Dark Days (Written Pictures #2) by H. A. Kotys

smoked hew to it and as Raven shook it out, the garment was released from itself and four thin, limb-shaped appendages flopped out and hung down.
     
    Standing adorned by just seven steel rings, Raven paused. There was no way it would go under them. As if reading her mind, the explanation was given. “They will be underneath. You will always wear them now, girl, always wear them.”
     
    With that echoing in her mind, Raven slowly turned the garment over. There was the zip, just as expected yet it seemingly stopped at the neck from which a hood sprouted.
     
    “Get on with it!” The punched exhortation compelled her to act. Lifting her left leg, Raven thrust it down into a limb of the stretchy material, her hair hanging down to veil the flush in her cheeks that flourished equally from embarrassment and anticipation.
     
    She had always loved this part. The promise was pure eroticism as first a foot, then an ankle, then a calf were embraced in a clinging, latex grip.
     
    Bending, she gathered the bottom of the latex tube, readying it for the final thrust of her foot past the narrowing of the ankle and into the attached sock, oblivious to her audience that had found a renewed focus at the twisting and straining of her body.
     
    With a grunt, her left foot punched through into the tight sock before the process was repeated with the right, trapping both the metal bands against her skin under the cloying rubber. They were as much a part of her now as were her feet that felt the delicious grip of latex, sealed as they were beneath the garment she drew onto her body.
     
    She had always joked that you needed to be toned just to get a good-fitting catsuit on and this one was no exception, her muscles rippling while she tugged the garment inexorably up long legs, pausing only until the stab of pain in her wounded shoulder died down. Appreciative though they were, this was a workout with an audience she could have gladly done without. The accompanying sounds were more concerning than complimentary, even though she knew how good the show she was putting on must be.
     
    And so, steeling herself, Raven continued to dress for them. Past her knees, the outfit slithered up her thighs, coating the length of her legs in a shining skin of smoky rubber. With a shimmy of her hips, the split back nudged the underside of her bottom while the zipless front hung down lifeless.
     
    Sucking in her toned tummy and arching her spine, Raven wiggled the clinging catsuit slowly higher. “Now comes the difficult part girl, let me help.” The small woman confidently stepped straight into Raven’s personal space, taking the front of the garment in hand.
     
    She was close enough now for Raven to see the hard life that had etched itself into the woman’s face in detail. Statuesque, classic beauty stood silently before industrial functionality. A brief pause then Raven was violated afresh, breaking a personal promise that touches would always be on her terms or nothing.
     
    “Good girl for Natalia,” purred the woman as fingers slithered between Raven’s legs to sample the heat that lay within. Looking up with grey eyes, their ice betrayed the false smile that spread across her thin lips.
     
    The first frisson of thrill shot from the invasive fingers and careered around Raven’s body and soul as her core muscles clenched in response and a grunt escaped her lips. God how she needed to be touched as gently as this woman was touching her. Looking down at the woman’s poorly dyed hair, it was all she could do to stop herself stretching just that little further to kiss the black roots in thanks for just that split second of tenderness in an otherwise torturous sea.
     
    Raven’s head spun as she tried to reconcile feelings. They had no place in her current world. The spell was broken when a firm grip on the catsuit allowed the small woman to stretch the previously billowed rubber out taught, tugging the still stooped Raven forward into two