Ok folks this one’s rated X…for experimental well the other reason you rate things X in multiple pairings too but I think you gathered that. I’m a pantyhose freak but well never really got deep into the fetish part…so well im attempting this here, will be the first to admit this may be a little rough, so well be gentle on the comments it’s my first time…same normal stuff…no kids, no trying this at home.
Caught in a Fishnet
“The malls are stocked with them, fine young fish swimming there in all their glory. Blonde fish, brunette fish, brown fish, latin fish, it’s open season and that’s why we’re out here.” The man said to his assistant, a young woman dressed in fishnet stockings and sleeves and a leather micromini with a silver bustier that cannot come close to containing her DDD size breasts, who nods slowly and mechanically.
“The trick is in the bait, so what do you wanna bag?” He asks.
“Something we can cook into something more to our liking.” The woman replies.
“Red wigglers then.” The man says and takes out a sack of red leather high heeled shoes and boots in all styles and sizes and places them in a discount bin to be stocked at the local department store.
“Now we just sit and wait for a bite.” He says intently
Becky was looking for a new outfit. She was 21 and just ready to go with her boyfriend and she wanted an outfit that screamed seduction. It wasn’t like she wasn’t beautiful, she had long blonde hair, c size breasts accented in her tight sweater and suede jacket with tight jeans. She already had the miniskirt and pantyhose to go with the black top and red jacket she chose not to mention the teddy for that night. Now she just needed the shoes when she saw the bin full of all styles of red shoes. She found 3 pairs in her size, strappy 6 inch heels, 5 inch boots and traditional 4 inch pumps. Becky went for the strappy 6 inch red sandals with straps that climbed all the way up the ankle and went to try them on. As she fastened them she didn’t notice that she poked herself but she did feel so sexy that she HAD to wear them out of the store. As she emerged the fisherman took notice.
“We have a bite! Should we land her?” He asked.
“Yes, she will be excellent.” His assistant said with a smile.
“To the boat then!” The fisherman exclaimed and headed back to a janitor’s closet near the ladies room and putting down a blow gun aimed right at Becky when he noticed a 16 year old girl buying the pair of pumps from the bin and quickly shot her with the blow gun.
“She’s too young, throw her back, I haven’t needed the antidote gun in more than 10 years of fishing but well…it comes in handy. Especially when I almost landed a 70 year old lady!” he said with a chuckle.
Becky felt hornier than she already was and suddenly she felt the crisscross pattern of fine mesh fishnet stockings crawling up her feet to her ankles under her jeans. As she continued to walk, the heels became less and less clumsy and her feet began to contour to the shoe’s shape as she went to the food court and ordered her salad.
By the time she sat down she felt very hot and she took her jacket off. Then she felt it moreso than before. A deep itch, the fishnets etching their way into her skin under her jeans, first to her knees then she realized she was now pantieless and the crisscross pattern turned into pantyhose that then…
Becky blanked for a good 20 minutes, interrupted only by the sudden rush of water inside her. She looked down her salad and water were still in their containers, unopened and now she felt unbearably horny like her jeans would spontainiously combust if she didn’t take them off. As she got up she could feel the pantyhose inside her and it felt unbelievable but she knew it wasn’t right. Maybe it was just her period she thought to herself, some odd hot flash but as she ran for the bathroom she realized her bra was gone and the crisscross was tearing into her nipples making them erasers on contact.
She HAD to reach the bathroom now, she was starting not to think straight and her vocal chords tingled with the need to moan loudly. She tried to run but the high heels would only let her saunter at a snails pace, each step like being fisted as hard as possible.
Finally she reached the bathroom and undid her jeans only to feel the fishnets working their way down her arms to her wrists which molded to her belt, which first became puppet strings to make her remove her shirt and jacket, then handcuffs. Her jeans would not go past her ankles and began to bond with the straps of her sandals morphing into a red micromini that would bind her no matter where they were on her legs.
The crisscross pattern now moved up her neck, her gold cross falling to the floor while the necklace tightens and becomes a collar. Becky could no longer feel her vocal chords and she began moaning uncontrollably, as this happened the rush of water inside of her came out, to her disgust it wasn’t her period or a sudden need to pee, she came and came hard with a heavy orgasm with every part of her body shaking in delight. At that moment the crisscross dug into the back of her head and over her ears and she could feel it creeping into her brain.
I am in love…criss cross X to her memories…I serve my mistress, I obey my Mistress an X to her sanity.
I am pure and make love, not have sex…X to her purity…I am a slut, I exist to be fucked…a new X to her values.
As this was happening Becky felt the criss cross pattern creep over her face and then into her mouth, gagging her, up her nose, making her only smell her own juices while breathing, and sealing her ears, only letting her hear the voices in her head. Then it came over her eyes and she was completely blind, her hands were bound into her pussy and she constantly twitched to keep it stimulated.
Becky tried her damndest to fight the spell but the mesh had erased most of her thought patterns and now covered her brain. Finally with another orgasm she lost conciousness and was retrieved by the Fisherman’s assistant, her body’s covering looking now like a duffel bag to avoid detection as she went into the janitor’s closet and hit a revolving panel that led them to a storeroom.
“We landed her. Cut the hooks loose.” The fisherman said and the assistant cut open a small hole near the top of the head and Becky unfurled, covered head to toe in fishnet stockings. Her breasts protruded through and were visible and her skirt was on the floor below with her past belongings in the back pocket and the fisherman reads her driver’s licence.
“Becky Barnes, 21 years old, boyfriend, natural blonde, 5′9 without the heels. You landed a whopper.” The fisherman says and the fishnet retracts down to her shoulders allowing Becky to speak.
“What, what happened to me? Where am I?” Her confusion is muted thanks to the programming in her brain but still exists but in more of an inquisitive tone than one of fear, anger or fighting back.
“You were caught, those shoes were bait, we landed you, you are our trophy. In Fact…” The fisherman takes a chain and ties it to behind her feet and then hangs Becky by her feet and the assistant poses for a picture with her catch, smiling in triumph before Becky is then lowered to the ground, splitleg and the assistant moves in on her.
“Oh my god you’re my…ohhhhhhhhhh” As soon as the assistant’s tongue enters Becky’s pussy Becky ceases to exist, her last memories are Xed out by the crisscross of the fishnet over her brain. A good 2 hours of hard sex later, the slave is permitted to cum and falls unconscious, her purpose for this night fulfilled, she sleeps and the fishnet retracts, leaving the body a blank canvas.
“I want her completely changed, a message to the pretty girls.” Mistress says and takes out a tattoo pen and first renames the former Becky with a tattoo across her neck. She is now only known as Aurora. Her blonde hair is allowed to shine in a second layer but her top hair is dyed bright pink, green and blue stripes like a northern lights. Her eyes are permanently shadowed an irradecent green, her nose is pierced with a sparkling silver ring, her collar reflects the colors of the rainbow and carries a sapphire and emerald which are both actually hypnotic paste copies. The sapphire intended to snare lesbians, the emerald to snare men.
“She will not pleasure me, she is not worthy, she is too much a good girl in her past to be worthy of anything except making me money.” Mistress declared.
She was then fitted with a black leather bra that barely contained her breasts that were still in the grasp of the fishnets. Her skirt was turquoise and, like her bra didn’t cover anything, her fishnets covered more. Her shoes remained a bright red and then she was tattooed.
Sex doll on her tailbone, slut on her right arm and whore on the left. Her tongue and clit were pierced as were her nipples. The last indignity came in a sharp stab to awaken her.
“You work tonight, Aurora, you are a good slave so you will fufill the wish of your past persona.” Mistress said.
Aurora was driven to her boyfriends house and rang the bell.
“Oh my god, Becky? What the fuck happened to you?” He said in confusion.
“I am Aurora, I am the shimmering light to envelop and pleasure you, you will pay me all that I take, you may do anything to me, I am a slave, I am a slut, I am a whore, I only exist to please others.” Aurora said.
“Becky, have you been…be…Aurora, you are my slave, crawl to me and never leave your canine position.” The hypnotic collar of Aurora reached the mind of the boyfriend and awakened his most perverse and sadistic thoughts as Aurora crawled inside.
The next day mistress was pleased, the boyfriend was addicted and now could not sleep without one of the fisherman’s catches having sex with him, Aurora used his credit card to remove his life savings and give it to mistress and best of all, Aurora was treated like the slut that she was, Mistress now had what was to be Becky’s wedding ring around her middle finger in a symbol of Aurora’s enslavement.
That afternoon Mistress was walking the streets with Aurora, Mistress’ real name being Inflatabitch thanks to her oversized breasts. This was the fisherman’s pattern, capture slaves, give them the chance to get what they think is their replacement then return them to slave state. He was the top pimp in the country this way, and now, a year to the day of her enslavement, we see Aurora having her day of gone fishing.
“I want a spoiled trust fund brat” Aurora mechanically replied to his instructions.
“Goldfish then” He said and he snuck into the ritzy shoe store and replaced the stock with his enslaving replicas.
A bevy of college cheerleaders enters the Foot Locker while this is going on, the boyfriend who has become so enthralled due to his previous relationship with Aurora he has lost his own name and goes by the nametag B. Friend while working there to pay for his addiction sees them and sits them all down for new cheer sneakers.
“I have new sneakers for all of you, brand new, custom made.” He says with a smile.
They all try on the sneakers and like them so much they HAVE to wear them out of the store.
“They make me fell giddy” One says with a giggle none notice their jeans growing tighter and tighter around their legs.
Meanwhile, as has happened once a month for the past year, a young woman is being possessed by the fishnets in the form of a massive catch, none other than Rap princess Tamika Bradley with her silver strappy sandals with 8 inch heels. Her already short skirt is showing the elegantly patterned black pantyhose creeping up in the crisscross pattern, putting her in a state of insaitiable heat. Her handler meanwhile is in the same state with the traditional fishnets inching their way up, already dissolving her bra, both are in their 20 minute trance that allows the fishnets to penetrate the sexual organs without detection until it is too late.
Meanwhile the cheer team are becoming a mess of prepubescent giggles as their jeans now ARE their skin, the few in track pants having shed them for the growing denim, under their jackets and shirts the denim is changing color to resemble heavy red tube tops that mold their breasts to a perfect C size regardless of actual size. As they shed their jackets and shirts to reveal the tube tops, they suddenly slip into a deep trance and make a beeline to the bathroom but stop at the broom closet.
“Hi, I’m Becky, remember me?” One of the cheerleaders says and they bum rush the fisherman and steal the blow gun containing the antidote and run into the ladies room where it’s just in the nick of time for both Tamika and her assistant and their heat cools and slowly the fishnets reverse themselves.
“They were penetrated, they will need surgery to remove the poison from inside them” Aurora drones out while police dive on the fisherman and decide to add a rape charge to the laundry list upon hearing the information.
“what the hell, you are MY slave, Aurora” The fisherman says.
“I am Mistress Becky. I serve my husband and master, Robert. I am his pleasure, I am his wife.” Becky says.
“Never hypnotize a colorblind man with lights.” Robert says. “this whole year I was playing possum, injecting seeds of memories into my wife’s raped brain after seeing how badly she was erased.
“But you’re taking slaves too, Arrest them!” The fisherman cries.
“My cheerleaders? Yes I duplicated your formula with the help of doctors, but these women, while under mind control will NOT be slaves. I realized that your antidote was little more than the same formula with a counteracting material that cancels the nylon of your fishnets. A few tosses in the sack with my denim slaves should at least enable them to live somewhat normal lives. And oh yeah as for the money…covering your tracks by keeping the existing names of your whores accounts alive…bad idea! I had all the money all the time, spending millions finding a treatment to free my wife. I had enough to get her to a stage where she think’s shes a mistress serving another pimp…your other victims are at the hospital, and one more thing.
“The northern lights always scared me!” Becky says with a slap across the face.
Epilogue: Despite hope, no cure was found for the nylon slavery of the fisherman nor the denim slavery of the cheer squad as the counteraction theory turned out to be a false hope (then again the line between cheerleaders and slaves is always very thin to begin with). However given the hypnotic implements given to the slaves, the freed were able to lead healthy careers as spies in the clothing slavery trade and have brought down several masters and mistresses.