Fetish
From PRIMUS Database
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Contents |
The Rat Race
Sarah was your typical product of suburbia. A mischievous girl, but ultimately obedient to her parents and schoolteachers, she did just enough right to get accepted into the state college, and from there, majored in the imminently sensible study of finance. She was quickly picked up by a local accounting firm, and began the rest of her life. It wasn't that she needed the money. After all, her grandparents had left her with a sufficient trust fund. Rather, it was simply what she was supposed to do. After all, that's what people did. They went to school, got a degree, then went out to work.
Boredom
It didn't take long, just two years, before Sarah was absolutely miserable. Every day was the same, and she was starting to have nightmares about Excel spreadsheets adding up to wrong numbers. Her job performance suffered, and she started spending her time at work surfing the internet, finding every nook and cranny. What really peaked her interest was a certain website proclaiming the powers of witchcraft. They even had spells and chants in a handy PDF format. So, only a lonely Friday night, she went outside, drew some lines in the dirt that passed for the yard of her little townhouse, and recited some words she didn't understand.
A New Gig
To her complete shock and utter amazement, the ground below her started to glow in an ominous dark purple, and what appeared to be strands of... well... something, wiggled up into the space around her. Tilting her hands, she noticed the tentacles waving with her motions, subservient. At a whim, she thrust her hand out, and the dark energies lashed out towards her lone tree, flaying bark off, ripping limbs down, and generally mauling it. Possibilities opened up before her, and she turned in her two weeks notice as soon as she walked in the door on Monday. She spent the next couple weekends learning other spells off the internet. After learning a few tricks, she knew it was time to move forward.
Preparations
Having arranged her finances, selling her townhouse for a more humble and affordable apartment, Sarah took the first step toward her new goal. She drove in to Millennium City, and visited the costume tailor. After a rather long consultation, Sarah was convinced that she needed a costume that would distract villains just enough to give her time to summon her dark energies. With a wry grin, the costume tailor declared that she had just the thing. After taking a ludicrous number of measurements, Sarah was sent home. Her new outfit would be ready in a week.
Fetish
Sarah didn't realize it, but her mouth was slightly agape as the tailor unfolded the black mass of rubber. She was still in a bit of shock when the tailor had her undress completely, sprinkle talcum powder all over herself, and step into the tight suit. The detailed measurements finally made sense, as the clingy rubber fit her like a second skin. To further her surprise, the tailor was not finished. Not even close. Towering white boots, shoulder length white gloves, and a bright red bustier were added, all fashioned out of the same glossy rubber. Admiring herself in the mirror, Sarah barely could recognize herself. She looked just like a fetish model. Spinning around, however, she noticed absolutely no blemishes on her shiny new skin. Not even for a zipper. In a moment of panic, she turned and asked the tailor what the deal was. The devious tailor had sealed the various pieces onto her with adhesive. It was for her protection, she was assured. After all, if she were ever captured, she'd need that level of protection. It was as this point that she was informed of the special nature of the material. Superhero grade, far more durable than civilian materials. Knife resistant, the suit was practically impenetrable, and, as a consequence, inescapable. When Sarah opened her mouth to protest, the tailor slid a mask around her face from behind, a small piece of rubber setting in her mouth. Sarah chewed on the strange intrusion, but then jumped away from the tailor as it inflated behind her teeth. The tailor simply stood there, canned air in her hand, a smug grin on her face. From that point forward, Sarah's concerns were only expressed in unintelligibly muffled tones. Hand flying to her face, she simply couldn't open her jaw any further to get the gag out. It was stuck, painfully so. The tailor motioned her back with a wave of her finger, and, defeated, Sarah obliged. The straps of the mask were buckled behind Sarah's head, and a little bit of the air was released out of a valve in the back. Sarah's jaw stopped aching, but she still couldn't speak. A tall collar was wrapped around her neck, with a small lock placed on the back, binding the straps of Sarah's mask to it, and sealing off the release valve for her gag. Further straps were tied around her thighs, arms, and waist, with shiny D-rings dangling down. Sarah looked in the mirror again, and couldn't believe her eyes. She was shocked by the erotic image in front of her. The tailor stood behind her, a look of satisfaction on her face, and uttered a single sentence: "Don't worry love, villains will be just as stunned as you are."
