Trample in High Heels and Latex
The Club is full. People are crammed into every corner. The music is loud. To be heard you must shout above the din, and if you get a reply you can only catch every second word – guessing the rest and simply nodding when you can’t guess. The entire place seems to be a swirling mass of humanity; some happy and shouting, some drunk or high, some just sitting by the walls watching, some lost in their own worlds. A nightclub, but a nightclub with a difference. Full Picture Set HERE
You are wearing a polished black latex outfit. It darkly reflects all that is around you. The hour spent polishing it was worthwhile. The latex clings tightly to every curve of your figure, not so much clothing you as presenting you – little can be seen of your skin, but nothing is hidden. It is a cat suit, hugging your body in its tight restrictive embrace. The long legs of the suit reach down to your ankles where they are meet by black shiny boots with four-inch stiletto heels. The arms reach down to your wrists where they meet more latex, black gloves go back over the suit to your elbow. The suit finishes with a tall collar that is fastened snuggly around your neck. The collar is stiff and keeps your neck long and straight. A single steel ring is embedded into the collar at your throat. At the back of the suit, stretching from beneath the collar, down your back, and between your legs is a black steel zipper. Only two zippers placed over the tight bulges of your breasts break the smooth curves of the front of the suit. Your hands are loosely cuffed behind your back. A leash is attached to the steel ring of your collar; it leads from you to me. Full Picture Set HERE or read the rest of the story Read more…
