Karen – Fetish Novel


Karen woke up slowly and peacefully. With a kick of her wedge high heel sleeping shoe, she removed the latex sheet covering her bed and stretched. She opened her eyes and startled. In front of her, on the wall, was a gleaming black female form, spread eagled, like a fly crushed on a wall. Wires were running from her pussy to a black box at the bottom of the wall. The wall was covered with white latex, and every item of the room was covered with latex. Even the solid oak bed frame was covered with a thin coat of transparent latex, giving it a glossy shine.

Karen knew who it was. It was Lynda, one of her maids. She had behaved badly the day before, and as a punishment, she had to hang like that for the night. 

The door opened, and a strongly built latex covered woman entered. She was, as with Lynda, wearing a totally covering outfit. Her face was totally hidden under the black latex, dark lenses in front of her eyes. Her mouth, full with a liquid latex filled gag, was sealed, and the only thing going out were the feeding and breathing tubes. It wasn’t really a woman. In fact, it was her husband. Well, her ex-husband. When she caught him cheating with another girl, namely Lynda, because he supposedly didn’t like her fetishes, she had him pay big time by transforming him into a latex female slave. He had been transformed into a woman, then sealed in a thick rubber layer, his/her waist tightly compressed by a strict corset. Now, he had pretty much the shape of a woman, and since he/she’s been walking on ballet toe boots for the past year, he was quite accustomed to it. In fact, she was bringing her breakfast.

“Thank you, Paul.” She said. She had continued to call him her man name. Just to make her not forget that she used to be a he, and she was controlling him/her now.

It was her fetish world, and she liked it. But something felt strange. She didn’t quite get her finger on it, but she really felt something was wrong, like she wasn’t belonging there.

Once the breakfast was taken, she ordered Paul and Janet, her now enslaved sister, to release Lynda. Janet had discovered Paul and Lynda’s new life and knew that they had been forced to do it, that they did not agree to that. She threatened Karen to tell everything to the police, so Karen had her turned into another latex slave, forced to obey her every command. They were all fitted with electronic inserts into their vaginas and rectums, which could deliver painful waves. Their eyesight and hearing were also controlled electronically. Everything was of course controlled by Karen. If one tried to escape, all of them would suffer. It could lead to death, but Karen made sure it didn’t come to that, just keeping them on the edge. They were not happy, and they hated Karen, but they had no choice.

Once Lynda was out of the wall and carried out by Paul and Janet, Karen proceeded to get dressed up for the day. Her basic latex catsuit was always on. She chose blue latex jeans, cut very tight, and a pink long sleeve shirt. She added white 5 inches stiletto pumps with ankle straps, and went down to her office to look at things to do today.

Her office was expensively furnished, and carefully protected by a layer of clear or coloured latex. She had a look at the stock market where most of her fortune had come from. Forty million in all. She didn’t have much to do of her day, except count the money that was flowing in, and taking care of her slaves.

She was happy. She relaxed on her latex covered lazy chair and almost dozed off. She was dreaming. She was dreaming she was a fetish novel author, writing a story. She felt sick and woke up. What was going on? Something was wrong. She didn’t belong here. She tried to remember something. Anything, of her past, but all she had was small parts, all leading to her actual life, but nothing else. No recalls of her childhood, her parents, friends, previous jobs.

She gave a few more orders to her slaves, to have the house cleaned, in case she was receiving guests. She found Janet to be a little slow. Having a 6 inches hobble chain and her wrist tied together, shouldn’t slow her down. A small jolt of pain and, after she would recover and go back on her feet, she would work more efficiently.

The evening came, and rather fast. Before she knew it, it was time to go to bed. When she entered the room, her three slaves were there, waiting for her with cuffs and leather straps.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. They simply showed the straps and cuffs, and suddenly, Karen had a flashback. Every two nights, she wanted to sleep all tied up, and they were there for that.

She told them to proceed. First, she was stripped to her basic latex catsuit. A heavy rubber corset was applied. It was covering her from the hips up to her neck. It was laced tight by Paul, compressing her stomach a good six inches. She liked the pressure, and rubbed her gloved hands along the side of it. The top of the corset was left unlaced until the heavy latex hood was put in place. It had padded eyes, nostril holes, and a big inflatable gag. Once the hood was in place, the neck portion of the corset was laced up, stiffening her neck and holding it into a straight position. She was helped on the bed, and she felt boots put on. By the angle of her foot, she noticed they were ballet toe boots. They were thigh high, had rigid boning and were laced very tight all the way. Then she felt the numerous cuffs being put on her on ankles, over the knee, at the thighs, waist, chest, wrists, over the elbow and the neck. Then, following a lot of tugging, she felt the different cuffs being linked to leather straps. Her legs were linked together, as her arms with the side of her corset, then the outside rings were attached to the sides of the bed, and the straps pulled tight, very tight. Once in it, she couldn’t move at all. The gag was then inflated to its maximum. She was ready for the night.

She tried to relax, but still had the feeling that something was wrong. Again, she thought about the writer, about her fetish story, about how an evil woman named Karen that was directing with an iron fist, or rather a hard rubber fist, her mansion filled with rubber slaves.

But… no. That wasn’t right. She was the writer. She was Karen the writer, and THAT Karen was a fictional character in her story. Everything was coming back to her now. She was a writer, a quite successful one, who had published a lot of her stories in fetish magazines. This was her first story however where she had given her real first name to the main character. She had written the story as if it was her own life. That would explain the missing information about her past. But that would also mean that she was dreaming, so she tried to get out of it, but all she could do was go back into the rubber bound evil woman. She would have loved to pinch herself, to wake up, but she couldn’t. She would have to wait for the morning. She spent the night like that, although she very much enjoyed it, getting wet at struggling out, and getting excited at what the next punishment would be, and everything one of her slaves was doing was a subject to punishment. Wrong foot first, wrong hand used, too slow, too fast. It was fun.

The morning came and she felt hands around her. She waited for her binds to be removed, but instead, only the blindfold part of the rubber hood was removed. Paul, Lynda and Janet were there. Paul was balancing a set of keys in front of her face. Karen opened her eyes wide and started to panic. She tried to get free, but there was nothing she could do, she was secured too much, and she knew too well what was happening, as the whole story was coming back to her mind.

When she was doing the bondage night, she would always program the torture devices of her slave to go on if she wasn’t released at the proper time for her to shut it down before the deadline. That was to ensure that she would be untied. After all, they were all latex slaves against their will, and were eager to take revenge. But with her mixed feelings of the day before, she had forgotten all about it, and she had willingly accepted to be bound. Now, she was restrained, and at the control of her three slaves that hated her. Paul approached her with a huge dildo plugged to the black box at the bottom of the wall.

Karen struggled, but the crotch zipper of her suit was opened and the huge object was inserted in, without taking care of lubricating it first. Karen screamed of pain through her gagged mouth. But it was just the beginning. The power hasn’t been applied yet. All of her slaves were now free, and they were ready to take revenge. The only way she could get out of it would be to write a quick ending to the story. But for that she would require the ability to move. The pain started on her belly. Faint at first, but growing rapidly. The story had taken a turn of its own, and she had no way to tell the end. She screamed.

The End

© Pete / monsterp63, oct 2001

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