Snitches and Bitches (Patreon)

His goon shoves me through the door to his office and closes the door behind me. It's a sparse, furnished attic, white walls, and ceiling, a few armchairs, his cluttered desk, and behind it him, looking through some papers.

"I'm," I start, but he holds up his hand without looking up from whatever paperwork he is reading through. I remain silent. The ceiling window bathes the room in natural light, though it is cloudy outside.

He looks up and quickly scans me. "Take off all your clothes, everything, and put that on." He waves toward a folded black square of cloth on one of the green armchairs. For a moment I hesitate to consider what is going on. When his henchmen shoved me into a car and drove me across town I expected to end up beaten in some warehouse or industrial plant, not taken to the boss himself. Not that a beating still wasn't in the cards, but I felt better about my prospects of surviving the day.

"I'm not going to..." I again attempted, but he cut me off. "I don't like to repeat myself," he said and nodded towards the armchair.

I stepped out of my shoes, took off my jacket, and placed that in the other armchair. Then I unbuttoned my shirt and placed it on top, followed by my trousers. Then a moment's hesitation. Was this going to be humiliation? Blackmail? Setting me up for some other crime and having the police take care of me for them? Not much of a choice. I dropped my briefs and removed my socks and put them on top of the shoes. Then I grabbed the black square from the chair.

It looked like some sort of zip-up swimsuit in a fabric I wasn't familiar with. Not quite plastic, not rubber, definitely nothing natural. Shiny, but not polished. As I turned it in my hands trying to figure out how to get into it, and really what it even was, I saw it had long sleeves as well. The zipper went all the way from back in the ass, around the crotch, and up the front to the neck. A big chrome ring was attached to the zipper. It all looked like some kind of fetish night outfit from one of his girls in the private rooms below.

He was looking at me intently now. It felt demeaning, as he no doubt had planned, and I wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. I unzipped the damn thing and stepped into it, surprising myself with how far up my sides the leg openings went. They were cut so steep they began above my belly button. I could feel an uncomfortable amount of ass showing as well. I hastily struggled my arms into the sleeves and got the top part over my shoulders. Finally I reached down between my legs to pull the chrome ring of the zipper up only to fumble with my junk until I found it way back between my legs once I had hunched over. With one hand I carefully pulled the zipper forward while with the other I cupped my balls to protect my sack or any hair from getting caught. Once past them I slowly went up, putting my limp dick up against my belly button. Once clear I pulled the ring up quickly and it made that telltale vibrating sound of a plastic zipper. The cold fabric almost felt wet against my skin, and an odd sensation of it hugging me tight.

"Pull it all the way up," he said.

I tilted my head back, grabbed the ring, and pulled it up the last few inches. The outfit felt snug around the neck, like the collar was squeezing me. I could feel the material quickly heating up from my body heat. He leaned back in his chair and watched me just standing there in that ridiculous outfit. It was quickly getting warmer, uncomfortably so despite the skimpy cut of the damn thing. Probably some sort of plastic that doesn't breathe properly. I'm getting thirsty. I  swallow and lick my lips. There's an odd sensation in the crotch as well. Almost reflexively I touch the zipper in front of my dick, thinking it might be an erection coming, but it was false alarm. If anything I can't feel the dick at all through the weird fabric. As I search further down I do feel some sort of jolt, from my crotch up my spine. I lick my lips again. They feel puffy. I can't help myself and continue to rub my crotch. The sensation isn't as intense, but waves of pleasure emanate out into the body, like some sort of heat source. I close my eyes and lick my lips again. So thirsty.

Something in the back of my mind tells me this is wrong. I shouldn't do this. Before I manage to grab hold on to why, the "this" that is wrong slips my mind. There is a slow ticking sound. I'm ticking. I open my eyes and look down. My breasts have been straining the fabric and the zipper suddenly decided to slowly open itself. I look down at them as they slowly grow larger and larger, again with a feeling that something is wrong. Of course! The ring was chrome before, but now it's black somehow.

The man is standing up from his chair and steps out in front of the desk. My emotions are all over the place. On one hand I have the feeling that I don't like him, for whatever reason. On the other my gaze can barely move from his crotch. I bite my lip. I'm so thirsty, and I desperately want to unzip his pants and give him the best blowjob he's ever had in his life.

"That's not going to happen, sweetie," he says, as if he can read my mind. Can he? "The first few days are always foggy. I'll have Jim drive you home. Some boys will check in on you tomorrow to see how you're doing. Until then" he reaches for a box on the desk and hands over a vibrating dildo "go fuck yourself."