> COMMISSIONED AND WRITTEN BY [petoflatex](https://www.furaffinity.net/user/petoflatex)
>
> Rustle, rustle…creak…squeeeeeeak.
>
> Madeline blushed furiously behind the latex that clung tightly to her face. A long, smooth, off-black ‘mane’ dangled behind her, swaying gently with each movement she made. The blank pony muzzle crumpled slightly as she pawed helplessly at the rubber mask encasing her head, which gave her a squishy pony snout and flexible pony ears.
>
> Her fingers quivered inside their transparent prisons, vainly attempting to find purchase on just about anything. It was no use, though – the inflatable purplish-pink mitts saw to it that while she could still see her hands, they were both forced into utterly useless fists. All she could do was poke helplessly at her outfit through a squishy layer of latex.
>
> “Hhmmmph…!” Madeline moaned into the mass of rubber filling her mouth, wincing as the vibration made her more deeply aware of just how deeply stuffed her throat was as well. The taste of latex was strong and ever-present no matter which way she tried to move her tongue; the inflatable gag was just too wide and deeply lodged in her maw to avoid. She didn’t dislike the rubbery taste necessarily, but it was slightly overwhelming, as was the feeling of an inflated hollow mass of latex massaging the upper walls of her esophagus. This was definitely something she hadn’t signed up for…at least, not initially.
>
> Madeline squished the puffy latex bondage mitts together in front of her in a hopeless attempt to perhaps pop them. She blushed even more deeply when she heard the sound that was produced by the event, a cross between the loud creakings of air-filled layers of rubber and the soft squeaks of lubricated latex. The pressure from all sides was almost unbearably tight on her, as the mitts were indeed not the only puffy part of the suit she found herself trapped in. Every inch of her being was surrounded by air-filled layers of rubber pressing firmly against her skin. No matter whether she poked and prodded herself or did not, she was always being tightly squeezed in all the right places. Each movement took extra effort as though she was swimming through air, and all of the rubber creaked and complained as she tried to force the rounded joints to rotate the way she wanted them to.
>
> In a desperate bid to escape her predicament – inescapable as it was – Madeline reached for a stray air valve poking out from the mane dangling behind her body. She twisted her mitted hands towards it and tried to uncap it, reasoning that maybe she could deflate the suit and regain the use of her hands. But every attempt just ended in the squishy spheres bouncing away from the valve with a soft squirk! sound that drove the gravity of her situation in just a little more deeply. She didn’t know why she had even tried; the valve opened when it was told to by a remote, not when fingers (let alone spherical mitts) wanted it to. And even the mane was hard to get a grasp on; it kept wanting to slide its way out of her arms, almost as though it had been dipped in lubricant. She knew she was stuck, well and truly…and she could do nothing about it. At least it couldn’t get worse, right…?
>
> Tempting fate had never worked well for Madeline, however.
>
> She heard a light hissss, followed shortly by a longer, deeper hissing sound as the air valve opened without her intervention, and began sucking in air. Where her fingers before had a little wiggle room, they now had none whatsoever. She felt the pony-shaped hood pressing more insistently against all sides of her head, and felt the squeeze around her torso and groin grow to an almost unbearable, yet simultaneously sublime level. This drove not only the too-effective rubber gag lodged in her mouth to a point that was bordering on being called a deepthroat trainer, but it also pushed the…”guests” hidden in her posterior and privates deeper. She had almost forgotten about them as they had lain inert for some time, as well as the fact that from the outside, they were entirely invisible. But she was freshly reminded of their presence as she gasped for air and squirmed in place in response to their movements.
>
> She whined desperately as a blazing fire burned within her loins, freshly reawakened now and aching to be extinguished. This was such pleasurable torture; the creaking and squeaking sounds, the yielding yet still restraining pressure of the aerated latex around her, and even the knowledge that she could do nothing to relieve the arousal boiling within her. All of it served only to make her want to cum even more. She had to do something now. Decency be damned, being stuck in an inflatable suit be damned – her metaphorical rocks needed to be gotten off, now.
>
> Yet the suit seemed to have a mind of its own. As she leaned on the cello beside her, desperately trying to reach up through the suit to stimulate herself further, it seemed as though the spheres encasing her fists grew outwardly almost imperceptibly. This easily prevented her from squeezing the mitts between the open bottom of the sparkling grey dress that was clinging as tightly as it could to her frame. She wanted to touch herself so badly, but she just couldn’t squeeze the large spheres through to the area to apply pressure to her needy parts. Panting and squirming, she desperately threw all of her efforts towards grinding against the large body of the cello, hoping that perhaps she could leverage some pressure to rub herself from the outside. But it was no use; the dress and the suit itself were both too thick. Thanks to where the bottom of the dress was positioned, she couldn’t even grind directly against the neck of the cello if it had been directly below her – there just wasn’t enough space.
>
> “Fhhmk…cmhnnn…phhhls…hhhmmmm!!”
>
> click
>
> VVVVRRRRRRRRRR
>
> All thoughts of remaining calm and tranquil flew immediately out the window as Madeline suddenly felt the vibrators roar to life within her. She remained completely still with shock for a brief second before she arched her back and clenched her fists even tighter within the mitts imprisoning them. A wave of lustful fire burst forth from her crotch and spread upwards until it reached her throat, where it leaked from her mouth and became a long, drawn out keening borne of both agony and ecstasy. She could feel herself throbbing in more ways than one as she pressed her mitted hands down for leverage against the cello, thrusting again and again into the wood as the vibrators pulsing within her took her straight to the edge of a final, ultimate release. Normally she wasn’t so easily riled up, but she had been trapped for hours now. What had initially begun as quiet compliance and even playfulness had slowly turned into unrestrained arousal. All the time spent struggling within her tight rubber prison and shifting the alternatingly on-and-off vibrators within her had acted as a powerful aphrodisiac, and her toes were already curling as she got ready for the most intense climax of her life…
>
> And just as soon as they had sprung to life, the vibrators fell silent once more. The fire within her loins slowly faded despite her best efforts to grind, rub, or stimulate herself in any way. The only thing she managed to accomplish was emitting more titillating creaking and squealing as rubber rubbed against rubber, and the layers between it creaked in response to external pressure. She felt her attempted stream of upset profanity and begging quickly muffled by the latex pinning her tongue against the bottom of her mouth, and soon realized the futility of her efforts once again. She stumbled back from the instrument, pressing her legs together and rocking gently back and forth, trying to ignore how utterly wet she was inside the airtight suit, and how much she was half-moaning, half-panting.
>
> Bzzzzzzzzzzt!
>
> Ella was momentarily shaken out of her horny squirming by the sound of a buzzer coming from the large screen in the audience seats below, simultaneously showing a view of her constantly-squirming form, and now a small pop-up window with some scrolling text.
>
> “Well done, Madeline. We have all of the footage we need. Thanks for your cooperation. We will be around ASAP to turn off the vibrators from their random patterns. ETA is 4 hours.
>
> ~ Alice
> CEO of Caoutchouc Costumes”
>
> Madeline’s heart sank. Another four hours of rubbing anything on anything nearby, helplessly trying to climax? Another four hours with no relief from the endless sexual tension she’d built up so far? Another four hours of hoping to every higher power she knew and then some she made up that she’d do anything to cum just this once without being brought so close to the edge? Another four hours that might see her become utterly brainless and animalistic in her pursuit of getting off?
>
> It wasn’t like she could do anything to say otherwise, though. After all, she was contractually obligated to give the camera a show in the suit while everyone else did some other stuff elsewhere…she just hadn’t expected the experience to be so intense. They also hadn’t told her about the vibrators, the magical orgasm denial…oh, and the time lock, at least until she had to first put the suit on. On a sudden whim, though, Madeline had decided to go on with things anyway.
>
> That was probably her mistake and hers alone in retrospect, even considering what had happened soon after.
>
> The zipper had been sealed underneath a new growth of extra-resistant rubber triggered by the time lock…and she had then heard a quiet “oops” from behind her.
>
> “Mmmphhsss?”
>
> “…so you know how we needed six hours of footage?”
>
> “Mmhmmph…”
>
> “…yeah, I…may have set the lock for six weeks. Whoops.”
>
> “SHP WWWHHKS?!?!”
>
> Unfortunately, Madeline’s embarrassed suiter explained amidst a stream of muffled profanity and panicked moaning, there was nothing to be done for it now – the rubber was indestructible to anything non-magical in nature, and a counterspell would take about half a year to work out considering the enchantment’s strength. But these were the risks of being a beta-testing model, she had been told.
>
> That had earned the poor suiter a death glare unlike any other. Madeline’s panicking and anger did die down at least a small amount when she was told that the suit did have built-in life support; she would never need food or water while wearing the suit, as well as barely even age due to the magic surrounding every inch of it. These effects would rubber-band back to reality when it came off, though, so they would be providing a complementary feast fit for a king as apology for her predicament. She would also be compensated as if she had given them three straight weeks of footage, so long as she provided any further footage they did need (if any). These assurances seemed small at the time, but were looking a little better the more that time went on.
>
> click
>
> Vrrrrrrr — Vrrrrrr — Vrrrrrr — Vrrrrr
>
> The vibrators sprung to life once more, but this time on a more tolerable medium setting, quickly alternating between “front” and “back”.
>
> Now, even just half a day into her six-week predicament, Madeline couldn’t really stay mad at all anymore. Whether that was because she was hornier than anyone had ever been with no recourse in sight, or just because she was secretly loving the situation despite all outward experiences, she couldn’t say. All she could do was clench her fists tightly, squeeze her knees together, and channel her horny frustration towards a corner of the room. She began quietly counting the seconds until she would at least get some reprieve from this teasing as her hips thrust almost unconsciously into the air each time the vibrators switched turns:
>
> 1…2…3…4…

Third time I encounter this particular design of outfit for Octavia (after >>771579 and >>2321774)