-- read part 1 here --
-- read part 2 here --
Behind the gate appeared a young woman who was dressed almost as bizarre as Raissa. She was wearing a classic black and white maid's uniform, but it was so shiny it almost had to be made entirely out of some sort of rubber. Also, even through her thick hoods Raissa could hear the clanking sound of metal. The woman's hand and feet were chained, and between both sets of cuffs was a connecting chain. If she wanted to walk straight, she had to keep her hands together as low as she could to allow enough slack in the feet chain. Conversely, when she reached her hands up to unattach Raissa's leash from the gate and open it, she had to keep her feet together to allow her hands to move high enough.
The girl opened the gate and pulled Raissa's leash to urge her forward. Then she closed it again and led Raissa towards the house. All this time the unknown girl remained silent, which was understandable since she had a big black ball gag strapped in her mouth. Slowly the odd pair made their way to the front door, and then through a hall into a side chamber. The room contained a table and some chairs, but Raissa wasn't offered one. Instead the girl attached her leash to a hook in the wall before leaving the room. Then the girl took the drawstrings of Raissa’s hood and pulled them tight, closing Raissa’s hood completely.
There was nothing Raissa could do about the situation. She just had to stand there and wait. Distantly she heard noise somewhere in the building - music and talking? Was she at some kind of party?
She heard the door open. She breathed heavily and quickly inside the down hood, fearful of what would come. The leash was unhooked and she was led somewhere. She now distinctly heard the noise of many people in one room. A door was opened, and Raissa knew she was now in the room with all the people. For a moment, all the talking stopped, and then resumed. Although Raissa couldn’t hear much of the conversation, she knew everyone was now looking at her and commenting. Although she was invisible under her hood, she blushed in humiliation. She wanted to run away, but what could she do, blind and dressed as she was?
Again she was led forward, and then her back was placed against a surface. Someone pulled at her legs, indicating that she had to spread them. Then she felt rope being tied around them and they were pulled towards the surface behind her. More rope was tied above and below her breasts, and she realized she was standing against some kind of pillar and she was being tied to it. Raissa’s legs and body were immobile now, only her arms were still free, but they were up next. Raissa’s hands were pulled forward and turned with the palms up – well, the palms of the Glosssuit’s attached mittens, of course. Handcuffs were locked around her wrists. The handcuffs were connected with a bar, keeping her hands about 30 centimeters apart. A similar set of cuffs was attached around her elbows, so she could no longer bend her arms. A final spreader bar was attached between the bar keeping her hands apart and a belt that was attached around her hips. Although Raissa couldn’t see the way she was restricted, the end result was clear: she was forced to keep her arms stretched forward.
And moments laters it became clear why, as a tray was placed on her lower arms and hands. She could hear the tinkling of glasses and the talking of people approaching her and walking away again, and she realized she had been turned into an absurd version of a waitress.
The evening dragged by. Every now and then, the tray in her hands and the bar between her hands and her body were removed, allowing her arms to hang down in front of her. But every time they were placed in the same position after a while. Twice someone untied her outer hood and looked at her face; the first one was a man with a grey beard, dressed in a suit. He just looked at her eyes, the sweaty bit of her face inside the tightly tied orange hood that was visible inside the Glossuit's hood, and the straps of the gag around her nose. He didn't say anything, he just looked at her for a while and then shut the hood again.
The second time it was a woman in a tight black dress and elbow-length gloves. She smiled coolly at Raissa.
“Look at this little down slut,” she said. “Are you warm enough in there? I see you’re wearing another down jacket under your suit. That’s good, I wouldn’t want you to get cold.” She reached into the hood opening and brushed the bridge of Raissa’s nose with one gloved finger. “I think it’s time you get to move around a bit. Would you like to be untied?” Raissa made what little sound she could past her gag and hoods. “I don’t know if that was a yes or a no, but I’ll decide it was a yes.”
The woman tied Raissa’s hood shut again. Moments later Raissa felt her bonds being removed. Then she was led up a couple of stairs, apparently on some kind of platform. The people in the room became quiet. Then Raissa heard the voice of the woman with the black gloves. “Dear guests, thank you all for coming here tonight. I hope you’re having a good time. Our little down slut here, who has so nicely and quietly provided us with drinks tonight, will provide a little entertainment before she leaves. May I ask you all to move to the sides of the room and clear the middle?” There was the noise of movement and talking, then quiet again. “Thank you. Now, down slut.” Raissa’s outer hood was opened again. Raissa caught a glimpse of the room and the people in it, but the woman blocked most of her vision. She was holding up a white ping-pong ball. “I will throw this ball somewhere in the room. You will be free to leave as soon as you have found it.” Then the woman closed Raissa’s hood again, and helped her descend the steps of the platform.
“There you go. Find the ball and you can go home,” the woman said. For a moment, Raissa didn’t know what to do. Then she carefully went down on her knees and started crawling around the room, blindly groping with her mittened hands and hoping she would feel the light ball. The people were cheering and shouting advice, but whether they were helping her or leading her astray, Raissa didn’t know. Of course, it was entirely possible that they would move the ball if she came too close. But the crowd had fun. From the cheering she knew when she was close, but several times she apparently knocked the ball away instead of grabbing it. Eventually, they cheered loudly when she got the ball and stood up again.
After that, she was led out. Still blind, she knew from the sound of her Moonboots on gravel that she was outside. She heard the gate open and she was led through. Then her leash was removed and her hood was opened again. Raissa saw the rubber-clad, hobbled and ball-gagged maid close the gate and return towards the house.
Raissa made her way back to the bus stop, but judging from the lack of traffic, it was night already, so there would be no bus. Slowly, she started the long walk back to Francesca’s house, hoping Francesca would be free.
EPILOGUE
It had been near morning when Raissa had finally reached Francesca's house. Fran had been free. She said someone had removed the chains and let her out of the sleeping bag. A man had told her to wait for her friend Raissa, who was outside in her other Glosssuit. Then he had unlocked the Glosssuit. By the time she got it off, he was gone.
Now it was two weeks after Raissa’s fateful quest. Raissa was at Francesca’s place while Fran was having one of her ‘sessions’ again, tied up in her Glosssuit. She’d had no time for dinner so she went down in the basement, where the freezer stood, to look for a pizza. The basement was mostly dark. Only a single weak lightbulb at the roof illuminated it. Then something attracted her attention. In a corner of the basement lay a blanket, and a small bit of black nylon stuck out under it. It triggered something in Raissa’s mind. Frowning, she stared at it, wondering what it made her think of. Then she had a vivid memory of a person in a black down jacket in a badly lit room. She pulled the blanket away.
A black down jacket. A black balaclava. Black gloves.
And something even more remarkable: an inflatable doll, with a dictaphone taped to its head. Raissa pressed the play button and heard struggling noises and the sound of someone trying to speak while gagged. The truth dawned on her. The person in the black jacket was Francesca. She hadn’t been inside the bag – the doll had been there.
Raissa rushed upstairs to confront Francesca. Francesca, who lay there tied up in the Glosssuit…. She stopped. Wasn’t Francesca entirely at her mercy already? Couldn’t Raissa do what she wanted to her?
Raissa smiled, but it was a grim and humorless smile. It was time for Raissa’s Revenge.
Overview
