Michael bounced along as best he could, the rubber floor beneath him stretching and pulling with every shift in his weight. He had already badly rolled his ankle in his first mad dash, but he refused to slow down. There seemed to be no way he could adapt to this hazard. Each small room in the maze seemed to have different thicknesses of rubber at different tension. Every time he thought he had his stride, the floor would change, and he'd be back to stumbling and balancing again.
But he would not slow down.
Such a poor boy,
naked and scared,
the touch that I bared.
Her song echoed along the rubber walls, occasionally catching them and causing them to vibrate with her tune. The creepy melody seemed to come from everywhere, and Michael constantly second guessed himself, worrying he might be bounding his way right back to her.
Lost in the rubber,
lost and alone,
dreading a pain,
that pierced to the bone.
“Shut up, you freak!” he screamed over his shoulder, breaking his stride and sending him bouncing and rolling along the strange floor. But the song did not falter in the slightest.
in desperate search,
to find some way out.
That verse finally stopped him. It felt a little on the nose, and paranoia washed over him. Michael pulled and dragged and rolled himself to the nearest wall. With great effort he pushed his body to sit against it, and then tucked his legs against his chest. For a moment he could only huddle there and tremble uncontrollably, worried that soon he would once again feel her touch. Fear washed over him and he lamented how only a few short moments ago, he'd thought himself the luckiest guy in the world.
The more Michael saw of the house, the more amazed he was. The bathroom was incredibly luxurious and spacious - easily a dozen times the size of the one in his apartment. At one corner of the far end was a walk in style shower easily as big as his entire bathroom. He could see it was one of those deluxe models, designed to spray water from multiple points along the ceiling and walls. But it was the full sized jacuzzi that really got him going. Immediately, thoughts of the two of them turning a relaxing cleanup bath into literal hot and steamy sex filled his mind. And those were just the obvious luxuries. With beautiful marble and highly polished stainless everywhere, the rest of the bathrooms appointments all looked like something out of an expensive hotel suite. Though he didn't need to sit down, he was certain the padded seat of the toilet was heated. And everything was perfectly neat and tidy too.
This girl was obviously loaded, and either really good at cleaning or rich enough to have other people do it. And she was easily the sexiest girl he'd ever picked up, nearing a perfect ten. She'd even been an amazingly playful tease. Despite the fact that her luxurious dress covered her from head to toe, complete with opera gloves, she expertly worked its tight curves in a way that made him beg to see what it hid. She also kept luring him in close, only to stay out of reach while making promises of what they'd do back at her place.
He decided that he had to try and get her name and number before this was over. Not only would he love to turn a woman like this into a regular booty call, but if she was as genuinely sweet and playful as she'd been at the club, she might even be the one.
Now he just needed to continue his good impression. She had sent Michael into the bathroom to “freshen up” so that she could take the opportunity to prepare for him in the plush lounge beyond. He was willing to bet she was getting ready to knock him off his feet when she finally revealed herself. But he was determined that he'd make an impact as well. He spent the remaining moments checking every detail of his naked appearance in the mirror. From his stance, to his expression, to his hair, he wanted everything to be like the cover of a romance novel. He was pretty sure he was ready when her soft, soprano voice called to him through the double doors.
Michael paused for a moment there, determined to enter strong and certain there was going to be a sight on the other side that might reduce him to a stammering moron. He gave one last set of sexy eyes to the mirror, and threw the doors open.
It took everything he had to keep his cool. She was everything he'd been secretly hoping for.
She was relaxing in a near seated stance against the side of a large, velvet couch. Her ankles were barely crossed, and Michael had to fight following the curve of her long sexy legs with his eyes for too long. A royal violet negligee of near see-through lace hung loosely around her slender shoulders. The fabric did little to obscure her perfect breasts, resting large and pert beneath. The nighty was only just large enough to reach past her ample hips as they rested against the back of the couch. If she was wearing anything underneath, it wasn't much.
But in only the brief moment it took him to take in her reveal, he was already drawn back to her eyes. She was beautiful to be sure. Her lips were thick, lush, and covered in a shade of red that seemed to just scream sex. Her auburn hair fell in lively waves over her shoulders. But it was her eyes that held him the longest. They were a piercing, beautiful sky blue like he'd never seen. And their gaze just seemed to vibrate with carnal thoughts.
He felt a buzz of excitement play along his skin. Just being near her seemed to be stimulating. And he felt like he was playing his part too as those brilliant eyes seemed to drink him in, and she pulled her bottom lip into her teeth as she watched him.
She moved first, turning slowly and deliberately to the front of the couch, letting her hand trail along the back and revealing how little of her ass the negligee could cover. She brought that same hand up to beckon him over her shoulder with a finger as she gestured silently for him to sit. He followed her, playing it as cool as he could. That feeling of excitement grew with every step closer. It took Michael all the willpower he could muster to not just run up and grab her then and there. But instead he feigned at casually walking where she directed, and then sat down to relax in the warm comfort of the sofa. He spread his legs out just enough as he did to display himself proudly before her while smiling up comfortably.
“Now,” she purred out to him in that light, sweet, voice, “I want you to do something for me. There's something I want you to experience before we really get started.”
“Oh,” Michael responded, raising a curious eyebrow as he waited expectantly for her to continue.
“I want you to just sit there, relax, and don't move, while I touch you. And I want you to try your best, to keep it together while I do.”
Michael was already having difficulty keeping it together, but he smiled up at her, “That sounds like a challenge I can hardly say no to.”
She smiled down at him, inching closer before she lighted on the sofa next to him. The closer she got, the more excitement Michael felt. It seemed like the air itself was more alive around her, and he had to force himself not to squirm.
Slowly, eyes intently on him the whole time, she brought her right hand up and began reaching for his arm. As her hand got closer, he felt a near electric wave washing over him. He had only a moment to realize that it wasn't excitement that seemed to be growing as her fingers drew near, and the energy he was feeling was more than just like electricity.
There was a bright flash and a jolt of searing pain shot through Michael's body. A harsh, contorted cry bellowed from his mouth. He jumped and scrambled his way over the couch, across the lush carpet floor, and pressed his body against the opposite wall. Heavy, panting breath pulled itself from his lungs, as he stared wide eyed at the apologetic woman still resting on the couch.
“Sorry,” her voice wavered slightly in seeming sympathy, “that was a really bad one.”
“Bad one!” he screamed in outrage, “what the hell kind of sick game are you playing!” Michael's brain raced to rationalize what had just happened. He looked at the back of his arm. A bright red mark made him wince as he touched it. He looked at the carpet and sofa, and wondered if she had meant it as a joke. But that had been no simple static shock. It was like she'd hit him with some kind of taser. He began scanning the room, looking for where she might have hid such a weapon.
“I'm sorry, it's not a game,” she pleaded, a hint of desperation growing in her voice. “It's usually not that bad, but it seems to get worse the more excited I get.”
“What, you're saying you did this?” he spat in disbelief.
“It's why I wore gloves at the club, and wouldn't let you kiss me. I've tried explaining it before, but no one ever believed me. And when I demonstrate it, everyone always thought it was a trick and always accused me of having something on me.”
Michael began shaking his head in disbelief, just getting angrier as she tried to explain.
“I've even been arrested! This is the only way I can show that it's me! See, I'm naked. There's no trick, there's no device,” she tore her negligee off standing naked before him and even turned about. “It's just me. This just happens.”
Michael didn't know what to believe, though he still wasn't buying that she could just shock him. He started to approach her, intent on being more direct but stopped in his tracks. That electric thrill was still there, but now it was filled with a memory of agony so severe it made him buckle. Every nerve screamed for him to stay away. With growing horror, he realized this not only wasn't some kind of trick, but that it was palpably real. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack. Without even thinking he moved back against the wall as his perception locked on her.
“You can feel it, can't you. You know I'm not lying. I'm really sorry. Really, I am! But this is the only way I could show you.”
Michael began shaking his head, his anger completely drained as fear began to replace it.
“But, look! It's okay! We can still have fun! We can still fuck! Now that you know, it's actually really easy. We can...”
“No!” Michael screamed at her and began trying to move further away. He needed to get out of here. He didn't really know what was going on, and he didn't want to know. He just knew he needed to get away from her as soon as possible. His mind began racing. Clothes first! He needed to get his clothes. Michael stormed off to the bathroom again.
He searched the room, turning a deaf ear as he heard her continue to stammer out something to him. The room was still every bit as tidy as it had been when he'd left. Where had he put his clothes? He had taken them off in here, hadn't he? He struggled to remember, and realized just how panicked he was. He began taking long, slow breaths. The pain he'd felt and the stinging burn left behind still disturbed him. But he was beginning to feel a little bit more rational now. He remembered there'd been a hamper, but he didn't see it. He moved to demand his clothes back, heedless of the fact that she couldn't have possibly moved them, but stopped at the door.
Michael could still hear her as she continued to talk. She seemed to be talking to herself now, more than trying to explain or convince him not to leave. Her voice was low and monotone. And when he heard her words, he felt a pang of guilt.
“They never understand. They never listen to me. It would be so much easier if they'd just listen. So much easier. I wonder if anyone ever will. I think, just once, I'd like them to listen.”
Her voice grew quieter and trailed off. Michael rubbed at the back of his head. There was no way he could see staying with her, but at least he could probably be nicer about it. He just needed to steel himself for when he felt that weird sensation again. Gritting his teeth he slowly opened the door and entered the room quietly, his head hanging slightly.
He could feel that faint buzz, but he forced himself to look at the floor. He breathed out a sigh, “Look,” he started, and lifted his gaze to speak to her.
Fear ran cold through him.
Michael had braced himself to let her down despite however sad or depressed she might get. A part of him had worried she'd been crying. Maybe he'd look at her and she'd have that cold, resigned face of someone who'd heard the same excuses before. Maybe she'd initially be happy that he didn't seem angry anymore, and then he'd have to watch the disappointment hit her. But this was the one thing he was definitely not expecting.
She was practically giddy. Her face looked like a kid on Christmas, brimming with excitement. No, that wasn't appropriate. There was nothing innocent or childlike about the smile on her face. With growing dread Michael realized she wasn't the least bit disappointed with how he had reacted. She was ecstatic.
He glanced around the room, searching for the hamper or any other sign of his clothes. He stopped and looked at her, figuring he might just ask. The way her delight continued to grow, sent chills down his spine. With a near panicked determination, he dashed over and grabbed her discarded negligee, keeping as much distance as he could. Balling them up he pressed them to his groin and headed for the foyer.
A genuine panic began to grab him as he got there.
He could see the two windows that had flanked the door, each thick glass and steel. He could see the hooks for jackets, an elegant parka hanging from one. A rack and stand stood ready with a few cute hats and simple, black cane umbrella. Her sexy black pumps where still there, having been discarded as they entered.
But there was no door, just a blank featureless wall.
Michael dashed to the surface in disbelief. He felt around at it, knocking and slapping at it. There were definitely gaps where the door actually was, though the surface was well fitted. He tried to pry fingers, or even a nail into them so he might pull the facade away, but he couldn't find any purchase.
“You can't get out that way.”
She was standing at the entrance to the lounge. Her smile was much calmer now and less menacing. But a shiver still crawled up Michael's spine as he remembered the previous expression, and his body felt that prickling static.
“What do you mean! What is all this!” Michael flipped his fear back into anger. “Where's the door! Where are my clothes!”
“I had that door replaced so that it can only be opened from the outside. You have to exit from the bottom level at the beach. That's the only door that goes both in and out.”
“So give me my clothes back, and take me to that door,” he hissed out at her, growing angrier by the moment.
The woman turned her head and tapped at her chin as if considering his request.
“Give me my clothes back!” he screamed at her and began to reiterate his previous demand only to be cut off.
“Silence,” her voice was sharp, calm, and stern. “You seem to think you can just demand what you want. What if I don't feel like following your angry little orders. What exactly will you do? Can you take them back? What can you even do?” She stepped towards him slowly and deliberately.
Almost instinctively, Michael backed away, pressing his back against the one way entrance.
“You can't even approach me can you. And even if you did, you couldn't even stand to touch me. All I have to do is trace a finger along your skin, and you'll do anything I want to get me to stop.”
The dread returned, as the reality of the situation dawned on him. She had lured him into a trap to begin with. Maybe a part of her had hoped her touch wouldn't hurt him, or that he wouldn't react the way he had. But she had planned on everything occurring just as it had, and was more than happy with this outcome. Trapped with this woman and her electrifying touch, he was completely at her mercy.
“What do you want from me,” he managed to stammer out.
“Well,” once again she seemed to consider his words, “with how rude and violent you've been, I don't think I'm in the mood anymore. I think I need you to do something to get my motor revving again.”
Michael swallowed, wondering how he could possibly do anything sexual with her if touching her would be so painful.
“Tell you what,” she looked at him, and there was some of that playful expression he'd found so delightful before. “You want to leave, and I want to get laid. So how about we play a little game – a wager of sorts.” She turned to walk away, beckoning him once again with a seductive smile and gesture. To Michael's shame, he felt his body responding to her. Still, it was with great reluctance he followed her.
She stood waiting before a pair of double doors, far larger than the ones for the bathroom. Michael had been so enraptured when she first brought him into the lounge, he'd barely noticed them. And even when he did, he was far too focused on getting to the action to care where they lead.
“We're going to play a little game of 'hard to get',” she explained with a smile. “Only, I'll be chasing you, of course.”
Michael swallowed nervously and noted that he was trembling. The thought of her tackling him down for some action would have been extremely stimulating earlier. Now with what he knew about her touch, it horrified him.
“I told you that the door to the beach leads both in and out of the house. At the far end of the house is a set of stairs. The door you're looking for is directly to the left at the bottom of those stairs. You find those stairs, go out the door and you'll be able to find your clothes and leave.”
Michael just listened in silence, waiting for her to explain the rest. A sense of dread filled him as he waited for her to tell him the catch.
“However, it wouldn't be much of a game if you could just walk to those stairs. So I've built a bit of a course for you to run.” She threw the doors open, revealing a white featureless hallways, promptly cut off by what appeared to be an almost futuristic looking chamber.
The walls where a glossy black and framed by polished metal. A small entranceway, no more than four or five feet wide stood raised just over a step off the floor. Michael could see that the chamber beyond had similar shiny, black walls, floor, and ceiling, and that the steel at each corner held track lighting to illuminate the way.
“I designed this maze myself. Spent way more than I care to admit on it,” she looked proudly at the structure like a painter presenting their latest work. “You can find a way to escape within that maze. Don't worry, you'll get a good head start. Find a way out of the maze, and you'll never have to fear my touch again.”
Michael didn't even know how to respond to any of this. He spent a moment in stunned silence, looking back and forth between his captor and the menacing structure she'd shown him. The sheer scope of what was going on dumbfounded him. He realized, without a doubt, that this had been what she wanted all along. Maybe it would have been a pleasant surprise if he hadn't freaked out on her, but she had always intended to play this high stakes game of tag with him.
He also realized she had not said anything about what would happen if she caught him. He turned back to her, hesitant to ask. It was only then he realized he'd been walking towards the indicated means of escape. She now stood between him and the only other way out of the hall. It was either go where she told him, or he'd be forfeiting to whatever she intended. And from the growing heat in those piercing blue eyes, he was certain that she'd happily take him here and now despite any protest he might make.
“Well,” she almost purred in that same voice that had created a much different type of shiver only minutes ago. “What are you waiting for? One. Two.”
Michael didn't know how much of a head start she intended to give him, but he wasn't spending another moment near her willingly. Still glancing wearily over his shoulder, he shrunk away and stepped into her maze.
But now her embrace seemed inevitable. Michael rocked back and forth against the rubber wall as he tried to quiet his shaking nerves and slow his ragged breath. But his fall had calmed him enough to realize he had no sense of where he was. He was so desperate to get away, and struggling so hard against the rubber structure, he hadn't even tried to keep a specific direction or remember a path. Desperately, he began glancing around trying to figure out what he should do next.
This appeared to be the only wall in this section. The small square segment was open in each other direction. To his right he could see the path continue on for a few of these “cells” before opening up on each side. In front of him he could see two cells ahead, open on the right in the first cell and the left in the second. The cell to his left was almost completely closed off with the only opening at the left again creating a blind corner next to him.
The black rubber was shiny and reflected the track lighting, sending glossy patterns of white here and there. But Michael could make out no reflection in the walls to see past the blind corner. Sitting there, worried she was close enough to at least guess at what had happened, he had to fight the growing fear that threatened to overtake him.
With horror, he realized the song had ended. The little junction in the maze was deathly quiet, only the creak of rubber at his back reached his ears. Try as he might he couldn't calm his breathing. His eyes stayed locked on that blind corner to his left, fearful that any moment she might be upon him.
A drum like concussion echoed throughout the maze.
Michael turned away from the corner finally, glancing in all directions. That had to be her. Where had the sound come from?
The sound repeated again, louder, and closer.
That was definitely from the right. It was from the right, wasn't it? Still he couldn't be certain he hadn't heard it from the left, too. That menacing blind corner once again gained his focus. He quickly shook his head out, realizing that it didn't matter if it had come from the left or the right. There was one direction he was sure it hadn't come from.
Rising to an uneasy stance, Michael plodded off again just as the sound struck a third time, this time definitely to his right. He dashed forward, trying to get at least one good step on each piece of track lighting to propel himself faster. He grabbed the first turn left, then chose to take the next right so that he had a “forward” direction. He decided if she had been behind him to the right, he would move as forward and left as he could.
He bounded onward, past another turn, left, then back to forward. Crap, he could only go right here. He took the turn, relieved to see another left to return to his previous course. Then another left, then back to forward, then another left, and another...
Suddenly, he found himself in a long section without any turns. He stopped himself, both relieved and worried. On the one hand, a section this long had to be near the outside of the maze, right? He had just turned left twice, hadn't he? That meant he was heading in the opposite direction of where he had been trying to go. Had he managed to run to a section either running the length of, or perhaps even outside, of this maze.
On the other hand though, this was a pretty long stretch with nowhere else to go. Michael was still having difficulty making any real speed along the rubber. His pursuer had probably mastered ever step of this trap. If she came upon him now, she might be able to overtake him.
Reflexively he glanced over his shoulder before looking back down the steel and black rubber hallway. He had meant to gauge how far he had already moved, but he looked back again as something caught his eye.
There on the corner wall back the way he came, almost imperceptible, was a second piece of rubber. Quietly as he could, listening as intently as possible, he moved towards it. He stopped at the corner, peering around as much as he dared, cursing that it was another blind corner. But he was desperate, and he would not give up this possible discovery.
Michael's hand found the stray sheet of rubber, and discovered that not only could he slip his fingers under it, it was loose and could be lifted away. Beneath it was a hole in the rubber wall, too small for a him to fit through comfortably, but small enough perhaps for his captor.
Realization dawned on him. She had said he could find “a way to escape”. She had never said it was a way he could get out. But Michael would not admit defeat yet. He tested the hole and the thickness of the rubber. It seemed to proceed for a little bit beyond, and the rubber was tacky and resisted his arm as he tried to slide deeper. But it seemed to have a descent amount of give and he could feel it open up less than a foot into the wall. He just had to force his way through that first part.
Of course if she had this little trick to get through the maze, she might be able to close on him quickly, even if he couldn't hear her nearby. And if she had a network of these or could just walk around the outskirts of the maze and enter again where she chose, she could already be waiting for him on the other side.
Once again, everything was deathly quiet, no singing and no drumming. He was certain he would find no other way out, but he also didn't know what awaited him here. And if she came upon him while he was forcing his way through the rubber, he might literally be screwed.
Michael took a moment to psych himself up, and decided to chance it. He plunged head and arms into the whole with wild abandon. As he had noticed before, the rubber clung to his skin and fought against him to get through. Additionally, though he could get good traction, the floor beneath him yielded as he pushed. He had no choice but to force himself through with almost pure upper body strength. As he had hoped, though the rubber refused to give up without a fight, it did stretch to let him fit. His head and shoulders finally emerged on the other side.
Wherever he was now, it was completely dark, and he couldn't see what else lay before him. Still, Michael did not hesitate. If this was a dead end, he'd rather turn around and be able to look out from this side then try to force his way back out. He braced his hand beneath the wall, and began to push. The skin of his chest, especially his nipples, complained as it was dragged along the tight rubber orifice. His breath strained and his arms and shoulders ached, but he would not stop. He realized he was probably making a lot of noise, and that any moment she might realize what he was doing.
Silently gritting his teeth, he pushed until his hips were up to the hole. He was having more difficulty with leverage now. But gravity was working in his favor, his weight pulling him downward to stretch the opening. He twisted his body, even as the rubber burned at his skin, so that he was in line with the way it was shifting. Somewhere behind him, he heard more rhythmic pounding, like carefully timed steps. He pushed forward and down hard in one last desperate effort.
With his hips finally through, he felt his legs drag against the rubber, but gravity pulled him clear. As Michael fell to the ground he found himself on a sudden and slick incline. His body fell forward with his momentum, a wet splash greeting his face before he slid the rest of the way through the hole. His face pressed with a crash into something hard and round.
Michael spun about to look up and back, but the way behind him shed little light. He began to feel around in the slippery darkness, but couldn't quite make out what he was feeling. The slimy substance was all around him, and it was difficult to get a sense for his environment. It felt almost like fabric, but it was thicker, and seemed to stretch with his movements.
“No!” Michael screamed, his voice not even echoing or vibrating around him. Once again, he realized he'd played right into his captors hands. He had not found any escape here, just more rubber. And though he had room to move and twist and turn, there was no way he was getting back out the hole with his body in this position. As he continued to grope around, he realized he had just delivered himself into a nice rubber sack for this twisted woman.
There was a metallic clank, and Michael felt the rubber get tighter near his feet. With impotent fury he kicked back the way he came only to have his feet slide and press against the rubber trapping him. After struggling for a bit, pushing and stretching, and looking for any purchase he could find, he fell back onto the slick ramp beneath him. His lungs burned, his confines already growing hot and stuffy. For a while he could only lie there as he struggled for air.
Suddenly, he felt something cool blowing against his forehead. Idly, almost thoughtlessly, he searched out with his hands. He found the hard round object he'd fallen against. It was sitting a little above his face, hanging from the rubber. He groped it blindly, and realized it was some kind of ball. There was a whole in one side from which cool air was flowing. Suddenly Michael realized that like everything else, the ball was made of rubber. And everything suddenly clicked like electricity through a bulb.
He didn't have time to think on the epiphany. The sound of a motor firing up somewhere nearby filled the empty darkness. He felt a sudden rush of air moving past his body, and the rubber began to tighten around him.
“No, no!” he began struggling again as panic took him. It was quickly getting difficult to breath. His right hand brought the ball to his mouth where he began sucking in the gentle flow of air. Still feeling the rubber tighten around him, he kicked at it with his feet while trying to hold it back with his free hand. But as the vacuum built up, nothing could fight the constriction. Slowly, his left hand was pushed back against his chest and his legs were pushed together. His right hand began to press against his face and the ball was forced into his mouth.
But even when the rubber had finally pushed back against his skin, it was not done. Slowly it squeezed tighter and conformed to his body. It stretched in between Michael's thighs, it formed around his neck and chin. It even began to work it's way between his fingers. It pressed in around every part of his body, squishing his ears against his head and flattening his nose. It pulled tight until it became difficult for Michael to tell where his skin ended and the rubber began.
When it was over, his legs were welded unevenly together, his left arm was contorted uncomfortably backwards against his stomach, his hand was clasped permanently to his chin, and the rubber ball was sealed tightly between his lips. Trapped in this strange fate, he could only wiggle about impotently his mind racing to what plans this terrifying woman might have for him. His only consolation was that he had realized that as long as he was surrounded by rubber, she couldn't use her touch against him.
Elizabeth drummed her fingers lightly against the wall of her maze as she walked towards her prey's chosen means of escape. As expected, he had found one of her waiting vacuum bags. Of course she helped inspire him to continue the search with her antics. From outside the maze, it was easy for her to keep tabs on him. A network of cameras and speakers allowed her to watch his every move and taunt him to her hearts content.
Of course she had sealed the entrance to the maze before beginning her part of the game. Had the boy managed to circle back, he would only have found another dead end. And if he had stubbornly searched, there was a handy latex sack nearby.
She always delighted in watching them scramble through her trap, trying to find one of the promised means of escape. And Elizabeth enjoyed trying to find the best stimulus to get them into the right mindset to take it. She only lamented that this one had gone for it so fast. The more time they spent here, the more she could play with them, the better the sex would be later.
Oh well, it was only a small disappointment in an otherwise thrilling evening.
Three of her drones were busy finishing the restraints as they secured her vacuum sealed toy to a cart. She pressed a button on a remote and all three came to immediate attention. They were, of course, her best trained men. Working completely blind, deaf, and with their sense of touch dulled by their latex zentais, it took a lot of practice to learn how to serve her. And when it came to helping her prepare her next drone, they also needed to be thoroughly loyal. The years of service in darkness and silence had made them fully dependent on her voice, beauty, and touch as their only source of sensory stimulation. These three would do anything at the mere threat of simply being denied her presence.
And soon this new toy would be one of them. Elizabeth ran her hand down the man's latex encased body. It shivered and trembled at her touch, and even tried to move away from her. But that would change in time. He would get plenty of her attention until he accepted his new role and owner. With his body safely bound in rubber, she could explore his centers of pleasure to her hearts content. And should he stay obstinate, her curse was the perfect means of correcting the behavior. But once he became an obedient plaything, he would discover just how good it could feel to be one of her rubber drones.
For Elizabeth was always honest with the men she captured. As long as they stayed trapped in her latex grip, they never had to fear her touch again.