Chapter III
Sharon killed the alarm clock's insistent bleeping and sighed. She rolled over
on to her back and rubbed her eyes to wake up completely. She'd had a restless
night and her sleep had never reached the depths necessary to dream. She
groaned as two problems immediately presented themselves. First she had a
maddening itch all over her sex, and second she had to take a dump. She rolled
out of bed and stepped into the bathroom, trying her best to ignore the itch.
She seated herself on the toilet and concentrated. After a while the urine
started flowing and she relaxed, enjoying the simple pleasure of urinating.
Soon she was empty and she waited patiently for the next part. She could feel
the waste inside her, ready to come out. The problem was the wire over her
anus. Her sphincter was clenched closed tightly, unwilling to relax. Sharon
tried to squeeze, but that hurt so she just sat there. She leaned back against
the toilet, closed her eyes and tried to relax the muscle. The pressure was
slowly building and she knew sooner or later it would happen, there could be no
other way. The itching around her sex was slowly getting worse and it took all
of her willpower not to try and scratch it. Quite unexpectedly the feces started
to emerge and again she sighed in relief. She realized that her mind needed to
be distracted for mother nature to take it's course. Patiently she waited until
she'd done and she stood up. She could not avoid a curious glance into the
toilet. As she had expected each chunk was neatly split in half by the wire.
She cleaned herself and inspected the bottom of the suit with a small mirror.
She had to be very careful not to have any of the feces slip in un- der the
suit, if it reached her sex it could have disastrous medical consequences. She
was happy to see that the wire only flared into a plate once it was well
removed from her anus. Her suit differed from conventional chastity belts in
that it prevented rear entry into the sex with the stem of the dildo, rather
than a plate. Satisfied that she was clean she stepped into the shower to clean
the rest of her body.
Sharon stood at her front door and took a deep breath. She opened the door and
peeked down the hall. She could not see anybody and the breath in her lungs
came out in a deep sigh of relief. She straightened her back (figuratively),
gathered her courage and stepped through the door. Trying to act as normal as
she could she locked the door and walked down the passage. Rounding the corner
at the end of the passage she saw two young men standing at the elevator. All
her courage disappeared and she almost fled back to her apartment. Pausing for
a moment she waited for her heartbeat to settle. When she was finally calm
enough she took a few steps forward and stood in the corner of the foyer. Both
men had noticed her approach and as she stood looking at her feet she could hear
them softly whisper to each other. She blushed deeply as she imagined them
discussing her figure and again she almost fled. Instead she stood quietly,
longing for the elevator to ar- rive. Her clothes were all wrong, but she had
little choice in the matter. She was dressed in a brown knitted bodysuit with
long sleeves and high turtleneck. With the bodysuit she wore a flowing gray
skirt and pantyhose. On her feet she wore dark brown pumps with modest 3 inch
heels. The bodysuit was tight and the knitted fabric stretched over her fig-
ure, revealing every curve. She'd wanted to wear a dress but none of her dresses
would cover her chest and neck. She'd thought of combining a dress with the
bodysuit, but be- sides looking strange it would also be way too hot. It was
going to be a warm day and she could already feel her body growing hot under
the knitted wool and metal. She cursed her boss again, he had refused to give
her a few days off. She'd claimed that she was sick but he had insisted on a
doctor's note. He was clearly not happy that she'd taken Friday off without
telling anybody. As she stood waiting, her mind started playing tricks on her.
She grew convinced the men were discussing her suit. They must be able to see
it, after all it was just below the surface of the bodysuit. Maybe there was a
seam or ridge that she'd not noticed. She glanced up at the men and caught
sight of them both staring intently at her breasts. She blushed even deeper and
started moving back to the passage when the elevator arrived. As the doors
opened she saw that it was almost full and her courage failed. There was no way
she would be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with the other people. She
could hear the surprised remarks as she fled through the nearest door. It took
her to the stairs and by the time she had regained control of herself she had
rushed down two flights. She stopped and leaned against one of the walls,
taking deep breaths of air. Finally she felt calmer and she walked down the
stairs at a normal rate. She had another 14 flights of stairs to go and as she
walked her mind began to wander.
It took her six more flights before she realized that she was growing seriously
horny. She stopped for a moment and looked around. Certain that she was alone
she lifted the skirt and felt between her legs. Already the stretched fabric of
the bodysuit was damp, and she blushed at the thought of walking around with
her juices flowing. She realized that the mere presence of the dildo was
keeping her excited, whether she noticed it or not. It was actually surprising
that she could even walk normally with her stuffed sex, but then it was a very
thin dildo. When she'd worn her own dildos she had a tendency to roll her hips
or waddle like a duck. With the assistance of the strip down her spine and
restriction around her waist her posture had actually been very good. On flat
ground she could walk quite normally, however the steps had forced her hips to
roll, causing a small amount of friction. For a while she wondered what she
would do. In order to go back to the flat she would have to use the elevator.
She was already so late that climbing the stairs back up would be disastrous.
She was still trying to gather the courage when she realized that her finger
had slipped in between the damp bodysuit and slippery dome. She withdrew her
hand in angry disgust and continued down the steps. What was it with her! She
felt like a nym- phomaniac, unable to resist touching herself every five
minutes! Clenching her hands be- hind her back she continued down the stairs.
For now the sanitary pads in her car would have to solve the problem of the
damp.
Sharon finally reached the underground parking level and she sighed in relief as
she walked on the flat concrete floor. As people and cars moved about the large
open space she kept her head down and walked straight to her car. She got in
and leaned back in re- lief. The car created the illusion of isolation and she
closed her eyes for a moment. Her sex was throbbing, both from the stairs and
the itching. She could also feel that a small amount of chafing between her
thighs was going to be inevitable. Already the skin right next to the dome was
getting inflamed. She again made sure nobody was watching and pulled her skirt
up. She released the clips of the bodysuit and stuck a sanitary pad over the
holes. Re-fastening the clips she straightened her skirt and applied some
deodorant for good measure. Before she could set off she had to adjust her
driving position, raising the back of the chair to compensate for her spine's
straight back. She set off into traffic, her nipples throbbing mercilessly from
all the activity.
Morning traffic was always heavy and she made her way slowly down the streets of
the city. A few blocks from her office building she came to a stop behind a
police cruiser. With a start she realized that she'd not even considered going
to the police. Why was that? Had she been robbed or assaulted it would have
been her first stop, why not now? The traffic moved on and she had to
concentrate on her driving so she dropped the issue for now. Reaching her
destination she parked and started walking to the office. She worked as a
junior accounts manager for a large accounting firm. As she neared the office
her trepida- tion grew. How was she going to spend the day in the close company
of other people? Her stunt at the flat had already proven that she was in no
position to deal with people, she was still to ashamed and afraid. Standing
outside her building she pretended to rum- mage through some papers as she
debated with herself. She could leave now, go home and claim she was to sick to
come in, no matter what the boss said. After all he couldn't fire her for
taking a few days, could he? She should quit anyway, any boss that acted like
he did was just trouble. Get herself a nice new job, maybe working from home?
Sharon scolded herself for being so weak. She'd always been a strong woman, not
standing back for anyone. Just because she was wearing a strange garment did
not mean anything should change. She was still the old Sharon, no piece of
shiny metal would change that! How were they going to know anyway. Today she'd
go to the cops and they'd be able to help her. For now she had to act as if
nothing was wrong. Flinging her hair in defiance she stepped through the
revolving glass door. As soon as she entered the building her cour- age fled.
The place was packed and she could feel people jostling and pushing her to-
wards the elevators. She tried to get out but was swept up in the stream of
humanity. Fi- nally she ended up in a large crowd waiting for the elevators.
Clenching her jaws she willed her legs to stop quivering and stood staring at
the floor. She'd simply wait until the next elevator and quietly slip to one
side. As she stood she prayed nobody would acci- dently touch her body. The lift
arrived and she prepared to make her move. The crowd started pushing forward
and she quietly slipped to one side. She was about to walk away when she heard
her name called. She turned around and almost fainted as a spotty young man
stood inside the elevator, holding a space for her. His name was Mark and he had
a terrible crush on her. Realizing everybody was waiting for her she tried to
think of an ex- cuse but none came to mind. Cursing Mark she stepped into the
elevator and quietly turned around. As she stood staring at the door she could
feel Mark's eyes on her. "You look nice today" he said and immediately blushed
a deep shade of red. "Thank you." she said tersely, cursing the little twerp in
her heart. She was intensely aware of the other bodies around her and she
longed to get off the elevator. The blasted thing stopped on virtually every
floor and each time she had to quickly step out to prevent the departing
passengers touching her. She was all elbows and hands, trying to keep a bigger
personal space around her. Finally she reached her floor and she sighed in
relief as she got of. "See you around." said Mark as the elevator doors closed.
The little bastard would proba- bly go through the whole day in a daze just
because he'd spoken to her. Her old spunk had returned and she set off for her
office.
Sharon leaned back and rubbed her tired eyes. Immediately she became aware of
the itching over her sex. Groaning she tried to return to her work, but she was
just too tired. She'd been working full-blast for the whole day, her eyes
straining as she stared at the computer screen. She'd discovered that the work
could distract her enough to forget the itching but as soon as she took a break
she'd be reminded of it. It had definitely grown worse since the morning and
she dreaded having to go back to her lonely apartment where she'd have nothing
to keep her attention focused. She glanced at her watch and was very surprised
to see that it was past 7 p.m. She packed up her stuff and left the of- fice.
Standing in the lift she thought back over the day's events. It had started with
a very unpleasant conversation with her boss. The man had accused her of
slacking off and do- ing what she liked. She fumed as she thought back to the
argument. The bastard had had it in for her ever since she'd ignored his
advances. He was a egotistical pig that still be- lieved women didn't belong in
the work place. She could not believe that such people still existed, and here
she worked for one! The rest of the day had been fairly routine. She'd had some
conversations, drank some coffee, worked and had lunch. Within the first hour
she'd relaxed and been able to function normally. During her lunch hour she'd
gone out and bought virtually a complete new wardrobe. It was mostly blouses,
all of them with tight little collars. She had groaned at the selection, these
kinds of clothes she'd always asso- ciated with prim little librarians, now
she'd be forced to wear them as well. She'd bought a few bodysuits as well, but
she still felt uncomfortable with such tight-fitting garments and she doubted
she'd wear any of them soon. Finally she'd bought a dress, the only one in the
store that would suit her needs. She'd been forced to try a fitting as she was
no longer sure of her collar size, and there had been a tense moment when one
of the sales ladies had stood outside the cubicle, inquiring if she'd like some
assistance. She'd had to really concentrate to keep the quiver out of her voice
as she declined the offer, a thin curtain separating her from discovery. It was
only back at the office that she'd thought of the se- curity cameras and her
legs had turned to Jell-O. Out there might be a stranger that knew her secret
and as she walked through the lobby she was still very distressed by the idea.
She quickly made her way to her car and got in. During the day she'd twice
gotten very close to calling the police and every time she'd backed off. Her
rational mind had thrown several good reasons at her for not phoning the
police. Firstly she doubted she could go through the ordeal of baring her body
to a stranger. Just the thought made her shiver. Secondly had been the suit's
creator. Surely he had to know that was what she'd do. Somehow he'd prevent her
from going through with it. After all, he'd planned everything else to
perfection. Thirdly she was not yet convinced she couldn't remove it herself.
She'd intended buying some tools after work, but obviously it was now too late
for that. She'd have to do it tomorrow. There was a fourth and final reason as
well, but she refused to even admit it to herself. On her way home she passed a
pharmacy and she pulled over. Approaching the counter she explained that she
had an IUD and that the contractions had started again. The pharmacist
explained that he could not give her the regular medicine as she needed a
prescription, but he could provide a weaker alternative. The medicine he gave
her was for night pains and he felt certain that it would do the job. She also
claimed to have acquired a rash from hiking and wanted to know if he could
recommend some- thing. He gave her a salve and explained that it was a mild
anesthetic. She also bought some more sanitary pads and disinfectant for her
shoulder. Finally she happened to see some sleeping pills and took those as
well. Well stocked up she set of for home.
Sharon lay back in the bath and soaked. The warm water seemed to relieve some of
the itching, though she could not be completely rid of it. All in all her
second day in the suit had gone well. She'd been happy to discover that the
wound on her shoulder seemed to be healing without complications. If she cared
for it properly it would be gone within a week. The itching did worry her
though. She was worried that it was not going away. Would every itch she had be
so insistent? She was actually surprised that the rest of her body seemed not
to itch. The cast she'd worn had been torture and she'd expected the suit to be
the same. Maybe it was because most her skin could breathe that she didn't itch
so much. Her lower back and stomach ached from the constant pressure, but she
felt certain that she'd get used to it within a day or two. She was even
becoming used to the dildo. Although she could still feel it, the sensation had
shifted from constant pressure to a dull reminder. She was confident that soon
she'd not even notice that any more. Her big- gest problem at this stage was
keeping control of her mind rather than her body. As soon as she let her guard
down she'd start fantasizing and she'd get horny again. She'd always had an
active imagination and it was very difficult for her to control it. Of course
she'd not always been thinking of sex, but now her body was constantly
reminding her of it. Where she used to fantasize about clothes or money or
adventure she now found herself con- stantly fantasizing about sex. Her mind was
being bombarded by subtle queues, the glint of metal in the mirror, the
pressure of the suit around her waist and of course the constant throbbing in
her sex.
She climbed out of the bath and quickly toweled herself dry. As soon as the warm
water drained from the suit the itching returned and she groaned in
frustration. As she dried her hair she tried to think of a way to alleviating
the irritation but none presented itself. She applied some medication to the
wound on her shoulder and prepared to see to the rash as well. She sat staring
at the tube of salve when she had an idea. Returning to the bathroom she mixed
some salve with warm water and dropped a few drops onto her stomach. It seeped
into the gauze and ran down her stomach. She could not make a gap between her
skin and the suit - it was much too tight for that - but she was convinced she
could wriggle and twist until some of the liquid found it's way under the
panty. It was slow, exhausting work. She'd apply a little fluid and then twist
and turn until it had penetrated. She repeated the steps so many times she lost
count but after a while she could detect a big improve- ment. Satisfied that
that was the best she could hope for she returned to her bedroom and applied
some salve to he inner thighs. She was exhausted by the previous night's lack of
sleep and she got ready for bed. Just to make sure she took two of the sleeping
pills as well and crawled in under the covers. She had just enough time to
marvel at the weird sensation of the suit holding her in it's firm embrace
before sleep took her.
