the glass. I gasped as she abruptly dropped the front of the platform to rest flat on the floor. "Perfect visibility for all our prospective customers."

The streets and sidewalks were now busy with pedestrians. Similar to my reaction the day prior, several passersby did a surprised double-take once they realized that I was actually a real person as opposed to a plastic manikin.

One guy even stopped in his tracks and backed up in order to take a closer look at me. I rolled my eyes as he scanned me up and down. After a several seconds of creepily staring at me, he then leaned over to inspect a sign that was suction-cupped to the inside of the window. Following his gaze, I recognized it as the laminated pricing scale that I'd read the day prior.

Reading the letters in reverse, I refreshed myself on what I had to look forward to each time a sale was made. $1 to $49 in purchases would result in 15 seconds of stimulation, $50 to $99 would result in 45 seconds, and over $100 would result in 3 minutes.

"Alright, champion," Bridget cooed at me as she stood upright. Grabbing my chin with her chubby fingers, she turned my face toward her. I winced in discomfort from the strain on my posture-collared neck. "You've got the next three hours to be spectated and over-stimulated. Since you're not wearing a smart collar that monitors your vitals, I'll have to check in on you a bit more frequently." I rolled my eyes, silently lamenting the idea of having to deal with regular patronizing visits from this bitch.

"And since we never did put our arrangement in writing, maybe we'll even stretch your time to a double shift."

These words made my eyes shoot wide open in rage. "Mmph ullph mph mmmphrrrr!" I objected angrily at her causing her to belly laugh.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," she chuckled, patting my cheek. "I'll determine whether or not you're up to the challenge."

"Mmph uuuulph!!" I protested. Bridget ignored me as she gave my restraints one last once-over. "MMMMMMPHHHH!!" I reiterated desperately.

"Oh hush," she replied, condescendingly. "Roger and I both pulled triple shifts back when we were testing the concept for the store. You'll be more than fine for a double."

I scowled hatefully at the fat skank as I tried to control my breathing through my nose. In hindsight, I so regretted not head-butting the bitch when I had the chance.

"And if your slave shows back up," Bridget continued smiling, "I could always rig her up right next to you! Based on my own experience on the podium next to Roger for 9 hours, I'm certain the two of you would appreciate the bonding time."