Like most of my stories, this is meant only as fantasy. You shouldn't try anything here.
However, I wanted to add an extra note because this has lots of breath play. None of the breath play in the story is safe, even if done consensually. Pressing on the carotid artery to cause unconsciousness in particular is a good way to kill someone. So please, just don't. I'm sure there are experts out there who could tell you how to do breath play as safely as possible. I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE EXPERTS.
Anyway, have fun and play safe.
On with the show.
-IT
Luxury Goods
"Maintenance!"
"Who's that?" Emma asked, looking through the peephole.
She'd heard him, but she wanted to be sure. She wasn't used to getting visitors since she'd moved into the condo. Outside of floor 12, most of the rooms were still unoccupied. Some were kept empty by wealthy overseas investors, and others were slowly being bought up as vacation homes for coastal patricians. Her friends and family mostly found the place too creepy to stay long, despite the security access and on-duty desk guard.
As for maintenance, it had taken weeks to get the management company to service the defective plumbing installed in these supposedly "luxury" condos, and they had only agreed when the residents threatened to sue. Now, three weeks later, they were suddenly back to make more upgrades unprompted?
"Joey with maintenance, ma'am," said the large man in dark blue slacks and an ugly matching uniform shirt. He had a rugged looking shoulder bag, and was holding what looked like a stocky little tablet in his hands. "We're here to upgrade your washer-dryer."
She opened the door a crack, with the chain still engaged. "The washer-dryer is the only thing that works well here."
He scratched his stubbly chin. He was built and not bad looking, but the maintenance uniform did him no favors, his body bulging out like dough around the ill-fitting shirt.
"There's been a recall, unfortunately. About half of them have a bad element that can cause a fire. If I could just get in and inspect-"
"You have got to be kidding me!" she said, opening the door. "This is negligence to say the least."
"I completely agree, ma'am."
She looked up at him skeptically. "You do?"
He nodded.
"They buy the cheapest stuff they can, then pay twice as much to have us replace everything. And I'm sure it's quite an inconvenience for you as well."
That made her smile. Taking another look at him, perhaps it wasn't as inconvenient as all that.
"Well, glad to see we're on the same side, Joey," she said, picking up her glass of wine from the counter, as she lay her other hand on his arm.
"Me too, miss, uhh-" he reached into his bag for the work order
"Call me Emma," she said, offering her hand.
"Excuse my presentation," she added, gesturing at the towel wrapped around her long brown hair. He glanced at where the neck of the robe parted, revealing the tall, lithe woman's small, perky breasts. While the work order mentioned nothing about her profession, Joey had done enough of these jobs to spot it from her poise. Even fresh out of the shower, she looked magnificent.
"Sorry if this is too forward, but you model, don't you? Not many people can look glamorous in a robe and flip flops."
She chuckled, the sound light and musical.
"Or an ill-fitting uniform, for that matter," she rejoined. "But yes. I model a little. But mostly I focus on talent management these days."
She grinned at his slight blush. There was something that always got to her about a big guy being bashful.
She took a sip of her wine, taking a long look at his chest. "Filly Bonded Transport and Servicing? That's sort of vague.""
He smiled, in a way that made her want to take a step back.
"We do a little bit of everything: transporting, servicing, and installing high end appliances; maintenance; customization; and of course, packing."
Whatever she'd felt a moment ago, had been blunted by a touch of boredom. He smiled apologetically.
"Not the name I'd pick," he said with a wink.
"Well, come on, don't let me keep you all night," she replied, in a tone of voice that seemed to suggest she might consider doing just that.
She opened the door of the utility closet, gesturing for him to enter.
"Would you like something to drink?"
He looked at the glass in her hand, considering. "Thanks, Ma'am. Maybe after I finish with this," he said, brushing past her as he walked into the small room.
"Sure," she said, distractedly backing out of the room. She lingered outside, watching his ass as he bent over. He seemed to notice, inspecting the inside of the washer at an awkward angle with his flashlight so she'd get the best possible view of his ass. It was a little corny, but cute, and Emma did not mind the view. She actually felt a little disappointed when he stood up to inspect the top unit. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
"You sure you didn't miss anything down there, Joey?"
He grinned over his shoulder, that same bashful smile.
"Sorry, I'll give it another check just for you," he said, "but first you need to see this." His expression turned serious.
"And Emma, I'd put down the glass first."
"That bad?" she asked.
He nodded. "Might be the worst thing in this apartment."
She sighed. "Well in that case, I should probably finish it first. Want to do that bottom check while I finish it." she asked.
"Well, since we'll need to be out of here in a minute anyway," he said, and bent down, winking over his shoulder like a cheesecake model. She almost spit out her wine laughing
"Very glamorous," She said, walking in beside him, still smiling. "So what am I looking for?"
He gestured towards the top of the dryer, backing up slightly so she could see. Emma squinted trying to make out what was wrong with it.
Suddenly she jumped at the clatter of plastic hitting the ground.
"Uh, what happened to your tablet?" she asked, looking back and forth between the plastic casing on the ground and the flexible, folded rectangle unfurling in his hands, alarmed. She took a step back.
He seemed not to notice her unease, caught up in his own disappointment. "Oh, this thing isn't a tablet. It's an adhesive patch to secure the new installation when we screw it into the pipe. Keeps it from banging around during spin cycles. But it just popped open, because apparently nothing works here.'
She laughed, relaxing a little. "You get used to it, But uh, that smell is making me a little dizzy," she said, squeezing by him. "Maybe you want that drink after all?"
"Thanks. You get used to that too," Joey smiled as she turned around, then quickly swung the thick patch of cloth over the top of her head, wrapping it over her mouth and nose. "But like I said, we'll both be out of here in a minute."
Emma froze completely upright, like a deer hearing a twig snap, then put her hands to the fabric, feeling it from the outside in seeming disbelief.
"Whaa ihh uhhh?" she asked, her voice more indignant than scared.
"Just getting you ready for transportation," He said, carefully the ends of the sticky fabric around the back of her head.
"Wuhhh?" she the indignation giving way to confusion and a touch of panic as she spun dizzily, taking an unsteady half step to the side.
He watched with interest.
"Sorry we couldn't share that drink, Emma," he said, grasping her hands, "but I'll make sure we get some personal time together."
She tried to pull her hands away, but instead stumbled forward against him. She leaned back, a desperate whine coming from her throat.
"The good news is there are a lot of muscular men in your near future. I'm sure you'll enjoy at least some of it."
Emma tried to counterattack, but it was far too late. She managed to lift her foot about halfway to her knee, before stumbling back down onto it, and falling against him again. He steadied her with a hand on her ass. Slowly, her upper body sagged backwards, as if he were dipping her.
With a grin, Joey lowered her carefully to the ground, pulling open her robe and scrawling her apartment number on her chest as she groaned quietly, her fingers twitching. By the time he picked up the plastic debris from the applicator kit, she was completely out.
Feeling dizzy from the fumes, Joey walked away from her and took a few deep breaths, before grabbing her ankles and casually dragging her into the utility closet.
There way a knock at the door.
"I'll get that for you," he said, clapping her bare thigh as he stood up.
"You took too long. Was there a problem?" asked Jan, as he entered the room with a large crate on a dolly.
"Yeah. The cloth didn't work like it was supposed to. It snared, and the case broke open. And it took the better part of a minute for her to lose consciousness."
"Well, all's well that ends well," Jan said, walking toward the closet.
Joey clenched his jaw.
"Yeah, not for me it isn't. I need to know we can trust these things."
"Nice," said Jan, looking down at the girl, apparently no longer interested in the conversation he had started.
Her robe had pulled up, revealing her trim body and bundling her arms in a gesture of surrender. Between the robe, the applicator and the towel still wrapped around her hair, she looked like a mannequin's torso lying in a laundry pile. Jan pondered the green, silk panties, covering her sex.
"Wait, huh? Now you say it didn't work?"
He grabbed her hair by the towel, lifting her head to look at the applicator.
"Oh yeah, I see what you mean. All bunched up." He opened the crate and pulled out a gas mask.
"Alright, Miss. I'm going to get you wrapped up nice and snug while Joey goes to meet your neighbors," he said, stroking her thigh.
"Jesus, Jan, keep it in your pants," Joey said. "What do I do?"
Jan didn't even look up. "You've got your checklist. Next one. Quicker this time."
"About the broken applicators, Jan."
"Oh," he said, pondering, as he dragged Emma towards the crate. "Talk to Carla, she's great with those things. Can take pretty much any bitch down in seconds."
"Carla? Short, bubbly, Five foot nothing Carla?"
"Yeah," Jan said distractedly as he knelt over Emma. "Look at those soggy panties. I'll swear this fancy bitch has the hots for me." He bent down, quickly zip-tying her ankles together before slinging her over his shoulder.
Joey walked towards the door, resisting the urge to slug his new coworker. Even by the somewhat relaxed workplace conduct standard of the slave trade, it would be a bad move for a contractor on his first day.
"One day, I'm gonna get a little sweetheart just like you," Jan murmured as Joey closed the door behind him.
* * * * *
"Hey Joey," Carla said, lounging against the luggage truck filled with crates in a matching blue work shirt and long skirt.. "First installation okay?"
"Yeah, hi Carla. The, uh, applicator misfired."
