Laura's Evolution

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Transported

I turned, feeling the encumbrance of the multiple, long, heavy skirts swirling around my legs and walked carefully out of the dressing room, then down the hall. Wearing the 15 cm heeled shoes was always a trial and descending stairs had to be done carefully at any time, but now that I could barely see, thanks to my thick veils and with my legs enveloped in the cloying skirts, it was downright dangerous. Master followed me along the hall and down the stairs, then out to the garage where he opened the side door of the van and gestured that I get myself into the single back seat that had replaced all of the others that normally came as standard equipment. The heavily modified captain’s-type chair in the otherwise empty back of the van was where I was now always required to sit whenever we left the property. He’d had the original luxury seats removed, the new arrangement installed a week or so before, and it was a hint of what was to come. It took me some time to get settled and arrange all my skirts and veils, then he stepped inside and fastened me into my seat with his usual thoroughness.

A wide strap was passed around my waist, tugged tight over my hips and gluing me onto the seat, then he proceeded to my legs. Another wide band went over my thighs just above the knees, then the next ones around each of my ankles. He moved to my upper body and tightened another wide band around my chest, just below my breasts, then took straps from the high back and pulled them down over my shoulders to meet at the centre of the chest band between my projecting breasts. A wide, central portion descended to the waist/hip belt and was then locked. Everything was drawn tight, and all of their behind-the-chair ends were locked. I’d been immobilized in the seat, but the process was not yet complete. He raised my veil then my arms and hands were also rendered useless when he passed more wide straps around my biceps then jerked them tight. Another was passed over each of my wrists and secured, so that only my tightly gloved fingers remained with any motion, but this capability also was quickly removed when he flipped down a covering plate over each of my hands and wrists and locked it to the chair’s arms. These covers each had internal dividers that separated my fingers and thumbs from each other, being deeply padded to keep them motionless. As my final fastening into the seat, he brought a wide, formed strap around my throat, pulling my neck and head back into the hollowed rest behind, then a harness of thick straps hanging from its upper edge was brought up over the front of my veiled face and connected to fittings behind. Other straps led off to the sides, preventing me from turning my head, and finally, a wide, formed band was slipped down over the eye window in my veils, leaving me blinded and motionless.

No matter how many times I’d sat in this chair, I was always frightened, yet aroused, to be so utterly helpless and unable to see, but I had no choice in the matter, for I am his slave and had to accept what he does to protect and secure me. A few seconds after he’d finished, the door slid shut and was locked with a solid thud, then the engine started and away we went. In the back, I twisted uselessly against the web of straps holding me, struggling to find some easement of the restriction all the way into town, an hour and a half drive away. I had no success whatsoever, just as he intended, and so sat in silent darkness while the country flowed by beyond the heavily tinted windows. No one could see through them into the van’s interior and so I was a prisoner in more ways than could be imagined by anyone in the world beyond. I must have nodded off from boredom; for the next thing I remember is that he was releasing the straps and a couple of minutes later I stood dazedly on the sidewalk while he locked the van.

“Come along, Laura.”

I could vaguely make out his form through the mesh covering my eyes, then he moved off down the street. I was embarrassed and mad at him for making me dress like this and wanted to sink into a crack in the cement, but he was my only connection to the outer world and so I strutted along behind him, only faintly hearing the tapping of my heels. He’d purposefully parked quite a distance from Justin’s studio ensuring that I had to struggle all the way there in my bizarre costume, aware of how I’d been subjugated just by my apparel alone. It was staggering for me to think that in the Middle East, I’d be only another anonymous woman amongst hundreds of thousands, but here, I was totally out of place! Certainly, I’d worn floor-length skirts into town before, but never anything as totally concealing as what I now did. Beneath the concealment of my veils and the snug, distressingly dehumanizing mask, I felt my face flush red with embarrassment.

When we finally entered Justin’s place I sighed gratefully, even though what was to come was going to be a substantial trial. He’d set the whole day and evening aside, having rescheduled other appointments. Therefore, at just after 10:00 in the morning, I began my journey to becoming totally controlled by both my piercings and the incredible array of jewellery that was to be mounted in and through them, to say nothing of the other adornments that would soon web, clasp and imprison my body, mind and sexuality.