The shop owner told her to wait while he retrieved the latex boots she ordered.
*Please do not touch anything.* He said before going.
Despite his warning, Caroll could not take her eyes of the amazing suit hanging right next to her.
She resisted the temptation and waited for about 10 minutes. But her patience grew heavy.
*Have you found my boots yet?*
No response. She took another look at the suit. The zipper, open, left the shiny interior exposed. It felt like it was begging to be used. A suit of this quality would be very expensive, she tough. She might never have such an opportunity again.
*Hello !!!* Still no response.
*Oh... What
Liz awoke to find herself sitting in a chair, stripped naked. The room she found herself in did not have much furniture. There was only a desk in front of her, another chair beyond that, and to her right, a table. The walls were all painted white, and she couldn’t tell where the door was, or even if the room had any doors.
Having been sedated only minutes before, she could hardly remember why she was here. She could remember parts of what happened, but not too much. She had been with Elena, in her own personal cell behind her mistress’s office. The police had busted in, waving their guns around. Then they took her. That was all sh
Daisha always had a thing for tight places. She loved hide and seek as a kid, trying to find the most improbable spots. She would hide in the laundry hamper, or in a shelf of the hall closet, or the one time she squished into the oven. To say she did not know the meaning of claustrophobia would be an understatement.
Her choices in life did not model this love, so she worked around it. She works at a typical office building as an actuary (she finds it funny to hear people put “tight spaces” as part of their risk management). As a “professional yet functioning” goth, she wears a corset under her normal, loose-fitting bl