Kristen pulled to a stop and put the car in park. She stretched a bit and let out a moaning chirp. The sign above the door read ‘Lexa’s Boutique’. As was the case with most boutiques, it was feminine and inviting. This was the last stop of the day and hundreds of miles from home. It would mean another stay in a hotel.

The lazy days of college and friends began to fade like a distant memory. As a Junior Marketing Rep for ‘Paris Cosmetics’, she had to cover a vast district. It also meant that she had to look her best all the time. Other women must envy her. They had to want to be her. Only then would they buy cosmetics from her.

Opening the car door, she swung her legs around in true ladylike fashion. Five-inch high heels and nude nylons were now a daily part of her wardrobe. How she longed for a pair of sneakers and sweat socks. Releasing a heavy sigh, she smoothed her black miniskirt over her curvy hips. The V-neckline of her matching jacket was low cut with just a bit of her antique white camisole showing. A pushup bra insured that her melon size cleavage would be displayed for all to admire.

After grabbing her purse, she slammed the car door closed. In the dim reflection of the glass, she examined her bottom. Was it getting fat? She gazed at her profile. Nope, curvy cheeks, tight buns, and trim thighs, they were perfection itself. Although she thought it was catty, women spent more time examining other women’s breasts and asses than men did. They liked to size up the competition.

She flicked her long chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, gripped her sample case, and strode up to the door. The established reps kept to the cities. This left Kristen to scrounge for scraps in small towns across the west. It always paid to make a pitch no matter how small the shop. One never knew. The proprietor might own ten others and earn her a fat commission. It was possible but doubtful.

She opened the frosted glass doors and heard the tinkle of a doorbell. A blast of perfume wafted over her and assaulted her nostrils. Why did the potpourri always have to smell so strong? It bordered on the offensive.

Taking a deep breath, she paused and sized up the shop. In addition to the usual assortment panties, bras, and other lingerie. She spotted racks of peculiar clothing. The mannequins that displayed them were bizarre at best. They stood atop platforms and were held in bondage. One in particular caught her eyes. It was covered in black latex and straddled a saddle. An audible humming came from it. The mannequin’s arms were bound in a double hammerlock by a forearm tube and bicep straps. She was glad they were made of plastic. If they were human, they would be in agony.

Behind the counter, she saw a cute blonde with her back to the front door. ‘A girl, perfect, I’ll have her eating out of my hand,’ thought Kristen. ‘You’re all mine.’

“Hello,” Kristine said and smiled with her eyes, “I’m your Paris Cosmetics Beauty Rep, Kristen Shaw. I was hoping to speak with the owner. We have a great line of lips gloss that actually refreshes and moistens … your … lips. Its…an…amazing—” her words trailed off into silence.

When the girl turned about Kristen could scarcely believe her eyes. The cute blonde wore a very tight black kid leather dress. She wondered how the girl every put it on in the first place. It appeared nearly seamless. It ran from her ankles to her neck with long sleeves, and it conformed to her body like a second skin. The dresseven creased every so slightly between her legs and emphasized the ‘V’ of her flat pelvis and hips.

When the girl took a step forward, Kristen winced. The shoes were the most severe she had ever seen. They were made of black paten leather and appeared more like ballet slippers. They forced the girl to stand on her tiptoes. She took a couple of mincing, penguin steps. Suddenly her hips jerked backward, and she bent forward at the waist. A cable extended out the dress from between her butt cheeks. It was securely pad locked to a U-bolt mounted to the counter.

The girl’s blue eyes looked up at Kristen through flaxen bangs. A massive red ball gag filled her mouth to capacity and a web of black straps dug into her cheeks, nose, and chin. When a string of unintelligible mews came from the gag, Kristen jumped a bit. The girl thrust her hips forward over and over again. Each time the cable snapped tight and jerked her bottom backward.

Seeing she was getting nowhere, she twisted her body and bit and extended her arms around her right side. The message was clear. “Set me free.” Now Kristen had never seen a black kid leather monosleeve before in her life, but she just what it was and what it was for. The girl’s arms were hopelessly pinned together behind her.

“Um…” muttered Kristen, “are you interested in any cosmetics?” The idle rambling came from a distracted mind. She could not help but stare at the girl’s bound body.

“She’s not, but I might be,” said a female voice. Leaning against a doorframe, she saw a raven-haired beauty. “My name is Lexa.”

“Oh…um…hi Lexa,” squeaked Kristen.

Lexa crossed her legs and arms. The light reflected off her black PVC mini-dress. It had a flared skirt, tight bodice, and long sleeves. Along with it she wore black nylons and spiked black PVC boots that laced up the front. Her eyes ranged up and down Kristen with the look of a predator sizing up a tasty morsel. “Don’t pay any attention to my girlfriend, Amy. She lost a bet.”

“Oh I see,” replied Kristen. She didn’t really understand at all. She would never dress like that - not even to pay off a bet.

“You’re not homophobic are you?” Lexa strolled over and caressed Amy’s leather covered ass. “She and I have been together for six months now.”

“No. I’m not prejudiced. I was good friends with a lesbian in college.” The declaration felt hollow and insincere. The only lesbian she knew was Jessica Howard, and she was a social outcast.

“Give me a minute, and I’ll take a look at your product line.”

“Wonderful,” commented Kristen and set her sample case down on the counter. A sensible person would have run out the door, burned rubber, and raced away into the night. However, she needed the sale. If these lesbians were into BDSM, that was their business. What did it matter to her?

The sound of frantic mews drew Kristen’s attention. Lexa had something stretched between her hands and held it before Kristen’s face. Meanwhile, the girl was mewing frantically and shaking her head from side to side. “Now be a good girl,” growled Lexa. She flashed a forced smile at Kristen and returned to her efforts.

The hood stretched over Amy’s face, covering it in glossy black latex. Amy’s nostrils flared as she sucked gasping breaths through a pair of nostril tubes. After tucking in a bit of blonde hair in back, Lexa drew down a zipper. It made her head to appear like that of a mannequin.

Kristen opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Lexa drew a second hood over Amy’s head. This hood was made of heavier rubber with a thin layer of padding on the inside of it. When it pulled down over her head, the padding covered up the straps, but the outer arch of the ball gag was still visible. Little by little Lexa laced the hood in back. A flap covered the laces, zipped up, and then locked. Insuring that no one could remove the hood, a wide leather collar covered her entire neck and locked in back.

After unhooking the cable at Amy’s bottom, she led the girl over to a wall. A rectangular frame with a black rubber matt stretched inside it was suspended from the ceiling by a pair of cables. She placed Amy against the rubber mat and stretched another over her. Once zipped up, the poor girl was sandwiched between them.

Kristen heard the roar of a vacuum and saw Lexa attached a hose to a sheet. Every bit of air was sucked out from between the sheets. Amy’s squirming body was now completely immobilized. Even so when Lexa pressed a button on a remote, Amy flexed a bit and chirped. A chorus of humming vibrations erupted from Amy’s sex and breasts.

When the cables began retracting, Kristen gazed up at the ceiling. Slowly but surely Amy arose until she was only a foot from the white ceiling and locked into a frame. Kristen counted four more such frames all with female shaped forms inside them.

“There we go,” declared Lexa with a smile. “Now let’s look at those cosmetics.”

Still staring up at the ceiling, she muttered, “We have a very nice line of moisture refreshing lip gloss. It’s seals on your lips to prevent smudging on your teeth. Those aren’t all filled with girls are they?”

“No don’t be silly,” mocked Lexa. “Only Amy is real. The rest are mannequins.”

“Um…I really should be going. It’s late.”

“Nonsense,” countered Lexa, grasping Kristen’s upper right arm. “I want to see all of your products. Why don’t we go in back?”

“No. It’s really late. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re just being silly,” said Lexa with a plastic smile. “I don’t close for hours.”

Kristen’s heart pounded as she dragged the reluctant her through a heavy metal door in back. When it slammed shut with a metal bang, Kristen chewed upon her thumbnail. She saw a card reader next to the door and heard a lock click.

Lexa looked back over her shoulder at Kristen through a black tress of hair. Her lips curled into a vulpine smile. That alarming look was back in her eyes.

“Um, I’d like to stay and show you my cosmetic line, but I have an early appointment. I’d like to leave.” Lexa walked past Kristen without acknowledging her request.

All of Kristen’s instincts screamed for her to run. She tried to twist the doorknob it would not budge. The door was an implacable barrier.

“Hmm, now let me see. What to wear? What to wear? Oh yes, this is perfect.”

Kristen spun around – her back pressed to the cold metal door. Lexa milled through a vast walk in closet and wander about selecting items from off the wall. Kristen’s eyes darted about searching for a means of escape. There were no windows, the walls were mirrored, and floor covered in heavy wooden planks. Hooks, chains, and cables hung down from the ceiling. Scattered about the room were strange and ominous machines. Their use terrified her.

Lexa exited her closet and plunked down an armful of items onto a stainless steel table. She crossed her arms and said, “Now why don’t you be a good girl and get undressed? Or shall we do it he hard way?”

“SOMEBODY HELP ME!!!” screamed Kristen.

“Hard it is,” smiled Lexa.

Lexa milled over to Kristen – her boots tapping out a staccato rhythm on the wooden floor. “Now stay away,” said Kristen, holding out her arms before her. “I have a purple belt in Karate.”

“Oh my, the does sound scary,” taunted Lexa.

When Lexa neared, Kristen made a feeble punch at her attacker. Lexa easily deflected the blow and punched Kristen in the gut. All air departed her lungs and Kristen double over. Lexa grabbed her long brown mane and dragged Kristen across the room. She flung her toward what appeared to be a gynecological exam table. The table impacted Kristen’s hips and slammed her face down on the black vinyl table.

Gasping for air, she heard the rip a zipper and felt her miniskirt open up. It easily slid over her antique white silk slip and over her ass. A pair of hands caressed her ass cheeks through her silk and satin lingerie. “Um yes, very nice indeed,” purred Lexa.

Kristen planted her hands on the table and pushed up. “Oops, not so fast,” said Lexa. She grabbed Kristen’s wrists and dragged them behind her back. Kristen slammed face down again with a grunt. The ratchet of metal, the embrace of cold steel, and Kristen’s and the restraint of her arms made her heart skip a beat. “Now let’s get you of those clothes and into something uncomfortable.”

“HELP ME…Uuuummmmpppphhhh.” Silky fabric filled Kristen’s mouth. Before she could spit it out, a ‘Scold Mask Gag’ covered the lower half of her face, nose and neck. After a quick zip, tug of laces, and snap of a head strap, Kristen was securely gagged – the black leather stretched across her flesh.

Lexa bent over and whispered, “I hope you like the taste of my panties. You’ll have a different used pair every day.”

This revelation sent Kristen into a frenzy. She struggled and squirmed trying to break free. All the while her stomach lurched at the idea. “You better not vomit. It’ll hurt my feelings and make you choke to death.” At hearing this Kristen controlled her gag reflex.

From off the table, Lexa retrieved a pair of medical scissors. She held it at the hem of the silk slip and snipped. “You won’t be wearing these again.”

When Kristen was naked, she flipped her over onto her back and bound her feet in the stirrups. “I want this to be a surprise,” smiled Lexa. She draped a cloth blocking Kristen’s view.

While she could not see, she could still feel. The blunt tip of a butt-plug between her cheeks made her heart pound. When the massive girth pushed into her, she grimaced and bit down on the panties. It felt as if it would rip her open. Lexa gazed at Kristen’s face and pushed. When the apex slid past her sphincter, Kristen took a huge snort of air. Lexa ground the plug into Kristen’s ass. The flexible retaining cap molded between her fleshy cheeks. “I bet this is your first time getting it in the ass. The first is always the best – enjoy.”

Before Kristen could recover, a huge dildo nestled between her labia. The greased boat oar easily slid into her. It stretched her fleshy envelope wide and filled her vaginal canal. Never in her life had she felt so full.

Lexa was not done. Kristen felt something encompass her clitoris. It sucked it in and neatly disappeared between her labia. The dildo jiggled inside her as a power plug snapped into it. Another ultra thin cord snapped into the base of her butt-plug and traced up between her cheeks. It heralded things to come.

Her feet were fed through something. Kristen felt taut rubber stretch up calves, work up her thighs, and cover her ass. It continued up over her waist. She then felt very wide flaps wrap around her waist. Her body jerked as it pulled tight and crushed her abdomen. Another thin strap insinuate itself between her legs. When it pulled tight, it sunk into her slit giving her a black rubber camel toe and sunk deep between her cheeks.

Like some fetish unveiling, Lexa ripped away the divider. Kristen gazed in horror at the rubber panty girdle squeezing her body. “UUUmmmwww MMMnnnMMNNNnn,” mewed Kristen in protest. Her defiance only served to excite Lexa.

Starting with Kristen’s legs, Lexa worked the black latex catsuit booties over her feet. Bit by bit the taut rubber catsuit covered Kristen’s lower body. While the inside was black rubber, the outside gleamed like metal polished to a mirrored surface. Lexa admiringly gazed at her reflection and checked her makeup.

Returning to work, Lexa paused to run the thin butt-plug wire up around Kristen’s body. The wire led up to a pair of silver conical nipple vibrators. They were no thicker than a napkin and glued to Kristen’s areolas. With these in place, she then continued working the suit up Kristen’s body. The arms were a bit tricky, but she managed to get them in the sleeves one at a time.

Afterward, she placed rubber balls in Kristen’s hands and told her to squeeze. At first she did not comply, but a slap to the ass convinced her to obey. Lexa worked a pair of thumb-less mittens over Kristen’s hands. When Kristen released her grip, her hands were hopelessly pinned.

After forcing Kristen’s feet into a pair of ballet boots, Lexa removed Kristen from the table. Dancing from toe to toe, Kristen felt her arms draw back and up behind her. A black kid leather armbinder squeezed them together and thrust put her chest.

Lexa wrapped a glossy black PVC waist cincher around Kristen’s abdomen. The laces jerked her body, as they pulled taut. As the corset squeezed her stomach, her breathing became ever shallower. Each snort of air came with great effort. The laces to the waist cincher were concealed by a flap, zipped, and locked. The seamless, heavily boned garment compressed her body into a dramatic hourglass form, and the black material contrasted her silver catsuit.

Lexa’s hands glided over Kristen’s black rubber cheeks and then up her sides. “Oh I like this,” she purred. “But were not done yet.” On the tray Kristen saw two rubber hoods. One hood was made of black latex and the other was mirrored. Neither had eyeholes, only nostril holes and tubes. Along with them she saw a silver metal fiber wig.

“You are going to look so wonderful,” chirped Lexa. After gluing electronic earplug in Kristen’s ears, Lexa stretched the inner hood over Kristen’s face. Plunged into darkness and silence, her mind could think of little else but dildos filling her. As her head jerked from the tightening laces of the outer hood, she agonized over her situation. How long would Lexa keep her prisoner? The manacles hobbling her ankles and knees came as a reply.

Lexa situated Kristen onto top of a platform. Her hobbled legs were bound to an eyebolt in the platform. It insured that she would not be moving about. As if this was not enough, her arms were stretched up, forcing her to bend over at the hips. When they were at an acute angle to her body, the cable and wench drawing them up stopped. Lexa bound a metal manacles around Kristen’s pinned wrists. The cuffs were welded to a metal rod extending up to the ceiling. The cable was then removed.

After retrieving a can of polish, Lexa pressed the nozzle and sprayed mist onto Kristen’s butt cheek. She smiled into the heart-shaped, mirrored surface. The catsuit cleaved to her body like skin and sunk down between her cheeks.

The doorbell chimed. Lexa turned and saw a saleswoman strolling in the boutique. “Just a second,” she called out with a warm tone, “I’ll be right with you.” Lexa retrieved a remote and pressed the ‘engage’ button. Violent hums erupted from Kristen’s sex and breasts. A barely audible whimper followed, and Kristen quivered a bit.

The startled saleswoman set down her sample case. “This certainly is an interesting shop. You sell adult novelties?”

“That, clothing, and cosmetics,” stated Lexa. “Just one second, and I’ll be right with you.” Lexa placed a sign at Kristen’s feet. It read ‘$50,000 price includes training’.

When the saleswoman turned around to open her case, Lexa’s eyes ranged up her body. The traced up her shapely black nylon clad legs to the charcoal miniskirt wrapped around her firm, round ass. She licked her lips and gazed at an empty pedestal. ‘Room for one more,’ she mused. ‘You’ll look divine in my ‘Fetish French Maid’ ensemble.’ She smiled and said, “Why don’t we look at those in back?”