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Mistress Lilith knew me well. The moment I stepped out of the shower, I saw two girls already waiting to help me get ready for the show. My preparations always took forever... or at least that’s what the photographers and cameramen always said. I catered mostly to the fetish crowd, preferring to use as much leather and latex as possible, and tonight would be no exception.
It wasn’t just a stage preference either. I loved the feel of latex on my skin, and would wear it every chance I could get. I reluctantly passed on wearing a full body catsuit tonight, just so I could give more chances for Lilith and Master Laste to Practice their art.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t get to enjoy myself, though. The three of us made an instant talc blizzard in the dressing room as we rushed to cover my limbs with the powder. I had to smirk at the sight of white powder everywhere, and what someone might think if they walked in to see it. That kind of white powder wasn’t my cup of tea, though, and this wasn’t that kind of party. Once both my body and the inside of my apparel were well covered, we went right at it.
I started off with thin black latex panties and thigh-high matching latex stockings. The panties were easy, but the stockings weren’t. I was extremely fussy about my latex and wouldn’t tolerate any wrinkles, creases, or crooked seams.
As they stretched and pulled everything into place, I began to worry they were too long for my legs, but they wound up covering me perfectly, with perhaps a millimeter of leg left showing. It was almost like they were custom made for me.
Next up was my bra. I stayed with traditional black latex again, but didn’t notice until it was too late that this one had cutouts for my nipples to poke through, and was also a hair on the small side. We still had the bulk of my dressing to get through, so rather than wasting the time to pick out something else, I decided to just roll with it.
Candy apple red, twenty-four inch opera gloves were next, and they split up the labor, each taking an arm to work on. They quickly finished getting them on, and turned to the more difficult task of putting on my boots.
Stiff leather ballet boots with eight inch heels in a red to match the gloves were soon slid up my legs, leaving only a few inches of the stockings underneath showing. It made a striking contrast, and I let my imagination run wild while they laced them up.
Once they were tied and locked on, I tried a few sample steps, and worried I might have bitten off more than I could chew. They were much stiffer and stricter than any I’d worn before, and I found I couldn’t take anything other than extremely tiny steps. The hobble skirt and ankle chains would be completely redundant while wearing these!
“Fifteen minute warning!” a man shouted through the door.
“Shit,” I said. “There’s no way we can get everything done in time.”
“We can finish things up on stage. In fact, I think it’ll look pretty damn hot if we do.”
She was probably right, so other than locking a set of cuffs around my ankles and wrists, I had them turn to my hair and makeup. While I thoroughly enjoyed the first part of my costuming, getting an hour’s worth of styling done in fifteen minutes was not my idea of fun.
Of course, the panel gag with built-in oversized ball they jammed in my mouth, and fastened two or three notches too tight, prevented me from voicing my displeasure. A simple red collar with a matching leash came next. I wondered where they found red leather that matched the latex so perfectly.
They must have missed the memo about the problems I had walking in these torture boots. They attached a short hobble chain to my ankles like I’d originally scripted, but no longer needed. I found it actually did restrict my movements more, and I could only take steps about four inches long.
They finished up our prep work by fastening my hands behind my back, heaved me to my feet, and pulled me out the door by my leash. With no time to spare, and my pace reduced to that of a drunken snail, they changed tactics and moved to each side of me. With a move they must have practiced before, they quickly picked me up and carried me to the edge of the stage.
It made my heart skip a beat to feel myself lose contact with the floor, but once there, I was glad I didn’t have to try and cover the distance under my own power. As I resumed my walk, I discovered a new problem that made me nervous.
When they each put a hand between my legs, they’d caused my panties to ride up a little, and now they were jammed into my folds, causing some rather intense feelings with each step. I’d been hot before, but now I was quickly going out of control.
With each tiny step, I was slowly being brought closer to orgasm, and a simple twelve foot distance to cover meant forty eight steps. There was no way I could make it that far! I tried to communicate my problem to the girls, but all it earned me was a sharp tug on my leash and an almost electric jolt shoot through my crotch at the quick shuffle-steps I was forced to do in order to keep my balance.
Oh, shit! There was no way I could make it now, and if I had an orgasm walking across the stage I would collapse and probably die of embarrassment. Not to mention the fact that Lilith would be royally pissed off and make me pay for it.
Each step I took rubbed the wrinkle in the latex panties over my clit, and brought me closer and closer to climax. With the panel gag sealed over my lips, I could barely get enough air into my heaving lungs. I felt like I was in the beginning stages of oxygen debt, and if anything, it fueled the fire growing out of control between my legs.
Four feet left... three... it took all of my concentration to hold it back, but I was almost there. Two feet... one foot... I thought I was going to make it, but as my handler turned at the end, I stumbled and the dam burst.
A blinding orgasm engulfed me as I fell, the additional constriction from the collar cutting off even more of my breath, driving me to a higher peak. I was seeing spots before my eyes by the time I came down from it and managed to shakily get back on my feet.
I was barely aware of them releasing my hands from behind my back, and only when I felt them being pulled above my head did I realize what was going on. Sitting on a chair and directing the proceedings was Master Laste!
I was in deeper trouble than I’d originally thought. Even though I knew there were two of us here for the show tonight, and two tops, it never occurred to me I’d have anyone other than Lilith over me. I started to sweat with more than the heat of the stage lights... for the first time since my debut bondage scene, I was actually scared of what I’d gotten myself into.
Just as they were about to start putting my corset on, he stood, halted the proceedings, and walked over to me He took his time, going full circle around me and stopping out of view behind me.
“So,” he began. “The slut likes to orgasm, does she? I think a little punishment is in order, but a passing stranger once said I was a nice guy, so I think I’ll oblige you.”
The second I saw Master Laste, I knew a whipping or caning would be in order as a punishment for my orgasm without permission, but the rest of his speech confused me.
Unfortunately for me, the confusion was short lived. For better or worse, the countdown hit zero and my show was now live.