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Author's Note: I am very active in Second Life and have several novella length fetish fiction stories available there. So if you enjoyed this come into SL and say hi. Katrinka Karu!!
Chloe heard the staccato clicks of heels outside of her apartment and couldn't resist hurrying to the door's peephole to have a look.
The building catered to wealthy, single patrons the very reason Chloe chose it. Still single at thirty-something, she hoped to parlay her wealth and attractiveness into a long-term relationship. Unfortunately, the only other tenant on this floor was Mr. Jenkins, and while he was an attractive candidate, he seemed both reclusive and standoffish. She'd only spoken with him twice, and he seemed uninterested in her attentions.
Today was Friday, the usual day for Mr. Jenkins' maid to come, but she wasn't due for hours.
The maid was another mystery. For months she'd arrived every Friday afternoon, well before Mr. Jenkins came home, and didn't leave until late. She always wore a long trench coat that covered her outfit, but Chloe could see shiny black boots with at least 4" heels, and shiny PVC gloves. Once, she noticed that the maid had some kind of PVC dress on. She saw its shiny black collar beneath the coat.
Although Chloe had never done kinky things bondage, leather, domination, and such she was not unfamiliar with them. Truth be known, she'd always wanted to experiment, but she'd never found a lover she'd felt comfortable with.
At first, she'd believed the maid to be some kind of B&D mistress. It wasn't until she bumped into the girl in the hallway that she found out differently. The girl politely, but abruptly, said she was Mr. Jenkins' maid, and refused further comment. Chloe deduced from her submissive demeanor that she was likely a slave rather than a mistress. With her manner of dress she was more than a simple maid that was for sure.
The whole situation served to fuel Chloe's imagination.
Peeking out, Chloe saw the maid, but she was dressed rather normally. She stood before Mr. Jenkins door, looked furtively back and forth, then walked away. Chloe was surprised to see she left a bag hanging from the doorknob.
When she heard the elevator doors close, Chloe rushed out to inspect what was hanging on the door. It was a garment bag, and she could see the stiletto heels of the boots poking out.
There was a note, and Chloe leaned in close to read it:
The events of last Friday have proven that I am not the person for this position. Enclosed are the items you gave me.
Please do not attempt to contact me.
"So, the mystery maid is named Rosalita," Chloe said. "Or was..."
Chloe looked around. Mr. Jenkins wouldn't be home for hours. She couldn't resist. She plucked the bag from the door and scurried back into her apartment.
Chloe stood in front of the mirror and gazed at herself in the fetish maid's outfit. It was a good fit, albeit a little tight in the waist.
Although she had sworn to do no more than casual inspection, her curiosity had consumed her, giving way to lustful experimentation.
The outfit started with a bra, crotchless panties, crotch length hose, and a very tight waist cinch, all made of black latex. Over that, she had on a skintight black PVC dress that zipped up the back to the high neckline. Its skirt ended just above her knees and had zippers on the sides, extending from the hips down to the hemline. With the zips closed it was tight enough that she couldn't pull it up at all over her compressed thighs.
There were high-heeled lace up knee boots, and opera length PVC gloves that extended into the sleeves of the dress. To give the outfit a maid's look, she wore white wristlets, an apron, and a cap.
There was also a shiny metal band. She assumed it was a collar, because the size and shape were perfect to fit around her neck beneath the dress. Oddly, it didn't seem to have a clasp or locking mechanism. It simply separated in back and slipped around her neck, it's natural tension holding it snuggly in place. At first she'd felt a slight tingle in her spine, but it quickly disappeared.
There were a number of tiny steel locks, but she left them alone. She looked closely at the outfit and realized that the boots, gloves, and dress each had small hasps that joined together. A simple click of a lock and each would be inescapable without the key.
Chloe strutted around, quickly becoming comfortable in the 4" heels. The outfit felt wonderful, giving her a wicked, fetishy look. She returned to the mirror and realized that from the neck down the outfit molded her into a nearly identical shape as Rosalita.
Chloe fantasized about being Rosalita, serving Mr. Jenkins in whatever capacity he demanded. There was no doubting it, the outfit was for a fetish slave, not a mere household servant. In all likelihood, it was used in countless fantasies over the past several months, and if the note were accurate, they'd become kinkier each time.
Chloe's arousal grew steadily, demanding attention. She tried to press her gloved hands against her crotch, but felt nothing through the material. That was perfect, though. She lay back on the bed, eyes shut, and reveled in the fantasy of being a slave, frustrated and denied.
As Chloe's mind wandered, she felt another, more intense tingling in her neck. Without warning she heard a female voice in her mind.
"COMMENCE DRESSING," it said.
Chloe sat up, startled. After a few seconds the voice came again.
"AUTOMATIC MODE IN 3...2...1..."
Without even realizing it, Chloe stood up and gathered the remaining contents of the garment bag. She watched herself pick up the locks, and quickly snap them shut. In seconds, the boots and gloves were locked on, and the dress had a lock at the end of each zipper.
"DRESSING COMPLETE," she heard.
"What the Hell is going on?" Chloe thought, alarmed. "I'm locked in this outfit!"
She looked for keys, but found none.
She sat down and began to think. Somehow the collar must be controlling her. That meant removing it was her first priority.
The collar was under the neckline of the dress, which meant getting the locks off. They weren't that sturdy - bolt cutters could remove them. Then, off with the collar, a quick trip to the hardware store to replace the locks, and the outfit would be back on Mr. Jenkins' door before he arrived.
She stood, and started toward the closet for the cutters.
"PROCEED TO DESTINATION."
Chloe stopped. She had to get the collar off right now. Quickly, she reached for her neck, pulling at the dress to try to get to the collar beneath.
"AUTOMATIC MODE IN 3...2...1..."
Chloe gasped, clawing at the collar as best she could in the gloves.
"AUTOMATIC MODE ENGAGED."
The collar took over and she stopped tugging at her dress. She reached into the closet, got her own trench coat, and walked to the door.
Inside, she was quaking with fear as she left her apartment.
Chloe entered the keycode to Mr. Jenkins apartment without even thinking. The door clicked open and she strode in.
"Oh, my God," Chloe thought as she entered. "What have I gotten myself into?"
She regained control and looked around. She was in a small foyer with a coat rack and vanity. There was an inner door that led into the actual apartment.
On the vanity there was an assortment of makeup, and a wig stand with a latex hood stretched over it. The hood had holes for eyes, nose, and mouth, and a long black ponytail extending from the crown.
Chloe was too stunned to act. She just let the automatic mode take over.
She took off her coat and sat at the vanity. First, she reached into a drawer and pulled out a wig cap, placing it on her head and carefully tucking her hair under it.
Next, she applied heavy makeup, paying special attention to her eyes and lips.
After completing the makeup, she reached up and pulled on a steel cord that was attached to the wall. It had a small key at the end, which she used to unlock the zipper of the dress at the back of her neck. She unzipped the top of the dress, then reached for the hood.
With the dress undone, Chloe tried with all her will to remove the collar, but she couldn't. She had no control over her actions.
Chloe took a deep breath as she pulled the latex hood on. It was impossibly tight, but stretchy enough that she got it into place. Once on, she tucked the neck portion beneath the dress, then zipped and relocked the dress. The hood wasn't going anywhere until the dress was unlocked.
Chloe stood, and walked through the inner door into the apartment.
"COMMENCE CLEANING BATHROOM."
Chloe looked around for a moment, seeing that the apartment was tasteful and well decorated, then the collar took over and she headed for the bathroom.
For the next two hours Chloe cleaned. The bathroom, living room, den, and kitchen. She figured out that if she did as ordered, the collar would allow her control of her movements. As soon as she deviated, though, automatic mode would kick in. If she did something offensive enough, like trying to leave the apartment or remove clothing, automatic mode would kick in without warning.
Unfortunately, she knew so little of what was supposed to be done that she often ended up in automatic mode even when she tried to comply.
At four o'clock, she was compelled to prepare dinner. She did, after which she ate a little, used the bathroom, and then set the table and served everything. At five o'clock sharp she found herself sitting in the dining room, her tasks apparently complete. She was free of control, so long as she didn't try to leave the chair.
Chloe sat, resigned to face humiliating beyond comprehension.
When Chloe heard the door open, she leapt to her feet and came to attention. She stood next to the dining room table, chin up, ankles together, and arms at her sides with palms resting lightly against her thighs. She was fixed, her eyes the only movement allowed her.
Mr. Jenkins appeared at the doorway. He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled slowly.
"I'm surprised to see you," he said, causing Chloe's heart to race. She tried to speak, but her lips wouldn't move.
He was dressed in an expensive gray suit, and looked every inch the wealthy, sophisticated man. Chloe felt a spasm in her crotch as his eyes scanned her. It was the most attention he'd ever paid her, and she found herself thirsty for it, even under these humiliating circumstances.
He walked over to her and put his face near hers. She could feel him through the thin latex.
"I felt such trepidation from you last week. I pushed you hard, introducing bondage into our relationship in such an... extreme fashion." He paused, and she felt his breath on her face. "I was sure I wouldn't see you again. I'm gratified to see you've accepted my darkest desires."
Chloe felt his lips graze hers as his hands encircled her waist.
"I'm not a selfish man. As our relationship enters this new stage I want your needs to be satisfied. If there's anything you'd like to tell me, anything you'd like to request, I'll listen. I can turn off the speech inhibitor right now if you'd like."
He stepped back and stared into her eyes. "You may move your head, Rosa."
With a sudden jolt it dawned on Chloe that he didn't realize she was an imposter. He thought she was the real Rosalita! And he expected her to answer.
Chloe shook her head "no."
"I see," he said with a sly smile. He stroked her face with the back of his hand. "I'm beginning to regret our agreement that I'd never see your face, never hear your voice. You're as much a mystery to me as when we first met."
He stared at her again, making Chloe nervous. "I think you like it that way."
She smiled weakly.
"After dinner I'll activate tonight's program. It's something special I've been saving. Don't be afraid. It's less strenuous than last week but just as exciting."
He kissed her lightly on the lips, then sat and ate in silence. Chloe's mind raced as she digested all that was revealed to her and her crotch tingled.
Shortly after dinner, Chloe found herself bound in Mr. Jenkins' bedroom. She could see herself in the mirror behind his bed, and knew she presented a sexy, fetishy vision.
She was upright, spread eagled at the foot of his brass four-poster bed. Her wrists were held by leather cuffs and heavy chains that stretched to the tops of the posts. Her feet were similarly cuffed and chained to the posts near the floor. She was held aloft by the tension of the chains, her heels dangling a few inches off the floor.
Her skirt was unlocked, unzipped, and wrapped around waist, leaving her crotchless panties fully exposed.
Over her hood she was wearing a heavy gas mask. She panicked when she'd first put it on, seeing as she was forced to breathe through it, but it didn't seem to limit her airflow. It was attached by several wires to a large black box on the bed, which was in turn attached to a heavy leather belt around her hips that held a small leather paddle on a hinge, positioned to strike her crotch.
Chloe looked at herself and saw she was wet. In fact, she was more aroused than she'd ever been. It was not only the bondage and fetish clothing, but the fact that she'd done all this to herself.
Now, with all the preparations complete, the collar had released control to her. Of course, with the tension of the chains, she couldn't move an inch.
Chloe saw Mr. Jenkins walk in behind her. He moved to her, caressed her for a moment, then walked around and sat on the bed next to the box.
He smiled. "I hope this meets with your satisfaction."
He flipped a switch on the box, and Chloe saw the small hinged paddle begin to pull away from her crotch. When it stood straight out, the hinge released, and the paddle slapped hard against her engorged clitoris.
Chloe gasped at the pain. The paddle pulled back again sharply, coming almost halfway up in a single motion. Then, it continued to rise more slowly until it again slapped down on her clit.
Chloe began to panic. The paddle increased in speed.
Slap... Slap... Slap...
Individually, each slap was painful, but bearable. Combined, the slaps were too much.
In a few minutes the slaps were coming every few seconds, and Chloe was gasping for breath.
Mr. Jenkins turned the machine off.
"I'm disappointed, Rosa. I thought you'd master this exercise quickly," he said. "The paddle is controlled by your breathing. The faster you breathe, the faster it recoils. If you take in quick breaths, it is even worse. You must control yourself. Let's try again."
He flipped the switch and the paddle resumed. Chloe tensed for the first blow, but fought the urge to gasp for breath. After it hit, she breathed slowly and deeply, and the paddle moved slowly, too.
"Very good," he said. "I'll be back in an hour."
Chloe's eyes went wide as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Chloe was nearing desperation when Mr. Jenkins returned. Not from pain so much, but from arousal. Throughout the course of the hour she'd learned to slow her breathing enough that the paddle only slapped her twice a minute.
In slowing the paddle, though, she'd discovered one other facet to this torture. The paddle was sticky. As it moved, it slowly pulled on her clitoris. Combined with the pain, it was deviously arousing.
Mr. Jenkins walked in, this time naked save for a leather half hood. Chloe's eyes fixed on his large cock standing out.
Mr. Jenkins walked up behind her and fondled her crotch. She tried to move to meet his touch, but the bonds were unrelenting.
Almost before she realized it, he entered her, pressing his body against hers from behind. She took in a sharp breath at the sensation, and the slap that came from it was intensified by his cock within her.
She longed to be fucked she was so ready but he just stood there motionless within her. She pushed with all her might, but could generate no friction. Her release was at his whim.
All at once he began to thrust within her, and an orgasm ripped through her. It felt like fireworks exploding all around. It was followed by another, then another. She lost all control, and felt the paddle slapping her every few seconds. It only added to the pleasure reinforcing in her mind the helplessness of her situation.
As the orgasms began to die down, Chloe closed her eyes and drifted off.
When Chloe regained her senses she was lying on the bed, unbound, with the mask and paddle removed. Mr. Jenkins was nowhere to be found.
Automatic mode kicked in, and she found herself returning to the foyer, undoing all her preparations, and leaving the apartment.
Back in her own apartment, Chloe sat naked in an armchair eating ice cream straight from the carton. She looked at the latex garments neatly replaced on their hanger and smiled.
She couldn't decide what to do. It would be an easy matter to reword the note and leave the garments on Mr. Jenkins doorknob next Friday. It would be just as easy to wear them again, along with the devilish collar, and become Rosalita for another round of kinky sex.
Chloe got up and tossed the half-eaten carton of ice cream in the trash. That latex dress was tight enough already...