Descent Into Darkness (Written Pictures #1) Read online

  “Wow!” she exclaimed with difficulty as her lower jaw was now almost fixed in position. While already hard, her breathing became yet more laboured as the collar compressed her throat. She felt him moving again behind her and then heard a fourth click. Katarina jerked forward, her hands immediately darting to the back of her neck. As her fingers explored they confirmed a horrible fear; the zip of her catsuit was padlocked to the collar, sealing her into her current attire.

  “You have the keys for those, right?” pressed Katarina with a growing concern, the tremble in her voice not really hidden by a forced smile. Again unanswered, she tried to turn to challenge the man that now controlled her but corset and collar restricted her movement. She felt hands once again resting on her tightly nipped waist as his breath stroked her shoulders, the warmth barely filtering through the taught latex of her catsuit. Was that a kiss on her shoulder? A second confirmed it, a third began to usher away her fears. Confused, she leaned back into him, trying to work everything out yet comforted by his presence.

  As his hands traced up her body, the electricity of his touch surprised her. Maybe sparked by the danger of her clothing, perhaps by the power he had over her career, she felt the tension course through her. It was a tension that she would normally only expect from the touch of her occasional lover, Lauren, on one of her surprise night time visits. Straining against the strong leather collar, Katarina nestled the back of her head onto Immelmann’s shoulder, luxuriating in his touch on her waist, chest and ultimately down her arms as he explored her latex-clad body for the first time.

  She drew in his aftershave until corset and collar would allow no more. Should she kiss his cheek? Was that what he expected? Was this how things worked? She couldn’t risk ruining everything, he was her career and she was in his hands. Would it be going too far? Would he simply step back and walk away?

  A second moan passed her lips, floating in the air as she felt herself charged by the touch of this powerful figure. Her wrists in his, she thought nothing as he drew them back, causing her to lean further into him, be more dependent on him for support. Even as handcuffs ratcheted around first one wrist, then the other, Katarina barely noticed as she received yet more kisses along her jaw line, which nestled snugly against the harsh leather of her collar. Involuntarily twisting her arms, she soon found these were not the playful fur-lined cuffs, often found in the closet of lovers. No, these were the real - serious hinged cuffs that severely prevented movement.

  Her body stiffened and her eyes shot open in alarm. “Relax sweetheart,” he cooed as her heart pounded a heavy rhythm. “You’re gonna be famous.” His words was like honey to her, soothing the rising doubts. Katarina had no defence against such velvet. She was his model, his property and increasingly his toy and his reminder of the shoot made it all make sense again.

  Her dreamlike state was roughly broken though as he pushed her onto her side, her stringent corset making it impossible to prevent the fall once momentum had been engaged. Thudding into the plump duvet, Katarina tried to right herself but the cuffs, collar and corset combined to rob her of her usual flexibility. Powerless to resist now, she could only lie there as she felt something being pressed into the palm of her hand.

  What was he doing? Why had he pushed her onto her side? She heard the tearing of tape while he balled her fingers, trapping them around a cold, hard object.

  Before her thoughts could catch up with the veer of events, layers of tape were wound around and around her balled fist, sealing the unknown item within it while at the same time removing any possible use of her hand. When he grabbed her other wrist, Katarina started to struggle – an already forlorn attempt to retain the use of that one free hand. Constrained as she was though, with the handcuffs already locking her wrists together in a steel embrace, there was no escape. Relentlessly, Immelmann wound her second hand into a mirror of the first after once again pressing a hard object into her palm, ultimately leaving both useless.

  Her arms ended now in club-like stumps, the latex tape blending smoothly into the obsidian sheen of her catsuit. ‘Too much, this was too much,’ her head screamed. The well-stoked fire in her loins prevented her from making a sound though as the thrill of her position sent frissons of excitement cavorting throughout her body. She lay there, barely comprehending the situation as she felt a cold metal band circle her arm above the elbow. The ratcheting sound told her that once again she was being cuffed and as her other arm was drawn towards the first, the closure of a second band welded elbow to elbow.

  Why didn't she struggle more? Why didn't she object? Her head demanded answers to these and many other questions. Throughout though, they remained unspoken while her body yielded to events. Katarina desperately started to reason with herself. This was part of the prep, the scene setting to get her in the right mood to give her the best launch for her career. Yes, she trusted this man and needed his goodwill as the foundation to stardom. She would not resist. She would allow him to continue. She would be famous.

  The strain on her shoulders was not uncomfortable and she ignored the pressure as she looked down to see her breasts thrusting forward over the restraint of the corset, her posture perfected by her newly cuffed elbows. The position he was manipulating her into really was showing her at her best, she could see that now. She was sure she would blow the readers away with this final picture - a picture of jet black gleaming beauty, a beauty bound for their delight and bound for fame and fortune.

  Still behind her, she felt him moving her restrained arms, and heard him inserting a key into the lock of the first cuffs, opening them and freeing her wrists, their job done for now. Wondering if he had had a change of heart, she tried to turn her head to reward him with a smile but the tough leather of her posture collar held her facing forward, the snap of stretched latex giving only the merest hint towards the next stage of her ongoing incarceration.

  She was okay with this, she really was. Inwardly Katarina repeated it again to reassure herself. She fluttered the stumps that had once been hands in what she assumed was his direction, eager to touch, to show him she understood. Perhaps she could stroke along his leg or perhaps Lady Luck would guide her to another part of him.

  Struggling with her balled fist, he tugged and pulled it into another layer of latex, working it up and over her wrist before pulling it up to the cuffs above her elbows. The process was repeated on her other arm, trapping her already useless hands in latex mitts, removing any last hope of use.

  The cuffs clicked back around her wrists, once again joining them, locking the mitts on her. He repeated the process with her elbow cuffs, first unlocking then removing them before drawing the latex mitts further up her arms and reapplying them to return her to the flattering captive posture she knew would be enjoyed.

  Reaching almost to her shoulder, she smelt the unexpected odour of adhesive and furrowed her brow as she tried to imagine what he was doing now. Even in her wildest dreams though, she would not have correctly guessed as he glued the mitts to her catsuit, the silicon welding the two together, sealing her within her sculpted latex prison.

  Immelmann didn't talk now. He didn't reassure her as he saw no need. There was no going back and no effective resistance she could conjure up. Going into his bag once again, he smiled as his need to control found its wings. Retrieving the leather armbinder, he held it up in preparation for its application to this beauty before him who had allowed herself to be trussed up to better suit his tastes.

  The fitting of the armbinder startled Katarina. This was too much. It wasn't necessary to restrain her like this. The armbinder would hide the other layers of bondage while the multiple layers made it clear that this was no longer cosmetic. No, this was real and she was in trouble. She opened her mouth to scream but as she did, she felt the armbinder drop away as a rubber mass was crammed against her lips, trapping them against her teeth and causing her to cry out in pain and protest. The involuntary cry was all the opportunity he needed and, as her mouth opened, he pulled back
hard on the straps, fitting the rubber cock deep into her mouth.

  It completely filled her mouth, there could have been no more effective way of silencing her. In increasing frenzy, she explored the new intruder with her tongue as she desperately tried to cry out but heard nothing except the faintest protest. The simulated veins on this invader disgusted her with their reality. She had taken men in her mouth before but it wasn't really her thing, a woman's breast was a far more pleasurable experience. Now though she had no choice as the leather cover crushed her lips against her teeth. She felt him pull the leather strap tightly through a buckle. Yet another click told her the familiar story of permanence and the absolute futility of her position. There was nothing she could do and sucking for comfort, the salinity of the rehydration fluids in the bladder within the cock assaulted her taste buds and trickled down her throat.

  Satisfied with her silence, Immelmann returned to fitting the armbinder. This time she struggled, jagging her arms left and right to at least demonstrate some resistance and slow the process of the inevitable. Bands were tightened first round her wrists, pressing the steel handcuffs still further into her flesh. A second band was tightened below her elbows. A third just above as her arms were sealed together inside a triangle of unyielding leather. Each band was buckled so tightly, melding her arms into one.

  She flapped her useless arms around behind her. She wasn’t sure what her aim was but Katarina knew she had to demonstrate at least the symbol of resistance, belated as it was. A pinch to her nose quickly stopped even this. Impossible to breathe through her mouth and already robbed of breath by the crushing grip of the corset; the fear of blacking out froze her.

  “Be still girl!” he commanded. No more a velvet caress, the authority in his voice was now clear and unforgiving. She would not struggle. There was no point. She didn’t want to anger him. She was vulnerable so, with immense force of will, she stilled herself, laying there bound before him.

  A strap flapped over her shoulder and was threaded through the waiting buckle. Repeating the process on the other side, the armbinder was now firmly anchored to her. There was no chance of it sliding off and no chance of her pushing it off. He was leaving nothing to even hint of escape and she cooperated as best she could as he brought her back up to a sitting position.

  The glint of metal descended into her field of vision, passing lower until it nestled between her breasts from a chain. “That key will remain on view girl,” he sneered in a whispered threat. “It is the key to your gag in case anyone wants to use your mouth.” She had the final confirmation now from his own lips. This had gone beyond a photo shoot. This was for real and her thoughts fizzed between cascades of excitement and fear, quickening her pulse and causing her to struggle still further to draw breath to service her heightened state.

  “Just one thing to go now girl,” he whispered quietly, pressing into her body, causing her to lean forward and the corset to bite still deeper into her ribs. The simple act of breathing took all her focus now, all thoughts of struggle having already evaporated. Katarina felt something pushed into each ear, causing the normal ambient sounds of the room to disappear behind an impenetrable wall of white noise.

  First he'd stolen her athleticism, then her ability to resist, her voice and now finally he'd taken her hearing. She was sealed in a world of fuzzy interference, robbed of any hope of communication as he pressed a fixing wax into each ear canal. Deathly efficient in the removal of any input, another of her senses was now his. The pain of discomfort racked her body, dulling any sense of touch. Even her sense of smell was being consistently assaulted by the heady cocktail of latex, leather and the aroma of her own building desire. Katarina’s sight remained the only sensory input left.

  Pulling her to her feet, she balanced for the first time in the cruel heels. Her ankles fought to minutely correct and re-correct against the give in the deep carpet which, just ten minutes before, she had viewed as luxurious. Now it was simply torturous. To some it was a challenge to stand erect in high heels but one she had easily mastered. This were different though. With no arms to aid her and her only way of breathing being in short shallow breaths, the concentration needed to stay upright was intense. Hands rested on her waist, guiding her forward in tentative steps to be positioned before the full length mirror.

  She had been swept along by the process of her increasing bondage but now her predicament really hit home hard. Her seemingly endless legs were forced en pointe, locked into boots that she had no clue how she’d remove. The gleam of the latex shone bright, contrasting with the dramatic leather corset that pinched her waist to an almost impossible degree. Her breasts strained in their latex confinement as the position of her arms thrust them forward while the silver key draped from her neck contrasted against the jet of her catsuit.

  Katarina looked into her own mirrored eyes, dampening now with the hopelessness of her situation. Vanity had first smoothed a path to take her out of her home country. Its twin horse, Ego, had been added to the chariot that she had ridden hell bent to where she now was propped and bound against the man that had hinted toward so much before simply taking everything.

  As her gaze trailed downwards, she ran her eyes further over the reflection. Where her mouth would normally be seen smiling back in approval, the unwelcome leather pad instead hid the large rubber cock. She settled finally on the posture collar that held her head erect and immobile. The embossed word picked out in silver on a rectangular metal plate riveted to the front was to be a herald to her future. Confused, it took her a moment to realise that the reflected word was backwards and processing it in her head, the first layer of her self-esteem peeled away to the word eventually picked out: 'SLAVE'.

  CHAPTER II - Preparation

  His voice broke in on her otherwise silenced world, “You are my slave, girl.” He paused, allowing the near silence to close around her again, his words to echo in her head as the only sound on which she could focus. Fear danced in Katarina’s eyes.

  “You are offered one chance of freedom and one only.” He was in front of her now, cold eyes meeting her fear. “This is my offer to you.”

  Her world returned to silence but for the hazy white noise. As she looked at the reflection of bondaged beauty, a single mirrored tear rolled down her cheek as she waited for his next words to break through the static. Though she was clad head to toe in latex and leather, she'd never felt so exposed, so naked.

  “You know that the key hanging around your neck can unlock your gag, but the other keys are also close at hand,” he explained with a lilt of malevolent laughter and a playful twitch of a thick eyebrow. “There is a key taped in each of them. Of course they may as well be on the moon. You cannot get to them. Nobody can see them. You cannot ask for help or tell anyone just how close your release could be.”

  The gravity of her situation leached into her core. Katarina started to squirm in her bonds, testing for at least some hope, some chance of a flaw in his planning, however small. She may as well have tried to run a world record marathon in her towering ballet boots though, it was equally pointless. She was trapped and totally under his control, a thought that filled her with dread and yet, on a deeper, carnal level, thrilled her to the root of her very being.

  “Your left hand contains the key to one of your boots, the right to the other,” he continued. “Or perhaps they are elsewhere? It's so hard to remember. Maybe I have it wrong.” He squeezed the base of the armbinder that welded her arms together, reminding her of the possible location of the keys. Beneath the layers of leather, latex and tape that cocooned her arms though, all she felt was a vague pressure.

  “There are other keys on you of course.” Another tear picked its way down her cheek. “They have already been placed. One taped to the inside of your corset. That's for your collar; you’d never have guessed it was there, would you?” Her breathing seemed that much more difficult.

  “Oh, and the discomfort in your boot? Another key,” he revealed as he moved round in f
ront of her, kneeling to squeeze the instep of her boot, causing the soft, buttery leather to press against the key which in turn dug into the soft sole of her foot. “As I recall, that one's for your corset.” He smiled, rising to face her. “You hold all the keys to your release girl. Isn't that comforting?” The smile was laden with irony and held no warmth, chilling her as the magnitude of his words sited themselves within her uncomfortably. His proximity emphasised his strong frame, imposing it on her. Her only choice was to look at him through her tear-rimmed eyes, now red with anguish.

  “You'll make your mascara run girl,” he reminded her as he reached forward to wipe away an imaginary smudge with his thumb. Pressing just a little too roughly, he left her still immaculate makeup intact but with a legacy of discomfort.

  “You still have to look good for the rest of the shoot,” he continued. Was this all part of it? Was the aim merely to make her live the role for the benefit of the shoot? Was her fear an overreaction? Hope pricked her as she looked at the handsome man smiling before her. Perhaps she had misread that smile too? She tried to smile back, as much in hope as in real belief. Her lips though would not move, crushed as they were behind the leather covering of her gag. Her eyes told their own story though and his own smile broadened in response.