Author's note:
Major body modification, although perhaps more silly than serious.
This can also be read as a standalone story.
These are fictitious events, by fictitious characters, in a very fictitious universe.
Please consider that fair warning.
All events depicted are by characters 18 years or older.
***
It was science class, and Althea thought back to her latest ordeal. It had been the first day on a new job - she had wanted to make a good first impression. She had taken a job at an upscale lounge at a private airport. The type where people arrived in a helicopter and left on a private jet.
Although the description details were fuzzy, she had been warned the job was a bit on the 'naughty' side.
When she had arrived, the head waiter had directed her to sit at the bar. A few minutes later, the bartender had set a really large, cocktail glass down in front of her that was filled with a milky liquid. The glass looked like it could be leaded crystal.
Rather pretentious
. Althea thought.
Although the whole lounge was that way. The heavy wood bar and tables, and the heavy bar glasses could be Victorian. Although almost everything else, especially with the mirrored walls, looked modern, chic, and expensive.
As she was studying the glass, the bartender motioned for her to drink up. It was so big and heavy and filled to the brim, Althea decided to lift it with both hands like she was cupping a soup bowl. She took a sip. The liquid was thick and rich, like heavy cream or melted butter. However, it didn't have much of a taste, maybe something nutty or vanilla. It slightly burned her throat and made her stomach feel warm.
A while after she finished the drink, a twenty-something Latina woman showed up and escorted her back through the kitchen. Walking behind her, Althea felt light headed and her tongue felt thick.
She had been told not to eat or drink anything (except for a little water) for 12 hours prior to showing up.
A weird request
. Althea had thought. But they had emphasized it was important and told her she wouldn't return home hungry. Althea was generally used to submitting to authority and the opportunity was too good to argue with, so she had shrugged it off.
On an empty stomach, whatever was in the drink was hitting her fast.
At the back of the kitchen was the cleaning area with some large sinks. Another Latina woman was there waiting. The two women took hold of Althea's wrists and wrapped wrist cuffs on her. It was just nylon and heavy velcro, but as Althea looked at them closely, she could tell they would be effective restraints.
She had experimented with bondage, mostly self-bondage, and some self-bondage involving suspension. Her knee cuffs were hard to put on and couldn't be put on over shoes.
I should look into getting velcro wrap, knee cuffs
. Althea decided before she had a jolt of alarm.
Why are they putting wrist cuffs on me?
A moment later, she had her answer. The two women lifted her wrists up and fastened them to a cord that was suddenly hanging from the ceiling.
Well I guess that makes sense
. Althea mused.
Wait, wut?
What's going on?
Why are they tying my wrists up?
She tried to remember what this had to do with her job. It was hard to get her thoughts in order and her head felt dizzy.
I guess I shouldn't have skipped reading the employee handbook
. She giggled to herself.
As Althea was trying to come to grips with this, she felt the cords pulling up on her wrists and soon she was stretched out tight standing on tippy toes. As her arms and shoulders were being lifted, she could tell her top was also lifting. The black, spaghetti strap, crop top had barely covered the bottom of her breasts when her arms were at her sides. When she had put it on at home, it didn't seem unreasonable for a cocktail waitress type of job.
But now she was conscious of just how small her top was and how tiny her short, low cut skirt was. The skirt dipped so low in front, it might have been an issue if she wasn't fully waxed bare. She was showing a lot of skin between her upper chest and her pubic mound. Stretched out as she was, her small, tight, athletic body was even tighter. It also showed off her flat stomach and her taut muscles.
Althea suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed. Thoughts of bondage caused her chest to pound and sent blood rushing to her face. She looked over at the other staff that was in the kitchen. The Latino guys doing prep work were pretending they weren't checking her out, but Althea knew better. Although she didn't know Spanish, it was clear who they were talking about.
Althea knew she was sexually attractive - she got lots of male attention whether she wanted it or not. And she generally had a positive body image. But she also had a shy, easily embarrassed side. A shy side that was in constant tension with her eager-to-please personality. A shy, embarrassed side that easily resulted in a big embarrassed grin.
And she did indeed look very sexually attractive in the black, spaghetti strap, crop top that barely covered her breasts and her tiny, low cut skirt with her arms stretched out above her head so she was standing on her tippy toes. And she did indeed have a shy, embarrassed grin.
And her sexually attractive body, with her eager-to-please personality, and shy embarrassed grin were indeed the reasons she had been the top candidate for the job.
The two Latina women, who were behind her, were also chatting to each other in Spanish.
Is somebody going to explain what this has to do with being a cocktail waitress?
Althea asked herself.
Althea felt hands on her back and then the spaghetti straps on her top came free. Lowering her eyes, she could see the straps hanging down in front of her. The crop top was now just a tube top that was hanging loosely from the top of her breasts.
She thought at first the straps had been cut, but then she realized the straps must have velcroed on to the back of the crop top.
Wait, why do I care how the straps connect
. Althea twitched as she remembered she was tied, almost suspended, in the kitchen.
What's going on?
What's happening?
Althea was still looking at the top, when hands on either side of her grabbed it and gently pulled it down to her lower rib cage. As her breasts popped into view, Althea did a double take.
What happened to my bra?
Althea distinctly remembered putting on the small, lacy, dark blue bra. It was the only one she had that would even remotely work with the tiny crop top with spaghetti straps. She was not overly endowed - her young, tight breasts didn't really need bra support. But the thin, flimsy crop top wasn't something she would dream of wearing by itself.
Laughter caused Althea to look up, and she gasped. She had forgotten all about her audience. The Latino guys were no longer even pretending as they openly gawked at her.
Oh crap
. She exclaimed to herself.
Shouldn't they have taken me somewhere more private?
Althea had forgotten that she didn't even know why the Latina women were doing whatever it was they were doing to her.