eenslaved: They took a couple’s weekend now and again. When he felt they needed one. Alw
eenslaved: They took a couple’s weekend now and again. When he felt they needed one. Always the same hotel because it didn’t really matter where they stayed, really, as long as the room was clean and well-appointed. They would arrive there on Friday evenings, after the rush hour traffic had dwindled. She would walk in the gold doors, knowing she wouldn’t walk back out for another 48 hours.She bathed herself, scrupulously made sure she was shaved smooth. When she stepped outside, nude and dried off, he would have stripped the bed and covered it with the absorbent under pad and waterproof overlay. He didn’t assist her with the suit until she needed it. He helped make sure her hands were curled and tucked away into the latex pockets that trapped them into folded circles. The suit molded over her flesh like it was poured on. The hood encased her head completely, and she was sealed in. He checked.He guided her to the bed, helped ease her back, and then he began buckling the straps around her neck, over and under her breasts, across her stomach, hips, pubis, thighs upper and lower, knees, calves, ankles. The vibrator was nestled into the crease between her legs and strapped in. He moved at it and adjusted the straps and continued doing so until it couldn’t be budged.Then he turned it on and it was all she knew. Her body was no longer hers. It bucked and strained independent of her will. She was helpless to control its seizures and undulations. The sounds it made were not owned by her; they took her over. They didn’t escape the hood, or just barely, so they stayed with her. He sat back and watched her, the smooth, shiny, black-encased figure, swelling and surging, tensing and uncoiling. Time passed, interrupted only by moments when he unstoppered her mouth and gave the hole a straw to sip water from.He turned off the vibrator when it was time for him to sleep. He slept beside her, moving his hand over the smooth form, tightening his hand over the taut flesh, squeezing the bulging breasts, thumbing the vibrator on, off, on, off, until he drowsily drifted to sleep.He unstoppered her mouth in the morning, fed her warm oatmeal, gave her more water. The vibrator was on again. She begged him between swallows to turn it off; when she was fed, he closed the hole in the hood again. The vibrator stayed on.When he next removed it, it was to clean her. He carried her to the tub, turned the jets on to pummel muscles that had been straining at length. The first suit was removed for cleaning. The second suit, fresh, gleaming, was waiting for her when she was done.It was always harder to get her into the second suit. He had to put it on her all the way. She was crying the whole time. He reminded her how she begged him to let her come just twenty-four hours ago, begged to wear the suit if it meant the chastity belt would be removed. “Remember, you asked for the suit.”He stood by the bed and stroked himself. He timed his climax with hers. When her body tensed, fought the suit and the bondage, his seed boiled out, leaving milky discharge on the black suit. Again and again. -- source link
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