A Time Between Worries

A time between worries

Hello everyone. It's been a while since I've written something. Even this thing took me months to finish (damm procrastination). English is not my first language so I would welcome any comment highlighting my errors. By way, I should mention TRIGGER WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS ELEMENTS OF NON-CONSENSUAL SEX SCENES. If you are troubled by them, please be careful. I'll leave a note where it starts.

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9:33 p.m.

Jessica stared at her clock fiercely, hoping in vain for time to flow faster. It had been an eventful week and there was yet more to come. Finding herself juggling the never-ending calls from the office and the incessant screams from her children at home, she felt the ever growing anxieties building up inside of her that she may as well have had an ulcer. Her husband, Tom, was not of much help when he arrives home depleted of energy, sluggishing his way to play his role as the family man. The most they've interacted in private recently has been a struggle to hold onto their own side of the blanket. She had enough of that.

9:34 p.m.

Looking for some fine material to release stress for a brief moment, Jessica discovered a website that might've been the answer she had been looking for. "Absolute anonymity", it said. "Never in the same address. Take the once-in-a-life chance to delve into the greatest pleasures you can imagine. Your secret is safe with us". Browsing greedily through the website, she became somewhat fascinated by the level of security these people had just for what she thought was an ordinary orgy. The packages they offered seemed somewhat decent and affordable for her savings (despite their ludicrous prices). Once she got around their distorted forms and payment system, she got her invitation to the nearest event in town: "Follow the instructions to the letter or else your entrance shall be forbidden. Arrive at ___ St #___ at 9:30 pm alone. Wait in front of the entrance until further notice. Approximate response time:"...

9:35 p.m.

Just when the clock struck the appointed hour, a muffled monotone voice came from the intercom. Taken by surprise, Jessica missed the first call, and stood still, waiting for another chance to answer.

--Moniker? -asked the voice nonchalantly for a second time.

--Cherry Pie --replied Jessica.

--Please, type your passcode on the keyboard.

From memory she pushes the 12 digits on the panel, wasting no time for errors. She needed to get the deal done.

--Access granted. Enter the designated dressing room and make yourself presentable -just as the voice finished its message, the entrance door opened in front of her.

Walking down the dimly lit hallway, Jessica managed to find the ever growing line of doors that went to the private dressing rooms. Number 7: that's what the invitation said where to enter. After closing the wooden door behind her, she had a chance to take a good look at her one night coatroom. Nothing she hadn't already seen on the site's pictures: it was a small 7 by 7 feet room, with a heavy metallic door standing in front of the one made out of wood. On her right side, there was a functional bathtub, equipped with generic hygiene products and a couple of polyester towels stacked next to it. On her left side, a large full body mirror stood right next to a bright red leather sofa, and a bedside table over an open safe. On top of the table, she found two small packages: one containing a birth control pill, which she swiftly took as she first glanced at it (better safe than sorry); and a half-a-gram capsule with a note that said "For our new clients". She decided to decline the gift and move on.

Resting on the middle of the sofa, a mass of folded rubber waited eagerly for her night companion. Jessica unraveled the shining material on the furniture to let it reveal its jet black figure: a one-piece latex condom suit from neck to ankles. As she took off her clothes, she couldn't help but examine with scrutiny what had become of her for the last seven years. Long gone was the youthful figure, full of unlimited energy and expectation for tomorrow; in its place were the remains of a brunette woman, eroded by an exhaustively trivial routine, and filled to the brim with sour frustration. Since her second pregnancy, Jessica's body had only given her disappointment after disappointment, no matter how much she could do between work and home. When the last of her clothes came off, her reflection was in full display on the mirror, giving her a better look at those saggy breasts and varicose veins that she tries everyday to hide from the world. One look was enough to overcome any doubts she had on wearing the rubber skin.

After closing the zipper up to the back of her neck, Jessica stepped back from the mirror to inspect her progress. The shiny material hugged her figure in a way that her silhouette resembled something more acceptable for her: while there were some waist pleats poking out, her belly had noticeably shrunken a few sizes; her breasts placed perfectly in their place, giving them the form of firm C-cups, giggling to have some fun for the night. Not to mention that amidst that dark female shape filled in mystery, down in her crotch area were two red orifices attached to the suit, with long rubber condoms extending to her vagina and ass, inviting anyone to take her and make her feel as a woman again.

As she was looking for wrinkles on the suit, she realized there were more garments to use if she wanted to enter: a couple of latex gloves, finger socks, tall stilettos, a small bracelet, and a latex hood. This last one had little orifices where the eyes should be, and a seductive red rubber mouth, shaped as if it were a real mouth with lips and teeth but with a rubber condom inside of it. The image of that snake sliding down her throat made Jessica quiver and quit. No matter how much she had paid, she couldn't justify herself going that far just to fuck.

Amidst of her late burden of consciousness, Jessica noticed between the various props she was given, there was one in particular that she had overlooked: a black leather choker with a polished metal name tag attached to it saying "CHERRY PIE". Cherry Pie, she could hardly remember when was the last time Tom had called her that way, less if he said it with some emotion. She clearly remembers when he started calling her that way because of some song that was airing on the radio when they were dating. On and out of bed, there was no day without him calling her Cherry Pie. As time went on, It became a rarity when he referred to her that way, but she didn't care as long as they were together. Then the kids and the rotative schedules came and they rarely had more than an hour alone for themselves. There was "Jessica. Jessica!" for many years in the living room. Then it was "Jess. Hey Jess!" for many months. For the past two weeks, the only way Tom was addressing her were some tired grunts and sometimes the indifferent "You" when he asked for anything.

Jessica stood in the middle of the room, caressing the metallic plate engraved with the memories of a silver past as she recalled the path that led her to the corroded present that lies behind the wooden door. She glanced with disgust at the entrance door and looked over the heavy metallic door, being sure of its capacity to prevent any memory from leaking in or out of that place. She went back to the nightstand and took the gift capsule in a fell swoop, and swallowed with no guilt over her. She then proceeded to get herself ready.

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As a heavy thump echoed through the dimly lit hallway, a dark figure made its first steps into this transition space to a foreign world of debauchery. The clack of her heels announced her presence to any other visitor on the almost infinite void, attracting numerous glances from beings alien in appearance but still alike on their primitive instincts. Approaching the entrance with a sensual walk, the masked guardian of the gate was now in the presence of a faceless latex clad living doll, whose nearly stiff ribbon red lips and jiggling breasts were close to entice the muscle bound man to throw her to the ground and have a savage coupling in front of the waiting attendees (but alas, he was bound to only feast with his sight).

Examining tip to toe the almost firm curves of that latex doll, the man's eyes layed down on the name tag of her collar and read to himself the mold inscription: CHERRY PIE.

--Bracelet --said the guard trying to regain his composure.

The doll complied and extended her left arm to the man. He took out a gadget that activated the bracelet, displaying a countdown on its small screen.

--Two hours. You may come in.

Just as the man finished his sentence, the living doll went through the curtains to a world she was eager to live in.

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As she was getting used to breathing under the tight black latex mask, Jessica ran out of breath as she submerged herself in a brave new world. What she thought was just a setting for a cheap smut novel or a teenage fantasy surrounded her in a stagnant air charged with lust. The neon blues and reds erupted from every corner of the main stage, flowing across the darkness that permeated the atmosphere. While up in the ceiling hung dancers both in cages and silk streams, on the dancefloor dozens and dozens of hedonists moved to the rhythm of the synthetic melody rumbling through everyone's bones. In that incessant sea of bodies, she saw how men and women alike, protected by the same veil of anonymity she had to pay, chase one another on sensual outfits just to scratch the other's itch. Cherry Pie had 1 hour and 59 minutes left of life, and she was determined to satiate her thirst.

With the grace of a black swan, Cherry submerged herself into the perpetually writhing mass, furrowing between the bodies filled with ecstasy without a path. In the middle of the crowd, she came across angels, demons, vicars, nuns, nurses, pin-ups, doctors, butchers, doms, subs, and more, ranging from the timid young newbies to the older bold veterans. Despite the entirety of the guest wearing masks, some of them here and there weren't afraid to show some skin that, even below this dastarling lighting, revealed an ethic melting pot with one objective for the night: fuck. On the outskirts of the crowd, among the many variations of gimps laying around, stood a petite redhead in a white dress, turning a timid glance at her. Jessica tried to make something out of that moment, but nevertheless the ghostly figure lost itself among the black mass. As the heat began to rise under her latex skin, Cherry saw herself courted by a well built businessman with a heavy rubber gimp mask.

--Hey, babe! --the man shouted, struggling to get his words across both physical and sonorous barriers --. Would you mind a dance Ms... Cherry Pie?

Instinctively, Jessica tried to respond with a "Thanks but-", nevertheless, Cherry Pie's tongue holds back her host's words down her throat, and accepts the invitation for both of them, extending their arm while giving an alluring nod. With each music beat drowning the thoughts of Jessica, they both felt how a warm feeling was rising just below their abdomen, just as they began to notice the movements of the rest of the people become as slow as if the rest of the world were underwater. "Was that because of the capsule?" Jessica though, before the man made them a proposition.

--What do you say if we get to know a little closer?-- said the man within their earshot with a rather delicate voice, to which Cherry complied by following him.

Before she knew it, Cherry layed on top of the gentleman at the exterior ring of the dance floor, forming a new batch of groups beginning to make out in public. As both of them were filled with many long french kisses, both of their hands traveled across the other's body, caressing the curves, the muscles, the things, the groins, and their faces, trying to decipher what lies encased under the thin latex layer. Cherry could feel a mass growing beneath her pelvis, so she brought her hand to the man's pants and opened them up, revealing his fully erect manhood. She wasted no time and guided the man's member to the condom hole for her vagina. As she lowered down, Jessica let out a faint moan muffled by Cherry's rubber mouth, wondering when was the last time she had a proper sexual encounter. That didn't matter. What mattered was that she had a big cock inside her and she wasn't going to let it go to waste. She pumped up and down, still on top of the man, letting the dick as in as possible, trying to reach her magic point. The man on the other hand, had another plan, grabbing her by her ass and shaking her faster than she was already going. Cherry took it by surprise but she went along with him synchronizing his thrusts, leaving no second in between to process each push. During this process she opened her eyes, the color of the light melded together along with the dark spaces between the spots of her mask, moving along the ecstasy she was building up. Various moans escaped the rubber mouth, as she was getting ready to break. But suddenly, there was a final push, accompanied with a long groan as she could feel the remaining space in the condom filling up with a warm liquid feeling.

--That was good. Nice job --he said as he gave her a little spank.

While he seemed to be done, Cherry was still horny and needed some relief. She tried to start again but the man pushed her aside, leaving her hole open and dripping his load.

--Tell you what. I'll be meeting with some friends in like half an hour. If you want to try something else, you can meet us in the VIP area. I'll let them know you're going. In the meantime, try to have some fun. Alright?

Cherry nodded, still frantic and on the edge.

--Good. See ya.

Cherry took a look at her bracelet and let out a heavy groan: 1:43:08. She got up and went her way.

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Walking around the place, she just noticed that this place had different floors and rooms to which one can access at their leisure. Except of course the VIP, she thought. As she looked around, she came across a variety of deviances in full display, such as whipping cracking at bare backs, chained needles inserted into the skin, torture devices used for pleasure, people strung and walking on fours, and more. As she looked at everyone, she could only wonder if they were fit for a good shag; as good as her recent encounter was, Cherry wanted to make every second worth its price.

One of the rooms in particular, whether because of the thick aphrodisiac musk it emanated or the cacophony of the sirens' calls, caught both of their interest. When she took a peek inside, Jessica was staggered at the sight, while Cherry's mouth drooled in anticipation. In the padded room involved with a pink mystic fog, laying on top of soft feathered furniture, were half a dozen women feeling each other off. They were not afraid to show their skin, but nevertheless wore masks, revealing lingerie, and bondage harnesses that accentuated their titillating figures. And at the centerpiece of the sapphic play, was a slim corset-wearing black woman, balancing her tender caresses between two girls on bed: one sucking her pierced nipple, the other licking her mistress's thumb. Cherry stood long enough at the entrance for the ebony lover to notice her presence.

--Do you like what you see, doll? --asked the woman while fondling her servant's face. Her voice asserted dominance, yet it felt comfortable and alluring--. There is nothing to be afraid of; here we are nothing but echoes of past desires. Whatever thing the meatbag beneath that dark figure thinks is attracted to doesn't mean a thing here and now. Not unlike the daylily, we exist in the blink of an eye --she spread her legs as she spoke --, blossoming one morning, and perishing till dusk. In the time we have in between, we have to make the best of it. Let them see its rare beauty. Let them feel its soft petals. Let them pollinate as much as they want.

Mesmerized by the woman's speech, Cherry Pie took a look down and found herself unable to resist anymore. She got down on all fours, slithering her way across the sea of nymphs, her eyes fixed to the clean-shaved crotch of the headmistress. But what enchanted her the most was the bright red pussy gaping in and out, with its dark outer labia and clitoris enveloping it similar to a precious flower; and Cherry Pie craved to savour that exotic fragrance.

--Come closer, doll. I don't bite-- the words resonated within Cherry as the woman got her concubines off her with a push --. Closer -- she heard again, only this time she was sure that word was muttered by the mistress's cunt.

Leaning on the foot of the bed, Cherry's black latex hands examined the terrain in front of her. Each one of the hands started at one foot, sliding their way through the firm ebony skin of her calves, extending her fingers to caress her soft thighs, ending their journey on mistress's belly, concealed by a tight black leather corset, just above the red blooming flower she desires to savor. As the drooling rubber mouth approached the nether lips, the woman's slender hand stopped her in her tracks, took Cherry by the chin and lifted her face up to hers. It was just at that moment that she took a proper look at that face that, despite being covered by a heavy rubber eye mask, showed a fine and severe countenance, with a pair of eyes filled with insatiable lust, and a curly updo hairstyle that served as a crown.

--Is that how men approach you? Because, within my circles, we prefer to take our time getting into the vibe --the mistress said as she exposed her neck to her new plaything, displaying her choker with her own name: "Sherezade."

Cherry Pie understood her mistress's intentions, and she leaned into Sherezade's long neck, kissing and liking every pore as possible. While her mouth was busy tasting the essence of the very first woman she ever approached, her right hand took consciousness for itself and decided to grope the muse's breast, fondling around her nipple and giving a pinch here and there. Sherezade did not object to these acts, as she was enjoying them as much as the perpetrator of such. With a hand signal, a couple of the other girls approached Cherry from her sides and started to stimulate her the same way she was grooming her mistress.

--Good doll --said Sherezade as she took Cherry's hand and put her over her pussy--. Now treat her as if she were yours. Go back to that night the pressure wedged in your shoulders, and the only way out was right below you.

Cherry Pie obeyed. She started drawing small circles around the dark labia, slow and steady, getting closer and closer with each revolution. She stopped at the top and with her two fingers played with the clit, moving it carefully from one side to the other. And as two snakes entering a bush, her middle and index finger got inside the vulva, inspecting each of its sensitive folds as they sunk deeper and deeper into the hole; at the same time she could feel the same movements applied to both her pussy and, for the first time, her asshole. What began as weak whimpers turned into paused moans as Cherry rubbed in and out her fingers faster and faster, trying to reach as deep as she could with her own fingers. On her side, Cherry's ecstasy was noticeable in spite of the mask that muffled the real volume of her haywire senses. Suddenly a hand took Cherry's wrist by surprise, making her look up to her mistress.

--Now --Sherezade said as she shoved Cherry's face into her crotch--, give me a good fuck with that tongue!

As incredible that order seemed to Cherry Pie, there was some much a rubber tongue could elongate. She could feel some kind of appendages staying put near her holes, but she didn't have time for that. She tried to suck on Sherezade's clit to compensate for her disability, but mistress was out of patience.