Chapter 75

Blackness. Complete and utter, suffocating blackness. In fact, even though your own intake and exhale of air was pretty much all you could hear, it truly felt for a few seconds as if you couldn't breathe at all. So absolute was the silence, so dependent as an animal you were upon your sight. If it were not for the sudden heightening of all your other senses, you might think all the rest of the world had fallen away: leaving you disorientated, small and alone.

Yet, heightened they were… to overbearing levels of nerve-tingling anticipation and indulgence. The tight, plastic material clung to every inch of you like a second skin; but one that was alien and uncompromising. It didn't envelop you in love and protection, it swallowed you and made you own and acknowledge every slight curve or movement your body made. Never before had you been so unavoidably aware of the feminised shape and form that had been made of you. An hourglass carved out as carefully as any made of ancient greek marble. The inflated, silicon balloons on your chest pushing out against a wrapping of much the same material. Plastic squeezed against plastic, with your poor, erect nipples caught between. You felt like a sausage of sensitivity and sexuality. Primed, pressed and prepped for other's consumption.

Then the hands came. You knew who they must belong to… the shop had been empty of anyone else. Yet in your void of sight and sound, they could be the prods and caresses of any unknown being. The ghostly touch of those things which dwelt outside all space and time; ever coldly curious about these creatures which would prostrate themselves for the slightest hint of pleasure. Out of simple defensive reflex, you flinched a little with every new touch, though the restriction of the outfit barely allowed even that small movement. All you could do was try and guess the owner of each sensation: The confident squeeze straight upon your bottom that could only be the Mayor's daughter. The gentle, tentative caress that would be Terry trying to reassure you… and a trace of curious, inquisitive fingers that spoke of the newcomer Emily.

One hand made its way unabashedly up your inner thigh, reaching that last vestigial bulge of your manhood. The tightness of the catsuit left very little room for reaction from those vacuum-packed stalk and cherries, but the sudden touch caused a throbbing ache. An ancestral memory perhaps: that once you might have been a boy. The hand moved on from there though, as most did these days, up along the tingling crest and valley of your perineum. There it took hold of a zipper, you could feel the cold metal of its fastening. A flap was pulled open and cold air rushed in, awakening your puckered star with blinking exposure. You were used, by now, to strangers taking a more than intimate interest into that portal of your anatomy. Though somehow it made you squirm internally all over again, to know that someone was looking squarely at that eye while you could see or hear nothing of them. For several years now you had lived as little more than a collection of warm holes for others to take advantage of… here was just a condensing of that experience moment by moment.

SMACK! The hand came down hard upon your exposed asscheek; the sudden, stinging blow catching you completely by surprise. SMACK! Again it came, this time upon the other side. With no senses left to offer hint or warning, each spank came utterly out of the blue. You could feel sharp breaths leaving your lips in what must have been gasping cries, but not even your own sounds could reach you.

Now a finger slipped inside your rectum, quite calmly, quite casually. Sending the usual shivers up your spine. Whoever it was, was not invading you out of any particular interest in bringing you pleasure. They were simply doing it because they could. Because you were perched, blind and deaf on the counter of a public shop with your asshole hanging out for all to see. Yet, for you, that only made it more stimulating. The genderbent, submissive nymphomaniac that you had become or always been, could not help but push back and offer up that opened rear for deeper penetration. Sometimes it still made you a little sick, in the back of your throat… to recognise what your own body was doing. But you could not stop. Could not turn away. For your heart and soul and mind all knew that this was really all they yearned for. To be treated like a toy by anyone who’d care to make claim to you.