The Trap

Tara and I had been co-workers for a few months at a clothing company that specialized in latex, SM, and bondage wear. We both got the job at around the same time, although Tara would have everyone believe that she started earlier than me.

The truth is that ever since we started we have been competing with one another in all our projects. We know that the company only needs one fetish fashion designer, and i know she's doing everything in her power to retain her title.

Our superiors have tried to make us work together, even become friends, but we both know the company isn't big enough for both of us.

My story starts when our company decided to send us both to host a fashion show for some of our customers in a neighboring city.

It was Friday night and we were getting ready for the show when Tara showed up backstage bearing some bad news and a solution i hardly agreed with.

I had worked tirelessly in this collection (ever harder than Tara) and now everything was going to be ruined because one of the slavegirls got the flu and her master would not let us use her as a bondage model.

Tara's solution was simple: we needed someone to replace the missing slavegirl, which i agreed with. But who did she have in mind? None other than me!

"You can't tell me this half and hour before the collection is unveiled, Tara. I though you had the slaves already in their cell!", i complained. "And now you want ME to fill in for the missing slave?!". I was hysterical. 

"Why can't we get a local girl to fill in?", i asked.

"You know our clients. They don't like using locals. We're on our own here and we need to come up with a solution fast", she explained. "The truth is if we don't find a replacement we don't have a show. You know that!".

She was right. We were using only 2 slaves to showcase our Severe Discipline Collection. There was no way we could do this show with only one slave.

Unlike traditional fashion shows, our models could not change in and out of their outfits and equipment as easily. While one was being paraded in the runway, the other one was going to be forced into another outfit.

The truth was we needed an another slave. We had 2 amateur mistresses helping us (one to dress the slaves and the other to take them to the runway) but i was sure they were not going to accept the role of slave.

"But who's going to present the ceremony if i agree to fill in as a model?", i asked worried. I was in charge of the presentation and I couldn't risk messing up.

"Don't worry about it. I wrote part of that presentation, remember? and I've been to all your rehearsals. I can fill in for you. But as much as i want, i can't fill in for the missing slave. You're much more suited for that part", she concluded.

She was right. Tara was a lot older than me so she couldn't pass for a slave. The missing slave was a 21-year-old blonde girl, she was 5-7, and her master kept her at a demanding 105 lbs. I analyzed the situation and i came to the same conclusion: i was the only candidate to fill in for her. I had pretty much the same statistics as the missing slave. I was 22, 5-6, and a little more curves at 115 lbs.

My only objection was my lack of tolerance for pain. As the designer of the collection i knew how much more stricter this clothing line was. It had higher heels, tighter corsets, bigger gags, dildoed panties, and more restraints than our previous fetish collections. Tara and I considered our Severe Discipline Collection as severe even for seasoned slaves.

"So what do you say?", Tara asked me. "Are you willing to step in and save the company?"

I looked at her with a thousand thought running through my mind. I couldn't believe what i was about to do.

"OK. I'll do it. I'll do it... but you owe me big!", i replied.

"Thank you, Tara! You just saved both our butts!", she said. "Oh, and don't worry, I have a special treat for you after the show", she smiled and winked at me.

I did not know what she meant but being caught up in the urgency of the moment i did not care.

Since we were already backstage i accompanied Tara to the slaves's holding cell. It was a small cell where the other slave was being kept. Since she was a real-life slave she was kept gagged, handcuffed and legironed. She looked like she had a lot to complain about. Her face spoke volumes as she sat quietly waiting to be used like a doll to be dressed in our hellish fashion show.

I felt a little guilty. I knew that my designs would be used unwillingly by many such girls.

I must confess that i often fantasized about the slaves we used as models. Many nights I wondered what it would be like to be treated like them. As it turned out I was about to live my fantasy.

Tara told me that i would be treated the same in every sense of the word. She and I were the only representatives of our company and this little foul-up was going to stay as a company secret. Since i would be gagged for the duration of the show (like a regular slave) she knew i could not say anything about it.

I was ordered to strip by Tara. I complied with her and removed all my clothing and my high heels. She stood in front of me with a smile. "You know something, I've been wanting to say this for a long time", she confessed. 

"Turn around, slave", she commanded. There was a tone of victory in her voice. There was nothing i could do but comply. I turned around so she could lock my hands behind my back with a pair of handcuffs.

"I'm sure you're gonna enjoy this as much as i am", she whispered in my ear as she secured the handcuffs. "Now open up wide, slave", she ordered me. She had selected a blow-up gag. We used this type of gag only on unruly slaves. She slipped the deflated bulb and then strapped it tightly behind my head, and locked the legirons to my ankles.

"Is everything ready, Mistress Tara?", one the supporting mistresses asked Tara.

I had never met the mistresses helping us, but i figured they used the term "mistress" as a formality with Tara, after all she was the one who had dealt with them.

"Yes, this one is a little feisty", she said referring to me. "I want her head hooded when she's paraded. The gag is not to be removed. Is that understood?".

"Yes, Mistress Tara", answered the girl.

I began to worry that maybe i was surrendering too many freedoms to Tara. I struggled a little to test my bonds but they were tight. I tried to complain but she pumped the gag a few times inflating it beyond a comfortable level and silencing my complains.

"She's my personal slave and i don't want her face in any picture during the show", she told the mistresses. She pushed me into the cell and locked the door.

She had a mischievous smile. I began to worry but there was nothing i could do. I was handcuffed, legironed, gagged and naked. Something told me that Tara had planned this all along, and I had fallen into her trap!

She had graduated from a top university as a Fashion Designer and she had always been jealous that i had never attended college and yet i was at the same level as her. We even had the same salary.

Tara left to take the announcer's place in the stage and the show began. The other girl was pulled from the cell struggling and i witnessed how she was swiftly fitted with the first dress. One of the mistresses took her out by a leash and the other mistress turned her attention to me.

"Now it's your turn, pet", she said with an open smile. "Your mistress told me you'll be wearing the stricter dresses", she confessed.

I was fitted with black ballet high-heels, they were made out of leather and had 2 padlocks each so there was no way for me to remove them without the key. Next she applied a black single glove for my arms. She cinched it tight and removed the handcuffs once my upper arms were pinned against each other. Then came the corset. It was a ribbed red corset made out of leather. She strapped it tight around the waist but thankfully i could still breathe without much pain. My naked breasts were then adorned with nipple clamps. Then came the posture collar. I had designed it higher and stiffer than regular posture collars so it was impossible to look to the sides. And then to top it all came the dildoed panties. The panties had a 6-inch vibrating dildo for the pussy and a 3-inch anal plug. She made me step into the panties and slowly she pulled them up, forcing me to take both dildos in. Finally came the hood. The mouth, the eyes and the nostrils were free.

"Get used to this, bitch, the remaining dresses are far more strict", she hissed in my ear. I knew she was right. The dress i was wearing was mild compared to the other i had designed.

She clipped a leash to my posture collar and forced me out on the catwalk. I could feel the intruders in me while i tried to maintain my balance. The ballgag. The corset. The nipple clamps. Tara's burning stare and her victorious smile were all too much for me.

"Ohmygawd!, i screamed in my head. I wanted my mistress to at least turn on the vibrator, but she knew that was what i wanted so she left it off. I knew what was coming. I began wondering about the other dresses. All the electro toys, the dildos, the torturing heels. It was going to be really long night.

Epilogue.-

The show lasted 2 hours. Since Tara was the announcer she took special pleasure in describing my bonds and my outfits. She even made me do a few extra laps each time i walked just for show. After the show she took sole credit for the creations and received a standing ovation from the audience.

The other slave and i were paraded naked one last time and we also received a lot of compliments. It was Tara's brilliant designs however that won the attention of the public. Of course my head was hooded to conceal my identity. It became painfully obvious now that Tara wanted me to disappear.

The morning after the show she took me to her house, where she had built a well-equipped dungeon in the basement just for me. She locked me in a cell and told me to get comfortable. She assured me i was going to call that cell home for a long time.

She forced me to write and sign my letter of resignation and she mailed it to the company's president. Actually, she sent it to a friend in out of state and she had her friend mail it from that state, where supposedly i was now residing.

In my forced letter i cited personal reasons for my resignation and even apologized for not fulfilling my responsibilities by skipping the Severe Discipline Fashion Show. Tara told everyone that i had not shown up and she had to save the company by stepping in as the announcer. The record showed two slavegirls were present and that both slaves were collected by their respective masters after the show ended.

She sold my apartment, withdrew all my savings and effectively made me disappear from existence. I don't know if my friends and my family looked for me, but since i had keep this job a secret and i used an alias for my designs i was sure they could never link Tara to my disappearance.

I'm her pet now. Her toy. She even has me working on more fetish designs from my cell. She's taking all the credit for it again, of course, since no one knows where i am.

The company continues to provide her with prototypes of my designs and she loves making me wear my strict creations.

I have become her own slave doll. She's a mean mistress but she's unwillingly made me realize how submissive i really am. I try to push my limits whenever i design something from my cell, and I can't deny it's a turn on to think she's going to make me wear my own creation for her and her friends's entertainment.

THE END
 
 
 
 
 

12.10.04