Trisha part 3, straitjacket and plug

Jan 4

Linda looped the long strap that came from the neck of the straitjacket over my elbows, and tucked it through a loop on my abdomen. She pulled it taut, securing my elbows together in front. Linda pulled the strap between my legs and over the plug, holding it in place. I enjoyed the brief female touch down there, but I could tell that this was just for the photo shoot. Sadly, she didn’t enjoy it as much as I did. She cinched the crotch strap snug, driving the pony plug in a bit deeper.

dildo

Dave was getting set for his Halloween update. I agreed to be dressed as a crazy lady, walking through crowded downtown San Francisco. It was close enough to Halloween that people should understand. The gig gets me out of my lonely house for a day, away from the collection calls.

I drove to Dave and Linda’s, and undressed in their guest bedroom. They started with a red butt-plug that had a long brown horse tail streaming out of the flange. At a glance, the horse tail matched my hair color. I wondered if that was intentional. I lubed it up for the camera, and slowly, carefully slid it home. For someone who had no interest in penises, I was getting to be an old hand at shoving rubber ones up my rear. Was having someone tape me putting a dick up my ass what my life had degraded into? Sadly, it was, but it was marginally better than being broke and alone. I panted as I slid the plug in, feeling it fill my insides. I gratefully sighed as my sphincter gripped the neck of the plug, sucking it the rest of the way in. I stood, tail dangling from my butt to between my knees.

The next item in the costume was the canvas straitjacket. I held out my arms as Linda pulled it over me, buckling it securely in back in four places. At Dave’s direction, I folded my arms across my front in the classic self-hug of straitjacketing. Linda looped the long strap that came from the neck of the straitjacket over my elbows, and tucked it through a loop on my abdomen. She pulled it taut, securing my elbows together in front. Linda pulled the strap between my legs and over the plug, holding it in place. I enjoyed the brief female touch down there, but I could tell that this was just for the photo shoot. Sadly, she didn’t enjoy it as much as I did. She cinched the crotch strap snug, driving the pony plug in a bit deeper.

Circling around back, Linda took hold of the straps trailing from the straitjacket arms, and pulled my arms taut, buckling them behind me. I lightly pulled on my arms, and clearly understood I would be hugging myself for the foreseeable future. I wouldn’t normally walk the streets of San Francisco like this, but I trusted Dave and Linda, and I really needed the money.

Linda held out a pink fluffy ballerina tutu, full of frills and a hint of glitter. I stepped into it, and she pulled it up, threading the horse tail out through a hole in the rear of the tutu, so the tail was clearly coming from my butt. She fastened the clasp around my waist. Such a simple clasp, yet there was no way I could reach it.

In another minute, I was outfitted with the rest of my outfit – swim goggles for my eyes, a tiara for my head, and some footwear – fuzzy bunny slippers. As I walked down the stairs I was amazed this is what they will pay a model to do in California, and just as amazed at what I would do in the desperation for money that my life had become.

Bootsy and Jacka, Dave and Linda’s cats chased each other, running down the stairs between my legs. I stumbled in surprise, trying not to step on them as they raced on. I reached for the railing to catch myself, but the straitjacket held firm as I tumbled down the stairs. A loud “Crack!” rang out as I sprawled to a stop.

Dave and Linda came running. “Are you OK?”

“I don’t think so.” I whimpered. My eyes were still tumbling. I looked down at my left leg, and saw my shin bent at an angle it never should. I had no doubt that I needed to see a doctor.

Linda carefully helped me sit on a step, and started to strip off all the fetish attire. Dave helped her, but he seemed fearful, scared to touch me. Men! I’m laying here in a pile of pain from my leg, and Mr. Tough Guy is afraid of me, as if a broken leg is contagious!

I looked down at the tiara, broken in half on the landing. Glitter had scattered across the floor. It was symbolic of my life. It could be so great, so wonderful. Others can make it so pretty, but for me, it is trash to be trampled underfoot.

Linda carefully helped me to my good foot, and finished getting me dressed in my normal attire before we headed to the hospital.

An hour later, I had been admitted to the hospital, and got the bad news. The break wasn’t clean. I would need surgery tomorrow put pins and a plate in my leg.

I started blathering at Dave and Linda, pouring my heart out, “I really don’t know what I’m going to do, since I don’t have the money to pay rent or utilities, much less some a hospital bill, and without being able to work, I’m going to be thrown out into the street anyway, because the collectors keep calling, so I don’t know…”

Dave cut me off. In hindsight, it was a good thing. I was already sounding pathetic in a run-on sentence that would have made any of my teachers cringe. With time, it would have only gotten worse.

Dave said, “Tell you what. I’m willing to take care of you. You can live at our place for a while, and if you sign over power of attorney to me, I can see about getting you some employment, and talk to your creditors about debt reduction and consolidation.”

Less than an hour later, we had talked it over some details, and I had signed the necessary documents, putting trust in Dave like I never trusted anyone before. I felt like those trust tests where you close your eyes and fall forward, trusting your partner will catch you before you drive your nose into the floor. I was already falling face first, now I at least had someone who said they would catch me. I fell down into a deep slumber.

When I woke up from the surgery I was as groggy as the doctors said that I would be. Through the haze, I had a dull ache in my leg, and my chest didn’t feel right either. I looked around the room, and Dave and Linda were chatting to each other. They came over as I came to. “How are you feeling?”

“I have a dull ache in my leg and chest, but it feels so distant.”

Dave stammered a bit. “Well…since you were going under anesthesia anyway, I decided that some more could be done. Two birds with one stone you might say. I saved a lot of money when I had them enhance your bust a bit at the same time.”

I woke up fast with that news. “What? Enhanced my bust? I was a C cup!”

“Well, you’re now a DD. I’m your manager. We’ll get you new bras and stuff; take care of the costs. Consider it an investment in your future.”

I looked down. My boobs now popped out of my chest like a display of sexuality that bordered on obscene. They were part of me now, under my skin. I was unable to do much about it now. I had to have faith in Dave and Linda, I had nobody else left.

Dave, Linda and I talked for the next few hours. It wasn’t said, but I understood that I trusted Dave to catch me. This is how he chose to do it, and my nose hasn’t hit the pavement yet. Yes, my breasts were prominent, a bit noticeable for my thin frame, but I would see if they helped. My life wasn’t going well before. Dave clearly thought bigger breasts would help. For better or worse, he wasn’t the one that had to haul them around. I became hopeful that perhaps I had hit bottom, and perhaps bigger boobs was now going to bring my life into an upswing. I now looked forward to a new phase of my life with something I hadn’t had enough in the past few months – I had hope.

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