Ch.2 A Trip to the Salon
Samantha's trip to HaremCo Hollywood was both enlightening and disturbing. The place was like a palace, with gleaming white walls and shiny marble floors. It was clear that HaremCo was a big, well-funded organization. And yet, there was something strange about the place, too. It was a bit too quiet, too orderly, and there was a feeling of being watched at all times.
A few women roamed the halls, and something seemed strange about them to Samantha. First of all they were barefoot, and most wore collars. Their skin and their makeup seemed flawless, but somehow uncanny. They wore collars with little pendants on the front, which was odd, but that wasn't quite what Samantha found so unsettling. She couldn't put her finger on it.
She approached the front desk, where a handsomely mature latina woman in a gorgeous pink pantsuit was seated. Ahead of her in line was a man in a business suit, who held in his hand a leash attached to the collar of the woman standing next to him.
The woman wore a bulky trench coat and a surgical mask covered her face. She must have been in bondage, and this getup was used to cover that up so as not to attract unwanted public attention.
"Hey, Michelle, good to see you again," the man said to the woman behind the desk.
She looked up from her paperwork and beamed up at the man, "hello again, Steve, always a pleasure. Here for boarding services again?"
"Yeah," said the man, "business is booming, gotta take another trip. Put Cheryl here down for five day's boarding, economy class."
The woman's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she gently murmured something muffled through the mask. So she was gagged, then.
"Oh? Not going first class this time?" said Michelle, typing away and never breaking her smile.
"No," said Steve, "I caught Cheryl here on my house's security cameras. She was taking off her chastity belt and her gag when I wasn't home, then putting them back on when I was on my way home from work. She thought I wouldn't notice, and now she's going to learn to remember who pays the bills here."
"Oh my!" exclaimed Michelle, then paused, "you know, we sell locks for those."
"Apparently she found a guide on how to pick them on the internet."
"Well, that IS disobedient," said Michelle as Cheryl whimpered and trembled, "might I recommend some additional training, or perhaps a discipline session with Master Dominic?"
"Yes, actually," grinned Steve, "that sounds lovely, Michelle."
"And you should know that we just launched a line of smart locks with no keyhole. You can open them remotely over our app, or locally with your mobile phone. Can I put you down for a few smart locks, Steve?"
"Wow, you really do think of everything at HaremCo! Sounds great. Can I leave Cheryl here now? I've got a plane to catch."
"Sure thing, and thanks for your business, Master Steve!" burbled Michelle, motioning to a petite asian woman in a sheer, short white dress. Most of the girls wandering the halls seemed to be wearing that same dress. Samantha supposed that must be their uniform. She still couldn't tell what was so odd about these women.
"Suki, you will escort Cheryl here to economy boarding and report to your trainer for debriefing. Dismissed," said Michelle, and the woman bowed her head, taking Cheryl's leash in her hand and leading her away. Cheryl's shoulders quaked gently, and Samantha thought she might be crying. That was disturbing.
"It's an honor to meet you, Miss Steele!" Michelle said, standing and extending her hand for a handshake.
"Thanks, Michelle, was it" said Samantha, taking her hand and shaking it professionally, "I'm excited to learn more about this program, and, well, I've got coupons for the shop, and a free spa day? I sure could use the R&R…"
"Of course, and we'll be happy to show you to the salon, but first," Michelle smiled in a way that didn't reach her eyes, "you filled out your consent waiver, yes? I'll need to process that."
"Right here," Samantha handed over the form, which was a bit of an understatement. The document was massive, with dozens of pages of fine print, clauses, and sub-clauses.
"Hmmm," Michelle said, reading it, "this is a bit unusual. It seems you filled this out without a male authority, did you?"
Samantha sighed. She didn't want to answer these personal questions, or admit to her single status, or her loneliness, but she didn't have a choice. "Yes," she admitted, looking at the floor.
"Well, that's all right, we'll just have to get one of our trainers to sponsor you. You're a hot ticket right now so I'm sure they'll all jump at the chance!" Michelle pushed a button on an intercom and spoke into it, "Carol, report to front desk. Best behavior, you'll be escorting Samantha Steele to the salon and the shops."
She turned to Samantha, "Carol's a newbie, but she's sweet. She should be here any minute. Did you have any more questions while we wait?"
"Actually, I'm curious about the couple you helped just before me," said Samantha, remembering the conversations about locks and chastity belts and Chery's forlorn expression as she was led away. She wondered what was really going on under that trench coat.
"Ah," Michelle said, her expression unchanging, "well, that was a very typical exchange. We provide discipline, boarding, and training services for women, as well as a range of restraints and chastity gear. Many a master or mistress has dropped off their charge here for some time away, and to receive some correction for their disobedience. You're not the first to notice the collar and the trench coat," she added, "it's common for slaves to arrive dressed in such a way so as to not attract unwanted public attention."
Samantha shuddered. Was this going to happen to her, too? Would she end up locked in bondage gear and led around by the collar?
"But that's not…normal, right? I mean, I'm sure lots of freaky BDSM couples go crazy with this stuff, but are most of the women like me? Conservative, traditionalist, in a normal, healthy relationship, but deferring to a man as head of household?"
Michelle paused for a moment. She didn't seem eager to talk about it, and didn't even seem comfortable, but eventually, she spoke.
"I can't say. But it is true that many women have taken up this lifestyle as a way to get in touch with their femininity. You'll find many different women at our compound. I don't know about healthy relationships, I mean, what is healthy to me may be different from you. It's not our business to judge individual relationships, or how husbands may discipline their wives, within the boundaries of decency and the law. Please remember, Ms. Steele, that these women entered into their relationships consensually. Many are simply well-behaved housewives, as I'm sure you'll be, but some of them chose to be with very domineering, powerful men. That's a perfectly natural feminine desire, wouldn't you agree?"
Samantha opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what she was going to say, when a strawberry blonde, freckled twenty-something girl in the same sheer white dress as the other girls and a rose gold collar bounded around the corner, ran up to her, and bowed her head wordlessly to Sam. The pendant on her collar read, "I'm in training. Send performance feedback to Master Dominic."
"You must be Carol. Hi there! I'm Samantha, and I'm new at this too. Do you like working here so far?"
Carol looked up, a smile forming on her exceptionally shiny, glossy pink lips, and said, "mm-hmm! mm-hmm!" without opening her mouth.
"I guess you're not allowed to talk, huh?" said Samantha.
"Actually, Ms. Steele, Carol is unable to speak. But you couldn't tell by looking that she was gagged, could you?" said Michelle proudly.
Samantha looked Carol's face over, taking in the shininess of her lips, and the glossy sheen of the flawless, blemish-free skin of her neck and arms.
"No, not at all but…if you don't mind me saying, the girls here look a bit strange to me. Sort of uncanny. No offense, Carol!" said Samantha, "you're saying she's…invisibly gagged?"
"Yes," Michelle beamed, "it's a product we're rolling out soon. Lipstick made of our permaseal glue formula. It's called Lipstuck, and you should try it out. It comes in a wide variety of color palletes, matte and gloss finishes, and to tell you a secret, the designer behind the line used to work for Dior. It's not only a discipline measure, it's a genuine designer fashion statement!"
"Really," Samantha mused, looking Carol over, "and what do you think of it?" She turned to Carol and asked, "do you feel it's comfortable? Is it too restrictive? Would you recommend it?"
Carol nodded, and smiled through the lipstick seal on her lips, "MMM-HMMM!"
"Well, that settles it. I'll give it a try," said Samantha, not totally sure about what she was hearing but not wanting to reject HaremCo's products in front of their staff.
"That's not all," said Michelle, "Carol's close enough that you can probably notice something else she's wearing. Look closely at her legs, her arms, and her bosom."
Samantha did as she was asked. She looked Carol up and down and was amazed. She couldn't help but gasp, and she quickly put a hand to her mouth.
"Michelle…she…her skin is perfect. I can't see a single pore or blemish, it looks airbrushed. Is this that lipstick again? On her arms? No, wait…" Samantha reached out and touched Carol's arm, which she offered gladly, "it's latex, isn't it?"
Michelle nodded, "good eye, Ms. Steele. Carol's wearing our full coverage latex second-skin, a product we haven't yet launched. It covers every inch of skin and makes it look like a perfectly flawless mannequin's skin, with a slightly more realistic texture and color. It's a latex bodysuit, perfectly formed to every little detail of her body, and it covers her totally from her fingertips and toes to just above her collar. Look closely and you'll see there's a discreet, translucent plastic zipper on her neck. As long as that collar stays locked on, she can't unzip the suit."
"Wow. That's insane, this is like something a super villain would make his minions wear in a James Bond movie," Samantha said. "What does this have to do with a woman's natural desire to submit to a man?" She asked.
"I'm so glad you asked!" Michelle smiled, "the second-skin suit is great for women who have poor skin and want a makeover, or have tattoos or scars they'd like to conceal. The latex also tightly holds a woman's curves, shaping her body into its most youthful and beautiful shape. Plus, we offer them in colors as well as flesh tones, so they can be worn as a striking garment, putting the woman's form totally on display for her master."
"I see. So the dress is for modesty, right? So her breasts, crotch, ass, all that, isn't too provocative for your more conservative customers?"
"That's right!" said Michelle, then leaned in conspiratorially, "also Carol's wearing our newest second-skin, and to tell you a secret, it's much more…anatomically correct…than your typical catsuit. If you catch my drift."
"You don't mean…"
"Take a peek," Michelle winked, "Carol won't mind."
Carol blushed and turned her head to the side. She knew what they were talking about.
"Ok, I guess if she doesn't care, it's alright. But it seems a little inappropriate, you know. In an office."
"Carol isn't exactly an office worker. We don't hire regular employees. All the girls here are in a sort of apprenticeship. A slave's apprenticeship, if you will. She is owned by HaremCo, and we have a number of trainers on our staff. Some of our girls stay on as full-time staff, some go home to their husbands or boyfriends, and some use our dating service to match with a man who will guide and provide for them. Now, Carol," she turned to the girl, "Ms. Steele is a HaremCo VIP, and as such she is your mistress. If your mistress wants to inspect you, would you disobey her?"
"Mmm," Carol said, looking at the ground.
"That's what I thought," said Michelle. "Now go ahead, show her what we talked about. Don't make your mistress wait, that would be rude, and a misbehaved slave is a sorry excuse for a slave, isn't that right, Carol?"
Carol looked at Michelle with a pleading expression, but the older woman just glared back at her.
"Mmmm-hmm…" said Carol.
Samantha couldn't help but notice that there was a slight change in Carol's voice. It was a bit more strained, a bit more throaty, as if she was trying to keep herself together and keep her voice steady. Her cheeks flushed as she slowly turned around and began to raise her short dress.
Carol raised the dress up, and Samantha could see the latex second-skin suit covering Carol's pussy and her asshole, but gasped in shock when she noticed how it scrunched and puckered at her orifices, like a rolled-up condom's opening, or like a sex doll's rubber sheaths. The shape of her pussy was clear through the tight latex, but there were also small molded labia and a little latex nub where her clitoris would be.
"Oh my God," Samantha clasped a hand to her mouth in shock, "that's so realistic."
Carol's face was bright red, but her eyes sparkled as she smiled behind her sealed lips.
"Your body is on display through that suit, and the suit is designed so your pussy and asshole are perfectly available," Samantha said, turning to Michelle.
"Exactly," Michelle said, "a woman like Carol is now a very convenient toy for her man, or any man she wants, really. She's got perky little nipples in the suit, too."
Carol let her dress fall, blushing even harder, "mmm, mm-hmm."
"The best part is, Carol gets to use our special long-term latex lotion all over her body before she puts the suit on, so when she takes it off, her skin will be even softer, tighter, and healthier. I'm sure you'll get to try some at the salon. Speaking of which, shouldn't you two head over there? I'm sure you could use some relaxation after the exciting few days you've just had, Ms. Steele."
"Wait…they're not going to put me in a suit like this, are they? I don't want those…sheaths, or whatever, going inside of me…"
"You don't have to do anything you don't want, Ms. Steele, and I'm sure the spa could provide you a more traditional catsuit without the orifice sheaths if you'd prefer. Though personally, that's my favorite part," said Michelle with a glint in your eye, "the treatments we have for women's most sensitive parts feel amazing, and it's a part of the body most salons neglect entirely."
"I'll think about it. All right, Carol, would you please lead me to the salon? Thanks so much, sweetheart." said Samantha.
Carol took her hand and led her off, and Michelle called after them before they disappeared around the corner, "remember, Ms. Steele, she's yours to command. You don't have to be so polite, she'll do anything you order her to. Have fun at the salon!"
And with that, they set off down a long, gently curving corridor, Carol's latex-clad feet padding silently along as Samantha's heels clattered down the hall, reverberating off the walls.
The facility was like a maze. Carol walked quickly, leading the way and occasionally stopping to make sure Samantha was following behind. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and every turn looked the same. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking, they came to a set of large, sliding doors. Carol placed her hand on a small panel and the doors opened.
The salon was unlike anything Samantha had ever seen before. It was sleek and modern, with white walls and black floors, and there was a row of white chairs lined up in front of a large window that looked out into a tropical garden. The chairs were filled with women who were all dressed in white latex suits like the one Carol wore. Or, maybe not quite like hers…Samantha resisted the urge to peek under the towels draped over the women's bodies to see if their crotches were smooth, or sheathed like a human sex doll.
She saw that a few women had beige flesh-tone, permaseal plasters over their lips, and one of them was wearing a latex mask…no, more like a hood, that covered her entire face and head, with only a small gap for her ponytail to flow out the top. The hood might have had eyeholes, but there was a permaseal plaster covering each of her eyes.
It looked absolutely terrifying to Samantha, but she couldn't help noticing the woman was softly groaning in pleasure and gently rubbing her latex-covered fingers across her body. She was obviously enjoying her treatment. Actually, she might have been enjoying it a bit TOO much.
Samantha noticed a young man who appeared to be the only male staff member in the salon, but she realized he was probably not an employee at all. The way he was dressed in a fine Italian suit, and his thick, curly hair and stylish stubble screamed "rich tech executive," and she realized he was probably here with one of the women in the salon.
He approached her as Carol guided her to her seat, "Ms. Steele? Hi there, my name's Sean, I'm a member of Senator Blume's public relations team, and I'm a fan. I was here to have a little alone time with my favorite toy, and saw your appointment was scheduled. You'll have to forgive me for being a bit of a fanboy."
Suddenly she realized: this was the man from the video on the HaremCo site! The one who'd demonstrated the permaseal plaster on his wife…or sub or slave or whatever…the "favorite toy" he was talking about was Chloe, the HaremCo spokesgirl. So that was her, sitting in a white latex suit and hood, the same one she'd seen from afar when she first walked in, her eyes covered by two of the beige, flesh-tone plasters. She was still writhing and moaning under the towel. She was definitely enjoying the spa experience, whatever was happening under there.
"Nice to meet you Sean. What a lovely facility. I have to admit I wasn't sure what to expect, but this is far more upscale than I had anticipated." She was a little surprised by the man's presence in the spa, but it was refreshing to see someone else in the facility who seemed to have his head on straight, unlike some of the girls she'd met so far.
Carol led Samantha to a chair and motioned for her to take her seat. Sean said, "you'll love this place, I'm sure. Chloe and I have been members since the start. She was already mine before HaremCo came along, but we joined the company because we believe in its mission, and, well…" he looked at his squirming, latex-covered slave with pride, "she loves the treatments here."
The salon was filled with the sound of the spa's various treatments: the gentle whirring of the machines, the soft hiss of the steam, and the occasional soft, muffled moan of a client. The air smelled of a mixture of floral fragrances, and Samantha's nostrils were tickled by the sweet smell of lavender.
Samantha took her seat, and a woman dressed in a white uniform and a white lab coat approached her. The woman introduced herself as Dr. Lisa and told Samantha she would be administering her treatment.
"So, what's the story, Dr. Lisa?" asked Samantha, "I'm a little new at this. What's a treatment here like?"
"First of all, call me Mistress Lisa," said the woman with a smile.
"Oh! Sorry, I just thought…with the doctorate, and all…but ok, if that's what you want. Mistress Lisa," said Samantha.
"Mmmm!" said Carol approvingly, and Mistress Lisa shot her a stern look.
"Sorry," said Samantha, feeling a little guilty for having made the mistake, but not really knowing why she did.
"Well," said Mistress Lisa, "we have a number of treatments available for you. Since this is your first time at the HaremCo compound, you can choose one of our special VIP introductory treatments."
"VIP? Really?" asked Samantha. She was a little taken aback. She knew HaremCo was interested in having her as an influencer, but she didn't think they would be treating her like a VIP. "What kind of treatments are available?"
"Well, there are a number of different options, but the one that seems to be most popular among new guests is our full body second-skin rejuvenative ointment application. Would you like to see it?"
Samantha was a bit intrigued. She had never considered anything like this before, but it sounded like something that might be fun to try.
"Ok, I guess, but I have to admit, this all seems a little…strange. This is all so new to me. Why are the girls here dressed in these…bodysuits? I'm not sure I like how they look. I'm a little…well…it's all very unusual."
"Of course," said Mistress Lisa. "I'm sure this must be quite overwhelming. But let me explain. The second-skin treatment is a unique and luxurious experience that is designed to nourish, exfoliate, and revitalize the skin. The treatment is administered with a proprietary blend of essential oils and nutrients that are designed to penetrate deep into the skin, leaving you feeling refreshed, relaxed, and glowing. The ointment has a special warming agent, it may tingle a bit at first but it soon becomes intensely pleasurable, and relaxes the muscles. And of course, the element of surrender is relaxing to women. You'll be an exception to this, and can refuse any aspect of treatment, of course, but I encourage you to allow me to do my job and direct the course of your treatment."
"So that's why I call you Mistress."
"Yes, I will be directing your treatment. It's important that you surrender to me, and to the experience, in order to truly relax into a feminine mindset. You may want to consider a full face mask as well, which we can augment to induce a state of sensory deprivation. With earplugs in, eyes sealed, and your sense of touch muted by the latex and the stimulants in the ointment, you can drift into a deeply peaceful meditative experience. Many women find it mildly psychedelic, in fact. It's sort of like those deprivation float tanks pro athletes like to use. Your VIP package includes all of that if you wish, as well as a deep tissue massage with state of the art vibration technology. Please select now which services you require, as I will not change the course of treatment once it has begun, and you may not be able to speak to me after some of the treatments are applied."
"Oh my God, girl, you've GOT to get the whole package," said a familiar voice from one of the beds. Samantha looked toward the sound and saw Chloe sitting up, her face and hair glistening from the ointments inside her hood. She looked radiant and healthy, and her cheeks glowed with a warm blush, even if she was a little wet and raw from the treatment. Samantha had been so distracted listening to Mistress Lisa she hadn't noticed Chloe's hood and permaseals being removed.
"I come here once a week, and I wish I could do more. The first time is a little nerve-wracking, but just go with the flow and you'll find yourself counting the days till you come back for another session," said Chloe, beaming and running her fingers through her hair, panting slightly in the afterglow of what must have been an orgasm. Maybe multiple.
"I'm definitely nervous…hey you're Chloe, right? I just watched a promo video of you on HaremCo's website."
"Oh my God I'm so tickled! Samantha Steele recognizes me!" gushed Chloe, "Your books are a huge part of my life, I used to be a miserable radical feminist and you're the reason I was able to change my ways. Listen to me, I sound like such a fangirl…"
"It's fine, really," said Samantha. She could feel herself blushing, and it was a strange feeling. It had been a long time since she'd been embarrassed like that. But something about this girl was disarming, and it wasn't just that she was wrapped in shiny white latex. She seemed so…happy. Samantha couldn't help but feel a pang of envy for this girl, even though she'd been reduced to a toy for her boyfriend…no…for her owner.
"So you've been here before? What do the girls normally get? What would you recommend?" asked Samantha, eager for advice from someone who'd experienced the spa's offerings before. She'd never seen anything like it.
"I'd recommend the whole thing. The full facial. I usually get that, along with the special services for the more intimate areas, if you catch my meaning," said Chloe with a sly smile, looking down at her latex-covered crotch.
"You mean that…like the catsuit that Carol has?" Samantha said, turning to Carol and looking at her up and down, "the one with the…sheaths?" she felt her face growing red again at the thought.
"Yep. That's my favorite part, actually. You'll love it, trust me. The treatments they use for those sensitive places feel incredible. And you're in good hands. Mistress Lisa is one of our top aestheticians, she does the HaremCo models all the time," Chloe smiled at the thought of it, "I'm a bit jealous. You should really try it out. It's not as scary as it seems."
"I'll think about it, thank you for the advice Chloe. And thanks for your kind words about my work, that's so nice to hear." said Samantha.
"Oh! It's so fun talking to you! I'm sorry I gushed so much. Mistress Lisa, you'll make sure Ms. Steele has a great experience, right? And please make sure you're especially attentive and skilled in her more sensitive areas. We want her to have a great first experience at HaremCo," said Chloe, smiling at Samantha, "Sean's waiting in the car for me, I'd better get going, I've got another interview tomorrow, so I have to rest up for that! Have a great day, Ms. Steele. I'm so honored to meet you. Please come back and visit again, maybe we'll see each other around. Bye!"
And with that she slipped off her towel, put her clothes on over her second-skin suit, and skipped off jovially to meet her master. Samantha couldn't help but peek when the towel slid off, but Chloe put her panties on too soon for her to get a good look.
"Well, Ms. Steele? Would you like the full VIP package, or just a normal suit and maybe some cucumbers for your eyes?" Mistress Lisa sounded just a bit condescending, almost mocking. Samantha felt like that person in line for a roller coaster who chickens out at the last minute, all their friends groaning and shaking their heads.
"Fuck it," she said, regretting the words as they left her lips, "let's do the whole thing. Sensory deprivation actually sounds relaxing and…well…maybe I COULD use a little attention down there…" she blushed and averted her eyes from Carol and Lisa.
"Every woman does," said Mistress Lisa, "now please close your lips so I can apply a medicated plaster to your mouth, and cooperate immediately with all instructions for the duration of the treatment."
"Mmmm," nodded Samantha. It wasn't that the idea of wearing the same kind of gag she'd seen Chloe wearing in the promo video appealed to her. No, she told herself, this was for science, this was research, and she'd do well to get a taste of what these women were going through before she judged them.
"All right," she said to herself. "I can do this. I'll close my mouth, and I won't be able to talk until this woman lets me loose. Just give in to the experience. She knows what she's doing, and these girls seem to love it. Just breathe. You'll get through this."
The thought of being gagged in a way that seemed almost permanent sent a thrill through Samantha. She closed her eyes, closed her mouth, and waited as Mistress Lisa's fingers pressed gently against her lips.
"Mmmm," said Samantha. Her lips had already parted a little and her mouth had started to move as she spoke. Mistress Lisa quickly pulled the strip away before the glue could bond. She'd have to apply a new strip. The medicated permaseal had to go on perfectly.
"Now, I'll apply another one," said Mistress Lisa. "Stay quiet and keep your mouth closed, Samantha."
No more Ms. Steele, it seemed.
"You will respond with 'yes, Mistress," Lisa snapped curtly.
"Y-yes Mistress," Samantha said.
"Very good. Now stay still," Lisa ordered.
Lisa took another plaster from the box, opened the package and removed the backing. She placed it gently over Samantha's lips, then smoothed it gently and methodically, making sure it made even contact and bonded firmly to her skin.
The sensation was strange and intense. It felt as if her lips had been fused shut by a strong adhesive, and there was a faint smell of antiseptic that lingered in the air after she applied it. The plaster was light, rubbery, and extremely stretchy. She worked her mouth around, and felt it move with her lips and cheeks, gently tugging them back to a neutral position when she relaxed her muscles. She pushed her tongue to the front of her mouth, trying to pry her lips apart, but the plaster held fast.
Lisa smiled, "it's effective, isn't it?"
"mmmm!" Samantha nodded. She could still move her mouth, and the glue allowed for enough flexibility for her lips to stretch slightly as she did, but the plaster kept her mouth tightly closed, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't open it.
"Ok, you and Carol, follow me to the changing room," Mistress Lisa ordered.
She turned and walked out of the room, expecting the other two to follow. Mistress Lisa was in complete control now. It was clear she didn't care about Samantha's position in society, her status, her accomplishments…she was here to be a subject, to be taught, and Mistress Lisa would make sure she obeyed. It was actually a bit refreshing for Samantha, who'd been the authority figure and the boss of so many for so long.
The three of them stepped into the dressing room and the door closed behind them. The room was filled with rows of white latex second-skin suits, all of which looked like the one Carol wore, except that they weren't designed to mimic the tone of a woman's skin. Instead, the suits were all in the same glossy white that looked a lot like a mannequin.
Samantha caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror, with the white latex plaster coating her lips, and couldn't help but compare herself to how the much-younger, probably-prettier Chloe had looked in the promo vid. She could clearly see the contours of her lips through the white latex, but the sheen and the smooth, flawless texture of the permaseal were somehow exotic. Her mouth had a wet look, like a freshly painted, plump pout. She felt like a doll, or like some kind of weird fetish toy. She wondered if Chloe liked how the gag made her lips look. Maybe it was the same way some women like the look of their own lips in glossy lipstick, or wearing lipgloss. She was surprised to realize that she felt that way herself.
"Mmm," she tried to ask what was going to happen next, and Carol put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, guiding her to stand in place before the rows of hanging latex.
"I'll need you to undress," said Lisa, "and you'll need to apply the lotion we provided, generously all over, before you put on your suit. I can tell you haven't done it yet, and if you don't, the suit will chafe and feel tight. It will also make you itch and sweat, and that will make you feel sticky."
"Mmmm, mm-hmm," Samantha nodded. Her cheeks grew flushed and she couldn't help but feel embarrassed by her inability to articulate herself. She found herself nervously pursing and working her lips, feeling the latex stretch and adhere to her skin.
And she wouldn't only be mute, soon she'd be naked, then…then she'd be wearing this crazy latex suit…
"Undress, Samantha. Now," Mistress Lisa barked at her.
"MMM!" squealed Samantha, unbuttoning her blouse and instinctually trying to say "Sorry! I'm sorry!" but all that came out was "Mmm-mmm! Hmmph-mmm-mmmph!" She was so flustered by the embarrassment that her voice cracked and she began to tremble as she undid her pants, and began to take her panties off. Carol's hand rested on Samantha's shoulder, comforting and reassuring her as Mistress Lisa towered over the older woman. She'd always prided herself on her body, but in this environment, and especially with these two women, Samantha couldn't help but feel like she'd aged terribly. Her cheeks burned and her hands trembled, as if she were about to burst into tears at any moment. But the thought of that humiliation made her blush even harder.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, forcing her body to relax. As she did so, she felt her nerves settle. But not completely.
"Good girl," cooed Mistress Lisa, who was now smiling, She briefly caressed Samantha's cheek, "Very good. You're a beautiful woman, Samantha. Now, lotion." Samantha snatched the bottle and began to apply the lotion, feeling the cool gel's tingling spread across her skin and relax her muscles. Carol, who had been standing patiently, began to rub her hands together, spreading the same lotion over her palms and then rubbing it over Samantha's body, helping to cover every inch. She began at her shoulders, and then worked down, over Samantha's breasts. It felt nice, like a normal massage at a spa, only they were really getting EVERYWHERE…
"MMMPH!" cried out Samantha as Carol began to work over the area between her legs. Carol had her hands on her butt, her inner thighs, and then…right there.
Samantha blushed again as she realized that Carol's hand had slid between her legs, and was now rubbing lotion between her butt cheeks, and all over her pussy.
Carol's hand stopped, and Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. Then Carol's fingers were on her clitoris, rubbing lotion on the most sensitive part of her body. And she didn't even blink. No expression at all. Just a clinical, detached manner, as if this were a routine medical exam, or a massage.
Samantha felt a strange sense of humiliation and submission. This girl was so young, so pretty, so confident, and Samantha had never let anyone do that to her besides her husband.
She looked over at Mistress Lisa, hoping to find some kind of reassurance that what she was experiencing was normal. Lisa simply nodded, and smiled at Samantha with a look of knowing, as if she understood what the woman was going through.
Carol's fingers slowed, then stopped, and she pulled her hand away from Samantha's pussy. Samantha almost wanted to tell her to keep going, but all she could do was gently moan. She'd never been touched that way by a woman before but to have that sensation end so soon…it felt like a tease.
"Now," Lisa said to her, "the suit. You may have trouble at first, but it's like putting on pantyhose. Just relax and work your way into it, and let the suit's elasticity do the work. You won't need help, you'll be able to get your arms and legs in by yourself. Once your arms and legs are in the suit, I'll help you close it."
Samantha looked at the suit. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, a glossy, shiny, smooth white piece of rubber that seemed to stretch forever. She took the suit in her hands and tried to work it onto her legs. The rubber was cold to the touch and she had trouble getting her leg inside the suit. She struggled for a moment, then tried to work her other leg in. The rubber was slippery, and it felt strange and awkward to have the rubber pressing against her bare skin, but she worked it up until it was around her ankle. Then, she pulled the rubber over her leg and began to work it up. She could hear a slight tearing sound as she pulled the suit up her thigh and over her butt.
She stopped and looked at Lisa and Carol.
"Mmm-mmm?" She asked, worried about whether she'd done something wrong.
"Shhh, it's fine. You're not going to tear it, it stretches," Lisa reassured her. Samantha smiled in relief. It felt good to have Mistress Lisa's reassurance. She felt her body relax and her heartbeat return to a normal rate.
She continued to pull the rubber up her thighs, and then her butt. She was surprised at how easy the rubber stretched over her. She pulled the suit up over her waist, and then began to slide her arms into the sleeves. Once her hands were fully inside the gloves, she felt Carol zipping the suit up, stretching it tightly around her stomach and breasts, then onto her neck like a tight turtleneck sweater. Carol's fingers were at her back now, sliding the zipper up, until finally, it locked into place at the base of her skull.
"MMMmm," Samantha said, looking down at herself. She felt so different, so…strange. The suit was clinging to her body, hugging every inch of her skin. Her nipples were clearly visible beneath the rubber, poking out and forming a slight point on her breasts. It felt tight, and she could feel every inch of the rubber as it pressed against her.
"Feel good?" asked Mistress Lisa, who was clearly enjoying seeing Samantha in the suit.
"mmm," said Samantha. Her voice sounded strange, muffled by the plaster.
"Good, good. Now, we'll have to insert the orifice sheaths," said Mistress Lisa, producing a small but long pink plastic rod from her coat pocket. It looked like a smooth, cylindrical dildo. Samantha shuddered and looked to her crotch, realizing that the sheaths were dangling down, inverted, around six or seven inches from her crotch. She wished she could turn back now, but she had agreed to this, and she wasn't in a position to argue.
Mistress Lisa deftly and methodically pressed the first sheath into Samantha's pussy, pushing it in deeply and securely with the dildo. It pushed the sheath deeper and deeper inside her until it became uncomfortable, then kept going until she felt it hit her cervix.
"MMM! HMM-MMMPH!" squealed Samantha, but the woman continued pressing for several seconds, then withdrew the dildo. Samantha thought the sheath would start sliding out, but it stuck fast in the deepest parts of her, entirely coating her inside walls. Her pussy felt empty but she could feel the latex sheath sliding against itself, muting her internal sensations and giving her entire pussy a rubbery, slippery feel.
It was so bizarre. So alien. She didn't feel like a woman anymore, she felt like…like a sex object, like a doll.
Samantha watched as Mistress Lisa turned to her ass and began to work in the second sheath. The dildo struggled, pressing against her anus for a moment, then she felt a pinch as it popped inside.
"Mmmm!" said Samantha, trying to tell her that it hurt. But it wasn't her fault, and the feeling was already subsiding. The sensation of having her ass filled by a latex sleeve, a sheath, felt bizarre and uncomfortable at first, but as the sheath slid deeper and deeper into her ass, Samantha felt her body relax, and the discomfort was replaced with a strange, pleasurable, sensation. Her body was beginning to feel warm and tingly all over, and she noticed she barely felt her own fingertips on her body through the layers of latex and the strange, stimulating sensation. Slowly, her pussy tingled too, and she knew that sensation was soon to come to her asshole. Mistress Lisa had told her that the ointments and lotions would give her a pleasant tingle, but she had no idea that would also extend to her orifices. She wondered if this was part of the treatment, or if it was something else.
"All done," said Mistress Lisa, "now admire yourself in the mirror for a moment if you'd like, then we'll get you to your bed and get you hooded."
"Mmm…" Samantha moaned, looking at her body in the mirror.
The latex sheaths had transformed her pussy and asshole into rubber-lined, perfectly smooth orifices. She couldn't even feel her pussy or ass any longer, the sheaths were perfectly sealed, coating the walls and blocking off all sensations. Her pussy was a smooth, glossy, tight set of rubber labia with a little rubber button on the top, molded into the suit just like Carol's. Underneath she could see the split in her own labia in the shape of the latex stretched over it. It looked somehow natural, but perfected, abstracted, artificial. With a blush of shame, Samantha realized she missed looking like that down there, the way she had in her youth. Her opening looked like a puckered sex doll orifice, or a rolled up condom, the latex folding in on itself into a tight hole. Samantha realized her pussy was swollen, stretching her suit taut around it and pressing the walls of the orifice tightly into each other. It felt uncomfortable, but also…satisfying, like her body was fulfilling some strange purpose. It felt a bit like the urge to orgasm, the feeling of building up to something, the desire to have her orifice filled. She felt a little like she was in heat, like she was waiting to be mated. Her pussy and asshole both itched with that feeling. The rubber of her sheathes was warm, and her orifices tingled and throbbed, like she needed to be filled.
Her suit felt good, though. The way the tight, clingy rubber pressed against her breasts and hips felt right. The suit clung to her like a second skin, accentuating every curve. It made her look more youthful, more toned, more fit, more feminine. Her breasts didn't sag, and her ass was as tight as it had been in her twenties. It felt so nice. The suit felt warm, and her body felt like it was melting, relaxing into a state of complete bliss.
Samantha looked down at her body and realized her pussy was throbbing with desire. The way the sheaths rubbed against her insides made her feel horny, needy, and desperate for sex. She'd never experienced such intense arousal before, and she didn't understand why her body was responding so strongly. Was this the special chemical responsible for the warm tingling sensation? Was it why Chloe seemed so orgasmic during her treatment earlier? She wished she could ask questions, but instead just stared meekly at Mistress Lisa, waiting for her que.
"Follow me to your table, Samantha," said Mistress Lisa.
They led her to an empty massage bed, one that was covered with a soft white latex covering. They helped her lie down, then fastened a strap over her hips and one over her belly just below the breasts. They covered the straps with a towel. Samantha didn't know the women were strapped down underneath their towels.
"To make sure you stay in place for the duration of the treatment," Mistress Lisa explained, "you may become quite lost in the experience and not notice you're rolling off the bed."
Samantha guessed that made sense. It sounded odd, but she was becoming too distracted by sensation to think too hard.
"Now for your earplugs, mask, and eye plasters. Carol, assist me."
Carol took out a pair of white earplugs from a jar, and placed one into each ear. They fit perfectly, snugly filling Samantha's ears and cutting off the sound of her surroundings. She couldn't hear the sounds of the spa anymore. She could only hear her own heartbeat, the muffled sounds of her body, the occasional creaking and popping of the rubber suit. It was disorienting at first, but soon the feeling of the latex suit pressing against her body replaced the noise and provided her with the comfort and stability she needed. She could barely feel the bed she was lying on through the latex, and the sensation was beginning to make her feel almost numb, yet still overwhelmingly stimulated.
"MMMM…" she moaned softly, and it sounded strange in her own head with her deaf ears. She felt the vibrations of her own voice throughout her face and was keenly aware of every sound she made.
She watched the other women's lips move, but heard nothing. She saw them lowering a latex mask to her face, and allowed the material to engulf her, stretching over her face and pulling her features taut. She could see out the mask through little goggle-shaped cutouts in front of her eyes. She was breathing through little slits in front of her nose, like a pig, but they let just enough air in and out.
Carol and Mistress Lisa's mouths moved again. They were speaking to her, but she couldn't understand them. Then Mistress Lisa was applying the little eye covers, the same as Chloe's, only this time the plasters adhered perfectly, molding and clinging to Samantha's eye sockets, covering her eyebrows. The glue was strong and fast-acting. As the plaster adhered to her face, it pulled her eyes closed. She tried to open them, but her lids wouldn't move.
"MMMM! MMmmm! MMMPH!" the moans felt different inside her head, louder, more percussive. She couldn't hear her own voice with her ears, nor could she hear or see what Carol and Mistress Lisa were about to do. The tingling became more intense, and she felt the sensation of the bed she laid on and the straps on her waist and chest disappear. It was like she was floating, trapped in her own head with her sensations.
She didn't know how long it had been, but eventually she felt the dull pressure of fingertips running along her body.
The sensation was strangely erotic and sensual. The fingertips were moving slowly and rhythmically, and they seemed to be tracing patterns across her body. She felt a tingling, pulsating sensation deep within her groin. She was getting wetter, more aroused, and her mind began to wander to thoughts of her husband and the last time she'd had an orgasm with him. It felt so long ago, and it had been so unsatisfying.
She couldn't hear or see anything. The only sensation she had left was her own touch. The fingers continued to move over her body, pressing into the latex, massaging her and caressing her. The touch felt gentle and soothing, but she also felt something more. It was as if the fingertips were exploring her body, searching for a specific spot.
"Mmm…" She whimpered, feeling a pang of guilt. She shouldn't be feeling this way, this aroused. But the touch was so sensual, so intimate.
Samantha's hands and legs felt restrained, but the restraints felt so light and distant she wasn't sure if they were there or just imagined. Her body was on fire, and her mind began to wander.
Samantha felt herself transported back in time, to a time when her body had felt like this, to a time when she was young and attractive. She saw herself in a mirror, standing in front of it, naked. She admired herself. She ran her hands over her smooth skin, her soft, supple flesh, and felt the warmth of her own touch.
She looked into her eyes in the reflection and saw her face was a blank mask of glossy white. She had no mouth, but the white latex formed into a pouty, perfect set of lips with no gap between them. Slowly, the lips parted, revealing a deep, impossibly long tunnel lined with latex between them. She felt herself being pulled into the mouth, which grew larger and larger until she was falling infinitely down the latex funnel. It seemed to spiral, like a vortex.
She screamed, "MMMMMPH! MMMMMMMMPHMPHMPH!!!! HHHHHHMMMMMM!!!!!", the sound deafening and muted all at once, her jaw and lips straining against their latex prison, her breath ragged and panting through her nose holes. She felt her pussy throb with need. The tunnel was getting tighter, and tighter, and then…
Samantha felt herself being squeezed by a pair of powerful, muscular arms. She couldn't see them, but she knew they were there, holding her tight against her will. She struggled, but she was helpless.
Then the hands were everywhere. Her face was being squeezed and kneaded like dough. Her breasts were being massaged and squeezed. She was being held and fondled, caressed and stroked. She was being used like an object. It felt good, it felt amazing, but it was so wrong.
The hands were rough, they were strong, and they were relentless. Samantha was moaning, crying, screaming through her gag. Her screams were silent, her voice was muffled. She couldn't even hear her own moans, only her heart, pounding, her blood rushing, and her lungs heaving in her chest.
Her nipples were being pinched, twisted, pulled, and she could feel them swell and stiffen under the attention. Samantha was getting so turned on. The pleasure was intense, but it was also wrong. She felt ashamed of her own desire.
"MMM…MMM!" Samantha cried, as her breasts were squeezed and her nipples were pulled and teased.
"Mmmmph…mmmmmm!" Samantha's voice was muffled, and her body was writhing. Her legs were kicking, but they were bound. Her hands were reaching for her captors, but they were bound as well.
Her captors were not done. They continued to squeeze and pinch, pull and fondle, caress and stroke her. They were relentless.
The fingers found her clit. She could feel them pressing into the latex. She could feel the vibration of their fingers, and the tingling sensation that spread from the base of her spine to her clit, and from her clit to the tip of her toes and the ends of her fingers. It was a deep, powerful sensation. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.
The fingers moved faster, harder, deeper. Samantha's clit was throbbing, her nipples were aching. The fingers moved faster and harder. She could hear her heart beating faster, her lungs pumping harder. The pleasure was building, and building, and building. It felt amazing.
Suddenly she felt a pressure inside of her, her pussy and her asshole stretched taut by something she couldn't feel in detail. It was enough to send her over the edge, and she exploded in orgasm, every fiber of her mind willing her to move, to speak, to take some control of the situation, but totally helpless to do anything but shake and buck her hips.
Her visions shifted, from her latex doll self lying on the floor of a strange rubber dungeon to being tied up, hanging from a hook in a ceiling. The vision became a dreamlike reality. She could smell and taste the latex. She could hear the sounds of a whip and a crack of thunder.
The pleasure and visions were too intense for Samantha to bear. Her eyes were rolling in her head, her muscles were twitching and contracting. Her heart was racing, her breathing was labored. She was crying and laughing at the same time. She was experiencing a total sensory overload, her mind completely fragmented.
Her body began to spasm. Her muscles tensed and relaxed. She was shaking and trembling. The orgasm was still going, the pleasure still increasing, but her body couldn't handle any more. She had lost all sense of herself, she had no idea where her body ended and the world began. She was overwhelmed and overstimulated.
Samantha was in a state of pure ecstasy.
Then the vision changed, and she was on a stage, in a black, latex catsuit. Her hair was in pigtails. A man, her owner, was holding a microphone. He was announcing the start of the show.
She could hear him speaking to the audience. She was about to perform for them. She was going to dance for them, to please them.
She was going to dance and perform, to please them, to make them cum, to please her owner, and to make them cum. Her mind was in a frenzy of confusion. She was a human being, a thinking being. But she had no control. Her mind and body were in complete conflict. She didn't understand why she wanted to do this. It was wrong. But it felt so good.
Samantha danced. Her body was in perfect control, her moves fluid and sensual. She was graceful and elegant. Her body was in complete control, her mind a blank.
Then she was being led backstage by a collar around her neck. She felt the cold, hard floor on her bare feet, the warmth of the spotlight on her skin, the gentle tug of her leash, the weight of her chains, the pleasure of her clit being stroked and her pussy being penetrated by the fingers of her owner. The smell of rubber and sweat filled her nose. It was a heady mix. Her mind was a fog.
She could hear her owner speaking to her. She was his toy. She was his slave. She was his sex doll.
She felt his cock enter her. She was in a trance, her mind a blank. She could hear his moans of pleasure. He was using her. He was fucking her. She was being used, being fucked. She was helpless to resist.
She felt her panic mount terrifyingly, threatening to break her totally, to throw her into a world of hell she knew she couldn't escape.
She knew she couldn't escape.
She gave in. She shifted her focus to the pleasure, the warmth and the tingling and the waves of contractions the orgasms were sending through her muscles. She became the plaything the man in her vision expected her to be.
And suddenly, it was all better.
The man was stroking her hair, whispering sweet murmurs into her ears. She could swear she really heard him. Really saw him. Really felt his touch.
Her breathing slowed, and she finally relaxed.
She felt her body coming back to her. A pressure came off her wrists, then her ankles. The tingling was subsiding, and she felt the latex on her body, the bed under her, the straps coming off.
So they really had bound her wrists, her ankles, she thought. She couldn't blame them, she was probably thrashing pretty hard. She still was strapped to the bed, but with her hands free, she began to run her fingertips gently across her body, savoring the freedom, the sensation of touch coming back to her.
Then, one eye at a time and in rapid succession, light flooded back into her world. It blinded her, so she closed her eyes, and saw the bright red of her eyelids, free of the permaseals.
She felt a rush of sensation to her cheeks as the hood peeled away. Her face felt strange without the mask, as if it had belonged there.
The earplugs were pulled free, and she heard, properly with her ears, not in her own head, "good girl. You did very well, Ms. Steele. I hope you feel much better now. You must have really needed that."
Mistress Lisa's voice was so comforting to Samantha she thought she might cry. She might have been crying, actually. She wasn't sure. Her eyes were so wet. Everything was blurry and bright, and her eyes ached from the light. Her vision gradually focused, and her ears gradually stopped ringing. It took a few minutes. She was still strapped to the table, but the straps had shifted, no longer holding her in place. She could move her hands, and the towel that had covered her belly and breasts had been removed, and was folded neatly on the table.
She lifted herself off the table and sat on the edge for a moment. The floor was cool to the touch, and the room was warm, and bright. The walls were white, and the bed was white. Everything was clean and pristine, and it felt a little cold to her. The suit felt warm, and soft, and comforting.
"Let's get you out of here," said Mistress Lisa. Samantha's eyes adjusted, and she realized the woman was smiling at her. She looked so nice. Samantha's face felt wet. She touched it and realized it was wet. She felt her eyes well up again and tears spilled down her cheeks. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her like that. Her body was tingling and she could feel the afterglow of her orgasms.
"Come on, honey, let's get you up and dressed. You're probably starving." said Lisa.
Samantha nodded, her mouth still unable to speak.
She was unsteady on her feet. Mistress Lisa helped her to her feet and steadied her. Samantha felt so tired, and her head hurt. Mistress Lisa's voice sounded like it was far away.
Samantha's legs felt wobbly, her hands were weak, and she was feeling dizzy.
"You must be tired. It's a lot to process, and you've been lying here in a sensory deprivation suit for a full ten minutes. That can feel awfully long, especially if you're not used to treatment."
"Ten minutes? That was all? It felt like forever," Samantha thought as she was led to the dressing room.
She realized she was grateful that she was still gagged, as she looked at Carol, her glossy lipstuck silencing her as well, and Mistress Lisa, whose command she was happy to accept as she readjusted to the world.
She had no idea what she would say if she could speak, and not having to talk took that pressure off.
It was nice.