The Tourist Trap Ch. 06 - Final

Retrieving the wipes and then the case from the drawer, they opened it and took out the passport and tickets, then the clothes. The idea of getting dressed was almost alien to them by now, and modesty seemed like a bizarre concept. The clothes represented the normality of the outside, and brought with it the obligation of hard conversations Quinn would need to have with her husband. Worse, the dread of having to explain a separation to her family with vague excuses, or explain this sudden change to her couple friends, but the enamour for all these new sexual experiences was too great. What she had with Will was too great.

"Uhh, Quinn?" Will muttered, laying out their clothes on the bed. The items they had been provided were certainly not from their own wardrobe. Will had been supplied with a light grey tailored suit, remarkably tailored in fact, seemingly designed for him, with a crisp white shirt that seemed to be missing a few buttons at the top, so it would expose a lot of Will's chest. It came with dark-brown leather loafers, and whilst it was nothing remotely similar to anything Quinn had seen him wear before, she could already imagine how good he would look in it.

"I kind of like it." She said with a cocked eyebrow, still drunk with lust.

"Wait till you see what they've left for you," he replied.

* * *

Ellen twiddled absentmindedly with a strand of her hair as the video ended, opening the top drawer and surveying the glass briefly. So they were going to be allowed to leave after all. That was comforting, but what she really wanted to know was what challenge she was being set! The fact this might be the last puzzle made it all the more compelling. Surely there would be one more. Yet nothing was being presented to Ellen except for the case. She took it from the drawer, looked at the latch and was disappointed to see only a clockwise arrow. She turned the mechanism, and the case clicked open, giving her access to the items inside. A timer flashed up on the TV screen, providing a 30 minute timer and a command to get dressed. Ellen sighed petulantly. As if she needed half an hour to get dressed.

Inside the case was a sheer black dress, the fabric slightly translucent, with a plunging neckline and baggy sleeves. It wasn't hers, but it was the sort of thing she would wear, so tugged it on and examined the fit in the wall-mirror. It was quite sexy! Ellen had forgotten how well a revealing outfit could be even more alluring than seeing someone naked. The dress came to mid-thigh, showcasing her long slender legs, with elastic around the waist so it hugged her hips nicely. It was really quite transparent, so much so that her breasts and pussy were distinguishable through the material. Thankfully some plain black underwear had been provided, so she took off the outfit and re-dressed. The bra was a snug fit, giving some lift to her tits. It felt expensive, with a small bow in the centre, smooth lace around the front, and a clasp on the back that went on more easily than any she owned. Instead of the thong or panties she might have expected, she had been given some boy shorts, made of some fabric blend which felt like spandex and cotton, but was strangely not very elastic. Ellen worked them up her slender legs, admiring how she looked in the mirror, but unable to shake a feeling of unease. Everything about how she had been led to this room felt like a setup for a final challenge, but none had come. Something about that lack of payoff was more disconcerting than anything else she could have been presented with.

No, there was something else. As she shrugged the dress on again, she realised the lack of a challenge wasn't the only thing that felt off. The lack of elasticity in the underwear was... uncomfortable. Too restrictive. It seemed to cling to her thighs and her hips. Pressing into her groin and squeezing her bum. She reached under the dress to re-adjust it, but found she couldn't. It was so confining that she decided she would rather wear no underwear at all, so tugged them downward but they didn't budge. Somehow the waistband had tightened, the leg holes too, and it was immovable. Growing quickly agitated, Ellen stopped and stood to collect herself. It struck her that this was surely a challenge after all, and before her smirk had time to form, a thrumming vibration began to press against her clit, where she had already begun to grow wet. The buzzing was too slow, and so Ellen tried to use her fingers, rubbing over the fabric, but there was barely any give in the material and the vibrations only slowed if she tried to press it down against her mons. The underwear was some sort of modern twisted chastity belt, teasing her but preventing her from playing with herself.

She looked to see if there was anything else inside the case, unsure what she was hoping to find, but provided with only a small black shoulder bag with red polka dots which looked expensive, along with some equally fancy black strappy minimalist stilettos. She put the plane ticket and passport in the bag, and strapped on the heels, which were so high it forced her feet into a pronounced arch. They weren't very comfortable, but they looked beautiful, the red of her nails a welcome pop of colour amongst all the black, matching the detail of the handbag and the red soles of the heels. The bedroom door gave a click, and so Ellen left the room, disappointed to find that no-one else had come out yet.

Meena was staring at herself on the screen, the countdown timer having now lost several minutes. She couldn't believe after everything they had overcome, this challenge was proving so difficult. Masturbating was something Meena seldom did, and certainly never with someone watching her. Experimenting with recording sex in the past, Meena couldn't bear to see herself on a video, so this entire setup was a nightmare. Still, she reminded herself of the other hang ups she had conquered this weekend, and decided to conjure some resolve and just do it. She brought her fingers to her clit and rubbed slowly, surprised to find how quickly she got worked up watching herself. Not only her, but someone else was watching too. Perhaps many, hundreds even, all with their eyes glued to her body, waiting for her to make herself cum for them.

She stared directly into the lens, so close to the screen that she was also made to watch herself playing with her pussy. Her breath quickened and moans rolled from her lips as the orgasm welled up inside her and released, her muscles tightening and then relaxing.

'1 of 3' read the text on screen, and Meena sighed, unsurprised but aggravated.

Parting her legs, she slid her fingers inside her this time, finding the sweet spot and grinding it with circular motions, her hips bucking instinctively as her moans loudened. She couldn't believe how readily she was debasing herself for an audience, but somehow the degradation fuelled her arousal, which doubled her volume, only making it all feel more demeaning and erotic. This upward spiral continued up and up, an orgasm swept up and out of her, Meena yelping in climax, juices squirting from her pussy as the wet walls clenched around her fingers.

With the third orgasm, she grew only more brazen, clambering onto all fours on the bed with her ass in the air and continuing her assault on her pussy. She imagined the audience was rapturous, perhaps populated with some of her school pupil's parents. The dads who let their eyes trail up her curves, or became bewildered by her cleavage. She hoped they were watching. Relishing the idea they were seeing her finger-fucking her pussy for them, as her legs shuddered with the intensity of another crashing orgasm.

By the time the screen reported '3 of 3', the room stank of sex. She slumped down on the bed with a sigh, turning over to see the TV blink off.

The case beside her clicked open, and after catching her breath she sluggishly turned the contents out onto the bed. Her stomach dropped as she realised the outfit chosen for her was perhaps as humiliating as what she had just been made to do. It was fairly risqué secretary attire, with black heels, sheer tights and a black mini-skirt. The white silk blouse was open at the top, sure to show off a lot of her cleavage, and no underwear had been provided. With a loud sigh, she resigned herself to it, knowing the doors were almost certainly locked until she got dressed. No bag had been provided, only a small black pouch the size of a journal, which she put her passport and tickets into. Looking at herself in the mirror, her thick rimmed glasses only accentuated the look, and the leather bag could easily have been mistaken for a pouch for files. Meena laughed, she was a textbook slutty secretary, her look plucked right out of some raunchy old porno. Embarrassing as it was, she had no other clothes, and she had to accept that this was how she was going to be forced to walk around the airport, and sit on the flight. She didn't even have her phone, or any money to buy anything else. Where anger would have surely bubbled up before, Meena found herself strangely amused by it all.

When the bedroom door unlocked with a clack, she almost didn't want to leave the room, but was curious what the others had been given to wear. Would it be worse or better if all the girls were all in matching secretary outfits? Meena wasn't sure, but as she emerged from the bedroom, she decided that she had definitely got the bum deal. Ellen was in an incredibly revealing, but otherwise perfectly normal black dress. Perhaps odd to dress for a flight as if she was heading to a nightclub, but otherwise Ellen looked like any other passenger, yet Meena felt like a walking sex doll.

"For fuck sake," Meena grumbled, only aggrevated further by a smirk from Ellen as she gave her friend a once over. At least Ellen's shoes looked to be more uncomfortable, seemingly twice as high as the short heels Meena was sporting. She walked over to where Ellen was leaning against the wall.

"Well look at you all sexed up!" Ellen jested, taking her friend's hand and squeezing it. As they made contact, Ellen jolted, the vibrations from her tight underwear ramping up. Her small squeak gave her away, and Meena sensed immediately that something was afoot, waiting for Ellen's eyes to open again and explain, "I'm... uh, trapped in some sort of vibrating underwear." Ellen admitted, drinking in Meena's grin. She was sure that if she could keep hold of her hand she would be able to cum quite soon.

The door to another of the bedrooms opened, Quinn and Will stepping out in their own outlandish outfits. Will looked the best Meena had ever seen him, and she was unsure if it was his appearance alone that made her knees feel weak, or the relentless orgasms she had just endured. The suit looked great on him, and something about the leather shoes and wide-open collar was extremely appetising. He had gotten away with something akin to Ellen's look: overdressed but not outwardly sexual. Quinn on the other hand had been made to wear an unreasonably short plaid blue schoolgirl skirt. It barely reached her knees, paired with a white blouse that would have been quite conservative if the bottom of it hadn't ended high enough that a little slit of her toned midriff and belly-button peeked out between the blouse and the waistband of the skirt. Quinn was grateful that there were no thigh-high white socks with the ensemble, instead given short white frilly socks and laced ankle boots.

"This place somehow manages to be predictable, and yet surprising at every turn." said Will, and they nodded, still in awe that they were going to have to go out like this.

A panel in the ceiling slid away on motors, and a red ribbon dropped down artfully, the weight of a key tied to the end pulling it downward, bouncing in place as it fell between where they stood in the hall, swinging back and forth suspended from the ceiling. It was closest to Meena, who stepped forward, snatching the key and needing both hands to untie it from the ribbon. Meena pulling her hand away unknowingly caused the vibrating underwear to slow, and Ellen sighed as the orgasm was stolen.

"Let's get the fuck out of this place, shall we?" Meena asked, marching to the door and slotting it in the fifth keyhole. There was a satisfying metal clunk as she turned the key in the latch, heaving the enormous door open with some help from Will. Quinn didn't wait for it to open all the way, charging out as soon as there was enough space, the rest following soon after. Ellen glanced back at the apartment one last time, committing the final image to memory before making her way down the stairs with the others.

Quinn hadn't been given a bag or any pockets, so Will carried her ticket and passport. It made him feel like they were a couple, despite the fact his attire seemed to more directly compliment Meena's secretary garb. Walking next to her as she clip-clopped awkwardly down the stairs in heels, it looked like she was his personal assistant. His cock stirred at the thought, but he had to remind himself how prominent an erection would be given the thin fabric of the suit trousers, and the fact he hadn't been afforded any boxers.

The last one out, Ellen watched on as her three friends bundled into the cab waiting outside, enjoying the sight of them in all their sexy and outlandish outfits. The girls' bums looked especially good in their short skirts, and her vibrator seemed to speed up to tease her a little more. Will took the front seat, and Ellen squeezed in besides the girls in the back. Her legs were pressed together in the small space, and it made the vibrations more intense, drawing a small moan from her which caught Quinn's attention with a smirk. The contact of her bare leg against Quinn's seemed enough to speed up the vibrator, and Ellen was already very grateful that the apartment had given her a souvenir to take home.

* * *

The camera feed of the empty apartment cut to black and a grateful audience shared their praise readily in the swathes of comments. A highlight reel of the last three days played, coaxing them to purchase the recording for an extra fee. Meanwhile in the quiet apartment, automated cleaning cycles for the showers were activated, the touchscreen systems were reset, and panels in the floors and walls slid open. Staff clambered into the apartment and set to work, an army of them filling the space to swiftly clean the sheets, sanitise surfaces and replace some of the art and furniture. The cooling system was attended to for routine checks and maintenance, fridges were restocked and some of the new innovative traps dreamt up by their development team were installed. A 3d printer produced a new set of tiles adorned with new and interesting fetishes, and a new set of faces, all loaded into the second drawer of the kitchen island. For a few hours, there was a flurry of activity as the apartment was prepared, until all at once the staff made their way out, crawling back through the concealed panels and leaving the apartment empty as another car of unsuspecting tourists pulled up outside.