Dropping the suitcase onto her bed, Maddy admired her find. She had always loved vintage things and how they stood out from the crowd of sleek, modern items lining shop shelves and internet pages. They seemed out of place in all the best ways. As such, she had been attracted to them for as long as she could remember. Charity shops were always a good (and affordable) place to start. Of all the little treasures she had discovered, however, she had to say the suitcase was possibly her best find yet.
It was a canvas thing, colourful without being garish, complete with brass metal fittings plus edges and handle done up in glossy dark leather. Set into the face there was a small brass dome engraved with a symbol she had not seen before, which only added to the beguiling beauty of the case.
She hoped Gabe liked it. They had been talking about going abroad for ages now, but something always seemed to get in the way. Finally it seemed like they were going to have the chance at a holiday – albeit short – and Maddy hoped the new case helped get the ball rolling. After all, there was no use to a case that was never going to get used.
Just then, an idea popped into her head. Her husband would be home soon, but she should still have enough time to pack up a few holiday essentials – sunglasses, sandals, that sort of thing. When he finished work he would find the suitcase already half-packed, then they could add things over the weeks until they finally went away.
Cute, she thought.
Reaching for the case, the symbol on the front suddenly flared white. In the charity shop she had been unable to open the case, though it was clearly sturdy and in good condition so she had taken it anyway. A jammed zip was hardly surprising given the age of the case, but she had been sure she could get it open. Besides, for less than a fiver it would hardly break the bank if she couldn’t. Now, however, the zips moved with a mind of their own, scything around the edges until the case was fully open.
Frowning, Maddy lifted the front. To her surprise the case was not empty as she had expected. Instead she found two passports, a pair of plane tickets, a small notebook and a sheet of paper nestled in the bottom. Lifting them out she spread them over her bedsheets and closed the suitcase lid.
The first thing that caught her eye were the plane tickets. The destination was somewhere she had never heard of before and, strangely, they appeared brand new. In fact, analysing them closer, she found the flight was just a week away. Unfolding the paper, she realised it was a booking confirmation sheet. Though she made no attempt to pronounce the hotel’s name, the check-in date aligned with the flights and a small picture in the corner showed a darkened foyer done up in red, black and chains.
Flicking through the notebook she found it was actually an address book, filled with page after page of contact details. Not that she fancied contacting any of the listed individuals – not with names like Madame Scream and Mistress Chastity. A handful of the pages were complete with thumbnail pictures. Invariably women, every last one was an imposing, intimidating figure.
Finally, Maddy flicked through the passports. One was for an athletic yet timid looking man, while the other was for a stern-faced woman with sleek black hair and a stare that could put Medusa to shame. She went by the name of Madison.
Confused, Maddy pondered her discovery. It seemed obvious that the previous owner had been a particularly kinky sort, what with an address book full of dominatrices, bookings to a kinky hotel and the natural appearance of a woman who looked like she could get what she wanted either through temptation or torture. She supposed the woman must have been a connoisseur of vintage items too. But what she could not understand was how they had come to be in the case in the first place. According to the kindly old woman at the charity shop the suitcase had been donated months ago. Why would anyone donate it having emptied it of everything besides all they would need to reach their destination?
Had there only been one thing in the case she might have understood, but passports, flight tickets and hotel booking confirmation all left inside was just bizarre. Not to mention that the address book was visibly aged and appeared well-used. It must have been valuable to the previous owner given how chock full it was, so why would they leave that in the case as well?
Again the symbol on the case flared white, dragging her from her thoughts. By now slightly unnerved, Maddy dared to flip open the lid and gasped.
That wasn’t there before.
Folded neatly in the bottom of the case was a black latex corset and matching leggings. Laid atop them was a pair of long, latex gloves and a glossy collar. Shocked as she was, Maddy’s natural curiosity was too strong to resist and she reached into the case. Before she could lay her hands on the outfit, however, it seemed to sense her and leapt out to latch onto her body.
Falling back onto the bedsheets, Maddy cried out as the latex crawled over her body, squeaking as it squirmed and shifted with a life of its own. In seconds the gloves had worked themselves onto her arms, a thrill of unexpected excitement zipping through her as they reached their full length. Though she thrashed her legs desperately to try and kick them away, the leggings soon found purchase over her toes. Rolling relentlessly up her legs they squeezed over her hips and snapped into place around her waist. The sudden tightness around her thighs and groin bought with it the same shudder of delight the gloves had, and there was more to come. In a blur of motion the collar looped around her neck, connecting itself to her gloves with thin latex straps. Panic and passion wrestling through her mind she clawed at her neck with her gloved hands to no avail. With her arms raised, the corset had full access to her torso, and she gasped as it crushed around her ribs, closed over her breasts.
As quickly as it had animated the latex fell still leaving Maddy panting on the bed. Unable to process what had just happened, she tried to focus on staying calm, a difficult task given how foreign her body felt. She felt strangely claustrophobic, though in a good way, as if the constricting outfit had dialled every sense to eleven and was flooding her body with erotic sensitivity. She could feel the latex on her skin, cool and tight, and though she didn’t know how she knew she was certain it had consumed the clothes she had been wearing before. Despite herself she could feel how damp her pussy was, a small voice urging her to rub it.
Standing up, Maddy caught a look at herself in the mirror and screamed.
Her mousy brown hair was gone, replaced by sleek cascades of black that swept down past her shoulders. Her eyebrows were raised in thin arcs that only accentuated the keen stare of her smoky eyes, eyes that looked capable of turning a man to stone. Her lips were fuller, forming a bright slash of red over her pale features, while the rest of her body had undergone changes too. Somehow Maddy was taller, fitter, heavier in the chest and had even acquired a tattoo across her left shoulder.
The hair, the face, the fatal stare. She was the splitting image of the woman on the passport. Before she could panic, however, a change came over her. Seeing her new reflection catalysed a sudden shift, drawing a cold smile over her crimson lips. This time she did run her hands over her curves, savouring the thrill of latex on her skin.
‘Madison,’ she moaned softly. ‘I think I need another name, though. A name for pathetic men to scream as I strip them of their masculinity. Madame… Madame…’ she huffed with irritation, ‘Madame what?’
Just then the suitcase symbol glowed again. Slinking over to the case she flipped open the lid and smirked. Lifting the red and black flogger from inside she swung it through the air in faux strikes. The flails whirred satisfyingly and she could imagine the screams of a pathetic slave as the cords hit home.
‘I think Madame Anguish will do nicely.’
Under the flogger there was something else. A latex gimp mask and a matching outfit.
Just then Madison heard the front door open and close.
‘You in, babe?’ her husband called.
Taking up the mask and outfit she strutted across to the bedroom door. Laying out the outfit on the floor just in front of the doorway she stood to the side just out of sight clutching the mask, ready to pounce. ‘I’m in the bedroom. Could you come here a second sweetie? I’ve got something to show you.’
Madame Anguish’s moans echoed from the walls as her slave’s tongue delved into her wet pussy obediently. One of the hotel’s many roleplay rooms, it was done up in the image of a scientist’s laboratory with everything pristinely white. Their holiday was going incredibly well: only a day in and she had already added half a dozen new names to the address book of playmates, she had rented Gimp out to one of the other guests for a handsome fee and they had tickets to a VIP sex show to fill their night tonight.
All thanks to the suitcase, of course. She could not wait to see what else it had in store for her. Already it had given her a stylish phone installed with dozens of apps connected to remote control toys for her to torture Gimp with, thousands in cash for her to pamper and treat herself, and a guidebook to the best kinky venues throughout the city. She could not begin to fathom what might come next.
There was one more thing the suitcase had given her.
‘You’ll never guess what I found in the case while you were in Mistress Troy’s cage,’ she said, reaching around to pull Gimp’s face in further. ‘A set of house keys and an address. I looked it up and it was a mansion used to film femdom porn. It still has everything in too: dungeons, toys, cages, everything! And it’s ours now. Well, it’s mine. You’ve got to earn your place there. If I don’t think you’ve been good enough by the end of the holiday I’ll be selling you to one of the lovely ladies here and finding a new toy to play with. Do I make myself clear?’
She heard his gasp of panic and she laughed coldly as he doubled his efforts to please, lapping at her sex with outright desperation. Reaching over to the table beside her, she slipped her fingers around a huge black strap-on…
Thanks for reading!
I love, love, love this story. I often find that stories including something vaguely related to me are the ones closest to my heart and I absolutely love both vintage items and charity shop shopping. This is one of those stories that was inspired by what most people would consider a fairly mundane activity, first sparking to life after a day out charity shop shopping. The idea of finding a naughty, magic item like this that somebody else had abandoned was just too hot to pass up.
Even better, I managed to include the divine Cybill Troy in this piece, which is never a bad thing. I’ve followed her work for a while now and it is always a thrill to be able to share her incredible work with people who may not have heard of her before. She is a force of nature and I highly recommend checking out her work on her PornHub profile here: https://www.pornhub.com/users/cybill_troy. Alternatively, if you would prefer serving her personally you can find the details of that on her website here: http://www.cybilltroy.com/, however at the time of this posting her sessions are currently on hold, so you will have to wait until they resume if you want to serve her in person.
I would like to thank Victoria Hyde, who is one of my Twitter followers, for bringing to my attention the identity of the second dominatrix in this piece: Fetish Liza. I am personally unfamiliar with her work but from the snippets I have seen while trying to confirm it is her she looks to be an incredible creator and a very experienced dominatrix. She has worked alongside Troy in some scenes and if you like Troy’s work you’ll love Liza too. The scene from which this gif originates is Rubber Fetish Sex, produced for The English Mansion. Liza has her own website, which you can find here: https://fetishliza.com/ if you wish to access more of her work.
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