Short recap from Karen – Housemaid.
Karen had found a well paid job: housemaid. But it was done in a mansion owned by a man, Mr. Thompson, who liked all his maids to wear tight rubber outfits and be constantly restrained. Karen did her chores with flying colors and she was noticed by Mr. Thompson who offered her a job in the research department, where he wanted to develop a durable rubber that could be worn for prolonged periods of time.
Karen was eager to share her knowledge in microbiology, not knowing that Mr. Thompson had also dark plans, namely to develop a drug where the only cure would be to wear rubber.
A gentle yet unmistakable electrical shock in her vagina woke her up. She slowly squirmed into her confinement, unable to move much. She was laying on a narrow bed, held in place by a sheet of clear rubber maintained by a strong vacuum. She softly moaned in her gag, still feeling sleepy.
Another shock in her vagina, this one more intense followed. This time, she opened her eyes, getting awake. The sensors embedded in the suit to monitor her health status picked up her state of awareness and ordered the release of the vacuum. Through the dark lenses covering her eyes, she could see the sun entering by the window.
Swiftly, she felt the pressure gone. The arms holding the rubber sheet lifted, clearing the bed.
She leaned against her elbows and slowly sat, letting her feet ending with ballet toe boots, dangling. She stretched, feeling the tight fabric enveloping her. It was stretchable by 200%, but was hard to do, making the wearer very aware of its tightness.
She let herself drop on the floor, quickly gaining her balanced on her pointed boots without heels. She walked to the cleaning device where an enema was performed and her bladder emptied. She then fed herself with a nourishing paste before heading for the lab for her day’s work.
It has been one month since she was enclosed into her rubber suit. She was the guinea pig of her own research. So far, so good.
The suit was fitted with a long back toothless zipper, similar to those of sandwich bags. Her skin was checked daily. She was, at the same time, checking the operation of the high tech fabric of the suit, as well as the enema equipment and the food paste nutrients.
So far, so good. Today, she was getting out of the suit for one week, to see if her skin suffered any damage.
In the lab was Mr. Thompson, Sandra, a fellow chemist, and one maid she recognized as Caroline.
With precautions, Sandra pulled down on the zipper. Karen shivered as the air hit her skin, appearing cold although the temperature was quite comfortable. The rubber hasn’t stuck to her skin and glided off easily. Her skin was pinkish but not white as if it lacked oxygen, which was a good sign. Her hood was removed revealing her bald hair: the hairs didn’t grew under the rubber. So far the better. Everything was working as planned. The tubes were removed and a few skin samples were taken as well as nail clippings. She was handed a thick deep purple spandex catsuit to put on. She did and quickly hop back on six inches heels pumps.
She tried to talk but the last month of being entubed made it impossible. She knew that all should be fine in a couple of hours. For now, she was to do nothing, letting her skin breath the outside air again to see if there was any kind of after effect. The thick spandex allowed her skin to renew with the contact of air gradually.
She decided upon a walk out the back in the private park so that none of the maid could see her, dressed in something else than latex.
She relaxed by a bench, feeling the heat of the morning sun growing in force.
She recap the last two and a half years of her life, researching the perfect rubber suit, and she finally succeeded at doing it. The rubber, a mix of polymers, was very strong. In fact, only the sharpest of scalpels could cut it. It was also very stretchy, allowing a 200% expansion, but quite resistive to do it, creating a constant pressure. It was breathable, being wearable for very long time. If the results are what she expects, someone could wear this rubber for years without any skin damage.
Finally, it could be easily applied by spray, creating the perfect no seam, no zipper suit, and didn’t needed any kind of special equipment, simply the mixing of a hardener to the liquid solution and it would dry within 20 minutes, 30 seconds if ultraviolet lamps were used which also induced a shrinking of the rubber.
The only thing that was to check was the alter effects: did it damage the skin in a way that it would show only after removing the suit? A kind of dependency? But so far, so good. She could feel the warm breeze through her spandex layer. She took a deep breath and relaxed.
She was surprised to have dozed off. It was close to noon. She went back inside to grab a bite. It felt odd to chew food after a month of being tube-fed with the mouth filled with an inflated rubber bag. That had been her choice. She wanted to test the confinement to the fullest, even the dark lenses. Everything proved to be working.
It was in the middle of the afternoon when the first symptoms started to show. At first, it was barely noticeable, a small itch on her arm which she scratched without noticing it. Then she started to feel less and less comfortable, and she started to scratch herself more and more.
A trip to the bathroom to remove her suit and it was the horror: Her skin was bright red and full of little itchy bumps. She immediately rushed to the medical center where she met Sandra. She looked at her skin in amazement.
“Gee. Look at that.” She said, almost joyous.
“Why do you almost sound like you’re glad it did it?”
Sandra quickly recomposed herself, as if she had been caught cheating.
“Well, I mean from a medical point of view, it’s the best… specimen I ever saw of something like it.” She said, avoiding Karen’s eyes. “I mean it’s bad and not welcomed, but as a scientific, I mean, well, you understand…”
“Yeah, I understand. I also get carried away by my work and forget about the human being behind it.” Answered Karen.
Sandra seemed to relax, but she was more careful about her attitude after that.
“Now, Karen, we don’t know why you have that. It might be just a temporary after-effect or it might be a reaction of dependency about your compound, right?”
“Here’s what we’ll try.” She said, wrapping Karen’s lower left arm with a sheet of the special rubber. “We’ll cover it like that and see. If the itches disappear under the rubber we’ll have the answer.”
Karen put back her spandex catsuit and went on. The itching was getting stronger and stronger. One hour later, she was back to the medic center, asking for something to ease the itching that was by then, unbearable.
But instead, Sandra removed the rubber sleeve to discover that the skin was back to normal, without any itching.
“I’m sorry to say but it seems that you’ve developed an addiction on your rubber suit. I think the best solution for now is that you put it back on.”
“Whatever, as long as the itching stops.” Said Karen, picking the rubber suit and starting to put it on. A few minutes later, she was calm, feeling no itch, no pain.
She was devastated. Her rubber was perfect except for one thing: once wear it couldn’t be taken off. What went wrong? She found it hard to understand. She spent about two months in a pair of special rubber panties without anyone knowing, and she never suffered any after effects when she took them off. Why now? What was different from her panties?
Mr. Thompson went to the news. After chatting with Karen for a few minutes and inquiring about her health, Sandra led him outside the exam room, but didn’t fully close the door.
Karen’s hearing was dampened with her rubber hood but it was not comfortable, so she removed it. That’s when she heard the conversation.
“… yes it’s working, sir. Within 6 hours after she removed her rubber, the skin reacted. The only cure is for her to wear latex, unless we stop administering her the drug with her food.” Said Sandra.
“What’s next?” asked Thompson.
“Well, I will have to figure out how long the drug is going to keep working before another dose is required. If all goes well, we could start to spread it in about two months, there’s a big fetish party in Europe at that moment. It will be the perfect time to contaminate their drinks or even the conditioning system. Spores in the air ducts would be blamed for the illness, but with our long term rubber suit ready, it will be just a coincidence.”
“Very well, Sandra. Well done. Now, Karen will want to go back into her rubber suit. She would become our ambassador. That is just perfect.” He said.
Karen heard the footsteps coming back to the exam room, so she quickly pulled her latex hood down, and stayed put, as if she didn’t heard a thing.
“I’m very sorry, Karen.” Lied Thompson. “I guess you’ll have to go back to your rubber suit until a cure is found. You said that the spraying process was functional. Do you want to do it that way this time?”
Karen couldn’t hold it any longer.
“Yeah, right and be kept as your guinea pig? You drugged me.”
“What?” he said with a nervous laugh. “Where have you gone fishing for such a thing?”
“I heard you. The door wasn’t closed and I removed my hood because it was uncomfortable. I heard you talking about your drug to force people to wear latex, creating a false addiction.”
“So you heard. Well let me explain something to you Karen.” He said. “Perhaps only a dozen people or so are willing to spend the rest of their life encased in rubber. Developing that long term wearing rubber cost me a few millions. Selling each “suit” 2 millions is a nonsense. I have to get my payback by selling thousands of those, and the only way to do it is to create an illness where the cure is to wear that same long term rubber. The drug has been ready for quite a while, all that was missing was the proper rubber, which you developed with a resounding success.”
“But that’s not right. People have to choose to wear it or not, not to be forced by some kind of drug. I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you ruin the life of countless innocents.” She said, getting up, ready to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“To the poli… Ouch!” she said as she turned around and saw Sandra removing a needle from her arm.
“No, you’re not going anywhere.” Karen had the time to hear before everything turned black.
Everything was fuzzy. She blinked under the harsh light. She tried to move but couldn’t although she didn’t feel restrained. It was as if simply put, her limbs refused to respond. A shadow approached: Sandra.
“Oh hi, Karen. Glad you’re still with us.” She said with a devilish smile. “I’m sorry it took so long to wake you up, but we had to have an idea about how long the lasting effects of the drug was. Turned out to be about 12 days.”
“And it gave me the time to prepare your future.” Said Thompson as he got into her field of view.
Karen tried to talk but she felt heavily gagged. As she became more aware of her situation, she could feel the tubes running up her nose and down her throat for the air and the feeding tube going from her mouth to her stomach. She could also feel the catheters for the enema and bladder. She had been prepped for a long time in rubber confinement. Her gag was fully inflated but with something else than air: rubber.
Thompson approached and picked her up by the shoulders so she would sit. Her body was responding, changing position, but she couldn’t move by her own thoughts.
“You’re experiencing another drug that Sandra developed: the zombie drug. Basically, it paralyzes you, but you keep every position we put you into.” He said, picking her up and leading her to a central stand where he positioned her with her legs about two feet apart and her arms horizontal.
Soft rubber balls were forced deep down her ear canals, deafening her, then petroleum jelly was applied on the edge of her eyelids.
Sandra picked the paint gun and started the spray. Karen felt the liquid stick to her skin, wrapping her, sealing her. The coat was uniformly applied then the UV lights turned on. Immediately she felt it shrink, becoming tighter. She closed her eyes: she liked it and she wanted more.
Karen was able to open her eyes, thanks to the greasy jelly. Sandra approached and glued two spherical dark lenses over her eyes, applying a generous coating of the rubber with a small paintbrush all around the edge the lens. A similar process was taken around the tubes running out her nose, mouth and lower orifices. She then coated heavily the back of her ears and poured more inside her ear canal before putting a stretch band over her head, effectively squishing her ears flush against her bald skull. The UV lights were turned on. She felt her ears being sucked in as the rubber cured. It was also deafening her more with close to an half an inch thick of rubber inside her ear.
Petroleum jelly was applied over her lenses then two more coats were applied to her body and “shrink dried”. Although she knew it was meant as a punishment and a way to keep her silent, she liked it. She liked the tight embrace of the rubber, and the thought that she would be sealed in rubber for a very long time.
What happened next scared her. Thompson came in carrying a large box containing what appeared to be steel body parts. The first one he put out of the box has the shape of a body. Karen could read on his lips that it was to be her permanent corset, made of stainless steel. She wondered how it would be put on as there was no hinge and appeared to be a one part construction, but she soon found out.
The corset was covering her from the crotch up to over her shoulders with moulded cups. He inserted her into the corset sideway then pivoted the garment so it would fit her. He then produced large ratchet straps that were driven by some kind of electric motor. He fastened the straps around the body and operated the motors.
Slowly, the straps squeezed the steel tube and closed in around Karen’s body. It had obviously moulded on her but as she quickly discovered, her waist had been greatly diminished, by a good six inches!
Her eyes grew wide as the tightening continued well beyond her comfort zone of four inches. Once the back ends met, Sandra took an electric welder and welded it shut!
Karen knew that there was no way she would get hurt. Her chemically engineered rubber suit would protect her, and would not be affected by the heat of the liquid metal. All she felt was a soft warming.
The corset was welded shut and the joint buffed clean. It carried four rings around her waist and two more on the shoulders.
A high posture collar, also made of stainless steel, was welded around her neck. It too had four rings around it. Similar steel bands were welded around her wrists, over the elbows and over the knees.
For her feet, they were encased in steel pointed boots, without heels. They too carried four rings around the ankle portion and were welded in place.
Each ring was coated with petroleum jelly, then it was back to more spray. Three more coats. By then, Karen was starting to feel really worried. She would have simply no way to get out of it. With that thickness, not even the sharpest scalpel would do it. And with her steel parts, only a powerful laser would cut through it. Problem was that it would also cut right through her body.
With each layer, she felt her body being compressed more and more, everywhere there was not a steel band. When all was done, the rubber was easily peeled off everywhere there was petroleum jelly, showing her dark lenses and all the numerous shining chromed rings ready to tie her anywhere.
The tubings were cut flushed and ended with more chromed steel plugs, glued with more rubber, then cured.
Mistress Michelle came to take over. Karen’s arms were locked in her back at the wrists and elbows with padlocks. A 8 inches chain was put between her ankles. Still not able to move by herself, she was then carried to her new room. She knew that she was leaving the “staff side” and was moved back to the “maid side”. She was put standing up in front of a mirror as her bed was prepared. She was astonished by the sight: she looked so wonderful, with an extremely thin waist, long pointy legs and a gleaming black body. That was another nice feature of her rubber: it was always as shiny as a mirror.
She was placed on the vacuum bed. It has been modified to accommodate her arms tied in her back The lowering of the rubber sheet was commanded. She was sucked in place.
The next morning she was awakened up by the electric shock, but this one has nothing to do with anything soft and gentle. It was harsh and painful. She quickly became awakened and the rubber sheet lifted off.
She got up. She never had her body so stiff, and never had her arms tied like that in the morning. Regaining her balance on her pointed boots proved a challenge, but she managed. Deep down she was glad that she had trained so hard to wear ballet toe boots.
She hobbled to the cleaning station. She put her feet on the two marked spots and leaned against the wall. An arm lowered from over her head plugging into her feeding plug as well as another arms with double plugs fitted at her crotch. She felt being fed and cleaned at the same time. It was weird.
Once done, she stayed there. She couldn’t open the door, even if it had been unlocked.
Mistress Michelle came in. She was fitted with a standard serving tray and ordered to go to the kitchen. Her hobble chain wasn’t lengthened, and walking the stairs was not easy, but she managed. She swore that they would not give her the pleasure to apply more punishment. She would resist, and she would find a way to warn the fetish community about Thompson’s devilish plan.
Day after day, week after week, she was given different chores around the house. She was looked upon quickly by the other maids, but they knew that, whoever was inside that suit, was there for punishment, and that if they wanted to end-up the same way, they just had to feel concerned. So she was plainly ignored.
One day, Mistress Michelle led Karen outside, to the stable. There her collar was chained to a large wooden post. Still unable to hear, Mistress Michelle gestured to give her the chores. She pointed to an empty location of the stable and to a pile of loose hay, then to a hay fork. Karen understood: she had to move the haystack to that empty spot using the hay fork. As Mistress Michelle was leaving, Karen stomped her steel boots on the wooden wall behind her. She showed her tied hands, asking to have them release so she would be able to pick the fork.
“That’s your problem.” She saw Mistress Michelle lips say before she turned around and left.
With a sigh, Karen picked up the fork with her tied hands. She quickly realized that her neck chain was barely long enough for her to reach the haystack, and again, barely long enough to get to the empty spot. She knew that they were trying to have her fail, to punish her.
She went to work. She was quick to adapt. Of course, it took her much longer than someone not tied-up but she did the job. So well in fact that when Mistress Michelle came back at the end of the day, she was puzzled and was sure that someone had helped her. She was put back into her room while the surveillance camera footage was examined, proving that she did all that alone. Of course, they could punish her anyway, she was in no position to protest, but they figured that if they were doing it that way, it would only fuel Karen’s thoughts for revenge, and they were right.
A few weeks later, she was brought again on the “staff side” where Thompson was waiting for her. He positioned himself in front of her and spoke slowly so to be sure that she would read his lips.
“I have a new job for you. You will become our ambassador. You’ll be shipped to Europe in a few hours, the time needed to prep you… a very special way.” He said.
Three maids led by Sandra came in. First, Sandra injected her some food. Immediately, Karen recognized the sensation: she was being paralyzed again.
“You’ll travel into this, but you have to get properly… wrapped.” She said, pointing to a long shiny black steel tube, opened in half along its length. The bottom end was flat and the top end was rounded. It looked like a giant vibrator. Karen had a glimpse of the life support systems inside: air pump, food and water supply and something else she couldn’t figure out the use.
She was first wrapped in plastic wrap. Two layers were applied. Then she was put inside a tight rubber sleeve covering her from the feet to the neck. Karen recognized the material: it was her rubber. She figured that it had been cured at room temperature and that the shrinking hasn’t been done yet. And she was right. The rubber body bag was rolled up on her and then the UV lights applied. She felt squeezed even more, almost crushed. She couldn’t move a muscle.
Then they put her inside some kind of cotton bag. Karen recognized it as the body temperature controller fabric she saw other scientists working on in the lab. It was meant for prolonged exposure to wrapping or mummification where the subject can become very hot. It was covered with small tubes where a coolant was circulating, keeping the body at a comfortable temperature. She quickly figured out the use for that unknown device in the tube and that she was to be in this tube for a while.
Followed two more layers of plastic wrap and two layers of grey duct tape, and finally one layer of black vinyl tape. Her head was wrapped in all those layers.
She felt carried and placed on her back and plugged. She heard faint clunk sounds as the cover of the tube was closed and screwed.
Then she felt lifted. The cavity around her was getting filled with some kind of rubber foam, that was engulfing her and tightening as it expanded, rendering her completely immobile. She felt lifted by the foam, and it seemed to her like she was floating. It was total sensory deprivation: blind, deaf and almost unaware of the gravity. She slowly drifted into another world.
She was put on an airplane that was to be flown to Northern Europe.
NORAD center command, Near Earth Asteroids Research HQ.
The alarm blinked and the radar operator quickly realized that something was happening. He called his superior.
“How come they were not detected before? He asked.
“All our radars are aimed at the orbital plane of the solar system. These babies are coming perpendicular to that plane. They’re coming in from the south. According to this, they would probably just skip the earth in the upper atmosphere, but some might make it through.”
“And where will they fall?”
“There’s about 9 chunks. They will fall way up north, arriving over the Atlantic, landing close to the North Pole.”
“Very well. I’ll alert the central command. Advise air traffic control in that area to watch for incoming meteorites and divert air traffic accordingly.”
The commercial plane was flying to Europe. It flew over Eastern Canada a while earlier and was following the standard commercial route over Groenland to land in Northern Europe.
He was high up in the sky, directly into the path of one of asteroid chunks that was aiming to land over the North Pole. Nobody saw it coming. In a flash, the plane was cut in half, sending passengers and cargo tumbling down the atmosphere.
Karen’s steel tube was still intact, but was falling fast, tumbling, heading to some glacier at lightning speed. Karen felt shaken but she was very well protected inside her steel, foam and rubber cocoon, but the G-forces were there, and all that tumbling was too much. She fainted, not exactly knowing what was going on.
As she was about to hit the glacier, a chunk of asteroid hit the ice melting a pool of glacier water. Karen hit the water pretty hard, but the hard steel shell barely buckled but she quickly sank to the bottom. The poodle of water was surrounded by ice, and the water temperature was quickly dropping below freezing.
Karen’s steel tube hasn’t been made to go underwater. The air intake quickly started to pump freezing water instead of air. It quickly filled Karen’s lungs, still unconscious. When the lungs were full, the freezing water flown in to her stomach.
A similar thing happened with her cooling suit. The temperature control has been damaged with the shock, and the heat exchanger was now freezing the glycol running through the tubes. Karen was getting almost instantly frozen from the inside-out and from the outside-in.
As the poodle of water returned to ice, all traces of Karen’s presence disappeared.
On an unmarked airfield, on an undisclosed country, numerous Lear jets were landing one after the other. For an observer, their passengers would look frighteningly familiar: the presidents, prime ministers, generals, and other diplomats of almost every country.
They were quickly led to a vast hangar where a stage of fortune had been setup obviously in a hurry, with a projection screen. There were no chairs and all the politicians were all looking around in total chaos. A tall skinny man walked on the stage to the microphone.
“Please, calm down, time is short.” He said, turning on the projector that showed a series of chunks of rocks apparently in space.
“This is a photograph taken from a ground based telescope in Australia. We’re looking at 19 chunks of rocks. The smallest is about the size of two football fields, the biggest about 15km across, with about 6 between 8 and 12 km across. They’re heading toward Earth arriving from the south pole. They WILL impact. We already received a precursor asteroid earlier today that hit a plane over the North Atlantic.”
This silenced the audience. One voice raised over.
“The first chunk would hit just south of Hawaii, but with an angle of merely 15 degrees, it will create a frontal wave that will devastate the West Coast of North America as well of the East Coast of Europe. More chunks will follow, hitting all over Americas as many asteroids will break down into smaller pieces. The biggest chunk should also break down and spread over the eastern coastlines of Americas and the Atlantic Ocean. Then Europe and Africa will be hit as the other chunks will also break down and disperse. Australia will be severely hit for the whole time. The last asteroids to enter will hit again close to the West Coast of America.
We’re looking for a global heavy meteor shower here. Total devastation.”
A rumbling rose up from the assembly.
“Where is the safer place to be?” asked someone.
“I would say the far side of the Moon…” answered the speaker.
“When?” asked someone else.
The speaker looked at his watch.
“The first rock will enter the atmosphere in… 9 hours and 17 minutes. Any more questions?”
To be continued…
© Pete / monsterp63, March 3, 2006.
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