As every other morning, Karen woke up with the creaking sound of rubber. What else to expect when you wear a latex catsuit under latex bed sheets.
She stretched on the bed, feeling the crotch zipper pull between her legs, and feeling the relaxed sleeping corset tightly encasing her waist.
While opening her eyes, she was face with the same sight, again. Suspended in mid-air was a female form, tightly wrapped in black shiny latex, tightly bound to a giant X frame, slightly slanted forward. That was Lynda. That’s whom she was hired to take care of. She was a caretaker. She was Lynda’s caretaker.
While operating the electric winch to lower the rubber captive on the floor, she recalled when she was hired. She remembered that evening when the owner of her favourite fetish store had called her. “I have someone you should meet.” He had said.
Karen had gone. She remembered that tall and slim woman that greeted her. She had long brown curled hairs going to her shoulder blades, and a very communicative smile. She asked Karen about her fetish habits, what she liked and disliked, and if she was willing to take care of a rubber doll for one full year.
To her, that was on minimum wage, having an offer for $50 000 was quite interesting.
After taking a few days to think it over, she decided to have a go. So, Lynda invited her to her place, a huge two story mansion with a stable and a large forest property, to put in detail what she wanted her to do, the rules and limits. Karen felt that Lynda would never go through it, but she was the one paying for it, and the one receiving the … treatment.
Lynda was now on the floor, surprisingly steady on her pointed toe boots. No heel! Karen linked her wrists in her back and snapped a leach on the thick collar front ring and pulled. Lynda followed. She was led to the station. More or less a closet where the feeding/cleaning station was located.
Karen positioned Lynda with her back against the wall then kneeled to link her ankles to rings on the floor, keeping her feet apart and to plug two tubes at Lynda crotch. They were fitting on metal plugs located at her crotch. Then, after linking a chain to a link on top of her head, she fixed one more tube at the back of her helmet.
Ah yes, the helmet. Karen stills shivers when she thinks about the procedure Lynda went through for it.
Lynda already had a thin transparent latex catsuit with feet and gloves. For her head, she was first fitted with earplugs, and then a thin clear latex hood was put over her freshly shaved head, where a hair growth inhibitor product had been previously applied. Small wires from the earphones were going through small holes in the hood at ear level.
She was then entubed. Two sets tubes to be exact: two tubes going through her nose and into the lungs for breathing, and one going through the mouth to the stomach for feeding. Then a blow-up gag was inserted in her mouth. The center was hollow, allowing the feeding tube to go through. The tubes ended with small flanges which were glued to her rubber hood, sealing everything. Only her eyes were uncovered, but that was soon to be taken care of.
Another thin rubber hood was applied, black this time. It was smoothed down over the previous one. It had been coated with adhesive, so once set it fused with the transparent one. As with the first one, small holes allowed for the ear plugs wires to go through, as well as the breathing and feeding tubes.
Then her blow-up gag was inflated, not with air but with rubber paste. I was filled until her cheeks bulged. It would cure and harden within about 4 hours, the time needed to complete the rest of the process.
Five black boxes, the size of credit cards, and about half an inch thick, were placed evenly on her head. Three starting to the forehead and following down the neck, and one over each ear. The boxes had been moulded so that they contoured her head to perfection. Small wires linked all the boxes. The earplugs were plugged into each box over the ears. A larger box, the shape of ski goggles, was put over her eyes and glued in place. It was in fact two small LCD screens. No, she was not about to have any control over what she was seeing. The caretaker would. It was linked to the most forward box.
Following that, the hard shell of a full-face car-racing helmet was put over her head. It was just the exterior shell, without any padding. It was carefully put in place. The front visor was totally opaque, of a shiny black. She didn’t need it anyway. It rested on the electronic boxes. Her breathing and feeding tubes were connected to tubes inside the shell, running to the back where it went through the helmet through stainless steel connectors. A thick rubber flap was glued all around between the base of the shell and the base of her neck.
Then rubber paste was injected in the space between the helmet and her head. It was filled with a rather high pressure, until the vents oozed nothing but rubber paste. But it was no ordinary rubber paste. As it cured, it was creating gas bubbles, increasing the pressure, but turning at the same time as cushioning foam. Well, impaired as she was going to be, she was bound to hit her head a few times, and this was the best protection.
The pressure of the foam inside the helmet pushed against her already full mouth, increasing the pressure inside.
The helmet was fitted with rings on top, back and sides for obvious restraint reasons. And to think that this was just the procedure for her head!
Lynda was to stay in the station for one hour. In the meantime, Karen went to the kitchen to fix herself a breakfast. Her five inches high heels were clicking on the hardwood floor, and as she sat in the kitchen, she felt a little disturbance from her tight corset. But it was nothing compared to Lynda’s gear.
Her corset: a moulded carbon fibers body cast. That was pretty much what it was. A mould of her body had been cast, then a replica of her body made. The waist had been carved away until the desired size was reached. Then a carbon fibres mould had been made. It was cut in two pieces coated with rubber paste and then applied to her. They had to use ratchet straps to close it as it was extremely tight, and constricting. It was covering her from the crotch up to her neck, with only holes for her breasts. It was ending in a severe posture collar, keeping her head straight.
Then it was screwed shut. The rubber paste in addition to gluing it, made sure that any gap would be filled.
Her footwear: again, a carbon fibre mould of her feet up to her knees, in a stretched position had been made. Her feet were put inside the rubber paste covered mould, glued and screwed.
Her gloves: yep, carbon fibers mould again. This time, spherical. She has her hand in a fist like position, holding a handle. The carbon fibre sphere surrounds her hand and tightly reaches up to just below her elbow.
When all was done, she was sprayed with liquid rubber, all over, five times. She was totally sealed, and had no choice than to rely on outside help to survive. That’s where Karen’s took place.
She had a book of assignments to follow. Everything in the book had been decided by Lynda. Karen simply had to follow the instructions. Of course, many… assignments were left to the discretion of the caretaker, as long as it would not put Lynda’s life at risk…. As if it wasn’t
Karen’s breakfast was done. She walked back to her room and got prepared for the day. After looking at the agenda, she decided on a deep purple latex catsuit, black kid leather platform boots with six inches heels, and a red leather corset with white trimmings. She had a special machine to help tighten the corset. She felt her pussy get wet as the corset tightened around her already slim waist.
A last look at the agenda to be sure she was doing the right thing. Lynda’s viewscreen was displaying her agenda as scheduled by the computer, so Karen has no way to skip something or do something that was not planned. That was part of the deal: she has to follow orders.
And so far, after about 100 days, she was bored to death. Yeah, it was great, she could do anything she wanted, dress the way she wanted, eat anything, everything was provided and paid for. But she has to always be within reach of Lynda, to watch over her life signs, and at the smallest point of concern, call her doctor and in case of emergency, take her out of the suit.
But since Lynda couldn’t do much apart walking or standing still, it had quickly gotten boring. She managed to add some spice on ad lib days. Those were days where Lynda hadn’t put anything special to do. On those days, it was left to the caretaker to choose what to do. It can be as simple as tying her up on a frame and leaving her there for the day, or force her to take a long walk on the specially constructed paved trail in the forest behind the house.
One thing Lynda hasn’t counted on was that Karen was a computer wiz. Three weeks earlier, Lynda’s setup was of being mummified with 5 alternative layers of plastic wrap and duct tape, and then laid down on a table in her Egyptian display room. She was not restrained to the table. She was so heavily constricted that she was unable to move at all. The setup was for seven days, so she was constantly plugged for that period. For this whole week, Karen had nothing else to do than fondle around with the computer, and she was quick to discover that she could easily alter Lynda’s programming. So she went to work, making first small test modifications, then wrote a few completely new programs, waiting for the right day to put them in action.
To her pleasure, that was an ad lib day, meaning that she could use one of her personal software, which she intended to do.
By the time she removed Lynda from the station two hours had elapsed. She decided to play a little game with her rubber doll. She positioned her in the middle of the living room. With her viewscreen black, all Lynda could do was stand still. Suddenly, her viewscreen lit up, and she ended up with a view from… the ceiling! She had never planned that. She was supposed to receive either her own point of view through small cameras installed in the helmet, or specific movies, pictures or images, of course real image or computer manipulated ones. But it seemed that Karen had hooked up more cameras. Deep inside, she smiled. She too was getting bored of her own setups, and some fresh tasks were welcomed.
She saw a dot lit on the corner, and she felt a shock on her electrodes implanted in the dildos and her bra. The first shock was disturbing, but there was a quick one, more powerful that immediately followed. Those tens units could mean pleasure or pain, depending how they were operated, and this time, it was pain. Very bearable, but pain nonetheless.
Lynda was not stupid. She figured that she had to reach that area, but guided only by her bird’s eye view. After a few steps, she stopped! Yes she thought that something was wrong about the layout of the living room: it was mirrored!
As best as she could, she navigated around the furniture, going to her left to go to the image’s right. It was quite disturbing. When she reached the dot, her vibrators fired for 30 seconds, then they stopped. A few seconds later, another dot appeared in the opposite corner, and she received another shock. Then the image reversed back to normal view, putting everything back in place, but Lynda’s mind had to adjust. Then as she took her first step, the image started to gently wiggle, putting her out of balance.
Reaching that second point proved hard, but very challenging and amusing. Once reached, her dildo fired for two minutes. Then another dot, and more challenges to reach it: darken image, from the ground point of view, so she could only see her feet from under the furniture, cycling cameras, etc. Each dot she was reaching increased the vibrations by one minute.
She didn’t know how many dots she chased, she was exhausted and hot as hell but the dildos were not running long enough. Very frustrating.
After the last dot was reached, her screen went black again, and she felt Karen putting a leash on her and tying her hands in her back. She followed the tug. She knew she was going to the dungeon. There she was sitting over the sawhorse, her crotch firmly resting on the horse’s back. Her feet were linked to the floor and her helmet, through the top ring, linked to the ceiling. Her hands were put in the reverse prayer position and tied to the back ring of her collar, and a leather strap was used to squeeze her arms even more together.
Her legs, being held by D rings on the floor linked to the ankles, were strapped to the horse’s legs at the knee.
Then, what Lynda expected happened, her dildos started to vibrate and her tens unit giving pleasure shocks. Her pleasure grew more and more. At one point, she used the little slack she had at her crotch to push with her legs and raise herself just off the horse.
Everything stopped! No! she would have screamed. Not now!
At the same time, a little countdown appeared on her viewscreen, from 60, going to 0. When 0 was reached, the vibrations started again and the screen became black again. Without realizing it, she lifted herself off the horse again. Everything stopped and the countdown started again, but this time at 120!
Lynda quickly realized that Karen had put some kind of sensor plate on the horse, and that each time she was taking her weight off of it, it was resetting, with devastating results.
Unconsciously, each time she was reaching the orgasm, she was lifting herself. She lost her trial counts after 11 times. Exhausted, she finally reached it, but she was just too exhausted to really enjoy it.
The next thing she knew, she was back on the X frame, preparing for another night.
Karen’s setup became more and more elaborate, and Lynda was glad to have put so many ad lib days. She spent most of these days doing dot chasing around the house, or in virtual reality, riding horses or race cars, where each bump, each jump was initializing a firing sequence of her dildos and pleasure buttons.
Days and weeks went on much faster that way.
After the one year confinement, Lynda was taken out of the suit. She had to follow therapy for six months to learn to speak again, and walk on something with a heel as low as five inches. She still has to wear a corset because her back muscles didn’t fully recuperate the year-long of not working. Her hair has grown back.
She was sitting by the pool, along with Karen, both wearing thin transparent catsuit under more conventionally looking, yet rubber made swimsuits.
“Say Karen, that was a lot of fun all the stuff you did, but I bet that it could be more fun if we were two.” Said Lynda
“Yeah.” Said Karen. “I always felt left out. You had all the pleasure. Oh, it was fun to watch you, but I wished I would have been there.”
“What about the next time WE do it, you and me.”
“What do you mean? You want to go through all this again?”
“Yep! I liked it. But this time, let’s make it the two of us.”
“We will have to find another caretaker.” Said Karen.
“What for? Apart from putting me in fantastic situations, I didn’t need you. I’m sure you can program the computer to take care of us completely, and even call for help if needed.”
“Yes, I believe I can make a program that would do that.”
One year later, Karen and Lynda were going through the full enclosement, under the watchful eye of CLIF, Computer Led Integrated Fantasy.
Once the medical team was out, they were left to themselves. The fence doors were locked, and CLIF was put into action.
There was only one thing they had missed, one little detail they had forgotten in their hurry to get prepared. They forgot to enter a number of days in the duration field of the program. With no data in there, CLIF would be doing his job until the time equals nothing, until the End of Time.
© Pete / monsterp63, November 3, 2005
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