by Van ©2022
		Epilogue

Two weeks later, Eliza still hadn't been able to get Coco to sit still for an interview.  Her notes and preliminary questions were all set to go, but her subject was always "too busy, Tomboy."  And then there was the time her excuse was that "friends were coming over, Tomboy," friends who turned out to be three gorgeous, chatty old women of Coco and Pepper's advanced age (over fifty).  The biddies slurped tea in the garden or splashed around in the Vespini's pool.  They were all friendly, in good shape, and quite attractive, but they still ruined Eliza's chance to get her podcasts rolling on that particular day.

That said, the "old lady visit" had been fun.  The tea was served by Tippi, and the grumpy (for once) brunette was decked out in a traditional black and white maid's uniform, complete with lace cap, frilly apron, and too-short skirt (with frilly petticoats).  Pepper made her do it, of course, and Eliza found Tippi's domestic servitude to be highly entertaining.  She'd been allowed to participate in the hen party while fully dressed in one of Coco's prettiest sundresses, and later, in a really nice black tank-suit when the festivities moved into the pool.  Tippi had not been amused, nor was she invited to swim, but she was a dutiful maid... and she'd looked bloody damn cute in her sexy-maid outfit with her Lulu-bob indignantly swaying from side to side whenever the others weren't looking and she whipped her head around to glower at Eliza.

There were other excuses and wasted days, of course, like whenever Coco used Eliza to help her "develop" the installation for her next show by dragging her down to one of the basement rooms and binding, strapping, or chaining her in some hideous manner to a chair, table, between two posts, inside boxes (of various shapes), or in some other hideous manner.  How Eliza's tragic bondage martyrdom helped Coco's creative process wasn't clear, and the martyr in question would love to be able to discuss the topic with her, but Coco's response was always, "Later, Tomboy," or "Not now, Tomboy."

It was possible Coco wasn't actually stalling, but wanted to make sure Eliza and Tippi were comfortably settled into the mansion before they started the interviews.  And speaking of settling in, by prearrangement, one day Eliza got up before dawn and made the long round trip back to her apartment, with Pepper's smiling companionship and in a roomy van owned by the Vespinis.  She served notice to her landlord she was breaking her lease and moving out, then packed her modest belongings (with Pepper's assistance) for transport to the mansion.  Eliza had always believed in "living light."  Everything she owned fit into a cheap set of luggage and something like eight to ten cardboard boxes.  Anyway, they managed to cram everything into the van and return to the mansion only an hour after sunset.

Tippi was very glad to see them.  Coco had insisted on maintaining her policy of one guest being "sequestered in a secure location" whenever the other left the property.  Also, she'd sworn Tippi to secrecy as to exactly how and where she'd been "sequestered," so Eliza never learned what Coco did to her bestie (and where) while she made the moving trip.  Eliza assumed it was similar to her own sequestration in the mansion's secret subbasement when Tippi and Pepper had enjoyed their shopping and lunch trip earlier, but Eliza would like to know the details of Tippi's suffering.  She was curious.  It was one more minor frustration of life at Casa Vespini.

And speaking of mansion life...  Clothes!  Eliza and Tippi were granted the privilege of wearing actual clothing during the day... most of the time... when they weren't helping Coco with her "creative process."  However, it was still Coco's policy that the girls should strip naked whenever they exercised in the gym, swam in the pool, or participated in yoga sessions out on the lawn—even though the Vespinis practiced yoga in pretty black yoga-pants and tank-tops and wore black bikinis in the pool.  Anyway, otherwise, the girls were allowed to wear normal clothing like normal people.  And they found it was like riding a bicycle.  They got used to not being naked all the time right away.

And true to Pepper's promise to Tippi, the sisters had moved their young guests into a pair of very nice guest bedrooms with queen-size beds, drapes, curtains, carpeting, furniture, generous closets, etc.  They weren't at all like their former decidedly spartan rooms in the Patient Wing, nor were they dungeon cells with dangling chains and manacles attached to the walls and/or torture devices tucked in the corners.  Okay, the bedframes were unusually rock-solid in construction (with convenient but decorative lashing points) and both bedroom doors locked (from the outside only), and there were decorative bars on all the windows; but, as Pepper explained, the bars were there to "keep out the raccoons" and not to "keep in the damsels" (although they did).  Anyway, the girls agreed their new digs were a definite improvement.

Anyway... no interviews... yet.  And tomorrow didn't look like it would be any different.  Tomorrow it would be Tippi's turn to borrow the van and, with Pepper's assistance (and supervision), travel back to her apartment, break her lease, and pack up her stuff.  And Eliza was aware there was distinct possibility her partner and Pepper would have to spend the night and wouldn't return until the next day.  Tippi had all her sound equipment to pack up and Eliza was well aware that her bestie owned a lot more clothes than she did.

So... once again... it was Eliza's turn to be sequestered, and she might have to be hidden away for more than just a few hours.  It would be more like... a day and a half?  Another unique learning experience, no doubt, as well as valuable preparation for the podcasts, but she wasn't looking forward to it.

The sun was still dawning when Tippi and Pepper departed in the van.  Pepper was enjoying a breakfast of hot coffee, crispy bacon, eggs (over easy), and toast cooked by Eliza, and the grumpy, nervous Tomboy managed not to burn anything.  Eliza was naked (of course), except for a hunter-green cook's apron to keep the hot bacon grease from splattering her body.

And what did poor, naked, reluctantly submissive Eliza get for her breakfast?  A smile from Coco Vespini and nothing else, that's what!  It was infuriating.  Coco explained that she would be better off with an empty stomach... which wasn't at all ominous.

Anyway, Coco finished enjoying her delicious breakfast, then savored a final cup of coffee (which was also on the morning's list of forbidden pleasures for poor Eliza) and watched as her glowering young guest cleaned the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher.  Finally, Coco rose from her chair and cuffed Eliza's wrists behind her back with her old friends the shiny steel hinged handcuffs with natural rubber tubing padding.

Eliza was now naked, restrained, and helpless to resist as Coco dragged (led) her through the mansion to the Patient's Wing.  Oh, the bloody drama! she silently fumed.

To Eliza's surprise—NOT!—their immediate destination was a cell-like chamber on the secret side of the of the secret door/wall in the mansion's secret subbasement cleaning room.  Waiting in the depressing institutional-gray room was a large storage trunk and a gurney, one of those folding, well-padded, wheeled stretchers/beds used to trundle patients in and out of ambulances and/or hospitals... or in former insane asylums used by gloating villainesses to incarcerate naked damsels instead of granting them promised interviews, and for no good reason!  Anyway, Coco removed Eliza's cuffs, opened the trunk, and pulled out... a full-length, long-sleeve body-suit/stocking, with included hood, gloves, and booties!  It appeared to be made entirely of latex and was black and shiny!

"Really?" Eliza demanded.  "It's too small."

"Really," Coco confirmed, "and it stretches."  Was her smile infuriating?  Yes, Coco's smile was infuriating.  She returned to the open trunk and produced a small plastic bottle of Johnson's® Naturally Derived Cornstarch Baby Powder with Aloe and Vitamin E.  "This will help," she explained.

Eliza snatched the garment from Coco's hands, grumbling under her breath, and began the long, difficult, laborious process of pulling, stretching, and smoothing the latex envelope up and over her feet, legs, hips, and the rest of her.  And yes, the baby powder did help.  The horrible thing's booties had pockets for her big toes, and the gloves had five fingers each.  She had to rely on Coco to finish the job, of course.  There was no way Eliza would be able to zip up the zipper behind back or adequately tuck her blonde locks under the stupid hood without help, not while wearing the stupid, slippery gloves.  The hood was of the open-face variety, by the way.  Eliza's glowering face was left fully exposed.

The latex did, indeed, stretch, just as Coco had promised, and was surprisingly strong to be so thin.  The fit was tight.  In fact, it was the very definition of skintight.  Pokies and camel-toe?  Yes, Eliza was sporting a very prominent pair of pokies and a camel-toe, with a very friendly zipper running vertically up the middle!

Eliza stood in her shiny latex costume and stared daggers at Coco (simple throwing daggers with their hilts dipped in black latex).  Meanwhile Coco was using a soft cloth and a plastic spray bottle of some sort of clear liquid to give her a glossy finish from head to toe.  From the smell, the polish was alcohol based... with hint of lavender.

"There," Coco sighed as she returned the polish and powder trunk to the trunk.  "Aren't you a pretty picture?"

Eliza could have answered, but obviously the question was rhetorical.  Also, she was preoccupied watching Coco extract a second full-length body-suit from the trunk, but this one wasn't latex.  It was black leather, thick black leather, and festooned with thick, broad leather straps with rattling, double-tongued buckles.  Also, it had one leg, meaning the wearer's legs would be encased together in a single... sleeve?  Sock?  Whatever.  Also, instead of gloves, the wearer's hands would be balled into fists and encased in finger-less mitts!  Also, there was a lace-up corset built right into the thing's waist!  Also, a posture collar!  Also, an open-face hood with a lot of buckles for strapping who-knew-what and/or unknown attachments over her face!  Also, a lot of D-rings running up and down the sides! 

That was a lot of alsos, but it was a lot of suit!

"This suit and its venue were one of my earliest visions," Coco purred as she placed the suit on the gurney.  "I've improved and enhanced it over the years, but I've never used it for one of my public showings."  She took hold of Eliza's latex-clad hands and gave them a gentle squeeze.  "There are... intimate aspects to the suit, more so that with almost all of my installations."

Coco's familiar dimpled smile was present, but without a hint of gloating or wickedness.  And was it Eliza's imagination, or was she... blushing?

"If you allow me to share my vision with you, I think we'll be truly ready to begin our interviews."

Eliza realized her heart was hammering in her chest as she gazed at the suit... the suit waiting to swallow her whole.  Interviews!  Yippee!  Leather suit!  Scary!

"Once you experience my vision," Coco continued, "we'll be on rock solid common ground, only from opposite perspectives, which should be very interesting to discuss.  Are you willing to give it a try?"

Eliza swallowed nervously, but did not scowl.  The time for displays of feistiness and courage was past.  Coco's suit was... scary... terrifying.  Also... enticing?  Do I have what it takes? she wondered.  Can I handle it?  She knew Coco would never hurt her, meaning would never cause her physical harm, but... intimate?  What does she mean by intimate?  Is it what I think she means?

Coco stood at Eliza's side while she made up her mind.

Finally...  "Okay," Eliza said quietly.  "I'll give it a go."

Coco exhaled, then kissed Eliza on her lips.  "There's my brave Tomboy," she purred, then led Eliza to the gurney and the waiting leather.

Fitting Eliza into the suit was quite an involved process, even more involved than squeezing her into the latex bodysuit, but eventually Eliza found herself inside the leather sheath and wondering if she was certifiably insane for agreeing to what was happening to her!

While her legs were not yet inside the suit, and with surprising deftness, Coco unzipped the latex under-suit's crotch and inserted a catheter into Eliza's urethra... followed by a conical silicone rubber plug that went into her anus!  The catheter had attached tubing, but the butt-plug was just a plug.  Coco explained they were precautions, so Eliza could empty her bladder and to prevent her from making a mess.  She also explained that if she'd intended to have the session go more that, say, seventy-two hours, she'd have broken out the full-blown enema attachments, but that was a lot of trouble and the insert was pretty uncomfortable all the time... or so Pepper told her.

It was now bloody clear what Coco had meant by "intimate."

At that point, Eliza almost chickened out, but once the intrusive deeds were done, she figured she might as well carry on.  Also, it was already too late for Eliza to voice second thoughts.  Coco had already taken the precaution of plastering a strip of Elastoplast over her mouth, eliminating her ability to ask questions, lodge complaints, or formally cancel the project.  Also, Coco had inserted earbuds  into Eliza's ears, deadening ambient sound.

And then, Coco inserted something long, smooth, and possibly latex-covered into her vagina!  Whatever it was, it didn't interfere with the catheter, but it was big.  Not too big, but big.  Now the tape-gag made sense, Eliza decided.  I can't blow the proverbial whistle and call foul.  Eliza shivered in her already largely helpless state and heaved a tape-gagged sigh.  Well, Eliza mused, she did tell me the installation was 'intimate'... and it's too late now.

Finally, there were small, hard, doughnut-shaped inserts inside the leather suit's bra-cups.  Their central openings were just big enough to accommodate Eliza's latex-covered nipples.  Once the "pokie-pucks" were nestled into position, the remaining zipping, lacing, and strapping of poor, latex-and-leather-encased Eliza continued apace.

Eliza's latex-clad legs were, indeed, pressed tightly together, as she'd feared they would be, and the suit's heavy-duty vertical zipper was reinforced by straps around her ankles and just above her knees.  Once her hands and arms were inside the sleeves, integrated cuffs buckled around her wrists, enforcing the clenching of her latex-clad hands into fists.  There were similar cuffs that tightened around her upper arms, just above her elbows.  The corset section laced tight, enforcing the traditional (and ridiculous) Victorian/Edwardian hourglass figure, squeezing Eliza's waist.  A well-trained lady's maid would have approved—of the corset, anyway, but probably not the rest of Eliza's attire.  The suit's posture collar immobilized Eliza's neck and head, and the leather hood's buckles dangled menacingly around her anxious, tape-gagged face, but for the moment they went unused.

And then, Coco strapped Eliza to the gurney and wheeled her from the chamber.

Flat on her back, encased in latex and leather, tape-gagged, deafened by the earbuds and the latex and leather hoods, Eliza watched the overhead lights creep into view, flash past her face, and disappear, one after another, as she was trundled down the concrete corridor.

Their next destination was another chamber with a thick steel door, and inside, on the opposite wall was... another steel door, only this one was rounded at the top and bottom, like a watertight door in a ship.  Coco inserted her barrel-key and unlocked the oval door, swung it open, and it revealed itself to be quite thick, like an armored door on a battleship, and with the required heavy-duty hinges.  It fit into a beveled casing with a gasket of black rubber.  Without a doubt it was watertight, airtight, and everything-else-tight!  The door's inside surface was featureless—no knob, handle, latch, or keyhole—except for a small, round view port of thick glass, set more-or-less at eye level and no more than six-inches in diameter.  And array of LED lights were set in the ceiling, as well as a small vent emitting a stream of cold air.

Coco released the gurney-straps, eased Eliza off the padding, and dragged her into the inner chamber.  It was a tight fit for the two of them.  The chamber itself was a cylinder with a flat top and bottom, and looked like it might be more steel, like the thick oval door, and was painted a light shade of institutional gray.  Several steel chains dangling through steel-lined openings at various heights, and there was also a coiled, insulated wire with a screw-fitting, a hose coiled on the chamber's floor, and what was unmistakably a gasmask dangling from a flexible hose!

Jess-in-a-box, by Rubbermatt https://www.deviantart.com/rubbermatt

Coco began attaching ends of the dangling chains to the suit's "D"-rings with locking clamps.  She had a difficult time at first, clipping the upper chains with one hand while supporting Eliza with the other, but as she made progress, the chains supported more and more of Eliza's encased body and the task became progressively easier.  Soon, the final clip was locked to the "D"-ring at the tips of Eliza's joined feet, and Coco stepped back through the oval door and into the main chamber.

Coco smiled, produced her iPhone, tapped and slid her way to a menu, then pressed a final button.

Eliza couldn't hear anything and continued thrashing weakly, squirming and twisting her latex and leather encased body.  She was more-or-less upright and flopping from side to side until she was checked by one or more of the slack chains... then... she realized the chains weren't so slack anymore... and were getting less slack by the second!  And soon, they were well on their way to becoming taut!  And then they were taut!  Eliza was now suspended in midair, pinned in a web of rigid steel chains at the top of her head, to either side of her posture collar, her elbows (which were separated by about a foot of rigid steel links behind her back), her hips, knees, ankles, and the tip of her now permanently pointing feet!

The tightly encased captive found she could barely wiggle, much less squirm.  "Mrrrrm!" she complained.  Suddenly, a click sounded in both ears, followed by Coco's voice as she spoke into her phone.

"There," Coco purred, "the motors are powered down and the gears locked.  It's horrible, isn't it?  Or so Pepper tells me."

Eliza could see Coco was really enjoying herself, reveling in her complete control of Poor Eliza the Helpless Damsel, gloating like crazy, and there was nothing Eliza could do about it, either to free herself, or even glare at her tormentor.  Tomboy found she was too scared to be able to even pretend outrage.  She was fresh out of imaginary visual daggers.  Eliza couldn't summon her former feistiness no matter how hard she tried.

"Well," Coco said after a few seconds of gloating, "time to button you up."

Eliza blinked in alarm and mewled through her tape-gag—"Mrmpfh!"—as Coco stepped back into the chamber, grabbed a corner of the tape-gag, and slowly, carefully peeled it away.  As soon as she was able, Eliza complained.  "Mrrrf!—Coco!—Nrrr!"  Coco had gagged her again, this time with her lips and tongue!

That's right, it was a kiss-gag!  Coco was up on her toes and giving her captive a long, wet kiss, with tongue!  And then—"Mrrr-Coco!—MRRRhhh!"—Coco's tongue was replaced by the mouth-filling plug of black silicon-rubber built into the dangling gasmask!  And the mouth-filling plug had integrated double-bite-protectors!  "Nrmpfh!"  And once Eliza's teeth snapped into the semicircular slots, the insidious thing more-or-less filled her mouth to capacity!  "Mrp!"

And that wasn't all!  The gasmask had a glass face-plate, but also a face-plate-shaped, taut, opaque cover of black leather that snapped into place!  Coco finished tightening the gasmask's many straps... and Eliza found herself truly encased, and in total darkness!  "Mrrr!"  Fortunately (and by Coco's careful and cunning design) she could breath, both through her nose and mouth.  Eliza could tell air was whistling through some sort of opening in the mouth-plug.  And then, she sensed, rather than heard the chamber's oval door clang shut!  "NRRR!"

Helplessness was redefined!  Eliza was completely in Coco's power, more so than she'd ever been before... and that was saying something!

"I'm really proud of this installation," Coco's voice sounded in Eliza's ears.  Apparently, she was speaking into her iPhone again.  "I've enhanced it over the years.  A coding friend of mine wrote me a program that turns the nipple and/or pussy vibrators off and on at random intervals for random durations, at low power, of course.  It's not enough to bring the subject, meaning you, Tomboy, to orgasm, but you'll know when it's happening.  Pepper tells me it's quite effective erotic frustration."

Eliza could almost see Coco's gloating, dimpled smile floating in the darkness.  So far, nothing was vibrating, but she knew the pokie-pucks and pussy-intruder had to be there for a reason.

"I have other improvements in mind," Coco continued, "like electrifying the butt-plug, placing electro-stim contacts at strategic points, and replacing the nipple vibrators with sucking nipple vibrators, "but I've never gotten around to it.  Adding intermittent electrical torment to the erotic teasing program would be a definite improvement, as I'm sure you agree."

No, no, Eliza did not agree!  "Nrrrmfh!"

"Finally, there's subliminal conditioning," Coco purred.  "I've recorded a continuous message that reminds you how much you enjoy being my slave and repeatedly reminds you of all the rules, like total obedience, speaking only when spoken to, cumming only when given explicit permission... all that submissive stuff.  I haven't decided whether I'm going to use it on you or not, Tomboy, but if you hear my voice droning just at the limit of your hearing, that'll mean I decided to give it a go."

Eliza knew Coco was joking, of course.  She had to be.  Right?  Right??

"Well... see you when Tippi and Pepper get back.  It'll be after I help them unpack the van and move all of Tippi's stuff into her room, of course.  Ciao, Tomboy."  Click!

And that was it.  Alone in the close darkness of the cylindrical cell, locked behind a thick steel door, pinned in a taut web of chain, cocooned in latex and leather, and dependent on the air rhythmically flowing into and out of the gasmask with mechanical regularity, Eliza began her ordeal.  While she waited to see if Coco had been serious about the intermittent buzzing of the alleged vibrators lodged in her pussy and pressed against her boobs, Eliza reviewed and revised the questions she intended to ask when she was finally released and Coco finally sat still long enough for her first interview.

It was either that or go slowly insane.  Maybe she'd do that later.

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Chapter 10

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