She looked around and could see no one. How did she get here? Where was

here? Why was it so dark? She tried to move but could not. Her body was

held rigid by something wrapped tight around her, pinning her arms and

legs down. She tried to call for help but her mouth was gagged. She

twisted and turned, rolling on the cold floor as she fought to escape.

Suddenly a bright light shone over her, blinding her completely. As her

eyes got used to the light she tried to see who was there, but she could

not see past the lights. All she could see was the black and white

checker of the tiled floor she was lying on. The floor seemed to go on

for ever, disappearing into a black horizon. Her body was wrapped in

black a shiny rubber tube, covering her from neck to toes. It was the

rubber that had kept her from moving. Several ominous looking wires came

out next to her feet and disappeared into the shadows. Suddenly a voice

boomed loudly. "Mademoiselle Gaumont! We know you have been hiding

english POW's in your shed! What have you done with them?" A shiver of

fear went down her spine. The Gestapo! How had they discovered her? She

tried to profess her innocence but she could not speak through the gag.

Again the voice boomed. "I said, where are the POW's? It would be

difficult for you if you don't co-operate! Speak whore!" Again she tried

to reply but the gag prevented it. What was going on? Couldn't they see

that she was unable to reply? "Very well, have it your way. Hit it Hanz"

Suddenly small electrical shocks coursed through her body. They had

inserted electrodes into her sex and anus! Another two were placed over

her nipples. She had expected to be tortured but instead the electricity

felt like several fingers coursing over her skin. The sensation was

gorgeous and she moaned in pleasure as the electricity flowed through

her. Suddenly it stopped! "Had enough yet?" asked the voice. "We can go

on for the whole day, we've plenty of time. Ready to be more

co-operative?" She could just shake her head and try to thrust her jaws

towards the light. "I'm gagged you fools!" she tried to shout. Again the

electricity flowed, slightly stronger this time. It just heightened the

pleasure. For several seconds she rolled over the floor, wriggling and

squirming as thousands of little finger caressed her. As she was about

to reach orgasm the fingers disappeared. She was panting heavily through

her nose, the shiny rubber squirming and bulging as her ribs strained

against the tight surface. Already she could feel little pools of sweat

form under the rubber. She rolled onto her stomach, forcing her breasts

into the hard floor. She could just make out the pressure of the metal

clips on her nipples. They should hurt, and yet they did not. Suddenly

another voice spoke. "Mademoiselle, I know this hurts. Surely you

realize that you have no choice but to co-operate?" The voice was

soothing and reasonable, but she was not fooled. They were playing bad

nazzi, good nazzi. "Are you prepared to talk?" the soothing voice asked.

Again she shook her head, trying to make them understand. Again the

shocks returned. This time it was even stronger, making her groan in

pleasure as it coursed through her. She squirmed and rolled, groaning

and moaning through the gag. It felt so goooood! She arched her back,

trusting her breasts and hips into the air in pleasure. She could feel

the climax coming, closer and closer till she was just about to... and

the electricity disappeared. She screamed in frustration - that was so

close! She tried to roll over to the light, trying to reach the little

button that would send her over the edge. She could hear the men

laughing at her desperate attempts. Suddenly a black leather boot

flashed behind the light, collided with her ribs and sent her rolling

back to the center of the spotlight. Her ribs were bruised, but it was

nothing in comparison to the throbbing in her sex. She could see her

nipples through the rubber, their hard shapes forming bumps in the

smooth surface. This time they didn't even ask the questions, they just

gave her all they got, and as she distantly heard them laughing she

finally succumbed to a pink haze of pleasure.

Sharon stood in the shower and absent-mindedly soaped her body. She'd

survived her first week in the suit and she'd began to despair that

she'd spend the rest of her life in it. She'd hoped her captor would

contact her, explaining his intentions and setting his terms. After all,

why do this and then disappear. The possibility made her cringe and she

refused to consider it. But the question remained, what was his plans?

Suddenly she got angry with herself. What did she care what his plans

were? Why should she sit around waiting for his demands? She wasn't his

slave, his possession. He could go to hell for all she cared. She should

refuse to be intimidated by him. She should get on with her life. This

was the 90's, not the middle ages. A woman's body, soul and mind was her

own. The bastard had violated her and he should pay! Why even think of

him? What did he have that she wanted? Why be bothered by him? She

looked down at her shiny hard breast covered with soapy suds and her

spirits sank down to her feet. That's why. Because of the suit. His

slave? Certainly. She wasn't chained but he sure controlled her. Her

body was his, and she was beginning to wonder about her mind. Intimidate

her? She squeezed her breasts from the sides. Definitely. Anybody with

the power and money to construct this should be feared. She shivered and

tried to forget the whole thing. She concentrated on cleaning herself.

She'd discovered that a nail brush seemed to work best. Although the

bristles was to thick to penetrate the fine weave, it did make to suit

move slightly. The soapy water would penetrate under the solid sections

as she scrubbed and cleaned those parts she could get to. She was

scrubbing her sides when she happened to glance under her arms. I had

been a week since she'd shaved and yet no stubble was showing. She ran

her hands down her legs, they were smooth as well. Apparently her body

had been treated with a permanent exfoliating treatment. Well, she

couldn't say she minded, she'd considered having it done herself. She

wondered about her sex, would that be clear as well? It made sense.

After all, the small holes would soon clog up as her hair fell out.

Better to get rid of it beforehand. That would also explain the

maddening itching she'd experienced. Her first period was due to arrive

any day now and she dreaded it. What was the cramps going to be like?

The constant pressure on her waist combined with the dildo in her sex

could cause some serious problems. Could the dildo block her up,

preventing the passage of the blood? She sighed to herself. She would

cross that bridge when she came to it, there was nothing she could do

now anyway. She got out of the shower and dried herself. It took a bit

of jumping and twisting to get rid of all the water trapped under the

suit but by now she knew that she could get rid of most of it. When

she'd first realized that her suit contained pockets she'd been worried

that water would get trapped in them. After a week she'd still not

noticed any problems with water so she assumed there was a way for the

water to drain away. As she walked into the bedroom she had to

grudgingly admire the inventor of the suit. It took a lot of knowledge

and foresight to think of all the complications the female body might

pose. She noticed the tools standing in the corner and cursed. What a

waste of money that had turned out to be. She'd bought several items,

none of them worth a damn. The hacksaw had not even made a dent, after

an hour of laborious sawing all she'd had gained was a completely ruined

blade. The metal shears were useless as well, she couldn't squeeze them

closed. The worst disappointment had been the bolt cutter. It's 3 foot

handles had convinced her it would be ideal and she'd bought it eagerly.

Her excitement was shattered the moment she'd tried it on the wire, the

jaws would not close properly! The cutter had a very small tolerance

between it's teeth, but it was just enough for the wire to sit unharmed

in the gap. She'd tried to use it on some of the other surfaces, but it

was too bulky to get under the suit. With a disgusted curse she was

forced to admit defeat and fling the thing into the corner (taking a

patch of plaster as it bounced off the wall).

As she dried her hair she noticed her computer standing in the corner.

With all that was going on she'd not had chance to surf a bit and she

fired it up. It would be the ideal way to distract herself - something

she had to do or she'd go mad. The past week's nights had been torture

as the TV had been unable to capture her attention fully. Waiting for

the computer to boot she finished drying her hair and dressed in the

usual T-shirt. By the time she'd done the computer was ready and she

logged on to the net. She had several messages waiting for her, most of

it spam. She scanned through the messages, killing the spam with a quiet

little curse. A few of her friends said hi, one or two newsletters sent

her their regular updates and an old boyfriend was coming to town (four

days ago). She froze as she came to the end of the list. Somebody had

sent her two messages. The first's subject read 'The basic ground

rules'. With her heart in her throat she opened the message. It had been

sent a day after she'd first discovered the suit. The sender was

'nobody@anonymous.net'. She bit her lower lip as she read the message.

1) Do not tell anybody about the unit.

2) Do not try to contact me.

3) Follow all instructions to the letter.

4) Keep the unit clean.

5) Do not attempt to leave the city.

6) Check your e-mail daily.

No greeting, no name, nothing personal of any kind. It was the most

intimidating message she'd ever received. The second message was even

worse:

From: Nobody@anonymous.net

Subj: First instructions.

1) Go to the Post office, retrieve package.

She stared at the screen for a while. The message had been sent on

Thursday, three days ago. She'd hoped to be contacted and now she has.

It wasn't what she'd hoped for. She sat back and looked out her window.

The messages were not only bland and rude, they were arrogant. She

imagined the person sending them and shuddered as the image of a stuffy

military general sprang to mind. She leaned back in the chair and rubbed

her eyes. The messages had several implications and not all of them bad.

First was the fact that she'd been contacted. One of her greatest fears

had been that this would turn out to be a single, almost random act of

malicious madness. She could well imagine someone being sadistic enough

to do this to her and then leave her to live out a life in misery.

Although the possibility was still there, it seemed unlikely. Obviously

there was more to come. Second was that her tormentor knew exactly who

she was and what would be the best way to contact her. That canceled the

random theory. Finally there was the knowledge that someone else was

involved. Until now it had been just her and the suit, now a third

person was part of her secret. Although she'd always knew he was out

there, his message had a comforting effect. Now she could feel another's

presence, she could almost sense his touch. Her life was no longer just

about her and the suit. She cursed as she realized her body had betrayed

her again! What the hell was going on? Whenever something bad happened

she got horny! It was so bad that she could barely inspect herself in

the mirror, the mere sight of the metal and her breasts would start

throbbing! Why was her body reacting in this way? Sighing in

exasperation she launched the browser, she'd better find something to

distract her or she'd have to go through hell again.

Sharon woke early on Monday morning and started the arduous task of

preparing for work. She'd soon realized that she'd have to modify her

usual patterns in order to accommodate her new lifestyle. The most

irritating change was that she'd have to wake up half an hour earlier

than what she used to. She'd always been a notorious and chronic

over-sleeper, but with the suit she could no longer afford to rush out

of her flat in a mad flurry. Besides taking longer to do the usual

ablutions (she still wasn't completely used to the wire) she'd also need

to take greater care with her cleansing routine. Getting rid of the

water alone took her much longer than just a normal toweling. Selecting

a frilly little blouse (fuck she hated them, they looked so prim) she

quickly dressed and got ready to leave. At least she felt comfortable

enough to wear a tight pencil skirt. After all, why go through all the

aches and pains if she can't even show off her flat new stomach and thin

waist? Finally she set off, ready to face a new day.

During her lunch hour she swung by the post office. After a long search

she'd discovered the parcel's notification in a stack of unread junk

mail - tucked inside a brochure for camping goods of all things. She'd

been relatively calm about the parcel until she stood in the queue in

the post office. As she slowly neared the counter her anxiety grew. What

would it contain? What could he possibly be sending her? Would she want

it if she knew? What would happen if she refused to take it, simply

ignoring the instructions? The loud, constant thumping of a stamp on

paper was getting on her nerves. Couldn't they find a better way of

making their mark on a document than violently hitting it with rubber

stamp? Finally she reached the front, her nerves frayed to the breaking

point. A thin little man was standing behind the counter and she almost

giggled. He was the complete image of the gray bureaucrat, down to the

little bowtie and shiny oiled hair. He did not even look up as she slid

the stub under the window, his attention focused on his work. Without a

word he turned around and disappeared. She waited nervously as he

appeared a few moments later, carrying a brown parcel about the size of

a shoe box. Sliding the stub under the window he waited for her

signature before handing it over. She left the post office, carrying the

parcel as if it was a bomb.

Sharon entered her apartment and threw the keys on the kitchen counter.

Carrying the parcel she placed it on the bed and kicked off her shoes.

She'd avoided the parcel the whole day, not wanting to open it at the

office. She needed to keep her composure at work - that bastard of a

boss was still watching her like a hawk. If the parcel contained

something unpleasant he'd notice her distraction immediately. Finally

she sat down on the bed and looked the parcel over. It was neatly

wrapped in brown paper, the seams perfectly straight. The post marks

indicated that it had been sent from the large central post office in

the heart of the city. With her heart in her throat she opened the paper

wrapping and looked at the nondescript white shoebox. Finally she took a

deep breath and removed the lid.

The box contained several items, none of which she immediately

recognized. First of was a sealed plastic bag, containing some kind of

garment, neatly folded into a square. Next was a small black box with

several holes. Then there was another sealed plastic bag with what

seemed to be a jumble of wires inside. Finally there was a note.

Deciding to keep the note till last she opened the bag with the garment.

She was very surprised to see that it was a standard bathing costume,

with one small modification. All around the seams clear plastic wings

had been added. She immediately realized that the wings were meant to be

tucked in under the suit, keeping the suit covered beneath the fabric of

the costume. The costume was pitch black and fit the dimensions of her

suit exactly. The only part that was larger was the seat of the costume,

following the traditional line rather than the g-string wire of her

suit. A solid plastic zip ran up along the spine to a high collar that

closed with velcro. She realized that she could wear the costume and not

a single part of the suit would be visible. Quickly she stood up and

faced the mirror. Stepping into the open back she pulled the costume up

until it fit snugly over the suit. She tucked the clear plastic wings

under the seams of the suit and closed the collar. It took a bit of a

struggle but she finally managed to close the zipper and she looked

herself over. The effect was startling. She looked completely normal!

She pulled and tugged at the costume, but the wings held it in place.

There was no way that the suit could be revealed as the wings kept the

seams lined up. She stepped close to the mirror and marveled how natural

it looked. The small bumps on her breasts showed where her nipples would

have been and it looked completely natural. The dome between her legs

was invisible, the contours following the natural lines of her body.

Stepping back she inspected her rear as well. The zipper masked the

broad strip up her back, hiding it from view. The feeling was more

powerful than she'd expected and she realized how much she missed her

freedom. Seeing herself in a 'natural' state made her realize how much

she'd always taken it for granted. She could not stop looking at

herself! How she longed to peel the costume off her body, seeing her own

flesh and blood beneath the thin fabric. She stroked her hand down her

stomach and immediately the illusion vanished. Under the innocent black

costume was hard unyielding metal. With the spell broken she sat down

and inspected the rest of the contents. The small box was about as long

as her hand and had several small lights on top. At the one end was the

standard hole that a power cable plugged in. Several small holes lined

the one side of the box, neatly numbered from one to eight. Each number

had a corresponding little light with a ninth light at the end. Unable

to determine the purpose of the box she moved on to the next item. She

opened the bag and two items tumbled out. She immediately recognized the

power cable, it was obviously meant to plug into the box. Next was a

long, thin wire, ending in a small plastic triangle. On the inside of

the triangle was three small copper points. On the other end of the wire

was a small plug, clearly meant for one of the holes in the box. She

inspected the triangle and with a sinking feeling realized where it was

meant to go. The three copper points would fit perfectly into the three

holes at the bottom of the suit. Obviously the whole arrangement was

meant to power something inside the suit, maybe the dildo! Deciding to

be cautious she ignored the temptation to plug herself in and moved on

to the note. It was as short and rude as the e-mail.

Instructions for use: 1) Electrodes to be inserted every night without

fail. Latest 3 am. 2) Continuous electrical current to be supplied until

5 am earliest. 3) Keep all units dry at all times.

The note was typed on a normal white sheet of paper, no signature. No

mention was made of the bathing suit. No indication was given as to the

purpose of the black box. As usual the instructions supplied more

questions than answers. In exasperation Sharon stood up and walked to

the kitchen to make dinner. She decided to keep on wearing the bathing

suit, it made her feel better.

The rest of the night was spent in anxious anticipation. Over the last

week she'd slowly and laboriously regained control of her composure, and

she'd thought she had it under control. The package ruined that theory.

She was nervous and exited at the same time, not knowing what was going

to happen. The E-Mail system had supplied her with no further clues and

her imagination ran rampant. As she lay on the couch she realized that

she was again incredibly horny, her body responding to her nerves in the

most traitorous way possible. She closed her eyes and slowly slid her

hands up and down her breasts, trying to remember what it used to feel

like. Soon she was so frustrated she couldn't hold it any more and she

stormed to the bedroom. She removed the bathing suit and gathered the

other equipment. She quickly plugged the box into the wall socket and

the ninth light came on. Next she plugged the wire into the first hole.

For a few moments she stood staring at the small triangle. What she was

about to do was foolish, she had no idea what would happen. For heaven's

sake, she might be shocked to death for all she knew! Despite her

trepidation she knew she was going to go through with it, she could

already feel her sex throbbing at the prospect. Oh for the chance of

feeling that dildo move! She'd be over the edge in the blink of an eye.

With a little shudder she spread her legs and applied the little

triangle. It clicked home with a faint tick and she held her breath.

Nothing. She fiddled with the triangle - maybe it's not making contact?

Nothing. She switched the power off and on. Nothing. Finally she flung

herself backwards onto the bed, crying in frustration and disappointment

as the useless black wire snaked around her leg and into her fork.

After a few minutes she'd calmed down and had to admit that nothing was

going to happen. She sat up and stared at the thin wire. With a

disgusted oath she struggled to pull the triangle from it's holes. It

was a tight seal and it took several oaths and grunts before she could

remove it. Looking at it in revulsion she threw it into a corner. She

stormed into the kitchen and vowed never to wear the damn thing again.

She was still fuming when her stomach muscles suddenly spasmed,

frightening her to death! For about three seconds her whole abdomen had

clenched itself into a ball so tight she'd thought her muscles would

tear! The sensation had not been painful, just scary. For a panicky

moment she'd thought something had hit her in the abdomen. She barely

had time to recover when another spasm hit, this one stronger and

lasting a bit longer. It forced her to her knees and she groaned as the

air was forced out of her lungs. This time she'd felt the weird

sensation of electricity running through her muscles. When it ended she

breathed deeply to calm herself. Something inside her suit was shocking

her, pulling her muscles so tight they spasmed! Still shocked and dazed

she headed back to the bedroom, realizing that she'd not been supposed

to interrupt the power supply. She was still fiddling with the triangle

when the third shock hit her and for the first time she felt pain. When

it was over she applied the triangle and fell back on the bed, too dazed

to think clearly.