The door was set in an alcove about halfway down a grubby little back alley. Paul Cohen supposed these places needed to be discreet. Even so, he was glad it was early in the afternoon and a bright sun—a rare sight for much of this overcast and rainy summer—was high up in the sky. He wouldn't have relished the prospect of walking down here after the sun went down.
The door was answered by a statuesque blonde and Cohen resisted the strong urge to let his jaw fall open like a trapdoor. He couldn't resist staring at her bosom. It was hard to miss. She was over six foot; he barely made five-and-a-half. That put her chest right in his eyeline and it was certainly eye-catching.
As big as your head, Cohen thought.
Her boobs were wrapped in extremely tight black latex. The material was glossy and stretched taut by her considerable chest. There was nothing covering her midriff and below the waist she was wearing nothing more than glossy black panties and fishnet stockings.
Cohen guessed that meant he had the right place then.
"I'm Paul, Paul Cohen," he said. "I think we spoke on the phone."
"So we did," the girl who advertised as Mistress Erica said.
Cohen was surprised at how good-looking she was. Her body was obviously amazing, but a lot of girls of her stature tended to look a little too masculine. Too rough. Her body was so amazing that, by rights, her face shouldn't match. Why else would she be here? But no, Cohen was wrong on that. She had the heart-shaped face and delicate features of a real beauty. Her size was the only thing not feminine about her. Everything else was front-cover glamour model. Maybe it was her size that held her back. She was tall enough to be a catwalk model but was far too curvaceous. They preferred beanpoles. Their loss.
"Come in," Mistress Erica said. Her glossy red lips turned up at the corners in a sultry smile.
Cohen got to admire more of her figure as he crossed the threshold and followed her down a bland corridor. Her outfit hid hardly anything and Cohen's heart rate quickened as he looked at the enticing swell of her ass. She looked like the over-glamorised street hooker of film fantasy, but she was right here—in the flesh—before him.
"Um, I've never done this before," Cohen confessed as Erica led him deeper into her parlour.
Mistress Erica looked back at him and smiled. "That's no problem at all."
"I have problems with anxiety," Cohen continued. "I get stressed out really easily. Too easily. A friend suggested a session with you might help."
"They did," Erica said.
"Yes," Cohen said. "They said I had problems delegating and trusting others. They thought it would be good for me to cede control to someone else in a controlled situation."
"Mmm," Erica said.
She led him through a door and into what he assumed was her dungeon. It looked more Fitness First than medieval. There were benches, stocks and other unorthodox-looking equipment, but they looked modern and had plenty of padding. There was even a wide, low bed covered in shiny black material over by the far wall. Cohen looked around and saw an impressive array of tools on the walls and in stands, ranging from the expected whips and canes to more esoteric instruments Cohen wasn't sure he wanted to know the use of.
"Um, I'm not really into the pain side of this," he said.
"No?" Erica said. She sounded disappointed.
"I don't want to go that far," he said. "I don't mind putting you in control for a session but I don't want to get hurt or be forced to do anything really disgusting."
"Hmm." Erica put a finger to her full lips and pondered. Cohen noticed she had a false nail that was jet-black in colour and tapered to a long point like a talon.
They were interrupted by the door at the far end of the room opening and another girl walking in. Like Erica she was statuesque and amply stocked in the bosom department. As with Erica, her eye-catching bosom stretched her shiny rubber top almost to bursting. As with Erica, Cohen wondered what someone with such an attractive face and sexy body was doing working in a place like this. He wondered if they were related. They looked similar apart from the newcomer being a brunette rather than a blonde like Erica.
"Oh Eunice," Erica said. "I wonder if you can help Mr Cohen here. He's come in for a session, but he's new to all this and a little apprehensive."
Cohen nodded. "I don't want to be hurt," he said.
"We could start him on a little light bondage," Eunice suggested. "Maybe some tie and tease."
That didn't sound so bad, Cohen thought.
"Oh," Eunice's eyes lit up. "Why don't we try out that new vac-bed?"
"Oh yes." Erica ran a tongue over her bee-stung lips. "What a good idea."
"Vac-bed?" Cohen queried.
"Go and get Esther to fetch it down," Erica said. "Then we can see what Mr Cohen thinks."
Eunice went away and returned with another statuesque, voluptuous beauty. Cohen's eyes boggled. He was starting to wonder if he'd stepped through the door and somehow been teleported to Silicone Valley on the other side of the world. Where else would he see so many busty beauties other than on the set of an expensive porn film?
The new girl, Esther, was pale-skinned almost to the point of alabaster. She had blue eyes, long silky platinum-blonde hair and a shy smile. She and Eunice were carrying some kind of long metal frame with glossy black latex stretched between it. Eunice also carried a squat little vacuum cleaner in her other hand. Intrigued, he watched as they laid the framework out on the floor and attached the black rubber hose that ran out from the bottom corner to the squat little vacuum cleaner.
"Strip off and in you get," Erica said to Cohen.
"Uh?" He stared at her blankly.
Eunice lifted up a black sheet. Cohen saw that the item they'd brought down looked like a sleeping bag made out of black latex and stretched across a metal frame.
"You want me to get in there?" he asked. "Is it safe?"
He didn't want to get suffocated by accident.
"We're using the open face for your first time," Eunice said. She put her arm through a circular opening in the top sheet.
"Oh, okay."
The three women watched Cohen undress with amused smiles. Cohen knew he might not be the tallest man in the world, but he hadn't done too badly when they'd been handing out dicks. The women noticed too. Erica moistened her lips and Eunice nodded approvingly as he dropped his underpants to his ankles and kicked them away. He got down and lay between the sheets. The rubber felt soft and stretchy against his skin. Eunice pulled the top sheet over him, lining up the hole with his face. She fastened the sides.
"What's this supposed to achieve," Cohen asked.
The weirdness gave him pleasant little goose bumps, but he failed to see what was special about getting inside a rubber bag.
"It's about ceding control," Erica said. "Once all the air is sucked out you won't be able to move. You'll be completely helpless and under our control."
"Ah, that's what the woman said I should do, the one who recommended I visit here. She said my anxiety stemmed from trust issues and that was causing me to pile too much work on myself. She said I needed to learn to delegate. It's tough. You can't rely on employees nowadays. It's the kids. They spend all their time on their iPads and smartphones. I have to do their work to make sure it gets done. And then I get stressed out."
Erica crouched down next to him and pushed the opening down. The rubber stretched around the sides of his face and formed a tight seal. She brought her face closer, almost as though she was shaping up to plant those full sensual lips on his in a kiss, then pulled away at the last moment.
Tease, Cohen thought.
"The normal top sheet is closed off and only has a little breathing hose for the mouth. Some people get a thrill from being blind and helpless, knowing their air could be cut off at any moment."
"But not so good with someone that suffers with anxiety," Cohen said.
"We did take that into account," Erica said.
"So I get the training wheels," he said. It felt like he was staring out through a rubber porthole.
"This model is quite popular with our other clients," Erica said.
"Gives us much better access for when they want us to smother them with our asses," Eunice said. She turned and pinched the cheek of quite possibly the finest bottom Cohen had ever seen in the flesh.
"Is there a model with another hole, lower down?" Cohen motioned with his eyes to his crotch.
"That one costs extra," Erica said.
That meant it was possible then, Cohen thought. He might enquire just how much when arranging his next session.
Eunice flicked the switch on the vacuum cleaner and the motor started up with a whine. All over his body Cohen felt the supple surface of the latex sheets brush against and wrap around his skin. He shifted into a more comfortable position as the air was drawn out of the bag and the warm sheets moulded tightly to the contours of his body. The rubber was so tight it formed a second skin pressing all across his body. It felt a little unusual—but not really the kind of thing that would have him jizzing in his pants like it probably did for some fetishists.
With Cohen firmly constrained, Erica turned a valve on the bottom of the bed and Eunice disconnected the hose from the vacuum cleaner.
"How does that feel?" Erica asked.
"Like I've been shrink-wrapped," Cohen said, which was more or less the truth.
He wriggled experimentally. The rubber gave a little, but not much.
"A quite effective form of restraint, would you agree?" Erica said.
He wriggled harder. The soft latex had formed a second skin encasing him.
