THE MISSION

Focus. That's the key. No matter what's going on around you, you have to keep your focus. And that's just what I was doing. A band of terrorists had kidnapped the daughter of the president and it was my job to get her back. But, first, I had to find out where they were holding her. And, for that, the chief weapon at my disposal was seduction. I was tasked with capturing a wealthy banker who was known to have connections inside the terrorist organisational structure.

And that was why I was walking along in the cold and dark, my path illuminated by streetlamps and passing car headlights. And that was why I was keeping my focus. I didn't want to be distracted from the most important mission of my life.

My superiors had told me when I accepted the mission that my target, a Mr George Johnson, was heavily into bondage. And that would be the key to my success. I was posing as a prostitute, and he would not think that anything was wrong if I tied him up. And then all I would have to do was take him out of the back of the hotel to a waiting car. Easy.

I soon arrived at the hotel where I would be meeting him. I checked in with the concierge, who told me that my 'husband' had already arrived. I stepped into the elevator and took a deep breath. My heart was thumping in my chest - I was nervous! But all I had to do was dominate him, bind him and manhandle him out of the back of a hotel. No problem.

I pressed the button for the floor I was headed to and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was certainly dressed for the part. My makeup was way OTT and my long black coat was perfect since it hid my dominant outfit and provided deep pockets for various items of bondage gear. I let my coat open slightly to reveal my tight black leather corset that made some parts of my body seem smaller and other parts seem larger, my black leather stiletto-heeled boots, my fishnet stockings, my black elbow-length gloves and my tiny black leather g-string. The lift chimed just before the doors opened, giving me ample time to close my coat and hide my sexy attire. I made my way to the room and knocked on the door.

"It's open!" came a distinctly male voice from within.

I pushed the door and was surprised by the fact that the room was pitch black. I was then surprised by a rough hand grabbing me, and a strange-smelling tissue being held over my mouth and nose. I struggled briefly, panicking as I felt a burning sensation in my mouth and throat, but all too soon I lost consciousness...

***

"That's some collection of toys you've brought for me to play with," said the voice I had heard earlier, waking me from my sleep.

I had intended those toys to be used on him, but it seemed that he had used them on me instead. When my superiors had told me that he had been into bondage, I assumed that he liked to be on the receiving end. And that assumption could be my downfall. The fact that my eyes were blindfolded prevented me from easily taking stock of my situation, but sensations from various parts of my body gave me a few clues. He had used my handcuffs to bind me, spreadeagled, to the bed - I knew that I was naked, and the invasive hardness in my mouth could only be the ballgag that I had brought with me. At least he hadn't used the nipple clamps. I struggled, trying the strength of my bonds, but I knew that escape was impossible.

"I'm going to get my money's worth out of you," he said, and I could tell from his tone of voice that he was enjoying my predicament.

I felt so alone... so exposed... so vulnerable... so amateur! How could I tell him that it was all a big misunderstanding? How could I tell him that he was the one who was meant to be tied up? I mumbled into the gag, trying to get his attention, but the only response was a big hand roughly gripping my right breast. I felt his weight on the bed next to me, and it encouraged me to struggle all the more...

"I like it when they struggle," he whispered into my ear, his sudden proximity making me jump.

He moved over me, and I felt his stubbled cheek against my bare breast. He took my nipple into his mouth and began to suck, to bite, to arouse... I couldn't help but be aroused by his touch, alternating between pleasure and pain as he sucked, licked, bit and nibbled until my nipple was so hard it ached. And then I felt the bite of the clamp on my nipple, and I groaned loudly into the gag, biting down, pulling hard at my bonds. And then I felt him shift his position, and slowly lick my other nipple, and I knew what was coming...

This time I was ready, and it wasn't such a shock when I felt the vicious clover clamp being attached to my hard nipple. Even so, it still caused me to writhe on the bed... but my writhing stopped when I felt his hand between my legs, his fingers stroking my sex, letting me know exactly how helpless I really was.

"You're wet," he whispered into my ear, fingers still slowly stroking between my spread legs, "I think all this struggling and complaining into your gag is a show."

I shook my head, groaning, but my body was betraying me. My nipples were hard, my pussy was wet, I was so turned on... I had completely lost my focus on the mission. I was meant to be capturing him, but I was in no position to do that... and I couldn't see myself getting into such a position. Perhaps I would have the opportunity when he was finished with me... once he released me.

A NIGHT IN THE LIFE

I blinked and opened my eyes, yawning, just in time to see the last rays of sunlight slip through the heavy velvet curtains with the sunset. I had always been an early riser when I had been alive, and the pattern had continued into my undeath. I slid out from beneath the black satin sheets of my wrought-iron bed and smiled at my reflection in the gothic black mirror - luckily, contrary to popular mythology, the undead do reflect. My reflection was dressed in my favourite cute pink pyjamas (sporting a pattern of scampering and frolicking sickeningly-cute white bunny rabbits) and I noticed that my raven-black hair was a mess, contrasting with the perfect flawlessness of my ivory-white skin. I licked my lips, revealing my elongated canine teeth, and then I pouted - I was hungry, and getting food was usually a complicated business.

Not as complicated as it once was, mind. In the months after that dark night, centuries ago, that had ended with me seeing my last ever sunrise, I had found the prospect of taking a human life quite repulsive. But the hunger inside me grew and my animal instincts took over - I prefer not to remember how I acted when I lost control and my thirst for blood ruled my every action. These days, I feed just so that I won't go back to that terrible, depraved, beast-like state. But part of that state stayed with me - I have some of my humanity. I no longer think the same way, I am now a solitary predator who hunts to feed. Over the years, human life has become of less and less value to me - I have seen my loved ones grow old and die while I haven't changed at all, and the experience has told me that I am more important. I am better.

But I still need to interact in the world of humans - if only to find a suitable meal.

Luckily, last night, I managed to secure my food for tonight. I pick up the business card from my bedside table, read it and crush it into a ball, dropping the crumpled card onto the floor and forgetting about it. I won't be needing it again. And neither will the person who gave it to me.

A few minutes in the bathroom and my hair is neat and my makeup is darkly perfect. I select a black cobweb bodystocking from my wardrobe, and team it with a corset, miniskirt, strappy heels and stockings, all in black, and a blood-red thong. I grab my sunglasses and full-length black coat and venture out into the early evening. I relish in the tight grip of the corset as I walk, and the way it doesn't yield as my breasts move inside it (as much as they can).

Soon, I am at the address on the business card - a plush studio apartment not too far away from the centre of town. I ring the doorbell and it is promptly answered by the girl who gave me the business card last night - a cute, red-headed photography student called Emma who liked my look and asked me to pose for some pictures. I smile a greeting.

"I'm so glad you could make it," she grins, stepping aside so I can enter.

"I've been looking forward to this all day," I reply, admiring the professional-looking photography equipment arranged around the place.

"So have I - you're just the model I've been looking for."

You're just the meal I've been looking for, I think to myself, looking over my shoulder at her as I shrug off my coat and put it to one side.

"I need to take a couple of photos to sort out the lighting," she says, picking up a camera and pointing it at me, "smile!"

I initially blink, anticipating the bright flash of the camera, but it doesn't come. Soon I relax and pose for her, watching the shutter on the camera open and close as she takes the preliminary pictures. I'm beginning to get bored with her already, and am considering just marching across the room and sucking her dry... but, then, I notice the open wardrobe full of fetish gear in her bedroom and I decide to give her a few more minutes of life - I'd love some professional photographs of myself in some of those outfits.

"Feel free to go try something on," Emma says, noticing me looking at her wardrobe as she fiddles with a second camera, "I may be a few minutes here."

BELT³

I stood before the main entrance of a skyscraper belonging to a large, well-known multinational company which, for legal reasons, I cannot name here. But I would never have guessed that they had a sideline in stealing advanced technologies from smaller companies...

I wasn't there through choice. To the innocent passerby, it might have looked as though I was... standing there wearing a large purple overcoat, fishnet tights and high heels, protected against the cold by a thick scarf, my hands firmly in the coat's pockets. In fact, I was only wearing one item of clothing - a high-tech belt which could release coloured liquid latex and fashion it into any shape... in this case, the clothes that I appeared to be wearing. Unbeknownst to the innocent passerby, under the scarf I was wearing a posture collar and a gag... under the coat, my hands were bound together in front of me... and the way I kept shifting position uncomfortably had something to do with the huge dildo between my legs. All generated by the technological marvel that is the belt, which I had donned earlier that day hoping for some self-bondage fun...

"Magnificent, isn't it?" said the tall, dark-haired man next to me with a wicked smile, "You'd never have guessed, would you?"

I had to turn my whole body to look at him, due to the restrictions of the posture collar. Even though he worked for a different company than my boyfriend, he had somehow known that my boyfriend (Gary) had given me the belt to test. And he had known how to trap me in it, and how to override my own control of it.

"Mmmmmph!" I yelled, as loud as I could, but it only came out as a muffled whisper - none of the people crowding into this entrance hall even acknowledged me.

"I thought you'd agree," he grinned, turning and walking towards the main reception - at the press of a button on his remote control, the belt moved my legs and made me follow him.

I caught up with him just as he finished talking to the young woman behind the reception desk. He looked over his shoulder at me, winked briefly, then led me into an elevator. Once we were inside, he took a key from his pocket and placed it in a keyhole under the elevator buttons, and turned it. The doors closed, the elevator lurched and we travelled downwards... far downwards...

Eventually, the doors opened and we emerged in some sort of scientific laboratory. Many people in white lab coats were bustling about, holding clipboards and making notes as they observed various television monitors. More lab-coated individuals were sitting at computers, busy typing and again making notes. None turned as we entered, and while my kidnapper wandered off to talk to someone, I found myself just standing there, unable to move. I soon became very bored, and decided to watch some events unfolding on one of the monitors.

The monitor showed some sort of underground garage, in which a white van had just come to rest. Three men got out of the front, and they walked around to the back and opened the doors. They helped out a woman - she was young, about university age, with long blonde hair and a look of defiance. She was wearing all black - latex opera gloves, latex stockings, stiletto heels and a very large strap-on dildo, leaving her beautiful, perfect breasts bare. Her wrists and elbows were bound behind her back with two pairs of handcuffs, and her mouth held open by a ring-gag. She struggled in her bonds, looking furious as a shorter blonde was led from the back of the van - this girl was wearing a tight corset (from which her breasts were obviously trying to escape but only just failing), a leather collar, a leather thong, fishnet stockings and stiletto-heeled boots. Her bondage was identical (ring-gag, two pairs of handcuffs) and her expression was almost as defiant. The next girl to be led out of the van had dark hair and olive skin, and was utterly naked. Again, her bondage was identical to the other two girls. The last girl was shorter, and possibly Japanese. She was wearing deep red latex - a matching leotard, gloves and stockings. Her makeup was dark and gothic, and her bondage was identical to the other girls'. All four girls struggled, and I wondered if they had been kidnapped, as I had been. The three men led them away, out of shot.

I returned my attention to the room I was in, but my kidnapper was deep in discussion with a couple of lab-coated scientists. Unable to move a muscle, I could only wait for them to finish their conversation. I glanced at a different monitor, and tried to make out what was going on. It showed a room which was a perfect cube. In the centre of it was a brunette wearing a bit-gag, a solid black collar, clover clamps, a chastity belt, stockings, suspenders and a pair of fetish ballet shoes. Her forearms were bound together, parallel to the floor, behind her back. There was a chain attached to her nipple clamps, which stretched out of shot. The girl was walking, but not going anywhere - and then I realised why. The floor was a treadmill, and she had to keep walking to stop the chain tugging on her nipples. I shuddered - how horrible! I assumed she wasn't there by choice, I guessed she was another poor, kidnapped victim, doomed to walk endlessly in horribly-high heels while people wearing white lab coats took notes out of sight.

"Here it is," came the voice of my kidnapper, leading an older scientist towards me.

While my kidnapper stood to one side, the scientist examined my garb in detail - I wondered if he'd even noticed that I was in it. The scientist was making appreciative noises, but I could tell he was marvelling at the technology involved, not the curves of the victim trapped inside it. Eventually, he straightened up and turned to my kidnapper.

"Fascinating," he smiled, "now, can we see it in its default state?"

"Of course, but I warn you that the woman wearing it is a little feisty..."

"No matter, I think we have something that will prevent her from interrupting our study."

The scientist produced a remote control from one of the many deep pockets in his lab coat, and I heard the sound of machinery humming into life behind me. With the posture collar keeping me head immobile, I couldn't look around to see what it was... but I soon forgot about it when my kidnapper pressed a button on his remote control...

The latex which had emerged from the belt earlier that day retreated. The gag in my mouth withdrew, the posture collar disappeared, the coat melted away, the fishnet stockings unspun and the high heels beneath my feet shrunk until they disappeared. Within moments, the liquid latex had retreated back into the retro-style around my waist... which was the only thing stopping me from being utterly naked. But at least I was now free. I automatically covered my breasts and crotch with my hands, and backed away from these two men who were now leering at me. I backed into something cold, behind me. I turned, and was surprised to see a large metallic robot that ran on caterpillar tracks and consisted of a large number of metallic tentacles.

"I hope you appreciate our new acquisition," said the scientist, "we recently purchased it from an inventor who called himself N1tEGeeK."

The name meant nothing to me. But I didn't care. I turned, and ran. And I managed to move just over a metre before the metallic tentacles swooped down and expertly grabbed my wrists and ankles, plucking me effortlessly off the floor and holding me upright, spreadeagled... naked... helpless...

"You'll never..." I began, defiantly, but had to stop as my kidnapper pushed a large ballgag into my mouth and buckled it behind my head.

I writhed and squirmed, pulling at the now-immobile robotic tentacles as hard as I could, but my struggles were both futile and completely ignored by the team of scientists who had now approached and were examining the belt around my waist. I tried to tune out their involved discussion, and instead turned my head to examine some of the other television monitors around the room. I watched the fate of a redhaired girl, who was wearing a sort of metal stock which consisted of a collar from which a short metal pole extended from either side, ending with a wrist cuff. A hood on her head rendered her blind and speechless, and she was standing rather unsteadily in a pair of fetish ballet boots. She wasn't sitting down for two reasons. The first was due to a pair of clover clamps attached to her nipples and via a chain to the ceiling. The second was due to a ring of devices around her that occasionally lashed out with a whip or crop, aiming for her unprotected flesh. She was constantly turning and trying to evade the devices, not realising that the floor beneath her was moving to keep her in the centre of the cube-shaped room.

I was distracted from this sight by a finger pushing under the tight belt around my waist. I looked down to see my kidnapper searching for something... eventually he found a catch under the belt, and released a panel on the front into which he plugged a cable. I looked at him inquisitively, and he returned my look with a smile.

"We're upgrading your belt," he said, "with a bigger lexicon, better artificial intelligence, access to the Internet. Everything. You might feel a slight discomfort..."

He stepped back and pressed a button on a computer, to which the cable was attached. I heard a hum of power, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle... it was as if the room was filled with static electricity... I felt my long hair moving of its own accord, and I began to struggle...

Suddenly, the room went black. I heard many panicked voices...

"Switch it off!"

"It's drawing too much power!"

"It's going to overload the system!"

Within a couple of seconds the room became visible again, bathed in red light. Some of the lab-coated scientists were panicking, but most were staring at me. I squirmed in the grasp of the tentacled robot, but could do nothing... the belt around my waist was now vibrating with unseen power. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth... the vibrations were really quite pleasant.

There was a bright spark, and then darkness again. The robotic tentacles released their grip and I fell to the floor, landing on my hands and knees. I quickly removed the gag from my mouth and stumbled through the darkness, hoping to find an exit. There was a flicker, and the lights came back on. I saw my kidnapper, looking at the tentacled robot in surprise when he realised it wasn't holding me any more, but then he saw me, crouched in the corner. He grabbed his remote control, and pressed a button. Nothing happened. He pressed the button again, and still nothing happened. He no longer had remote control over the belt. I could escape.

"Bye!" I grinned, unplugging the cable from the belt and dashing towards the elevator.

"WEARER VOICE REGISTERED," said the belt, as I ran, making me stumble slightly with surprise.

"Belt, body," I commanded, as I reached the elevator.

"WEARER COMMAND ACCEPTED."

The belt responded instantly, and liquid latex quickly flowed over my body to form a sexy, skintight, black latex leotard. I dashed inside the open elevator, and quickly pressed the button for the ground floor. I saw my kidnapper and a number of scientists running towards me, and I jabbed the button repeatedly... I had to escape. I had to get free. I had to alert people to what was going on down here...

The elevator doors began to close, but stopped when a pair of metal tentacles reached in and forced them apart. Another pair of tentacles reached in and grabbed my wrists, and pulled me back out into the room full of scientists. With my wrists held up above my head, I was quite helpless again... almost. As my kidnapper approached, I lashed out with my feet, trying to kick him. He jumped back, avoiding my feet, smiling. He clicked his fingers and two burly security guards dashed forward to grab my ankles and hold them apart. I squirmed in their grip, struggling hard as my kidnapper walked between my open legs and fingered my belt.

"Quite an impressive piece of equipment, this," he grinned, "but it's time to bring this little show to an end. I don't know quite what happened just now, but your belt accessed our mainframe in the confusion. It's a shame, since I hate to destroy something so perfect, but..."

He looked me in the eye as he plugged another cable into the front of the belt. I looked down, and smiled when I saw the cable drop to the floor. My kidnapper cursed, picked up the cable and plugged it into the front of the belt again. Again, it dropped to the floor, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Enough of this," he said, his smile as cold as ice, "kill her."

The security guards holding my ankles quickly pulled what looked like cattle prods from their belts. I thrashed and kicked, but they maintained their strong grips, and I knew that I only had moments left. I looked to the scientists milling around the room, and wondered if they would care about my predicament.

"Help me!" I shouted, as the guards raised their cattle prods to strike.

But my salvation didn't come from the scientists. It came from the last place I expected. Twin balls of latex, fashioned into fists, thrust out of the belt around my waist and struck the guards... hitting both in the face... and they collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The balls returned to the belt, melting into my costume seamlessly.

My kidnapper looked at me, frozen, his expression one of shock. But the older scientist wasn't so easily distracted from his duties - he pressed some buttons on his remote control, and the two tentacled robot arms which had been holding the elevator doors open quickly whipped around to strike me. I closed my eyes and, when no pain came, I gingerly opened them again... the belt had fashioned similar arms out of black latex, which had caught the robot arms and prevented them from touching me. As I watched, black latex flowed up my body, up my arms, to where my wrists were being held firmly by the other two robot arms. The latex at my wrists bulged, forcing the tentacles gripping my wrists to loosen their grip... and then the latex flattened, and the tentacles were no longer holding my wrists, and again I dropped to the floor. But this time I was ready.

I turned, and dashed around the robot towards the elevator, as the latex arms retracted into the belt. But N1tEGeeK's robot's arms were no longer holding the doors open, and the elevator closed just as I reached it. Cursing, I turned and looked for another exit. And then I saw a large glass wall across the room, which looked into a small, empty white room which was a perfect cube. It had two doors leading out of it, and I decided that that was where I would go.

BIRTHDAY TREAT

Even though we were nowhere near the speakers, the music still pumped into the changing room and made my heart pound to the beat. I couldn't tell what the song was, but I didn't care - as I slowly put on the costume for my next dance, I was moving to the sound of the bass. Life as a stripclub dancer was very enjoyable. I got a real thrill out of dancing onstage for all those men, being the centre of attention, feeling like the most beautiful (or, at least, the sexiest) girl in the world.

"You're up, Laura!" came a voice from behind me - it was Cherry, rushing into the changing room wearing just a teeny red g-string.

"What's the audience like tonight?" I asked, pushing my chair back and standing.

"Hot and horny," Cherry grinned.

I was about to perform one of my favourite bondage routines - I think they are so popular because they make me feel so hot, and that feeling is transmitted to my audience. I was wearing a fishnet teddy, with cut-outs for my breasts, a pair of high-heeled boots with complicated laces from toe to just below the knee and a large, thick black cloak that covered everything... for now. I checked my gothic makeup one last time before heading for the door.

"Hey, Laura, aren't you forgetting something?" Cherry asked.

I gave her a puzzled look, before I remembered the most important part of my act. The handcuffs. How could I forget them? Cherry held them up and I took them, giving her a wink as I walked out of the dressing room and onto the stage. I heard my announcement and the start of my music (Tainted Love, the Marilyn Manson version). I was wrapped in my cloak, and I marched to the centre of the stage. I stood stock still and scanned the audience for a familiar face - and then I saw him. Chad, my boyfriend, standing by the bar and watching my every move.

THE CATWALK

I was fresh out of college and needed the cash. The modelling job looked like the perfect opportunity - for both paying off my student debt and getting some much-needed experience of the industry. I convinced my friend Kate to come along with me to the auditions, and somehow we both managed to get through - we opted for the evening show, since it paid a lot better than the afternoon show. It was as easy as that.

"What exactly does 'fetish' mean anyway?" I asked her, turning the pass I'd been given over in my hands.

She peered at me over the top of her capuccino and shook her head, smiling. I looked at the pass again - it was simple piece of black laminated card with purple gothic writing that read Fetish Fashions. There was some extra information on the back, but nothing that answered my question.

"Weird sexy stuff, I think," Kate replied, sounding very knowledgeable, "leather and rubber and so on."

"Doesn't sound too bad," I said, not entirely convinced, turning the pass over in my hands again.

"Don't worry about it - it's a job, and it pays well. Now, are you coming or not? We have to be there in fifteen minutes!"

GIRLS NIGHT OUT

The bouncer looked us up and down, his expression changing from one of boredom to a big cheesy grin. I didn't blame him. Pauline was showing off her best assets in a very brief blue latex nurse outfit, complete with white fishnet stockings and very high heels, while I was dressed as a policewoman, complete with tiny skirt, black fishnets and, of course, real handcuffs.

The bouncer stepped aside and we entered the dark, smokey atmosphere of the nightclub. After paying the entrance fee, we headed straight for the bar, checking out the talent on the dancefloor as we passed. We'd already had a dangerous mixture of different alcohols before coming out, so decided to go easy on our first trip to the bar and just get some nice tasting alcopops. We found somewhere to sit where we could see the hordes dancing to some 90's dance track.

"What?" I shouted, realising that Pauline had said something.

"I said, I'm going to get some good music playing!" Pauline shouted in reply.

"How?"

"I'm going to snog the DJ!" she winked, before getting up and wandering in the direction of his booth.

I watched her go, admiring the tightness of her latex dress and the way I could see the curves of her body moving underneath it. And I loved the way I could just see the tops of her white stockings. The way I was sitting, with my legs crossed, any casual glance from passersby would see more than the tops of my stockings - my suspenders were on display too. I peered through the smoke and saw that Pauline was being true to her word - not only was she snogging the DJ, she was letting him fondle her chest, where her 36D breasts were stretching the latex out of shape.

My view was obstructed by a guy with long dark hair.

"If I complimented your body, would you hold it against me?" he asked.

I smiled, looking him in the eye: "Try me."

He was about to reply when Pauline stepped between us and held out her hand to me. I took it and she pulled me to her feet - at that moment, the music changed to something more up our street... Love Shack, by the B52's. I gave the guy a look of commiseration before skipping to the dancefloor with my lover.

Pauline and I love to dance. And, judging by the circle of men that had formed around us, our efforts were appreciated. Going retro to Love Shack was one thing, but we stepped up a gear for the next song, It's Raining Men by the Weathergirls. Some of the braver guys ventured forward to dance with us, forming a closer circle of writhing bodies while Pauline and I danced close together, stroking each others' arms as me moved together, looking each other in the eyes but occasionally breaking off to smile invitingly to the guys around us. Mis-teeq's Scandalous was next, and we used the change in tempo to tease the guys even more... I felt on top of the world, and incredibly horny, especially with the way Pauline was gripping my hips. Halfway through the song, we parted company to dance closely with the guys crowding around us. At the point where the music changed to Kylie's Spinning Around, I was almost sitting astride a well-built, short-haired guy's thigh whilst Pauline was rubbing her latex-clad buttocks into a tall, handsome guy's crotch while he gripped her hips. We gave our respective guys chaste kisses on the cheeks before Pauline led me to the pole in the middle of the dancefloor.

KEY TO HER HEART

I walked up the tasteless green steps to the huge double-doors of Caligula's Palace, one of the largest casinos in Las Venturas. My shift had seemed to last forever, but now it was finally over - I had been posted on a roulette wheel for most of my shift, and the noise of that little ball clattering around the wheel was enough to drive anyone mad after just a few hours. I saw my reflection in the huge double-doors - tall, slim, dark hair pulled back in a pony tail (as was the regulation for croupiers), cute nose, large eyes. I was wearing a white blouse but everything else was black: the waistcoat, bowtie, trousers, sensible shoes. And, naturally, my underwear was also black, and I felt a special thrill wearing my sexiest of underwear beneath my most boring of work clothes. But today was going to change that - on my way home, I planned to buy something even sexier.

I pushed through the doors, wondering if the punters who turned up at my table to lose their money ever wondered what I was wearing beneath my regulation croupier uniform. I was sure that they'd never suspect that my D-cup breasts were encased in a black leather bra, my shaved pussy in a black leather thong and my long, long legs in black fishnet stockings.

As I blinked in the sunlight, I noticed with some surprise that my little pink hatchback was parked neatly just to my right. I had left it in the casino's car park - I knew that some of the valets fancied me, so perhaps one of them had moved my car at the end of my shift. I also noticed that Joe, a large, powerful bouncer was standing near it, and that a mysterious muscular black man in green clothes and expensive sunglasses was sitting on a motorbike to my left. Feeling a little intimidated by the way the man on the bike was trying to look inconspicuous, I quickly walked towards the bouncer.

"Another shift over - see you tomorrow!" I smiled, cheerily.

The bouncer ignored me, and I was a little disappointed. I was hoping that familiarity with this bouncer would scare off the guy on the motorbike. Nevermind - I wouldn't let this scary stranger get between me and what promised to be the best evening of my life.

I climbed into my car (the personalised numberplate read 'SPANK', which always got my embarrassing questions but that always added to my excitement), started the engine and joined the freeway known as The Strip which passed through the centre of the city. The guy on the bike had slightly rattled me, so I took a rather circuitous route to my destination - I had seen him leave the casino grounds just after me, but now there was no sign of him in my rear-view mirror. I pulled up outside a store called, simply, Sex Shop, which was sandwiched between a 24-hour convenience store and a tourist information centre - even though the window was full of wigs, I knew that there were much more interesting things inside.

I quickly parked my car in one of the parking bays outside, and walked quickly and confidently into the shop. I used to feel shy about entering these sort of places, but now as a fully-qualified perv I had no qualms at all. Especially since I'd seen the titles of some of the magazines the shop stocked - the things I like to do seem positively tame by comparison.

The shop was dominated by racks of videos and magazines, all of a rather dodgy nature, and a modest selection of dildos, vibrators and other interesting toys. But my eyes, as usual, were distracted by the serving staff: all female, all beautiful, all wearing gorgeous fetish outfits. The girl behind the counter to my left, for example, was wearing a large black eyemask to hide her true identity, a black underbust corset that squeezed her waist to form her body into a perfect hourglass shape, small circles of black tape to hide her nipples, a black collar, black latex opera gloves, very high black stiletto-heeled boots.

I walked between the racks of videos to the other end of the shop, past all the shady-looking characters who were discreetly browsing the titles, past the other counter behind which a girl in an identical costume to the first was keeping an eye on the shop, and I turned left towards the outfits and changing rooms. A short corridor ended with a door on either side, and a third girl in an identical costume to the first two standing guard - despite the eyemask, I recognised her as my friend Laura.

"Hi, Millie," she grinned.

"Hi, Laura, how's it going?"

"These stiletto heels are killing me and customers keep staring at my breasts."

"So, good then?" I asked, staring at her breasts.

"Couldn't be happier - where else could I do this all day?"

"You'd be welcome to at my place, anytime," I grinned, "Do you have that item for me?"

"Sure, I've laid it out ready for you - Pauline is waiting in the changing rooms to help you into it."

"Thanks, babe."

I quickly headed through the door to the right, and found the changing room that contained the blonde-haired Pauline and the item of clothing I wished to purchase - a very sexy black corset, slightly larger than those worn by the shop staff since it would at least cover my nipples, but I hoped it would squeeze my breasts very pleasantly and make them wobble tantalisingly with my every movement.

"Hey Millie," Pauline smiled.

"Hey Pauline," I grinned in return, admiring her rather brief and very sexy fetish outfit.

Without needing prompting, I quickly undressed - I removed my bowtie, waistcoat, blouse, bra, shoes and trousers until I was standing before her in just my thong and stockings. She looked me up and down, smiling - I was so turned on, if I wasn't keeping to a tight schedule I could have stayed in that changing room for hours...

The next few minutes involved Pauline's knee in the middle of my back as she fastened the straps as tight as they would go, and I watched in the mirror as my already-small waist shrunk and shrunk and shrunk... and my breasts bulged just as I had hoped.

"Wow, it's nice and tight!" I grinned, admiring my reflection in the mirror - Pauline had kindly supplied me with a pair of stiletto-heeled shoes to wear with it.

"I'm sure you'll squeeze in just fine," Laura's voice came from outside the changing room, "Let's have a look!"

I thanked Pauline and stepped out into the corridor in which Laura was standing guard. I was very aware that, just to my left, a number of shoppers had stopped their browsing of the dodgy videos so that they could look at me in this super-sexy outfit. Although a little shy, I felt very confident in the corset and revelled in the attention.

"Perfect," Laura purred, but was interrupted by the sound of a mobile phone.

It was my mobile phone, which I had in my hand just in case of this eventuality. I had been expecting a call, after all. I quickly answered it.

"Is that my Millie?" came an old voice from the other end of the line.

"Oh, hi Benny!" I smiled - hearing his voice always made me smile.

"Have you collected that item I picked out for you?"

"Yes, Master, I'm just trying it on. You got yours?"

"Of course."

"Cool - I'll see you at my house in just a short while."

I heard the click as he hung up, and I quickly turned off the phone. Benny was amazing - despite his age and his looks, and his many missing teeth, he was a bona-fide perv who could do such wonderful things to me... He had set me up in this city, buying me my car and my house, setting me up with a job at the casino. I owed everything to him, and all he wanted in return was to dominate me once a week. I quickly turned and re-entered the changing room, where Pauline helped me put on my croupier uniform over my corset. Since Benny had paid for the corset in advance, all I had to do was wave to the girls and leave the shop... but something caught my eye as I left, a man standing by a video rack, wearing green. It looked like the slightly scary man from outside the casino, right down to the expensive sunglasses. Was he stalking me? Or was it all a coincidence? Shuddering, I quickly hurried from the shop.

I climbed into my car and just sat there for a minute, calming myself, gathering my thoughts. In a few minutes' time, I'd be home and wouldn't have to worry about that guy who had spooked me. And I'd be looking forward to being used and abused by Benny for the rest of the evening. I started the engine, reversed out of the parking bay and drove out of the city to the suburbs, where my neat little bungalow lived. Listening to En Vogue sing My Lovin' on 103.9 Contemporary Soul Radio soon made me forget about my stalker. Once parked out front of my bungalow, I quickly left my car and entered the house, leaving the door unlocked for Benny. It wasn't your average house - all of the internal walls had been knocked down to create one big room, which was dominated by a huge king-size bed against the right-hand wall. Various chains and other devices (for example, my bondage swing made from leather straps) hung from the ceiling, and the windows had been boarded up long ago. Opposite the door was a large perspex box within which I had been locked on many occasions for being particularly naughty, and arranged around the room were various whips, crops and dildos. I walked around the room with my cigarette lighter, lighting the torches that were attached to the walls by brackets, and smiled as the room was illuminated by flickering firelight. I stripped out of my croupier uniform and checked my reflection in the mirror - perfect. I ran my hands over my body, feeling incredibly horny - the anticipation was killing me.

My thoughts were interrupted by a gunshot, outside. I gasped, and turned - I would have gone to the window, except that it was boarded up. And with such violence going on outside, the last thing I wanted to do was investigate in the briefest of fetish outfits. Violent crime had recently increased in Las Venturas, and I didn't want to become a statistic.

I heard the doorbell ring. I smiled with relief.

"The door's open, Master!" I called, "Come on in, I'm ready for you!"

The door opened, and Benny stepped into my house. At least, I thought it was Benny, but the man who stepped into my house was considerably taller and more muscular than I remembered. I couldn't make out any features, since he was covered from head to toe in a gimp suit. He had a huge double-ended purple dildo in one hand, which certainly made my eyes widen.

"You've been a naughty girl," he said - if it was Benny, his voice and accent had certainly changed a huge amount since our phone conversation, but who else knew I was here?

"Oh I know, I know..." I smiled, walking towards him.

"Spit it out, you filthy worm!"

I was taken aback - Benny never said anything like that to me. What was going on here? I brought myself up to my full height and looked him defiantly in the eyes (or I would have, except that I couldn't see through his expensive sunglasses): "You'll never break me!"

"If you're good, I'll punish you more!"

"Oh, Benny, you minx!" I screamed with delight, forgetting that this man obviously wasn't Benny. Even more obviously, he was the guy who had been stalking me all through Las Venturas on my drive home. And now I think I knew what he wanted.

"I'm not Benny, I'm Carl," he said, quietly, "Benny couldn't make it. He had urgent business out of town. He sold you to me, just like that."

"He wouldn't..."

"He did."