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Description
Art by whose style and talent never ceases to amaze me!

For those curious: I stored the four individual images. It seemed right to splice them together, especially since I'm channeling such over-the-top sci-fi bondage as seen in Arnie' work - and it would sometimes link together to form a coherent series.

Should you require the individual images for scientific purposes or more close observation, you can check out the high-res images. sta.sh/225w8uy3t290

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She was pounding on the glass, but nobody heard her. There wasn't anyone to listen; only dark lines that traced into terminal points as the corners of the room. Her breathing and sound was reflected through the tube.

It made for a peculiar auditory sensation. Every exhalation and exortation was echoed and filtered, the way light traveled through a prism. Sound came from everywhere.

A tiny squeak of trepidation came from her throat. She heard it, forced to confront with the fact that she had squeaked - like a pet - with unease.

When the black bands began to snake their way around her body, she was hardly surprised. She'd seen this a dozen times, fantasized about it a hundred more.

"Do you want something!?" She hoped her captors did. Maybe this was posturing.

"I'll give you what you want." She furrowed her brow, realizing that she'd just given away any hope of bargaining with some stupid slip-up. She swore to herself as the warm sensations began to wrap further.

"What if..."

She pounded on the glass.

"What if I said I wasn't Phantom? What if you have the wrong person?"

Nobody answered, and nothing changed. She was trapped. Being in her bathing suit made her feel particularly vulnerable. Obviously, it would've been a tragic, terrible, and highly charged thing to be captured and dumped into the tube were she fully clothed... but in her swimwear? It must've been intentional. She could've been stripped nude or dressed in anything at all, but she was left nearly naked - which somehow was way worse than being naked.

The latex smelled familiar, but it didn't behave like anything found in the wild . It wrapped aorund her legs, heated, and glued itself together. Then, it did it again.

The layer around her knees was already hardening. Thick, viscuous globs snaked its way up her legs to provide a second film over the first.

Her arms were snagged and placed at her sides. Each palm was forced to her rear. It made her more compact. Only the obvious curves of her female figure were visible; no arms to get in the way.

The second layer raced against the tape, but the tape won - slipping past her mouth. Globs of rubber filled her maw, and she felt it snaking deeper inside her. She felt it coat her gums. She tried to close up her throat, fearful that it would go further.

Her hair was now matted with sweat. The tube was so warm with all her exerted heat and the industrial machinery operating beneath her.

Everywhere the second layer passed became less human and more object. Identity was for people. Curves were for mummiforms.

She couldn't even fall down or bang against the glass. The platform to which her feet were now glued seemd to move in accordance with her body, keeping her from falling or disrupting the process further. A shiver went down her spine. It was automated. There was no negotiating with a machine that existed solely to keep you mummified and entombed away.

The gooey second layer was subsumed by a third. Beneath the outer shellac was a layered, rubbery little doll. Wiggle room was at a premium. Escape became a fantasy.

Of course, this was a fantasy as well. It was one she had rehearsed in her head countless times. She felt a tear well up as the rubber encased her face. Only the tiniest of perforations remained to allow the gas pumped through the mask into her lungs. It was hardly necessary, but it helped to remind her that she was totally and completely encased.

Ten minutes more, and her outer shell was shiny and smooth. There was no evidence of a woman inside. In that thick rubber tomb, she became an icon that represented something inside. She was invisible.

Description
Art by whose style and talent never ceases to amaze me!

For those curious: I stored the four individual images. It seemed right to splice them together, especially since I'm channeling such over-the-top sci-fi bondage as seen in Arnie' work - and it would sometimes link together to form a coherent series.

Should you require the individual images for scientific purposes or more close observation, you can check out the high-res images. sta.sh/225w8uy3t290

------

She was pounding on the glass, but nobody heard her. There wasn't anyone to listen; only dark lines that traced into terminal points as the corners of the room. Her breathing and sound was reflected through the tube.

It made for a peculiar auditory sensation. Every exhalation and exortation was echoed and filtered, the way light traveled through a prism. Sound came from everywhere.

A tiny squeak of trepidation came from her throat. She heard it, forced to confront with the fact that she had squeaked - like a pet - with unease.

When the black bands began to snake their way around her body, she was hardly surprised. She'd seen this a dozen times, fantasized about it a hundred more.

"Do you want something!?" She hoped her captors did. Maybe this was posturing.

"I'll give you what you want." She furrowed her brow, realizing that she'd just given away any hope of bargaining with some stupid slip-up. She swore to herself as the warm sensations began to wrap further.

"What if..."

She pounded on the glass.

"What if I said I wasn't Phantom? What if you have the wrong person?"

Nobody answered, and nothing changed. She was trapped. Being in her bathing suit made her feel particularly vulnerable. Obviously, it would've been a tragic, terrible, and highly charged thing to be captured and dumped into the tube were she fully clothed... but in her swimwear? It must've been intentional. She could've been stripped nude or dressed in anything at all, but she was left nearly naked - which somehow was way worse than being naked.

The latex smelled familiar, but it didn't behave like anything found in the wild . It wrapped aorund her legs, heated, and glued itself together. Then, it did it again.

The layer around her knees was already hardening. Thick, viscuous globs snaked its way up her legs to provide a second film over the first.

Her arms were snagged and placed at her sides. Each palm was forced to her rear. It made her more compact. Only the obvious curves of her female figure were visible; no arms to get in the way.

The second layer raced against the tape, but the tape won - slipping past her mouth. Globs of rubber filled her maw, and she felt it snaking deeper inside her. She felt it coat her gums. She tried to close up her throat, fearful that it would go further.

Her hair was now matted with sweat. The tube was so warm with all her exerted heat and the industrial machinery operating beneath her.

Everywhere the second layer passed became less human and more object. Identity was for people. Curves were for mummiforms.

She couldn't even fall down or bang against the glass. The platform to which her feet were now glued seemd to move in accordance with her body, keeping her from falling or disrupting the process further. A shiver went down her spine. It was automated. There was no negotiating with a machine that existed solely to keep you mummified and entombed away.

The gooey second layer was subsumed by a third. Beneath the outer shellac was a layered, rubbery little doll. Wiggle room was at a premium. Escape became a fantasy.

Of course, this was a fantasy as well. It was one she had rehearsed in her head countless times. She felt a tear well up as the rubber encased her face. Only the tiniest of perforations remained to allow the gas pumped through the mask into her lungs. It was hardly necessary, but it helped to remind her that she was totally and completely encased.

Ten minutes more, and her outer shell was shiny and smooth. There was no evidence of a woman inside. In that thick rubber tomb, she became an icon that represented something inside. She was invisible.