And once my mother and I went to visit Russia. Her relatives lived in Leningrad. These relatives had a daughter who studied in the tenth grade. We sat at the table when this Anya returned from school, as it is called there. Taking off her coat, she entered the room, and I saw that she was wearing a black cloth apron over her brown dress.

I already knew how to control my emotions, but it was worth a lot of effort to restrain me. And this Anya calmly sat down at the table and began to eat. Her mother advised her to go to her room to change clothes, but Anya waved away. Then, when I had to wash the dishes, she, to my great surprise, put another apron on top of her uniform.

Now I do not remember what we were talking about. And they said at all. But the theme of clothing did not even touch on. And when a week later we were already flying in an airplane, my mother said that when I looked at Anya, especially when she was in school uniform, my eyes were crazy. I just shrugged.

And now they want to wear an apron on me. I screamed and shook my head, but the girl only laughed, and then said sternly:

- Stop howl, slave! I know that you do not like, but you will wear! And nobody here asks for your opinion!

With these words, she put a strap around my neck and, straightening the apron, tightly tied it around my waist. I felt dizzy, and I almost lost consciousness, but the “Black” lightly lashed my cheek and just grinned.

Leaving me standing, she pushed aside the black blanket covering the recess for the hands, spread some white short sheet on the stove bench and helped me to lie down. When my hands drowned in this notch, I lost the opportunity to move, and for some reason the girl swaddled me with this sheet, leaving my protruding breasts uncovered, which the apron breastplate tightly adhered to. Then, she pulled another bag over me, only freer. This bag had no pockets, but I noticed a huge hood.

Raising my head, I saw that this girl was stretching a small bag on my legs.

- Almost all! - she said triumphantly, - It remains only to tie.

With these words, she pierced the belt loop into the hole from the bottom, threw it onto her legs and pulled it somewhere below. Then she fastened the collar, pushing a thin leash into the hole in the heads of this hellish bed, and fixed it somewhere below. With straps that hung from the couch, she grabbed me at the waist and pulled them tight.

“Lie down and rest,” said the girl, throwing a hood over my head and tying it around my neck, “You have nothing to look at for anything.” And in order not to be completely bored, I prepared for you entertainment. Gags in your panties, I smeared with a special ointment. Soon she will begin to act.

I found myself in total darkness, immobilized and unable to speak. And the one consciousness that this damned apron was on me caused me to burst into tears.

Soon I began to feel those “joys” that “Black” was talking about. Both my holes began to itch, but it was not scab. The ointment, as it soaked in, excited me, now rolling up in waves, now calming down, as if giving a break. But each time, with each wave, the itch became stronger, and the breaks were shorter. Soon the breaks completely disappeared, merging into one intolerable itch. He spread through the body, not giving to forget, to turn away. My breathing became deeper, my breasts tightened, and my nipples became more sensitive and with each breath rubbed on the breastplate of an apron, even more irritated. Then I noticed another nuisance: the breastplate, like the whole apron, was sewn from oilcloth, the reverse side of which was rough, which only added imperfections.

The excitement grew, the itching became unbearable. Not being able to move, I could not change the position of my body, and this had a strong effect on consciousness. Do all the ten days of quarantine really persecute me? I thought I could not bear this torture. I moaned and writhed in that damned rubber, tangled up my arms and legs and with my mouth shut.

The pear that played the role of the gag crushed my tongue, drooling flowed down my cheeks, forming a nasty slippery swamp under my helmet, which I could not get rid of. Tears of despair flooded his eyes, which already could not see anything because of the hood that was put on his head. I didn’t even know whether it was day or night.

But gradually the itching began to subside, the arousal weakened. The body, which had become sticky with cold sweat, gradually relaxed. This "joy" sucked all the remaining strength out of me, and I fell into a hard, agonizing sleep.

- Wake up, slave! - someone shook my shoulder.

I barely opened my eyes. There was no hood on my head, and I was able to see those who woke me up. In other matters, I did not see anyone new. In front of my “Procrustean Lodge” were the same girls who identified me here. For some reason they smiled, though, I really had no time for laughter.

- How did you sleep? - black smile, asked "Black".

I would tell her a couple of compliments if they had opened my mouth, but in response I could only mumble softly.

“This is prevention,” Red said, “For your reference.” The next time, if you are guilty, the effect will be stronger, and in your pretty little holes there will be not simple plugs, but vibrators. Then you will understand how to behave a slave.

- Stop scaring! - pushed her in the side "Black", - She's a smart girl! We assume that the first lesson she learned and will be obedient.

“We'll see,” drawled the Redhead.

Exchanging glances, they set to work. Having unfastened them from the couch, they deftly unwrapped me, freed me from bags and apron, untied my legs and pulled off my panties, which by this time had become wet from the discharge, and led to the toilet. There, the girls washed me, wiped me, and gave me time to empty. Then washed and wiped with a soft towel. Hands remained tied and mouth shut. But they took off the faceplate and the helmet and rubbed my face, freeing myself from dried-up saliva and tears.

I felt much better and even tried to smile as a sign of gratitude. The girls noticed it and smiled too. But it seemed to me that the smiles were not sincere, but rather protocol.

The “nannies”, against my expectations, tied me up again and pulled the bottom bag and, of course, this nasty oilcloth apron, which made me feel worse right away. They did not put on the top bag, but pulled a small bag over their legs. Having laid me on a sunbed, they tied my legs to him, but they did not fix my neck. The “black” nanny raised me by the shoulders and sat behind me, supporting me in a half-sitting position. The Redhead pulled out a small table from somewhere and put it in front of me on my bed. Do not rush, she put on him an aluminum bowl of porridge and a glass with something bright red. Nearby she laid a spoon and handed a large cloth napkin to her partner, which she immediately laid behind the breastplate of my apron. By the way, this bib with its neck straps was raised almost to the chin, so the napkin fully fulfilled its functions.

Gently pulling the plug out of her mouth, “Redhead” dabbed her lips with a napkin and gave me a little to drink. After that, I started feeding me with a spoon, patiently waiting for me to swallow another batch. The girl behind my back also did not sit idle. From time to time she promakivala my lips, and between this occupation stroked my breasts, caressing her nipples, from the night, remained in an excited state. I can not say that I liked it very much, but in any case, it did not bother.

Porridge, which I was fed, was unresponsive, even delicious, so I ate it all. I got drunk red liquid, turned out to be cranberry juice.

Having finished feeding, “Redhead” put another bowl in front of me and brought a mug of smelling mint liquid to her mouth.

- Rinse! - she ordered and pressed ... Read more →