Cuffs and Collar

Maisie continued to watch herself on the mirror, with both revulsion and fascination. She felt the overwhelming need to take this suit off but there was no alternative other than nudity.

"Are you enjoying your new outfit, Ms. Williams?" came the voice, mocking her almost.

Feeling her body heat up, she looked back at the phone. "I am currently debating whether I should've stayed nude."

"I understand that you feel it uncomfortable. I've been told that many times. Believe me when I tell you that you will get used to it eventually. I've seen women who were nearly crying the first time they put on a suit, usually by the end of a month they were more accepting of it. Some even learn to love it." Maisie was thought that it sounded like the words a sexual abuser would tell their victims. "Now that you fit the dress code of your station, we must continue. Take the remaining items from the chest, Ms. Williams."

Maisie peered inside again, aside from the two bottles she saw something that made her heart sink. Like something out of a S/M nightmare, there were two pairs of cuffs, one pair larger than the other, along with a collar. Black in color, and made out of very thick rubber that appeared almost indestructible. Along the cuffs and collar, there were five small but tough looking padlocks... and no key on sight.

"You will secure them on your wrists, ankles, and neck, Ms. Williams. Confirm when you have done as instructed so we may proceed to the next step."

With trembling latex covered fingers, Maisie grabbed the cuffs, debating for just a moment what to do before relenting. She had already come this far, might as well finish so this whole charade could be explained. The British actress grabbed the two larger ones and secured them on her ankles, they looked imposing when compared to her bare, petite feet. Getting the wrist cuffs on was a little harder due to having only one hand for each, and the damn latex was slippery. She had hoped to restrain them a less tight than they were, but it appeared as though they were custom made to fit her exactly.

Finally, there was the collar. She grabbed as if it was a snake and noted that it was almost as an part of an ensamble with her suit. The place where it would lock would fit in place so the zipper to open the outfit would be impossible to access. Swallowing hard, Maisie looked herself on the mirror and placed it on herself. The padlocks made a silent clicking noise as she fitted them, but each seemed deafening to her ears with a song of doom.

The petite woman hated this. She thought at first it was only because of the gross texture and the tightness of the latex, but it was more than that. Maise had not chosen to wear this, she didn't want to wear it; the actress had been **** into wear it. It was something that had been **** to her even if she had placed it on herself willingly. The aforementioned tightness made sure Maisie never forgot what she was donning, even when she wanted to forget it, place it at the end of her thoughts, but it was useless. A constant reminder that someone else's will had been mandated upon her. She could not escape it, no matter how much she tried. The petite actress had not even been bound yet - and it was clear that it was coming - and yet she had been defeated already without putting up a fight.

She felt powerless wearing this. It screamed vulnerability with the way it exposed her body, the way it enveloped her completely, the way it hugged her like somebody was holding her at all times... the way it stimulated Maisie against her will.

The brown-haired actress looked at her reflection, with both shame and fear, then turned towards the phone "I-I'm done... I'm fucking done, alright!"