Chapter 19
Nadia sat across from Evelyn in the dimly lit private lounge of Abyss, the air thick with tension. She had come here knowing exactly what Evelyn wanted - to push her, to bend her, to make her accept what she had been resisting for weeks. And yet, part of her had walked in willingly. Part of her needed to hear it, even if she loathed herself for it.
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, swirling a glass of deep red wine, studying Nadia with the sharp gaze of a predator watching its prey teeter on the edge of surrender. "You’re suffering, Nadia. It’s written all over you. You’ve been suffering for months. And for what?"
Nadia clenched her jaw, her fingers digging into the armrest of her seat. "I didn't come here to play your games, Evelyn. I just want this to end."
Evelyn tilted her head slightly, amused. "Oh, but you are playing, my dear. The moment you stepped through that door, you put yourself back on the board. The question is - are you ready to make your move?"
Nadia exhaled sharply. "I should have never let Elise go."
Evelyn's smile widened. "Ah, finally, the truth. Tell me, Nadia, why did you spare her? Was it pity? A moment of weakness?"
Nadia hesitated. She had asked herself this same question every night, replaying that fateful decision in her mind. "Because I thought… I thought she deserved a life outside of that… box. That no one should deserve that."
Evelyn clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "And look where that got you. Elise didn’t come out of that coffin grateful. She came out vengeful. And now? Now she’s coming for you."
Nadia's fingers dug into her palms, her jaw tightening. "I know. She already has. She threatened me before she even went into the coffin. Said she’d expose my chastity, my rubber submission, everything, on her social media. She made sure I knew she wouldn’t forget."
Evelyn leaned in, her voice smooth, coaxing, yet laced with something undeniable. "So that year was just borrowed time for you? So when she is forcing you to a challenge anyhow, then it’s best for you to decide when and how it happens. Face her while she is still weakened. Tell me, what did your mercy bring you? Elise didn’t learn gratitude - she learned hate. And now she’s sharpening it into a weapon, one she wants to use against you."
Nadia swallowed, her breath uneven. She didn’t need to answer. They both knew the truth.
"I thought she’d let the social media go and drop it, after I spared her from retirement into the coffin. But she is still mad at me, sees me as a rival."
Evelyn sighed, as if speaking to a slow learner, her nails tapping against the side of her wine glass. "Mercy is weakness in Abyss, Nadia. Sparing Elise was a mistake, one that’s costing you dearly. But you can fix it. You know what the owners want. The coffin beneath the stage won’t stay empty forever."
Nadia's breath hitched, the weight of that statement pressing into her chest. "You want me to duel her. To finish what I should have done before."
Evelyn tilted her head, watching her like a cat watching a cornered mouse. "Exactly. And this time, there will be no mercy. No hesitation. If you want to be free - truly free - this is the only way."
Nadia exhaled shakily. "And she agreed?"
Evelyn’s smile was unreadable. "Of course."
Nadia clenched her fists. She knew it was a lie. Elise would come for her, but in a solo challenge to expose her. A duel, however… she could hear it in Evelyn’s tone. Elise would not want to risk the coffin again. But that didn’t matter. It would happen anyway. Evelyn would manipulate her.
She ran a hand through her hair, trying to steady herself. "And if I refuse?"
Evelyn took a slow sip of her wine before setting the glass down with deliberate ease. "You may refuse. Nothing here happens without your consent. You just stay as you are. Bound in chastity. Helpless. Enduring every second of your torment. The latex extension stays, pushing you deeper into unbearable longing. You will languish in your chastity. And when you do come crawling back, begging for a game just to win the tiniest relief, what do you think I’ll say? You understand, I can never give you sexual relief, only Elise can approve that. It is her belt. But this is my offer to free yourself from her. And if you refuse my offer to duel her, you still have to deal with her directly when she comes after you with the social media forfeit. That’s between the two of you, I’d only provide the stage for the challenge she will demand. I'm helping you here. I offer you a chance to destroy Elise, before she drags you onto the stage with a solo challenge. And you know what forfeit she will demand from you. Isn’t it better to meet her in a duel, so you can have a chance at her? And take her out before she demands the social media challenge? To now only get your waiver, but to free you from her and the belt? You said it was a mistake to let her escape retirement."
She tilted her head, studying Nadia’s reaction, then continued, "And it’s a pity you never gambled with me, or with Abyss. You only challenged Elise and all games after that were arranged with either her, or bets against the device she put around your hips. I just won’t meddle with your belt, or should I say Elise’s belt. Let this sink in, you are her slave, not Abyss’."
She paused, then went on. "If it had been otherwise, you’d not be in your retail job anymore, we would have fostered your career. Nadia, you are an unfortunate and pitiful example of a bad position in Abyss. Famous, but not successful. Admired, but untouchable in chastity. Soft and goodhearted, and yet sought to be destroyed. If you come through with Elise, you are welcome as my guest in our own games. You will find success outside of these halls with our help, like so many before you."
She smirked and continued, "You’ve gambled against the bondage bag, against rubber enclosure, against every extension of your submission, yet there’s one forfeit you’ve never risked. The needle frame. The exquisite pain, the ultimate test of endurance. You’ve never felt its intense bite either. I’m sure we can arrange a good promotion for you if you would risk it. Stronger women than you had been broken by its pain. I’d like to see you risk it. I’d like even more to see you in it. You looked so adorable when you were dangling in the needle harness. The way you scrunched your soles when you scream. But now? Always avoiding the highest stakes."
Nadia’s hands curled into fists. "I’ve endured enough."
Evelyn laughed softly, leaning back with an air of satisfaction. "Have you? I don’t think so, but these things can wait for after you have dealt with Elise." She smirked, eyes alight with amusement. "No challenge I will ever offer will be for an orgasm, Nadia. At most, you'd get a single night of edging, tied down, under the otherworldly tongues of the silent attendants. Would you risk a day in the needle frame for that, like Ana? For you, of course, we would have nothing less than the foot and toe pads included in that forfeit? Would you risk a month or more in your rubber suit and sleeping bag for that? How regular would you ask for such challenges? Their tongues are… irresistible. Ask Ana if you want to know just how good they feel."
Nadia gasped, her nails biting into her palms. A flicker of longing burned through her, shameful and undeniable. She felt her wetness.
"What if I can just endure instead?" she whispered. "I lasted six months already."
Evelyn arched a brow. "Do you really think you can? Look at yourself. You’re a ghost, a husk of what you used to be. Sunken eyes, dark shadows. You can’t sleep properly. You are breaking, Nadia. You begged for a game just weeks ago. And what did I say? No. Because as long as Elise refuses to let you gamble for a single orgasm, I will keep saying no."
Nadia’s throat tightened. "So I don’t have a choice."
Evelyn shrugged. "Oh, you do. But if you can’t endure permanent chastity with the little toy in your belt, and want to end that, then I want to see real risk from you. You know what that means. You want complete freedom? You have to be willing to stake something of real significance."
Nadia inhaled sharply, her stomach twisting into knots. She knew what Evelyn was talking about. She hated Evelyn in that moment - hated how easily she dismantled her defenses, how perfectly she knew every crack in her resolve.
"You’re cruel."
Evelyn smirked. "No, darling. I’m honest. And right now, I’m offering you something no one else will. A way out."
Nadia sat in silence, her heart hammering against her ribs. Could she do it? Could she finish Elise for good?
Evelyn’s voice softened, almost coaxing now. "I don’t offer this to just anyone, Nadia. But you have potential. You have fire. And I’d hate to see it wasted. Your legs are strong, but are your soles?" Evelyn glanced down at Nadia’s high heels, a knowing smirk playing at her lips. "They’ve always been your weakness, haven’t they? Too soft. Too delicate. Always so beautiful, always admired, but never strong enough to win."
Nadia’s fingers curled into fists. "You think my feet are weak? Elise’s feet will be worse. She spent a year in the coffin. How much strength do you think she has left? How much endurance do you think she built while lying still?"
Evelyn laughed softly, tilting her head. "Now, that’s the spirit. But you’ve lost more often than you’ve won, Nadia. And why? Because when the pain sets in, when the needles push into your soles, you hesitate. You falter. You crumble. And everyone sees it. This is where you need to train. Elise is still weakened from her time in the coffin. She had stim pads, sure, but she lost muscle mass in there. She’s angry, reckless, careless. She won’t be able to judge the risk. You can."
Nadia hesitated.
"If you want to face her on your terms, now is the time. Otherwise, what are your odds to win a solo challenge when she presses you with her social media? And if you win that challenge, it might save you from exposure but I doubt Elise will include a single orgasm in the prize. In a duel, at this time, you have a good chance. The only chance to keep your privacy, be safe from her, and get rid of the belt."
Nadia’s fingers trembled. "Can you at least remove the latex extension? So I can focus on training?"
Evelyn’s expression didn’t change. "No. This is about your soles, not your languished pussy. You carry your burden. She carries hers. If you want to prove something, then prove that you can endure."
Nadia stared at her, a storm of emotions crashing inside her. And for the first time in weeks, she felt something shift. It was deep, unsettling - a tremor that wasn’t quite fear, wasn’t quite resolve. Something was unraveling, breaking apart beneath the weight of inevitability. She wasn’t sure if it was strength or final, irreversible surrender.
She inhaled slowly, steadying herself against the cold grip in her chest. "Tell me the terms." Evelyn’s lips curled into something victorious. "That’s my girl."
She leaned forward, the wine glass forgotten. "Of course, we can't have just any duel. The audience demands spectacle. The owners demand something… decisive. You and Elise, two women bound by a past rivalry, will step onto the stage in front of everyone. This will be a duel fought with your very soles. No weapons but balance, endurance, and sheer willpower. The highest, most punishing needle-lined heels ever worn in Abyss. Full sensor-controlled latex bodysuits, outfitted with interior nodules designed to ensure there is never a moment of stillness. The slightest hesitation, the smallest misstep - punished. The rhythm will dictate your endurance. Long, slow, intricate sequences. As many songs as it takes. The dance will demand perfection. No escape. No reprieve. And the one who falters first…"
The blood drained from Nadia’s face. Her fingers trembled where they rested in her lap. The words sat on her tongue like poison, heavy and thick and impossible to swallow. She didn’t want to say it, to acknowledge it, to make it final. The forfeit, they both knew it. Elise knew it. But it had to be said aloud. The silence stretched on, suffocating, and Evelyn’s gaze never wavered.
Nadia’s lips parted, dry, unsteady. She swallowed hard, breath shallow, and whispered, "…retires into the rubber coffin."
The words barely left her mouth before a shudder wracked through her, violent and involuntary. She gripped the arms of her chair, nails biting into the material, her lungs barely able to draw breath. The phrase echoed in her skull, looping, unrelenting.
Evelyn nodded, slow and deliberate. Her smirk deepened, but she waited.
Then, after a long, agonizing pause, she added. "Permanently."
The word fell like a heavy stone into a dark lake. The ground beneath her seemed to tilt, the air in the room thinning. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might crack her ribs. Her stomach twisted into knots so tight they were suffocating. She had known - she had always known - but hearing it aloud shattered any fragile illusions she might have still clung to.
The weight of it pressed down on her chest, pushing the breath from her lungs. Permanently. There was no escape, no appeal, no mercy. Whoever lost would never leave Abyss again. Never walk free. Never be anything but a silent, helpless fixture beneath the glass stage, forgotten except as a spectacle for the masses.
She exhaled sharply, ragged, her entire body trembling. The abyss had finally opened at her feet, yawning, waiting, and she had only one choice - to step forward or to break before she even began. She was not orbiting the threat of the coffin anymore, she was spiraling down into it.
She nodded, barely perceptible, her voice a whisper. "I accept."
Evelyn’s smile widened, satisfied. "Good girl."
The game was set.
And the Abyss was ready to claim its next sacrifice.
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked back at Evelyn. "Set it up."
Evelyn's expression was a mask of satisfaction. "It is already in motion."
Nadia returned home that night, but sleep never came. She lay sprawled on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her breath uneven. The belt was merciless, a silent, unyielding presence wrapped around her. The latex extension nestled within her was more insidious than ever, keeping her in a constant state of gnawing, unbearable torment. She shifted under the covers, but there was no relief, only an endless, maddening sensation that refused to fade.
She had agreed to the duel. The reality of it pressed into her as much as the cold, unyielding belt itself.
One week. That was all she had. One week until she faced Elise on the stage, until the club pulsed with the rhythm of their battle. And the loser… Nadia exhaled sharply, clenching her jaw. Retires into the rubber coffin.
Her own words echoed in her head. She had spoken them aloud to Evelyn, sealing her own fate with them.
The thought twisted her insides, sending a chill through her body despite the oppressive heat that the belt had forced upon her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm, but it was impossible. The anticipation alone was eating her alive. Her body shuddered, nerves on fire from the torment she had endured for months, and now she had to face the ultimate gamble.
She curled into herself, gripping the sheets tightly, trying to breathe through the storm inside her. Alexandru had been right. She had sat across from him in that café months ago, dismissing his warnings, believing she could hold onto something of herself:
"But one day, Evelyn will call you to her office with an offer. And when she does, you’ll consider it." he had said.
She had ignored him. But now, here she was. She had to win. She had to survive. She had to prove that she wasn’t meant to be another lost soul in Abyss, sealed away beneath the stage, turned into nothing more than a spectacle for the patrons to marvel at.
She turned onto her side, the sheets tangling around her. The latex extension slid just over her nether lips again, wet, demanding, a cruel, calculated reminder of what was at stake. She wanted to rip it off, to scream, to demand Evelyn release her for just a moment’s respite - but that was the point, wasn’t it? This was Evelyn’s way of preparing her. Breaking her just enough so that she would walk into the duel desperate for release, desperate enough to risk everything.
Her body tensed as another wave of frustration hit her. She felt like she was coming apart, her thoughts unraveling alongside her resolve. There was no peace in this belt. No peace in the knowledge that soon, someone - either her or Elise - would be locked away forever.
And she knew what that truly meant. The occupant of the coffin would never experience orgasm again, never knowing relief from the torment imposed upon them. The belt was cruel, but the coffin was eternal. It would not just confine the body - it would entrap every unfulfilled desire, ensuring that desperation would stretch on without end. The thought of Elise suffering through that forever, or worse, herself, made Nadia’s breath hitch in her throat.
Her nails dug into her palm as she gritted her teeth. She refused to be the one who lost. She refused to let Elise take her place in that world of silent, ceaseless suffering. But deep down, a dark fear whispered to her: What if I do lose? What if I’m not strong enough?
She shook her head violently, forcing the thoughts away. She couldn’t afford doubt. Not now. And the loser – Nadia shuddered – retires into the rubber coffin. Oh god.
Forcing herself to sit up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet firmly on the floor. Her body trembled, a mixture of exhaustion and the relentless, teasing torment of the belt. She was sweating, her skin feverish, her breathing uneven. One week. One week to endure this, to hold herself together. She’d practice every day on her dance moves, building her stamina. Dancing with the latex extension, it would leave her in tatters.
But she would survive it.
She had to.
Elise sat in Evelyn’s private chamber, fingers drumming erratically on the armrest of her chair. The dim glow of the overhead chandeliers cast flickering light on her face, emphasizing the hollow sharpness of her cheeks that her time in the coffin had left behind. Though her body had regained its former health, her mind still wavered between moments of clarity and deep, erratic fog, and sudden rage. Her hair had finally grown back, now a sleek short bob framing her face, but it did little to soften the jagged edge in her eyes. She was here for one reason.
To destroy Nadia.
Evelyn, poised as always, sat across from her with a patient, knowing smile. A glass of dark wine rested between her fingers, barely touched. "You seem restless," she observed, tilting her head slightly. "More so than usual."
Elise inhaled sharply, dragging her gaze away from the swirling shadows cast against the walls. "I want this over with. I want her gone. I don’t care how."
Evelyn’s smile deepened, though her amusement was tempered with something else - calculation. "You say that, but do you really understand what that means?" She set her glass down with a soft clink, folding her hands in her lap. "This isn’t about removing her from the game. This is about proving you belong. That you deserve to stand above her."
Elise’s fingers twitched. She hated when Evelyn spoke in circles, making everything sound like a grand performance rather than the simple, brutal justice it should be. "She should have been in that coffin. She should have been the one sealed away while I walked free. But I was the one who suffered, and she…" Elise clenched her teeth, gripping the armrests so tightly that her knuckles turned white. "She was spared. That’s only on her, her cowardice. Had she agreed to face me in a double challenge, one on one, or in a dance duel, I would have had a fair chance. But she refused and left me solo as the statue. It’s her fault I fell. She didn’t spare me by choosing one year over retirement, she chose to put me in the rubber coffin in the first place. It’s all on her."
Evelyn nodded as if she had heard this all before, unfazed by the raw emotion bleeding from Elise’s voice. "And yet, despite everything, she still stands in Abyss, desperate, broken, but alive. And that infuriates you, doesn’t it?"
Elise's head snapped up. "Yes."
"Good." Evelyn leaned forward, her voice soft but unwavering. "Then let’s ensure she doesn’t walk away this time."
The words sent a shiver through Elise, one that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. "The terms?"
Evelyn’s lips curved. "A public duel, as grand as Abyss deserves. Needle-lined heels. Full sensor suits that will register every misstep, every hesitation, and punish them accordingly. You won’t just beat her, Elise. You will break her. You will make her feel what you felt. And when she collapses, the verdict will be undeniable."
Elise hesitated, her fingers tapping against the leather armrest. She had come into this meeting with a different plan. "I was going to push her into a solo challenge," she admitted, narrowing her eyes. "She’s desperate, vulnerable. If I force her to choose between her secrets on social media or the coffin, she’ll break. I could make her gamble for it herself."
Evelyn arched a brow, then chuckled.
"A clever idea, Elise. But rematch challenges only allow a certain escalation for the forfeits. When she won against you, she earned a reprieve from the rubberization for a month. You can’t demand a year in the coffin for that. Or even permanence. I could allow a challenge for one month in the coffin. Three at most, if she agrees to escalate the risk. The rematch forfeit shall balance what she had won from you. Hardly enough for what you want," Evelyn explained. While the stakes between guests of Abyss were their own affairs, Abyss simply provided the infrastructure. But she, as hostess of Abyss, needed to ensure that balance was ensured. It would be balanced to see Elise take the same insane risk, giving Abyss and the owners a true spectacle. She would need to carefully push Elise towards her consent for a possibly horrible fate.
"And if she wins? We do not allow you to use the exposure threat more than once. Abyss has already covered your expenses while you were in the coffin for a year. That means her victory would wipe your leverage clean. She would get your waiver and then, how would you issue more threats? No more control. If you break that rule and violate the waiver by going after social media exposure for her again, we’ll demand repayment of the debts and compensate her handsomely. You can only demand one rematch. Article 7, clause 5, allows one, not repeated rematches until you finally win."
Elise’s face darkened. "Then I can’t use the exposure against her again. The waiver would of course be binding. I never break contracts signed by me. My reputation is too valuable. But I did a year in a solo challenge, not that one month maximum! You even let her decide if it’s forever!"
"My dear, that is because you were caught cheating. You were on trial. Be thankful you had a redemption challenge at all, and one that would have cemented your unfair victory if you had won." Evelyn nodded, satisfied that Elise understood the limits. "You would have one chance to ruin her in public, but if she crawled out victorious, she’d be out of your reach. You may get her again to agree to a challenge by offering small breaks from chastity, getting her maybe back into the suit or the sleeping bag by that, turn her into your rubber toy once more, but you have already had that and it was never enough for you."
Evelyn chuckled, a slow, knowing sound that made Elise’s skin crawl. "Oh, Elise. We both know this is more than that."
Silence stretched between them, thick and waiting.
Finally, Evelyn leaned forward, setting her glass down with a deliberate motion. "Let’s not dance around it. You want Nadia gone. You’ve wanted that from the moment you had the idea for a transparent, display coffin."
Elise’s fingers twitched. "I want her to suffer. The way I did."
Evelyn smiled. "Then why hesitate?"
Because I know what’s at stake.
But Elise didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she tilted her chin up, forcing steel into her spine. "Because I’m not a fool."
Evelyn hummed, tracing a finger along the stem of her glass. "A fool would rush in blindly. But a coward…" She let the word hang in the air, delicate, poisonous. "A coward would let opportunity slip through her fingers."
Elise’s jaw clenched. "You think me a coward?"
"I think you’re afraid," Evelyn corrected, smiling. "And I think you have every right to be."
The words should have stung, but they didn’t. They settled into the pit of Elise’s stomach, heavy with truth. She was afraid. Because she had been inside it, felt the inside of this contraption. Retirement would only be so much worse. That cursed coffin. One year locked in its unrelenting embrace. She knew what it meant to be held motionless, every muscle screaming in aching stillness. She knew what it was to breathe, but never deeply, never freely. She knew the madness of it, the cursed vibrator, the way time lost meaning, the way the outside world became nothing but a dream.
She had survived it, her mind barely intact. And she had sworn she would never, ever go back.
Evelyn’s voice pulled her back from the dark corners of her mind. "So. If you’re not a fool, and you’re not a coward… what are you, Elise?"
Elise exhaled sharply through her nose. "Practical."
Evelyn laughed. "Ah, practicality. A lovely thing. So let’s be practical, shall we? Let’s talk about terms." Elise’s stomach twisted. "Terms."
Evelyn leaned back in her chair, got one of the iconic Abyss’ black folders, crossing one leg over the other. "As I said, a duel. A proper one. Needle-lined heels. Full sensor needle suits that will register every mistake. You can break her. Just you and Nadia, center stage."
Elise already knew where this was going. Her nails dug into her palms. "And the stakes?" Evelyn smiled. "The only stakes that matter."
Elise’s breath hitched. "You want permanent bondage."
Evelyn tilted her head, feigning curiosity. "Don’t you? That’s what you had the transparent rubber coffin designed for. That was your very own demand. You and Alexandru enjoyed unsettling Nadia with this thought, knowing it was anything but an empty threat."
A part of her did want it. For Nadia, yes, but not for herself. A deep, ugly part of her. But another part… No. She wouldn’t entertain doubt.
Still, she hesitated. "That’s too far if I’m dueling!"
Evelyn sighed, as if Elise had disappointed her. "Then what would you suggest? A week? A month? Six months?"
Elise’s hands curled into fists. "Six months is a long time for me."
Evelyn nodded. "It is. A year is longer."
Elise swallowed. "A year broke me."
Evelyn’s smile didn’t falter. "And yet, here you are. Whole. Stronger, even."
Stronger. Elise wanted to scoff. She felt stronger, some days. Others, she was barely functional, not leaving the bed all day. The mental scars of that year lingered beneath her skin, woven into the fabric of her being. She wasn’t the same woman who had entered that coffin.
Elise clenched her jaw. "She showed me mercy once. She was the one who made the final call, and she didn’t take the worst option."
Evelyn’s lips curled at the edges, something between amusement and mockery. "Mercy? That’s how you justify it? And yet, here you are, wanting to undo it."
Elise exhaled sharply through her nose. "It’s not mercy! She keeps basking in that glow of being holy, sparing me. She is hiding the fact that she was a coward! If she had agreed to a dual statue challenge or even a direct duel, I would have had a fair chance! I lasted a long time before I slipped, even with the oil on the insoles. I made it past fifty minutes of the hour. I stood a chance. By rejecting the dual challenge and making it a solo one for me, she doomed me. Even more than you. That you caught me is my fault. But I blame her for taking the coward’s way out. She should have faced me. I stood a chance, even with the oil under my feet."
Evelyn swirled her wine lazily, her voice rich with amusement. "So, this is it. She was the one who put you into an impossible challenge and entombed you, not giving you a fair fight. You can’t stand knowing she was the one who chose your sentence afterwards. That she had control over your fate."
Elise answered louder than she wanted, "Nobody can take control of my fate. Nobody. It is my control. It has to be." Elise’s fingers dug into the arms of her chair. "It wasn’t her choice to make. But I know she hesitated. I saw it in her eyes. She thought about keeping me in there forever. Maybe she still does!"
Evelyn set her glass down with a quiet clink. "And that terrifies you? Or does it infuriate you? You want the same for her, even long before your statue challenge."
Elise’s breath hitched. She swallowed thickly. "It should have been me to decide. I should have been the one deciding her fate. I should have been the one to watch her break. I wanted her in complete chastity and rubber, permanently. Resetting her year with the enclosure suit and rubber bed. Extending her rubberization again and again in small steps. I wanted to see her in there for good. I want her in that rubber coffin for good."
Evelyn leaned in, her voice softer now, knowing. "And you can still have that, have your fair fight now, your revenge. You can entomb her in rubber bondage permanently without escape. Now, Queen of Rubber, what’s stopping you now?"
Elise hesitated, exhaling shakily. "There is the possibility I will fail. I cannot go back in there. It was a harrowing experience, an existence indescribable."
Evelyn laughed, dark and smooth. "Oh, Elise. You’re already thinking about failure? That doesn’t sound like you. What happened to the woman who crafted punishments so perfect, so unyielding, that even the most resilient souls shattered under them? What happened to the woman who designed the transparent rubber coffin to be permanent in the first place?"
Elise’s stomach twisted. "I never intended for me to end up inside of it."
"And yet you did." Evelyn’s voice was quiet, but there was no softness in it. "And now, you want to rewrite history. You want to undo what happened. You want to put her where you should have put her in the first place."
Elise closed her eyes for a moment, her mind replaying that moment - standing before the coffin, the weight of silence pressing down on her as she was sealed away. The year long slippery massage the latex had given her. The edges. Then with the algorithm’s adoption, even the edges vanished, stranding her on the plateau of longing. She had felt herself disappear. Her existence had been reduced to nothing but faint memories and murmurs.
Evelyn let the silence stretch before speaking again, her voice almost hypnotic. "You don’t just want to beat her. You want to erase her."
Elise’s nails dug deeper into the chair. "Yes."
Evelyn’s smirk widened. "Then stop hesitating. You have everything you need to make that happen. And let’s be honest… Nadia? She won’t be able to endure what you did. She’s already teetering. She’ll collapse faster than you think. And isn’t it even sweeter that you can be sure that she will not experience another orgasm again when she goes in there? So let us come back to discuss the duration."
Elise's gaze hardened. "A year wouldn’t be enough, Evelyn. Not for her."
Evelyn lifted her glass again, swirling the liquid slowly before taking a measured sip. "Nadia is running on fumes. You’ve seen her - she’s too exhausted, too broken to withstand what’s coming. Her body may still be strong, but she is a shadow of her former self, the stimulating extension in her belt is breaking her. And her mind? Her will? It’s fraying at the edges. Like yours. Only her legs are weak from all the unwanted stimulation inside her belt. She quivers when she sits down after walking a distance. And that’s all that matters. If a year is not enough for Nadia, then what is?"
Elise’s throat tightened. "This is not easy, if I have to be on stage with her." She asked, avoiding mentioning it herself again.
"Listen carefully, Elisabetha. When Nadia had the chance to be strong and seal your fate, she was weak. I installed that tiny latex extension in her belt for that reason. To make her weak when you have the chance to be strong. She is falling apart under the belt’s teasing, unraveling, unstable. Look at how she walks, unsteady, quivering. I installed that pad in her belt for you. So that you can take her. Now, are you willing to be strong?"
Elise stared at her. Her thoughts were running a hundred miles a second. Calculating odds and chances, her against that bitch Nadia. Could she face the coffin again, forever, against a weakened rival?
Evelyn’s voice was soft, coaxing. "Don’t stall."
The word hovered between them, unspoken. The true, final term.
Permanence.
Elise exhaled slowly, a tremor in her breath. "You expect me to stake everything?"
Evelyn’s smile was slow, triumphant. "You wouldn’t be alone. She’d have to do the same."
Elise’s mind raced. Could she win? She did have the advantage. She was the stronger dancer, her endurance greater. And yet…
Evelyn must have seen the calculation in her eyes because she leaned in, voice low. "You have something she doesn’t, Elise. Experience. Resilience. She’s broken already. You survived."
Elise swallowed hard. "And if I lose?"
She continued. "Your soles are very resilient. Hers are soft and sensitive. You have danced against her several times, and you've always won. When you can last until the missteps start, and the needles will join the dance, you can outlast her. She breaks when the needles kiss her arches. You have heard the way she shrieks when her soles get needled. It’s music for me." She briefly paused. "In your last dance you didn't even seem to care about the spikes in your own shoes. Why are you so afraid to take her on in a one-on-one duel?"
Elise’s heart pounded. She thought about the anesthesia gel. She had vowed never to return to that coffin. But there was another vow buried beneath it. Elise’s jaw tightened. She wanted to believe that. She needed to believe that. But part of her, some fractured remnant of the woman she had once been, still knew the danger of underestimating an opponent. "And if she finds the strength? If she - somehow - holds on? What if I lose?"
Evelyn let the silence stretch before answering, her voice smooth, measured. Evelyn’s smirk softened into something almost tender. "Then you prove, once and for all, that your creation is perfect. Then you experience what you designed, for the duration you designed it for. The transparent rubber coffin beneath the stage. The very thing you conceptualized, perfected, made inescapable."
She swallowed hard, a knot forming in her stomach. But she had vowed to destroy Nadia. "You simply have to ensure she doesn’t win."
Evelyn slowly shook her head. Laughed then, with a smooth, velvety sound. "That’s all on you, Elise. I won’t be helping you. No one will."
Elise stilled herself. "You’re not going to tilt the game? Make sure I win?"
Evelyn leaned back, taking another slow sip of her wine. Elise hadn’t realized that both Nadia and her were just food for Evelyn. "You already cheated once, Elise. And look where that got you. Do you think I’d risk my reputation for you? If you want to win, then you’ll have to do it yourself. She has been fighting her belt’s teasing extension for six months already. That’s all I could do within the terms of the original duel, and she is falling apart. If you still don’t take her up in a duel, we know who really is the coward here. Isn’t that what you accused her of? There won’t be any oil this time, in either of your heels. It will be a fair duel. You need to beat her on your own terms."
Elise’s throat tightened at the reminder. Her year in the coffin had been the direct result of her trying to rig the game in her favor, and Evelyn had been the one to orchestrate her punishment. There was no second chance. No more hidden hands tipping the scale. This time, it was real.
A bitter taste settled in Elise’s mouth, but she nodded. "Then I’ll make sure she falls."
Evelyn’s voice was a whisper now. "You have a choice. You can watch her continue to exist beside you in Abyss, beside Alexandru even, or you can end your rival. Truly. Finally. Say it, Elisabetha. Speak it."
Elise closed her eyes for half a breath. When she opened them, she whispered, "Into the glass box. Permanent bondage."
Evelyn’s smile widened wolfishly. "That’s my girl."
Evelyn’s expression was one of pure satisfaction. She added, "That’s the spirit, darling. Just remember - if she loses, you’ll have proven your worth to the world, Queen of Rubber."
The game was set.
And this time, only one of them would leave the stage.
Nadia stood beneath the dim glow of the streetlamp outside Camelia's building, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The night air clung to her like sweat, heavy with the moisture of late spring. Her body ached from restless nights and constant torment. But worse than the belt was the thought of what was coming. One week. One chance. And she had gambled everything.
Camelia opened the door before Nadia could knock. Her expression was one of quiet surprise, quickly replaced with concern.
"Nadia?"
"I didn’t know where else to go," Nadia whispered.
Camelia stepped aside without a word, letting her in. The apartment was dim, warm, the soft hum of ambient music from some corner speaker settling over them like a blanket. Nadia didn’t sit right away. She wandered to the window, arms still crossed, the belt pressing relentlessly against her.
"It’s about the duel," she finally said, her voice breaking just slightly. "I said yes. Evelyn pressured me, I couldn’t run anymore. I chose the coffin."
Camelia sat on the edge of the couch, watching her carefully. She looked concerned. "For what duration? Nadia, tell me, it is not for more than a year. Is it?
Nadia stay silent, her hands in her lap, lowering her head.
"Oh god, Nadia. You said yes to permanent retirement into the rubber coffin?"
Nadia looked up and slowly met her eyes. She whispered a hollow "Yes."
"You did what you had to."
"Or what she wanted me to. Elise played me. Evelyn too." Nadia let out a bitter laugh. "I thought I was being clever. Timing it right, before Elise comes back to her full strength. I need to win, now, to get this belt off. To not be exposed by her on social media. But now… now I’m terrified."
She turned to Camelia, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion. "I haven’t slept. I can barely breathe in this thing inside my belt. I keep thinking about it - what happens if I lose. Not days. Not weeks. Forever, Camelia."
Camelia stood and walked over, gently guiding Nadia to sit beside her. She took Nadia's hands in hers, grounding her. "You won’t lose."
"How do you know that?" Nadia snapped, her voice sharp with panic. "You think I’m strong enough? I’m barely holding on. I’ve spent the last six hours crying into my sheets, trying not to scream. This belt doesn’t let me rest."
Camelia squeezed her hands tighter. "I know you're scared. You have every right to be. But you're not going into this alone."
Nadia looked away, blinking fast. "This duel… I’m scared, Camelia. What if I can’t do it? What if I lose?"
Camelia didn’t lie. She didn’t offer empty reassurances. She simply said, "You’re not the same woman Elise humiliated years ago. And you’re not dancing alone this time. Everyone knows what she did. What she’s doing. You’re not just fighting for yourself anymore."
The words made something flicker in Nadia’s eyes. A spark, weak but stubborn.
"But if I lose…" she started, then trailed off.
"You won’t," Camelia said quietly. "And even if you did - it would be the end of your life as you know it. But it wouldn’t be the end of you. I know what the coffin means. But you are still you, even if you are gliding over the edge of sanity. And Elise? She’s terrified. That’s why she’s pushing so hard. Why she’s risking more than she needs to. Because you’ve already gotten to her."
Nadia’s breath caught, and she stared down at her hands again. "I’ve been replaying the moment I said yes. Wondering if I could take it back. But the thing is - I can’t go on like this. I can’t do another year, another week, with this belt teasing me to the edge of madness. I don’t even want release anymore, Camelia. And even if I ignore Evelyn, Elise will force me to a solo challenge. I just want quiet. I want stillness inside me again."
Nadia leaned forward, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. "I can feel it inside me all the time. Not just the belt, but Elise. Evelyn. Their eyes. Their expectations. I don’t want to be a human slug. A trophy sealed away in latex. I want to live. I want to feel like me again."
Camelia's voice dropped to a whisper. "Then win. Dance like your freedom depends on it. Because it does. But you’re not a puppet, Nadia. You’re a fighter. You proved that already. You can prove it again."
Nadia looked up at her, tears brimming in her eyes. "I don’t want to end up in there, Camelia. That coffin isn’t just bondage. It's oblivion."
"Then don’t let them take that from you. We train together, every night until the duel. I won’t let you go through this without backup."
Nadia hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. But I need to know you’ll be there. Not just to watch. I need to see someone I trust when I step on that stage."
"I’ll be there. I’ll be in the front row."
A silence settled between them, deep and heavy. Then Camelia reached for the blanket draped over the couch and wrapped it around Nadia's shoulders.
"One more week," she said softly. "Let’s make it count."
Nadia leaned into her, resting her head on Camelia's shoulder. For the first time in days, her body stopped trembling. The belt was still there, the torment still real. But Camelia's presence was a balm. A reason to believe.
One more week.
She would endure.
"Will you help me? Make me a better dancer?"
"Of course, my dear. Anything to keep you out of that glass box."
Nadia stood barefoot in the middle of Camelia’s small apartment, the late-afternoon light slicing through half drawn blinds and painting long golden bars across the polished wooden floor. She was covered neck to ankles in a simple black latex catsuit. Her heart hammered so hard she could feel it in her throat. The chastity belt she had worn for years was no longer merely uncomfortable, the latex extension installed inside it pressed and slid with every tiny shift of her hips, a slick, relentless tease that kept her constantly on the edge of madness. She had agreed to the stakes. Permanent bondage. In the transparent latex coffin. The same crystal-clear prison Elise had already tasted once for a year and still chosen to risk again. The thought of it, the vacuum, the AI vibrator, the endless, glistening denial, made her thighs tremble and her breath catch. She remembered very well how Elise had looked while being trapped inside it. No. That must not become her.
Camelia moved around her with quiet purpose. She had offered her apartment the moment Nadia confessed how terrified she was of the forfeit. "You can’t face Elise unprepared," she had said, voice low and steady. "Not when the forfeit is to live in the coffin forever."
Now Camelia knelt at Nadia’s feet with two pairs of black patent stilettos, one for each of them. In her lap lay a small file and a handful of thumb tacks. With careful, precise strokes she blunted the sharp points until they were nothing more than short, blunt nubs no longer than two millimeters. She pressed them into the heel cups and arches of both pairs, spacing them evenly across the heels of the feet and the sensitive arches, then secured each one with neat strips of thick duct tape, their point tips emerging through it.
She slipped her own modified shoes on first, rising smoothly. The tacks threatened to press into her own soles immediately, but she stayed on the balls of her feet while her face showed only calm focus.
"I was never good at enduring the spikes or needles. Evelyn said, my soles are beautiful but to delicate, but I’m not good with pain." Nadia said.
"I’m not good at pain either, Nadia," Camelia answered quietly, meeting her eyes. "That’s why precision matters more than raw endurance. If you dance flawlessly, the pain stays away as long as possible. When it finally comes, you stay precise anyway. That’s how you command the stage."
Nadia swallowed, nodding. She stepped into her own shoes. She stood on her tippy toes, the blunt tacks waiting under the tender flesh of her arches and heels of her feet. She felt them. Not sharp enough to break skin, but insistent, constant, like dozens of tiny fingers pressing deeper with every shift. She gasped softly.
Camelia stood beside her now, both of them in simple, glossy black latex catsuits. Not the same kind Nadia would be forced to wear on stage. That one would contain needle nodules as well. Their rubber clung to every curve, already warm from their bodies, already beginning to trap heat and sweat.
"We practice like this," Camelia said. "Rubber on. Sweat is good. It’s what you’ll feel under the lights."
Nadia was aware of Camelia’s aversion to the latex, after having had her own brush with the insides of the standard black coffin. They began.
Camelia moved first, demonstrating the slow, controlled sequence that Elise would demand. She rose onto the balls of her feet, weight forward, back arched, hips swaying in perfect time with the sharp rhythm of a harsh tango. The tacks pressed slightly whenever she moved, staying high up on her toes, but her movements remained fluid, almost hypnotic. She danced the full phrase twice, then stepped aside.
"Your turn."
Camelia restarted the song, and Nadia lifted onto the balls of her feet and tried to replicate the sequence. At first she managed reasonably well, her body remembered the steps, but precision was the problem. A fraction of a second too slow on a turn, a bit unstable, her weight a bit too back, a tiny drop of weight onto her heels, and the tacks bit harder under her arches. She hissed through her teeth but kept going.
Sweat already beaded on her forehead and began to trickle down her back beneath the tight latex. The catsuit trapped it, turning every movement slick and hot. Camelia circled her slowly, correcting with light touches, a hand at the small of her back, fingertips brushing her shoulder, guiding her hips forward, correcting her pose, her moves. Nadia shuddered under her touch through the latex. She remembered the time they shared that dance in the club. Their bodies moved close together in the confined space, latex brushing latex with soft, wet squeaks. Don’t moan, focus! Nadia thought.
"Again," Camelia murmured. "Stay lifted. Precision first."
Nadia tried once more. This time she made it halfway through the sequence before a misstep sent her weight back onto her heels. The tacks drove in sharply. Pain flared bright and sudden. She stopped, arms flailing for balance, and the image of the transparent coffin crashed into her mind like a wave. She sank to her knees.
She saw it clearly: herself sealed inside the crystal-clear latex, nude, bald, already thinner, the AI vibrator pulsing against her denied sex while the vacuum held her perfectly displayed under the glass stage. Patrons walking above her, looking down at her slow, languid struggles, her body twitching uselessly as the vibrator teased without mercy. Like Elise before. But now, forever.
A choked sound escaped her throat. She froze, breathing hard, sweat running down her temples.
Camelia was beside her in an instant, pulling her back up, one hand steady on her waist. "Tip toes! Breathe. It’s only practice. Don’t give up. You’re not defeated yet."
Nadia’s voice cracked. "But I will be. If I falter on stage… that’s exactly where I’ll be. Inside that thing. Watching everyone walk over me while I… while I twitch and my existence gets eroded. Elise designed it. She wanted me in there. And now I agreed to the same stakes. What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not precise enough?"
Camelia’s green eyes softened, but she kept her voice firm. "Then we keep practicing until you are. Precision isn’t about never feeling pain. It’s about dancing through it anyway. Look at me."
She stepped back and performed the sequence again, this time with deliberate slowness so Nadia could see every adjustment. She leaned too far back on purpose. The tacks must have been biting into her own soles, Nadia could see the faint tension in Camelia’s jaw, yet her movements never faltered. When she finished she turned back, a small, encouraging smile touching her lips as she looked at Nadia.
"Again. Together this time."
They danced side by side for nearly two hours. The apartment filled with the soft squeak of latex and the rhythmic click of heels on wood. Sweat poured down Nadia’s back, making the catsuit cling even tighter, turning every breath into a humid struggle. She improved, her steps grew surer, her posture more lifted, but every stumble still sent her mind spiraling back to the coffin. Each time the tacks pricked harder she saw herself sealed inside it: pale, hairless, her body reduced to a twitching, aroused silhouette under the glass while the vibrator kept her forever on the edge. The image made her falter again and again.
Camelia never scolded. She simply stepped closer, corrected with gentle hands, and continued. At one point their bodies brushed fully, latex against latex, warm and slick, and Camelia’s hand lingered a moment longer than necessary on Nadia’s waist. She said nothing, but her green eyes held a quiet concern that stayed with Nadia long after the touch had gone. Nadia shuddered and a soft moan escaped her mouth, only inches from Camelia’s lips. "The tacks…" she murmured.
When they finally stopped, Nadia collapsed onto the couch, legs trembling, soles throbbing. Camelia brought her water and sat beside her, close enough that their thighs touched again. She said nothing for a long moment, simply watching Nadia catch her breath, the faint sheen of sweat on her own skin catching the low light.
"You’re getting better," she said at last, voice soft. "But you still drop your weight when the pain surprises you. On stage that will cost you."
Nadia stared at the modified heels on the low coffee table in front of them. "I know. I keep seeing it… the coffin. The way Elise talked. It is as much psychological warfare than the actual dance. She… when I’m sealed inside it, dripping and desperate, while everyone walks above me, oh god. I agreed to it, Camelia. I agreed to fight her over the hell she designed for me."
"Did you consider to run?" Camelia stated simply?
"It would trigger the consequences. Abyss will take what I have, 50%. My job would not be not enough to support my rent. And apart from that, Elise will release the photos, confessions, and worst of all, the video. My parents would see it. I’d never be able to show my face again. Their daughter, who they think made it to a
respectable position in the city; a freak in rubber, playing games for orgasms while wearing a belt, licking another woman’s feet? I’d rather vanish, Camelia."
Camelia’s gaze lingered on her face a moment longer than necessary. She reached out and gently brushed a damp strand of hair from Nadia’s forehead, the touch light but lingering.
"Then tomorrow we practice again," she said quietly. "And the day after. Until your feet learn to dance through the fear. Until your mind stays calm even when your body screams."
Later, after Nadia had left, Camelia stood alone in the quiet apartment. She picked up one of the modified shoes, turning it slowly in her hands, her fingers tracing the still damp inside. Her thoughts drifted back to Nadia’s trembling form, the way her eyes had widened with every prick, the quiet desperation in her voice when she spoke of the coffin.
Camelia set the shoe down with a soft sigh. She walked to the window and stared out at the darkening city, arms wrapped around herself. The image of Nadia’s face, flushed, determined, frightened, refused to leave her.
She hoped, more than she wanted to admit, that tomorrow would go better.
Because if it didn’t… Camelia wasn’t sure she could bear watching Nadia step onto that stage and lose everything.