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  1. As some of you may, or may not know, I promised to post videos a few weeks back but after many tries with terrible lighting and visibility in each attempt, i have given up and I created this instead. I hope its any consolation for those who may have been looking forward to the videos, if those are any of you, so enjoy. Ps. Im not sure if this is posted in the correct spot but I'm sure il be corrected if its not. Have fun :) [edit] There is messing in abundance during the latter part of this story, you have been notified Not the Best Cat-Burglar May awoke in a uniquely inelegant position, face smushed into the pillow, behind protruding into the air like a sensor node, testing the humid atmosphere, and a bad back informing her of her awkward pose. She groaned in reply to her crumpled spine and proceeded to sit up straight, resting on her knees, ironing out the creases in her back bones as she did so. She harrumphed back down onto the bed, and threw her legs, one by one, out to the side, slapping them down onto the cold, tiled, floor of her apartment. It wasn't a glorious home. It took her all of about three seconds to cross from the "bedroom" to what could only be identified as a kitchen by the dirty cooking utensils and takeaway tubs scattered all over the worktop. She felt her way to the sink using her hands to guide her, turned on the tap and splashed water up on her face to wash the sleep and grease out of her features. She could now see and surveyed the mess. It was the accumulation of months of neglecting to clean her home. Dirty dishes with sauce, which might just as well be super-glue, she thought, as she pondered when the inevitable clean up would come. Her dirty clothes lay crumpled on the floor, over the backs of chairs. One pair of underwear even lay hooked around the kitchen faucet she had used not moments ago. Once more, she groaned at the world, and why it hated her so much. The world did not reply so she made her way to the bathroom. May made a loud entrance as she hooked her feet on some jeans-shorts that sat on the bathroom tiles and almost fell. She glared at them as she flicked them off her foot and wobbled over to the mirror. She filled the sink with warm water, lathered it up with a soap bar, and dunked her whole head under. Emerging with a gasp for air. She grabbed for a still semi-wet towel, due its crudely folded nature and dried her face off. She then went to work on her chestnutty hair while she studied herself in the mirror. She wasn't a flawless women by any standards but she was still very attractive, nonetheless. She had always been unhappy with the way she looked no matter what she tried to be. She had gone through fazes of straightening her hair and wearing substantial amounts of makeup to going all natural, and letting her hair maintain its original waviness. She had a small nose with a sharp point as the tip, most likely capable of cutting through steel. Her face was not über-slender but not bloated either, with freckle-less, ever so slightly puffy cheeks that complimented her nose in some kind of perfect facial harmony. Her eyes were big and bordering on being green but there was blue there too, no one had ever been able to decide. Her physique, again, was not perfection in the eyes of glossy magazines, but still beautiful. Her stomach protruded with the smallest and cutest of curvatures and the rest of her followed suit, rendering some incredibly memorable curves and leaving her with a bust not be ignored. As she finished drying her hair, and let it flop down across her shoulders in a big foppy mess, she stretched her arms out in front of her, clasping her left wrist with her right hand, cracking some unperturbed bones that hadn't full woken yet to which her body replied with a small gurgle from her tummy. She looked down and frowned at herself as her belly punctuated the last remark with a shorter bubbly sound, and then was quiet. She looked back up, still frowning, then shook her head, throwing her hair around, foofing it up, and went to stretch again when her eyes caught sight of her watch and informed her that it was sometime around eight 'o' clock in the evening. The big green (but maybe blue) eyes widened as she realised how hopelessly late she was. She ran out of the bathroom, skilfully dodging the shorts this time, and grabbed the most formal and ironed looking of all her clothing, a purple slim fitting dress, with floral like flairs at the bottom, meant to look like roses, and they did, after May uncrumpled them all and smoothed out all the other creases. Underwear. Dress. Check. She slapped on some foundation as recklessly as she dared, slipped on some heels and hobbled to the door, grabbing a fluffy, black cotton jacket, a small I.D. Badge with a picture of herself on it, and a pamphlet about some priceless jewellery that had gone on display at the Frinzi's Hall. She reached the door then stopped dead, slapped her forehead with her palm and ran back into the apartment, dropping to her knees with a painful thumping sound beside her bed. She lifted the mattress and fumbled until she found the custom zipper underneath, shoved her hand inside and pulled out a mass of latex. She quickly shoved this inside a nearby handbag which she grabbed, fastened up, and ran to the door with. As she got outside she hailed a nearby cab illuminated by the sun, spent from its long day reflecting off the New York scrapers. She dived into the taxicab, almost shouting at the driver where to take her and sat back, inwardly cursing. As the taxi hummed its way around the city, May had managed to calm herself down. Having been checking her progress through the metropolis she had realised she was making good time. Fashionably late is what she'd be. Yes, she smiled to herself. A smile interrupted by the sudden gurgling of her tummy. She clasped both hands over her front and leaned over her knees, shifting her bum into a more comfortable spot on the seat, wriggling herself an indent in the fabric to cocoon herself in. As the cab turned into a multi-storage it hit a speed bump, bouncing May an inch or so off of her seat, causing massive discomfort, and voiced this with a loud involuntary "ngh!". The cab driver called back asking if she was alright but she waved him away and insured him everything was fine. He didn't argue, but instead, announced their arrival at the Hall car park, empty, as all the other attendants were most likely chauffeur driven to the event. She acknowledged what he said, thanking him for the swift journey and as her mind wandered back to her stomach pains she realised they had gone. Her thoughts lingered on the topic for a while before she was interrupted by the cabby opening her door for her, more out of impatience than courtesy. As she stepped out she thanked him once more, handed him the demanded amount of cash and click-clacked her way across the car park dismissing her stomach pains as a freak incident, replacing her worried expression with her previous smile. Hips swaying, arms swinging and men's heads turning, May made her way up the wide, curved marble steps of Frinzi's Hall, the doric columns supporting the grand triangular canopy over the entrance, hosting colourful tapestry like banners advertising the evenings displays, the huge pyramidal roof in the centre of the building adorned with lights that flashed and flickered, on and off. All a bit too flamboyant for me, May thought too herself as she passed another group of gruff, low-voiced, staring men, grumbling on about something or other, their arms hooked around their trophy wives who seemed to be in a different universe completely, their minds frolicking in pastures of fine booze and plastic surgery. May reached the security desk where she smiled a flirtatious smile at the guard whose complexion remained emotionless and dry. She handed him her I.D. Pass which he took, then gestured at her bag, then at the conveyor belt that ran through the x-ray scanner. May, still smiling, placed her bag on the belt, bending over forward as she did so giving the guard a clear view of her cleavage. As she straightened back up the guards eyes flicked back up also to meet hers and then moved to look at the console. He nodded at the metal detector giving her the all clear. She gave him one last fleeting smile while he passed her back her pass with distain equal to that of his expression as she turned to walk into the hall, after which her smile had faded away. May entered the hall and was immediately very impressed. The pyramidal roof visible from the outside atop the building was inside, hollow, and home to a ten foot circular chandelier, its layers uncountable due to the number of them and the dazzling light of the diamond-cut glass that threw aquatic reflections all over the room and purple blotches into peoples eyes. May blinked a few times to clear her eyesight then proceeded through the room. The walls themselves seemed like museums all on their own with great religious looking pantings spread across every inch, bursting with history, juxta positioning with the bombastic conversations of over-wealthy middle aged men in rather expensive suits. The floor was a precision crafted mosaic, impossible to tell what of, but she could tell it would be something needlessly impressive. The room itself was a short cylinder, tables arranged all around the outside, draped with red silk cloths embroidered with a golden diamond pattern. Made by the finest craftsmen, May assumed. Fruity looking punch of red and green were evenly distributed among the platters of pricey foods. Expensively prepared Prawns, Caviar with toast triangles, Salmon with goats cheese and an unidentifiable herb delicately placed on top like some kind of culinary acrobatics. May's stomach gurgled once more but she ignored it this time and dismissed it as hunger as a result of all the fine smells and her lack of any meal earlier that evening. She wandered around for some time, picking at bits of fine food, trying very hard not to drink to much wine and throwing seductive smiles around like they were going out of fashion, watching men lose their hearts through their throats as she did so and every now and then, checking her purse contents were still their, more out of habit than anything else, by squeezing her hand bag. May reached for another spoonful of caviar but before she could get the egg upon her toast she heard a tap at a mic and the grating sound of feedback that got everyones attention towards the stage. As she turned to look she saw a young man get up on stage, taking the steps two at a time, clearly excited, and rightly so, as everyone was about to hear. He explained that this was the first time in american history that these priceless jewels have... And its a great honour... They are behind lock and key... Blah blah blah... May was only partly listening to the generic drivel that the man was so gleefully spewing out. She was concentrating on her stomach. About two minutes into the speech it had started to give a constant rumble, three minutes in and she had began to feel a strong downward pressure in her lower tummy. Both her hands were placed over her belly button and her legs were slightly bent as her figure continued to compress until she realised several people were staring at her, after which she returned to her normal posture with haste. She started to shuffle over in the direction of the women's bathroom at the far left side of the hall. This shuffle soon turned into clumsy speed-walk, heels were not designed for speed, and she almost performed a comical slide around the corners to the toilets when her heart broke. "Closed" read a sign in an annoyingly smug tone, her desperation doubled when she spied the lock on the bathroom door. May panicked. She couldn't go here and she couldn't leave. They don't let you back in for stupid security reasons and she couldn't sacrifice her plan. The hand she had been trying not to grab her behind with had now made its way around from her stomach and done exactly that. She pushed on her ass as hard as she could, breathing heavily, wiping a bead of sweat from her lower forehead, leaning her back against a wall just out of view of everyone in the main hall. A few quiet farts uncontrollably escaped her body as she slid down the wall onto the floor and jammed the heel of her right shoe up her dress and between her cheeks as more gas managed to liberate itself from her bowels. She tried to remain as emotionally composed as possible but she felt like she was about to let loose in floods of tears. Her stomach gurgled at her too give in but May did not as she whispered faint cries of refusal at herself. May had started to cry when the pressure started to gradually recede. The pressure faded and faded until it was no more and the end of the struggle was signified by two more short releases of gas and the de-tensing of all Mays muscles as she flumped into the ground, physically defeated. She stood up, wiped a tear from her eye, the sweat from her brow and composed herself. This isn't like me, whats wrong, this is ridiculous. Still trembling a little, she managed to walk out into the hall as if nothing had happened just as the presentation was coming to an end and the enthusiastic young man had skipped his way off stage. May spent the rest of the evening sitting in a chair at the side of the hall with her hands on her lap, trying to regain her energy after her incident earlier, waiting for everyone to leave. She was incredibly glad to find out that was not going to be too long as the full-of-energy young man announced with not so much energy that there had been a concussion due to the slippery floors of the ladies bathroom, and to avoid further injury they had been closed. This resulted in all of the wives, whose reckless wine guzzling had caught up on them, in some cases in a big way judging by a few small puddles on the floor here and there, dragging their husbands away from their meaningless chit-chat to somewhere more bathroom abundant. The hall cleared quickly and as the security kicked in, people were starting to be ushered out. May saw this as her chance. She targeted a particularly elderly man who had been tasked with the movement of the chairs from around the hall back into the storage room up at the right hand side of the stage. May approached him, put her hand on his shoulder, slipping her I.D. Tag into his pocket and told him that she would handle it. Obviously relieved the man thanked her, hesitated for a second, then just wobbled off to the exit. She watched him go for a few seconds, waiting until she was sure he'd passed through the metal detector and crossed her name off the digital guest list before she grabbed the pile of chairs, hooking her handbag through her arm and strided to the storage room. An uncomfortable looking woman greeted her at the door, one checking for security clearances and the like. She had her hands fisted in front of her pushing on the crotch of her dress trying to smooth out a patch of wet, and wiggling her knees desperately. She approached the woman, ignoring her half hearted request for I.D. and discreetly told the lady that she heard the toilets had been reopened. The woman craned her neck to try and see from where she was but couldn't and was about pass on the opportunity of relieving herself for the sake of her job when she bent over double, fast as she could, dripping a few splashes of water on the mosaic floor, and practically ran off to the bathroom. Everything was going perfectly thought May. She had not heard from her stomach in the last hour and was convinced she wouldn't do for the next part of the night. As she opened the door by kicking the push bar she let it slam behind her as she set the chairs down and broke into a full on run. She rounded the back corridors with speed not far from that of a cheetah and found what she was looking for, her layout swotting had paid off. It was a small maintenance room. A dark grey door amidst a grey corridor. It had a basic Yale lock keeping her from being inside but this was not an issue. She reached up her dress and unclipped a small safety pin from the band of her underwear. Bending it into a shape which you could call straight, she slid it inside the lock and with a few twist and turns the door swung open. She stepped inside and gently shut the door behind her. May surveyed the room. There were breaker boxes, bundling of wires that reached up through the ceiling, a series of levers for the main and secondary shut off, a bundle of toolboxes in one corner and some plastic container boxes and vents in the other. Just your average maintenance room. May set her handbag beside her on one of the boxes as she began to undress. She slipped her underwear off out from underneath her, then pulled the dress over her head and bundled them into a pile beside her handbag. She stood up straight, parts of her gorgeous body highlighted by the strobing streetlight coming through the fan on the outside window. She ran her hands up her body, her legs placed half a meter apart, stopping underneath her breasts, lifting them an inch, then letting them drop, bouncing against her upper torso. She bent her body over forward letting her long brown hair fall suspended from her head before sharply straightening her body out letting her hair sprawl and wind across her chest like a woman from a renaissance painting. She continued on with these exercises for a minute or so, after which she stopped and took a deep breath, satisfied she had limbered up enough, and reached for her handbag. Popped it open, and pulled out the suit of latex. This particular latex was custom designed by a company called EdnaM. May and the company went back a long way after various suit breakages and destructions, until finally, they adorned her thievery with a so called "indestructible" suit that she embraced in its full, latex clad form. The material was especially stretchable and friction-resistant, designed to be even quieter than wearing no clothes at all. The fabric was also water absorbent, thanks to an extra layer on the inside, to some degree, mainly designed to absorb sweat and bodily fluids from wounds and the like but May had always been lenient with that particular feature. She shook it out until it resembled the shape of a wetsuit and began to climb inside it. She poked her left foot through the left leg hole then her right through the other, then dropped the latex so the suit lay in a heap around her ankles. She bent down and grabbed the top most part and heaved it up over her shoulders so that it stretched the full length of her body from her ankles to her neck. May reached behind her and found the zipper at the back of the outfit, using this last loose bit of the clothing to heave the suit up and bring it snugly around her ass, which the latex held in place about a centimetre higher than it would naturally sit, leaving it big, but perky, firming up her figure. It left little to your average mans imagination, with practically no space inside of it, fitting right against the skin in every area possible. The legs especially, where the material was tightest and from her behind all the way through between her legs, up past her groin and against her stomach was a tight squeeze also. May took a hold of her breasts and fitted them into the purpose designed concaves inside of the suit, reaching behind her with the other hand to grab the zip and pull it up her back. She took a deep intake of breath as the zipper reached her shoulder blades and came to stop at the back of the collar. The outfit was a tight one indeed, with extra taut bands of the rubber elastic around the waist, at the heels, and wrists but thankfully not the neck. There was science behind the design, something about circulation maybe, but May couldn't remember it, nor did she really care, because it was uncomfortable and irritating and she disliked it. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small black mask, matching the black latex, that attached itself directly onto her face by hooking on her nose, fully completing the look. Boots were something that would truly complete the look, May thought, big black knee length boots, but boots are impractical due to the noise they make so she had always had to make do with what she had. She picked her dress up off the ground, ripping a long, thin stretch of material off it before stuffing everything into her purse which was dropped down the back of one of the boxes against the wall. She turned to face the other wall, using her thumbs and fore fingers to gather her hair up, tying it in a pony tail with the material from the desecrated dress, then paused. Her hand ran down her stomach and lingered at her groin, her eyes shifted to the side as if to check no one was watching, knowing fine that the room was empty, her lip pursed and she tutted in contemplation. Slowly, she lowered herself down on her feet with her legs bent and spreading apart, resting her hands on her upper legs, her fingers curled around her inner thighs. She tilted her head back and let out a long breath of air as the room echoed with a loud hissing noise that maintained for thirty seconds, then dwindled off to a quiet trickle, then was silent. May, having completed her needs, stood up and began to go to work on the job at hand. Her biggest yet in fact. The jewellery theft. Our burglar made her way on top of one the boxes underneath the vent in the corner of the room and got to work. She reached down to the left of her waist and pulled a small plastic disk, not unlike a small poker chip, from her suit, slotting it into the philips head screw, and with a few speedy twists, the philips head screw was no more. She repeated this trice, freeing the vent grate from the wall. It slid off and fell into her waiting hand and she gently placed it on the box to her right. May raised both her hands to the vent and prepared herself, a tricky manoeuvre followed, to say the least. She placed each of her thumbs in the holes were the screws hade once lived and the rest of her hand, with her fingers outstretched, flat against the wall on the area above the vent. She hoisted herself into the air, tucking her knees up to her chin, placing her feet on the patch of wall below the duct entrance. Quickly extending her legs, she pushed away from the wall and swung back, straightening her lower body and gliding into the vent, releasing her thumbs from the screw holes and flattening her hands across her chest as she slid a good few feet into the metal tunnel. The ventilation shaft was icy to the touch and smelled of rust, or something that reminded her of rust, she wasn't sure that rust had a smell really. She hesitated for a short while, waiting for her retina to grow, and her sight to return. After a few seconds, it did, and May started down the tunnel. She removed her hands from her chest and brought them up, over her shoulders, curving them round behind her back, and wedging them underneath her shoulder blades. Extending out her arms and pushing down with her feet she thrusted her chest and pelvis up to the ceiling of the vent so that they rubbed against the cold steel, and began her crab-walk through the dark. She'd progressed about twenty feet, and the sensation of smooth steel gliding across her crotch had weighted her breathing and started her mind wandering when, without warning, her bowels let out a loud, low pitched, gas excretion. May immediately snapped out of her daze as the noise echoed down the vent and thundered out the into the previous room. The distraction caused her to try and take another forward step with the wrong foot, this mistake plonking her down on the floor with a relentless thump. Most of the impact had been absorbed by the suits bubblewrap-esque protection layer, so May wasn't hurt but she was damn well bemused. She had never had this little control, ever, especially not on a heist. She stared down at her little bulge of a tummy and frowned at it again for a while, watching it rise and fall as her breaths grew shorter while she concentrated on her breathing, until finally she concluded by announcing "shut up" at her groaning stomach, which sequently stopped groaning, and continued on her way, trying to act unconcerned by the unusual chemistry going on in her gut. The vault room was silent and the atmosphere felt as if it hung in some kind of suspended animation. The matte black walls, inches thick, made the room feel even more claustrophobic than it was in reality, the low ceiling didn't help either. May had to crouch as she kicked the vent grate off its hinges, flooding the room with noise, and exited the impossibly small gap in the wall, pushing her breasts into her body in order to fit through the fifteen inch opening. Delicately, she took a couple of steps towards the centre pedestal. Her eyes grew with excitement as she stopped five feet short of the display case. Managing to glint in the darkness, refracting what little light the dark walls weren't greedily sucking in, was the very thing she was there for. The jewellery dazzled with impossible vibrancy in the dark aether, emanating vibes of wealth, power and greed. May was entranced by the terrible beauty of the piece for quite some time before she peeled her eyes away to study the rest of the vault. It extended back what seemed like miles into a menacing dark void, but it was impossible tell really how big it was. The ceiling was visible but barely so even at its low height. She could hear the humming of electronics in the room May restarted her approach towards her grand prize and stopped in front it, reaching for her poker chip screwdriver. May, excited beyond belief, quickly unscrewed the components that held the inch thick glass cube over the jewellery, and lifted it straight off the top, placing it to the side. She laid the jewellery down onto the the vault floor and went to reapply the glass protective casing when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach that came out of nowhere, followed by a long, incredibly loud fart, sounding like a comical raspberry, amplified by the lycra of her suit, sounding for almost a full ten seconds. It rumbled throughout the room, bouncing of the walls and returning to her as a haunting echo. She grasped her abdomen quickly and so hard she began to hurt herself. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain and the ridiculousness of her predicament, then quickly opened them again, checking nothing was hearing her, and it wasn't. The gas flow began to dwindle and quieten down to a small, wet, bubbling sound as her body ran out of steam and, May, red faced out of excessive blushing, tried to regain her bearings and complete the task at hand. Before she could get back to even thinking about the jewellery however, she felt a hot, tingling sensation around her anus, pressure building up in her rectum. As her stomach began to churn and swirl, May had just figured out what was happening but by then, it was too late to try and stop it. She sounded out a loud, high squeal, a sharp intake of breath mixed with a cry of pain as her lower stomach heaved a long pent up load out of her body. Mays anus had no chance as the floodgates were blown open and a hot stream of the brown stuff pushed its way around Mays buttocks, seeping through at the top and bottom of her crack. She tried to take a second long breather but the mess, seeing its chance, parted her cheeks and oozed through the gap relentlessly. Sweat fell from Mays brow and started a puddle on the floor between her trembling knees which she'd spread apart to ease the loss of the battle. The shit made its way to the seat of her lycra suit and the tight band on her waist, above her ass. With nowhere else to go now, it was deflected back again and slid in between her legs, up against her pussy where it reached the front waist band and was halted once more. The lycra being so close to her skin caused the excrement to spread thinly as it bubbled and squelched around the thigh section of her outfit, filling every nook and crevice it could find before gravity took over and started to pull it downwards as far as it would go. It was halted again a couple of inches above her knees due to the lack of any room and with now, nowhere left to move into, and plenty more still flowing through it began to stretch the material of Mays suit, ballooning out her ass and thighs, looking like a reflection in a hall of mirrors.The lycra began to resist expanding, pushing the goo back into, and around, her ass causing poor May even more discomfort. She let out a few strained noises before she shuffled her knees further apart, spreading her legs into a more open position and placed her small, shaking hands down and the cold floor in front of her. Between sobs, May grunted loudly, matching time with the contractions in her stomach, pushing as hard as she could, her hair damp with sweat, trying to liberate her load as quickly and easily as she could, and finding herself emptying her bladder into her mess as she desperately strained harder and harder. Her grunts and pushing noises became louder as the plastic outfit started to increase in size, way past its recommended limits, becoming a big black wobbly mass attached to Mays rear. Her body shook more violently as her rectum increased the rate at which it was pouring out the solid waste and she screamed out in despair and agony as the supposedly "unbreakable" band of tight plastic around her waist stretched and snapped sending excrement gliding up her torso, coming to a brief rest about an inch above her bellybutton before it began to climb again. It reached her breasts, smothering and sliding underneath them as it continued its ascent, reaching her shoulders and flowing down the suits arms, puffing them up in a matter of minutes. May's stance was still on all fours, but her back, disfigured looking as a result of the pockets of shit inside the rear of her suit, had arched and her hair was now completely soaked with sweat out of exhaustion. She was not holding back on the tears any longer and was making retching sounds as she bawled noisily into the floor, drowned out by the constant gurgles and bubbles of her unrelenting digestion system. After the brown mass had filled her sleeves it had completely filled the entire suit but May knew there was still a small amount more to come as the gushing from her ass slowed its rate down to a near stop. She brought her right foot round and placed it flat on the ground, then the same with her left, and pulled on the display stand to help herself up. She was completely deprived of any energy, physically or mentally, from her incident, to do much else than, spread her bloated thighs apart, place her hands on the pedestal in front of her and give one final long, loud grunt, releasing a small torrent of excretion, but enough to raise the overall level a few hundred millilitres, overflowing the suit and pushing shit up through her collar and around her neck. She looked forward, blurry eyed, into the darkness of the vault. Except it wasn't dark anymore. There was a rectangle of light at the end of the room, which was now visible to her. Two human figures emerged from it, one shining a bright torch in her eyes, the other came halfway to her, stopped, then jogged back into the light. This was too much for May and as her brain went into hibernation, she blacked out.
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