© Copyright 2004 - Wanda - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f+; club; cuffs; stage; strip; wrap; saran; cocoon; harness; susp; toys; reluct/nc; X
My life is pretty normal. I have good friends, go to school, and work part-time at a local strip bar. No, I don't strip, I'm just a waitress, but I've been told by everybody that with a body like mine I could easily make a career out of stripping. But I still have some values left and stripping for money is something I won't do.
Anyway, this story happened Halloween night. I got off work as usual and my friend Karla thought it'd be fun to grab a couple of outfits and go out. Personally I thought it was a bad idea since the outfits were not ours and they were kind of skimpy. But Karla was a stripper and she was used to them, so she convinced me and I agreed. From the strip bar's dressing room Karla picked a tight leotard printed with a tiger pattern. The leotard also had a tail and came with a separate hair dress, cat ears, and high heels.
And the best disguise I could find was an Alice outfit. Alice, as in "Alice in Wonderland". It consisted small blue dress, a similarly small white apron, white mid-tight pantyhose held with lacy elastic bands, black six-inch heels, and a white ribbon to hold my blonde hair. I looked incredibly hot!
At first everything went really well. The streets were flowing with people and everyone loved our outfits. Karla's was more inviting but I got my share of attention too. Our original plan was to be back home by midnight, but after a couple of free martinis and posing for hundreds of pictures we changed our mind. I wasn't drinking that much, but I was having a blast! Everyone wanted a picture with Alice and the Cheshire Pussy (in reference to the Cheshire Cat from the movie).
Sometime after midnight we took a wrong turn and ended up in an alley of alternative clubs. There wasn't that many people in the alley, except for one particular club where we saw a crowd of about 30 people. The guys at the door were dressed like cops. I told Karla that we should probably head back, but I could not reason with her. She wanted to go there and I wasn't going to let her go alone in her current state of drunkenness. I grabbed Karla's arm and we made our way towards the crowd. Next to the club's entrance one of the cops was holding a girl in handcuffs. The girl seemed to be having a good time with all the attention she was getting.
There were flashes everywhere and a lot of noise coming from the other clubs in the alley. Alternative music, trance, and such. Suddenly someone grabbed Karla and pulled her away from me and pushed her to the front.
"We have another one!!” someone yelled out as my drunken friend tumbled against the patrolmen. The crowd cheered and Karla began laughing. The patrol guy began placing Karla in handcuffs.
I tried to make my way to the front to save Karla but a couple of guys held me by my arms and also threw me into the arms of another cop. I was confused, It all happened too fast. I felt strong hands pull my arms behind my back and place cuffs on me too. As soon as I was cuffed the announcer proclaimed that I was the third volunteer. The whole alley was blaring with noise. I could see real cops in the distance but they were sitting in their cars, observing what was going on. I tried to scream but a ballgag was forced into my mouth, leg irons were then quickly attached to my ankles, and a collar was placed on my neck. The cop handling me clipped a leash to the collar and led me towards the club's entrance.
Karla and the other girl received the same treatment. The crowd followed us to the door but that's where most of them stopped. Only members were allowed in the club. The club was very small and very high-class. A circle of about 30 seats surrounded a small stage. A few chained women decorated some columns, and other chained maids served drinks and appetizers. Almost everyone in attendance wore leather or latex. There was a circular skylight in the ceiling some 30 feet above our heads. The three of us were led next to the stage.
I figured the building was soundproof since the club was quieter than outside. There were a lot of other women (and a couple of men) in bondage and kneeling next to their respective masters and mistresses. The seats were all covered in leather and were very ample. They looked very comfortable. We were announced as "lay volunteers seeking to taste the pleasures of bondage" by the woman announcer. She also asked for suggestions from the audience to determine our fates.
I was chosen first.
"And what should Alice's fate be?” the woman asked speaking in a clear loud voice but not yelling. There was no need for a microphone as all the seats were only a few feet away from the stage. The guy holding me took me to the centre of the stage and the lights fell on me.
"Strip the bitch", I heard a man say. The audience chattered and agreed.
A few minutes later I stood red-faced and completely naked in the stage. Still wearing my gag and restrains. The Alice suit had to be cut from me and my shoes where also taken away. All I could think of was that my boss was going to kill me for destroying the costume. I released a scream through the gag and began tugging at my bonds when the announcer hit my bare right breast with her riding crop.
"She a feisty one!” a woman yelled out from the back, much to the amusement of the crowd.
"Black Widow's web!” another woman cried.
"Yeah, let's see how feisty she is there", a guy in the front said. The crowd started clapping. It seemed unanimous.
"The Black Widow it is!” the announcer proclaimed enthusiastically.
A black woman came up to the stage. She wore a red corset, black latex miniskirt that barely covered her red thong, and knee-high red leather boots. She was tall and beautiful. I hadn't noticed but a small frame had been constructed on one side of the small stage. Twin metal poles holding a crossbar, and a thick leather strip hanging from the middle of the bar.
"Get your ass here, bitch", she said as she pulled me by my blonde hair towards the frame. My hobbled feet clapped against the smooth stone floor of the stage as I tried to keep up. She took my hair and in a couple of quick moves tied it together with the leather strap hanging from the bar. I was standing on my toes. Again camera flashes glittered the audience area. I tried to scream but all that come out were moans. I struggled vigorously but my hair was stuck and there's no way out.
"Mistresses and masters, I will now proceed to render this poor and innocent girl helpless before your very eyes", she narrated to the audience as she was handed a roll of blue plastic wrap.
First she looped the thin plastic sheet around my shins. Five coats were enough to stop me from pulling my feet apart. My leg irons were removed before she proceeded to wrap my ankles together in the same manner. She then proceeded to wrap my upper body as well. Four loops right above my breasts and four more below them, effectively pinning my upper arms to my body. She removed the handcuffs and a few hits of her crop persuaded me to place my hands against my hips, palms down, as she wrapped my forearms, hands, and fingers to my sides.
"You've got pretty nails, bitch", she whispered in my ear, "we wouldn't want them to interfere with your mummification".
I panicked as I finally realized what they had planned for me. I began thrashing in my bonds. But it was no use. The crowd clapped as they knew the fun was about to start. She began a slow process of wrapping my body, making sure that there were as few wrinkles as possible in the plastic. She kept caressing the material, smoothing it against my body. After the third roll of wrap I had already given up any resistance and was visibly crying. I tried to plead with the Widow, but it was no use, she was merciless and laughed at my moans and tears.
A few more rolls later she had finished. I stood hanging by my hair. Mummified and still in my toes. My entire body (except for my breasts, feet and ass cheeks) had been smoothly covered by the blue plastic. She had also left my head unwrapped.
Suddenly I heard pulleys turning and chains rattling. The sound came from above but I couldn't move my head enough to see what was going on. Then I saw it. They had lowered a leather swing from the ceiling. A couple of guys came in, released my hair, and carried my mummified body to the swing. The swing hung some 4 feet from the ground. It consisted of parallel metal bars connected by a series of thick leather straps. A number of chains came from the bars to a big O-ring that hung from a chain attached to a pulley in the ceiling.
I was laid on the swing face-down, with straps running above and below my breasts, across my hips, above and below my knees, and across my ankles. The Widow braided my long blonde hair into a ponytail, then tied a leather string from my ponytail to the O-ring to prevent my head from hanging. Then my mummification resumed. Again I freaked as this time the Widow began working in my head. Slowly she resumed the process and a few minutes later my head and neck were completely encased in plastic wrap except for my eyes and my nostrils. The plastic around the neck wasn't tight at all, but it kept me from rotating my head.
She forced a vibrator between my ass cheeks. It didn't go into either orifice but she said it would keep my motor running for when they decided to bring me down. She turned it on and then attached a clamp to each of my nipples. The clamps were designed to keep me from struggling. They were small and painful and had a spring that held a little weight. If I struggled the spring would bounce up and down tugging at my nipple. Then they began taking me upwards. One pull at a time. I cried and screamed for them to stop. The spring mechanism in the clamps tortured my sore nipples with every pull.
And then I was alone, some 30-feet above the stage. The Widow had made sure to cover my gag with a few extra loops of wrap so I wouldn't drool onto the stage. Nobody could hear my moans anymore as the Widow was praised by the audience for another masterful display of control.
From my prison I bore silent witnessed to Karla's and the other girl's sentence. They were used for target practice in a whipping contest, and after about an hour of torture they were taken through the backdoor God-only-knows where. I kept my eye on the Black Widow as I figured she'd be the one to bring me down. But a few minutes after Karla's performance was over she got up and left. I screamed and screamed and I watched in horror as she put on her coat and left through the main door with another woman. My entire body was sore. I needed to get out. The club continued with their regular performances. Slave punishments, bondage demonstrations and such. I witnessed it all.
A few hours passed and people started leaving, but no one looked up.
I had been forgotten. My tears were the only thing that could save me but
no one saw them falling onto the empty stage. The nipples, the vibrator,
my complete lack of movement, the height, the pictures, everything had
gone wrong that night. Then I became aware of the intruder between my legs.
It started slowly, but soon the warm tingling became lust, and my situation
soon drove me into ecstasy. The nipple clamps were doing their job too,
but I needed to get off. After a few minutes of struggling I exploded in
my cocoon. All I could was wiggle my toes and my feet as I screamed in
the gag. I must have collapsed after that because I don't remember anything
The following morning I woke up crying as I realized I was still in my cocoon. The sunlight coming from the skylight projected itself onto the wall, but it took a few more hours before the sunlight captured my silhouette and projected it on the floor. The batteries in the vibrator had already died. I was taken down at noon, when one of the bar workers finally saw my shadow struggling.
My cocoon was cut with surgical scissors. "Sorry we forgot about you, miss", was their only excuse. They had waited for me to claim Karla and for Karla to claim me, but they had no idea we were both in their captivity. I was taken to see Karla to a cell in the back of the club. She lay in bed, hogtied and gagged. She wore only her cat hairdress, and her naked body was covered by the whip marks from last night.
The club apologized for the confusion and offered us free membership. But of course there was one catch: one of us had to be the slave whenever we came into the club. We accepted the membership mainly because Karla insisted, and I accepted to be the slave. Karla likes taking me there and the Black Widow has a good time with me. She knows I don't like being mummified but that hasn't stopped her from perfecting her art. At least I don't fear being left forgotten for too long.
As for the costumes, my boss never forgave us for destroying them, and since the club claimed no responsibility since they had reached an agreement with us. Karla's costume was only $350, and she agreed to dance for free for one night, which was more than enough for someone as experienced as she was. The Alice costume, on the other hand, came out to $1200, including the shoes, which I had also lost. That was according to the invoice my boss showed me, but I didn't believe her.
I had no money and she had threatened to fire me unless I could repay her somehow. So for the past 8 days I've been stripping to pay for the costume. She pays me for the night and has banned tips for me. She says that's going to teach me something about the value of hard work. Back at the club the name Alice stuck with me. They never really asked for my real name, but oddly enough the club's name had always been Wonderland.