Nipples and pussy. That was me. I was covered, trapped, in thin black vinyl, unable to move, barely able to breathe through my nostrils. Eyes, mouth, ears, fingers, toes, everything sealed in a shiny cocoon. I was like a leech on the open sand where he had left me like an offering. In the cool evening air, the only parts of my body left uncovered felt as if they were on fire. He had cut holes about my nipples, and carefully pizza-sliced the section of vinyl that covered my bare crotch. My ankles were staked into the sand so far apart it felt as if I were being split. I lay there, in the warm sand, quiet and waiting, feeling the pressure of the vinyl pressing in from all sides.
I could not know, of course, how many people touched me with their lips and fingers, that night. I could only imagine them as they approached me, wondering if I might, perhaps, be a sea lion washed up on the shore, or a corpse thrown off a passing boat. They must have been shocked as they walked closer and noticed the hardness of my nipples and the fullness of my labia. They must have wondered if they could, or should, touch. I know he was there, in the background, nodding with approval, smiling. He was laughing, inwardly, as I flopped around in repeated orgasm, unable to scream beyond the mask that covered my face. He was knowing how solidly this experience would bind me to him.
When, finally, I was left alone, twitching, he came to me. He sliced the skin off of me, as if he were filleting the last salmon. When I lay there, finally, exposed in the full moon, he spewed his sperm across my body and spread it across my skin until I shown, again, in the white shiny cocoon of his passion.