Charlotte Fetish Entombed

Charlotte looks damn good in all that latex, but Elise barely gives her face a glance. Head to toe, every inch of Charlotte is sealed in shiny black. Elise works fast. She guides her into a heavy inflatable rubber rest sack, then settles it inside a coffin-shaped box. Charlotte lets her. Doesn’t fight. Trust’s thick in the air, almost as tight as the latex. Once Charlotte’s in place, Elise starts to seal the bag, each zipper catching with a slow, deliberate sound. No rush. Just control. The kind that leaves Charlotte breathless before the air even thins out. The lid closes. The room goes quiet. Only the faint sound of latex straining, and Elise waiting to see how long that trust really lasts.