Sara's Story - Part 1
Sara sat, waiting, on the lounge
floor in her empty flat. She looked about her again, still amazed at how
quickly and easily she had been able to dismantle her life once she’d set her
mind to it and how little substance there was beneath the veneer of living it.
She
had sold, given away or simply thrown out everything she had for so long
believed defined her. From her car to her clothes, it was all gone. All that
was left were the few things that actually did give her an identity and these
were in the unsealed envelope laid on the floor at her feet.
And
now, back to the wall, hugging her knees to herself, she existed in the limbo
between the end of one life and the beginning of another.
The
intercom gave a shrill tone and Sara gave a small start and looked at the clock
on the cooker. Right on time. With a shakey breath, she got up and pressed the
door release downstairs without using the intercom to check who it was. She
knew. A few seconds later there was a
short, sharp knock on her flat door and Sara let the man in.
She
knew him as Matthew and though she knew almost nothing about him, it was
because of him that she had so comprehensively taken apart her life. The first
proof she had that he was who he had said he was and could do what he said he
could do, was that he had arrived at her home when he said he would.
And
now he had, she felt no misgivings whatsoever about the situation. The disquiet
she had felt, the sense of ‘what the hell am I doing?’ had gone, evaporated
away like mist when the sun comes out.There was no fear, no uncertainty and no
second-thoughts, just a nervous excitement and anticipation.
He
walked in as if he owned the place but Sara realised that, in fact, he had
walked in like he owned her life and, in truth, he did in ways she could barely
comprehend. And that was why she had stood aside and let him in.
Matthew
walked quickly through what she had once laughingly called ‘home’, looking into
bedrooms and cupboards with the air of an agent inspecting the place and Sara
stood quietly on the spot she’d been sitting and, envelope in hand, waited
again.
“A
very thorough job, Sara,” he said when he’d finished his tour.
She
smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
He
held out his hand and she gave him the envelope, watching as he upended it and
took out the contents.
Keys
to the flat, her passport, birth certificate, driver’s license, medical card, a
few bank and store cards and, finally, what cash she had left, which wasn’t
much.
He
nodded to himself, put everything back in the envelope and tucked it inside his
coat. He looked at her thoughtfully.
“Are
you ready to begin your new life, Sara?”
She
licked her lips, heart pounding and gave a little nod. “Yes sir. I am.”
“And
do you understand the consequences of doing so?”
“I
understand and embrace them all, sir.”
A
thin and cold smile came to his face and his eyes seemed to harden even as he
looked at her. “Good... Wait in the lounge again.”
He
turned on his heel and walked out of the flat and Sara leant against the wall,
tongue flicking across dry lips. She hadn’t realised she had been holding her
breath. A shivering flush breezed through her body and she felt the first
warmth of arousal as choice in her life slipped away, replaced by a delicious,
seductive helplessness. It was… overwhelming.
Matthew
had left the flat door ajar and Sara listened to the soft sound of his descent
down to the lobby and then heard the door door buzzer sound for a few seconds
and guessed Matthew had held it open for someone else. Footsteps approached up
the stairs and then the door to the flat was closed and two men walked into her
empty lounge pushing a long, tall box sat on a porter’s trolley. They leant it
against the wall and took the lid off. Sara was surprised and confused to see
there was a mirror on the inside of the lid but when they positioned it against
the wall and stood her in front of it, she understood.
Whatever
was going to happen, she was to have the best view of it.
The
two men moved together with an easy, comfortable efficiency. They didn’t speak
to her and rarely to each other. Sara’s clothes were pulled off of her without
ceremony until she was completely naked and she briefly wondered if they were
going to rape her. But for all the interest they showed in doing so, she may as
well have been a mannequin.
And
that was what she began to both look and feel like as she watched herself
change under the experienced hands of the men.
The
first thing they did was have her step into a large pair of latex briefs that
had sheathed sockets front and back. Once into the underwear, Sara watched and
then shuddered in exstacy as the men inserted thick, rubber dildos into the
sockets, pushing the sheaths up inside her cunt and ass. Once they were fully
inserted, the men attached a small rubber bulb to the base of the dildo and
Sara felt another wave of utter bliss roll through her as the dildos were
inflated inside her body to almost painful dimensions. That done, the base of
each dildo was sealed and Sara was left almost breathless with pleasure at the
delicious feeling of utter, satisfying fullness.
After
that, she was manhandled into a very tight black lycra bodysuit, which seemed
to grip every inch of her body. Her hands were folded into fists and put inside
mitts that kept them in that position and her feet were strapped into heels so
high as to be almost vertical. Sara almost cried out at the unnatural posture
her feet were forced into but fought it down and kept her silence.
A
thick leather collar was pulled tight around her neck and an equally sturdy
belt fastened round her waist. The belt had two rings, one each side, and her arms
were buckled tightly to them before more belts were fastened round her ankles,
knees and thighs rendering her body almost immobile.
Soft,
rubber plugs were pushed deep into her ears and the sounds of world were
replaced by her own breathing as if heard through a thick layer of cotton wool.
The latex hood that was then pulled over head was heavy and felt almost
painfully tight when it was zipped up, the men careful not to catch her blonde
hair in the teeth. It had eye holes and Sara could see her face had been
rendered devoid of all but the boardest of features, just as her body had been.
She was unrecognisable and she felt a kind of guilty joy at the wet heat
between her legs.
Still,
the men hadn’t finished.
A
breathe through pear shaped rubber gag was pushed into her mouth and the
harness it was attached to was buckled round her head. And at that point the
men checked their works, tested the tightness and fit of left the room.
Blind,
Sara heard and felt tape being wound round her head securing the plugs and eye
coverings in place.
And
then she went in the box.
At
some point, as they were securing her in place with wooden bracing, slotting
the piece around her body, her wrists and ankles and even her neck, pinning her
in place like vertical stocks, Sara began to feel something she had never felt
before; peace.
By
the time she heard them nailing the lid on the box she was crying tears both of
regret that she had wasted so much time before finding her true calling and of
joy that she had found it at all.
And
in the dark quiet of her world, as she felt herself softly bumped down the
stairs from where she’d thought she’d lived, Sara felt herself soothed as if by
a lullaby.
Finally,
she was going home.