Karen – Boring Life

4.8
(8)

Karen was one lucky gal. She had a great personality and had a fit body without having much work to do to keep fit.

She had met the love of her life, Phil. He was handsome, funny, romantic, caring and a fetishist. On top of that, he was loaded!

He had made a fortune as a self-employed programmer. He had developed a highly prized software that was bought by a bigger company for an outrageous price. He was still continuing to work on softwares but more for his own pleasure and pass time than to get the income, although he had made a couple of other successful softwares which bring in even more money.

He had come forward about his fetishes as soon as Karen showed some interest in a high-class fetish magazine that he had purposely forgotten on the living room table. They had been living together for about a year then, and at that time Phil wasn’t rich and was living in a small dirty apartment. With their low income, they didn’t have much money to buy any expensive stuff, but they managed with off the rack latex garment and a few lengths of rope.

Then he struck it rich! They bought a nice mansion in a secluded part of the suburb. They had a large fenced private property, and with all that new money, Karen’s fetish wardrobe began to expand. It wasn’t long before made to measure rubber catsuits, pants, skirts and dresses were getting piled in the huge fetish walking closet, along fancy leather restraints and even a couple of steel ones. A pleasure room had been build, allowing for all kind of torture.

It was evident that Karen was a sub and Phil was a dom. And they liked it that way.

It started out one day that Phil had to go on a business trip for a few days. Karen asked to be put on restraints for the duration of his trip. She was dressed with latex panties, a garter belt and red rubber stocking, white platform sandals, a very tight red latex leotard and a black rubber corset. Her hands were tied in front of her with a length of chain, as well as her ankles linked together with a short chain. A wide leather collar was added.

She couldn’t add much more restraint since she was on her own to eat and get cleaned.

She liked it, or rather loved it. So much that it wasn’t long that, each day that Phil had to go out of the house, she would get tied up. Depending on the length of his stay, she was bound more or less heavily.

A few months later, he found a steady job as a consultant. He had to go to work 9 to 5 each day. Karen ended up bound five days a week, and then asked to be kept bound during the night.

Phil couldn’t be happier. He would get back home to meet his bound wife, waiting for him, inspect the house and punish her if anything was not right, go to sleep and wake up with a bound female by his side.

But after a few months they lost the mood, the spark that was there at the beginning was gone.

“What’s wrong?” asked Phil. “Can we get bored of fetishes?”

“Nah. I don’t think we’re bored at our fetishes, I think we’re bored at our routine.” She said, raising her bound hands, the rubber gloves squeaking in her leather cuffs. Phil took the key and removed the cuffs.

“See? That’s what I mean.”

“Err… I don’t follow you here. You asked me to remove the cuffs, right?”

“Yes, and that’s what you did. There’s no challenge. You tie me up because I want it, and you untie me when I ask for it. I don’t have any challenge.”

“But I can bind you more heavily…” started Phil.

“Yes, then what? I’ll try to do what I have or want to do and if I can’t then it’s okay and you’ll untie me in a few hours. No, I want more challenges.”

“You seem to have an idea. Am I right?”

“Well, I’ve been giving a long thought about it. Here’s my idea…” she said as she started to explain her plan to Phil. 

They concluded that it was probably feasible and they would adjust as it progressed. The previewed two weeks of planning before going ahead with it.

The New life. The Beginning.

They woke up with the morning sun and had a nice breakfast. It was almost 09:00.

“Well, almost time.” Said Karen, nervous.

“Still willing to go through with this?” asked Phil.

“Oh yes. Definitely.” She said with a large smile.

The old grandfather clock rang the nine dongs.

“That’s it.” Said Phil, getting up. 

But Karen got out of the table in a spin and ran down the corridor.

“Hey! Wait! What…”

Phil had barely enough time to turn around before Karen opened the back door.

She was running like hell to the back of their land, to a lamp post on which was fixed a bell with a hanging rope. When Phil reached the backdoor, Karen was already halfway to the bell. She reached it before Phil could reach her. She yanked the rope and the bell rang, again and again.

“Gotcha!” she said, all joyful.

Phil reached her, panting.

“You… you got me this time.” He said.

“One day with your hairs coloured green.” Said Karen, triumphant.

“That’s not fair…”

Dong! Another ring.

“Two days with your hairs coloured green.” Said Karen with a devil smile.

“What are you doing?”

Dong!

“Three days…”

Phil realized that he had to do something. He grabbed her hand, but she was quick to turn around and get a hold of the rope with her other hand.

Dong!

“Then you shave your head!” she said, laughing.

This time, he got a good hold on her and got her to the ground, holding her still, but she wasn’t to let go that easily. She was fighting like hell. He finally managed to sit on her hips and hold her hands away.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Well, I told you. A slave would not make it easy and would try to flee. Of course, I don’t want to flea, that’s why the bell is there, and each time I ring it, you get to do something embarrassing. Your goal is to prevent me from escaping, meaning ringing the bell. You have to hold your unwilling slave captive.”

“Yes, I know all that, but why did you run right away to it?”

“You don’t get it, don’t you. You have first to capture your slave. And I already told you that I was not about to give it to you easily. I want action, challenge. I want to get out of my boredom. Get it now?” she asked.

“I think so.” He said, swiftly turning her around and folding her arms in the small of her back into a reverse prayer position, then lifted her off the ground.

“Do you hurt?”

“Yes, a little.. ouch….” She said, so Phil relaxed his position. 

In no time, Karen had freed one of her arms and was trying to get away, but this time, she didn’t reach the bell. Phil got her back into position.

“I can’t trust you, right?” he asked.

She looked at him with the eyes and the smile of an 8 years old brat that ate a full bag of chocolate coated coffee beans.

“I’ll be a real pain in the butt.” She said. Then she started yelling. “HELP! HELP!”

Phil knew that nobody could hear her as they were too far from any neighbor. He couldn’t let go of one hand to put the other one on her mouth. He struggled to get her back into the house then in the basement to their special room where he took a pair of handcuffs and tied her hands in her back and locked them to the wall with a chain. Then he stuffed her mouth with a hard rubber ball gag. Karen was laughing. Phil was panting and looking at her with angry eyes.

“You’ll pay for that, you know?” he said.

For answer, she bent over and wiggled her butt in his face then tried to kick him in the groin. He grabbed her leg firmly and with his free hand, reached for a pair of leather cuffs. He fastened one around that leg and attached a chain to it. Then he fed the chain to one of the loop at the base of the wall. Karen was balancing on one leg.

Phil let go of the leg and pulled on the chain, dragging it to the wall until it reached the ring. He tied the chain to another ring. Grabbing the other leg was easy and he put the other leather cuff on and attached it to a ring on the opposite side, effectively stretching her legs by one meter. He then attached the first leg to the ring and removed the chain.

He then fastened a wide leather collar around her neck and fastened it to another ring to the wall. Karen couldn’t move, and couldn’t fight, although she was trying. Phil thought that he would rather let her exhaust herself and left.

Karen fought her bounds like the devil in holy water.  After half an hour, she realized that she might have been too strongly, too quickly at it. Her legs were quickly getting tired in this position. Her arms tied in her back were pushing her off the wall, creating a pull on her collar, and putting her out of balance. For as long as she was struggling it was fine, but now as she was calm, it became quickly very uncomfortable.

Phil finally came back with a notepad and a pen. He sat on the bondage table and started to take note, ignoring Karen’s pleas for release. 

“Mffuutt, mffuutt.” Said Karen.

Phil raised his eyes.

“You know Karen, before I would have untied you at the first sign that you were hurting, or like now, at the sound that sounds like hurt. But now that I know that you want to play it to the fullest, I’m ignoring it. As a real slave you have to learn to behave, and to do that, you have to get punished. So shut up and pay what you earned.” He said before returning to his notepad.

Frustrated, Karen started to pull on her bonds again, to struggle to get free, but Phil didn’t react. Karen thought that she might have gone a little too far for the first try.

After another half hour, Phil finally let go of his notepad and approached Karen.

“Now, listen to me slave. Karen has no meaning. You are a slave and will be treated accordingly. Freedom is something of the past. From now on, your name is slave, and mine is Master, that is assuming that you will be allowed to talk. Every misbehavior means demerits points, and according punishment. If you understand all this, nod yes.”

Karen was stunned. That was not how she had seen things, but from his point of view, Phil was right. She nodded yes.

“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He said, before leaving her.

Karen was alone with herself. She wanted spice in her life, she got it. She heard Phil get upstairs then come down a few minutes later then she heard him working with a power drill and banging something with a hammer. He finally showed up, holding a stainless steel bowl from the kitchen. It had been modified with three holes on which were hanging chains. He attached the three chains on a leather belt and fastened it around Karen’s waist, hanging the bowl between her legs.

“Pee and shit. I’ll be back to fix you up in 10 minutes, ready or not.” He said.

Karen executed, reluctantly. When she thought about it, a slave didn’t had access to a regular toilet. She cleaned her insides and Phil came back later to take it away. Then he came back to dress her up.

He first inserted two huge inflatable dildos, then after untying her legs, he gave her black rubber panties. The panties were tight and were pushing on her dildos. Then followed the legs of a red rubber catsuit with attached feet, gloves and hood. He got the suit as high as he could. He finished the bottom part with white platform lace-up knee high boots. After reinstalling the leather cuffs on her ankles and fastening to the wall, he unhooked her collar and her hands with the promise that she would behave.

Karen agreed. Anything to get untie. And she did behave, helping into putting the tight rubber catsuit on. He removed the gag after making sure she was not to talk then pulled the hood over her head and zipped it shut. He tightly locked a three inches wide leather collar around her neck and tied her arms in her back with locking leather straps at the elbows and wrists. He tied her arms so tight that her elbows were touching. He then took the pump of the built-in blow-up gag and pumped it until she nodded enough, then gave it two more squeezes. He did the same with the dildos, but with the last one, it was obvious that Karen had told that she had enough way before she should have to have it easy, so he gave it four more squeezes.

He linked her collar to the ceiling and untied her legs before putting a two feet spreading bar between them. He untied her from the ceiling and pulled on the leach.

“Come.”

Karen struggled to follow. It was relatively easy until she got to the stairs.

“Up.” He said taking the lead, pulling on the leash. 

Karen got the first step, then the second then stopped, pulling back on the leach. It was too difficult.

“It’s your call, slave. I give you five minutes. Each exceeding minute will translate in ten minutes punishment time.” Said Phil, yanking the leash.

Karen grunted through her gag and struggled to climb the stairs. Once she reached the first floor, Phil looked at his watch.

“Ten minutes, so it’s five minutes over, meaning 50 minutes of punishment added to your file. Noted.” He said writing something on his notepad.

“Now, you know where the kitchen is. I give you 15 minutes to make me a breakfast plate of a cup of coffee, two toasts with cheese and a peeled banana.”

Karen went wide-eyed. She turned around and showed her bound hands.

“That’s not my problem, slave. You wanted it hard, you got it. You have 15 minutes. Every minute late and you add 10 minutes of punishment time.” He said, then turned around and went to the living room to read his newspaper.

Breakfast. He already had one, thought Karen as she hobbled to the kitchen. The bread was on the counter so even with her tied arms, she was able to get two slices and put them in the toaster, ready to get pushed down. 

The coffee. The coffee maker was still on with some in the pot. Taking a clean cup was another challenge. She couldn’t reach the cabinet on top of the counter. She tried to climb on a chair but her spreader bar made it impossible. She resolved to rinse one of the cups in the sink and pour some coffee in it. Well, about half made it to the cup, the other on the counter. She couldn’t be blamed; she was working with her hands in her back.

She took a piece of cheese from the refrigerator and peeled a banana from the table fruit basket. She got the toasts ready. She put everything on the plate and carried it to the dining table. She looked at the time: 13 minutes. She did it. She waited, but Phil was still in the living room, reading his newspaper. She waited five minutes then tried to make some sound to attract Phil’s attention but the gag muffled everything. Finally, she opted to hobble up the living room. Phil reacted at her presence, looking at his watch.

“Oh, 25 minutes. Not bad, but 100 more minutes of punishment.”

Karen grunted. It had been ready in time. He’s the one that was not ready.

“I know what you think, but you should know that in any good house, once the meal is ready, the housemaid gets the message to the man of the house. I never received yours until now, so the counter stops now. That’s 25 minutes. But I’m not really hungry, I had a nice breakfast this morning. You can throw it away. Oh and don’t forget to leave the kitchen clean.” He said, picking up his newspaper again.

Karen knew better. She hobbled back to the kitchen to get everything clean. Phil was still reading his newspaper.

A short while later, a whisk of wind made the backdoor slam. Phil raised an eyebrow.

“slave? Where are you?”

He quickly got up to find that Karen was outside, two thirds on her way to the bell. She had left the backdoor opened and the wind slammed it shut, alerting Phil. He easily reached her before she got to the bell.

“Well slave, I guess that you need to study more… and me too for that matter.” He said, snapping a leach to her collar and pulling hard on it, forcing her to walk almost too fast for her restrained legs.

He dragged her back to the house. She reached it, panting, her feet hurting.

“I guess I have some shopping to do to keep my side of the game.” He said, referring to having to color his hair green.  “According to my record here, you have accumulated 150 minutes of punishment, plus the fact that I have to punish you for the actions themselves. Okay then, come!” he said, pulling on the leash and aiming for downstairs.

Karen pulled back. Climbing the stairs with the spreader bar was one thing. Getting down is a whole other matter. So Phil tied the leach on the handrail, went down and came back a few minutes later with a simple chain link. He removed the spreader bar and linked the two ankle cuffs, putting her feet close together.

“Now just get down on your butt.” He said, pulling the leash. “You should be able to do it in five minutes… counting.”

She did it, in 7 minutes, so 20 more minutes were added. He then dragged her to the torture chamber. Karen coped as best as she could with her feet tied together. Once in the room, he made her kneel on the floor. He then binds her legs together with straps at the ankle, below the knees and at mid thighs. He then forced her to sit on her heels and put two more straps, grabbing her legs and her thighs. Then he had her bend over, putting her in a ball-tie position and tied her with two more straps over her shoulders and elbows, enveloping her from below the legs and all around. He finally linked her collar to the knee strap and her wrists to her ankles cuffs.

She couldn’t move a muscle.

“I’m pretty sure you won’t go anywhere, but just to be sure.” He said, locking a chain to her collar and to the wall. “There. Well I’m going shopping. I should be back in, oh… three hours or so.”

Karen tried to call him, to ask him to release her, but he never turned back. She was left there, crushing, panting, her limbs quickly aching.

“Well, you asked for it.” She said to herself, trying to concentrate on her disturbing dildos. Soon, she was slowly contracting her butt muscles, producing small massaging waves, working the dildos. 

She would have never suspected it before, but she actually had a heck of an orgasm… when she finally reached it after almost two hours of stimulation.

On with it.

Phil had kept his side of the deal and had gone to work with his hair green, then had shaved it. Karen had tried to get to the bell a few more times, but never reached it. That gave Phil the definite clue that Karen was not about to let go, so he placed a few metal rings at strategic places around the house and equipped her with a long chain. She would be able to perform her chores in each section of the house, but she would never be able to leave it.

Karen was spending her days bound, and almost all her nights mummified in a body bag, tightly tied to a padded table.

Each evening though, there was the task or removing the suit, cleaning herself, letting her skin breath for a while before putting it all back on. Then one day, Phil came back from work, untied Karen from her chain and had her sit in the living room, removing her gag.

“What’s going on?” she asked, puzzled.

“I had news today from a company in Germany that had apparently made a breathable latex that could be worn non stop for years. You wouldn’t have to get out of your suit every day.” He said. “What do you think?”

“That would be great!” she said.

“They say that the suit is very wear and tear resistant and under heavy use could last at least five years, and after that time, only a re-conditioner is needed.”

“Sounds great! Order it.” She said.

“That’s the problem. It can only be sprayed on. Once on, you can’t remove it without destroying it, and according to Dieter, the man I talked to on the phone today, it’s very difficult as it is a very strong rubber.”

“Wow. And a trip to Germany included? When do we leave?”

“We could leave tomorrow but we have some options cleared up, and give them time to get everything ready.”

“Like…”

“Well, as I said, zippers can not be installed. You have the choice of wearing some kind of panties over the suit or being entubed. You have the choice to be fully entubed, meaning feeding, breathing and cleaning or partially, at your choice. You can have restraints affixed before the spray, which makes them permanent. You can have molded carbon fibers, collars, corsets and boots made or you can put on your own.”

Karen was quick to answer.

“I want the full package: embedded restraints, tight carbon fiber corset, pointed toe boots, posture collar, the whole gig.” She said like a kid that was asked what he wanted from the candy store.

“Very well then. I’ll phone them tomorrow morning before our flight. And we’ll have one week to visit around then you will come back as a permanent slave.”

“How come come back?” I want to go as your slave.” She said.

She knew that it was no problem, since they were going to fly a charter jet prepared just for them.

The limousine parked alongside the Learjet and two people were seen getting on board. A man and a woman, that one appearing tightly bound and climbing the stairs with difficulty. Once on board, she was heavily strapped to her seat with straps everywhere. She couldn’t move and it lasted the whole trip over the Atlantic.

Once in Germany, another limousine came to the plane and the two persons got in, but the woman was placed into the trunk of the car, apparently tightly bound into a hogtie position. They were driven to a high tech polymer research lab. They were greeted by a woman wearing the standard business uniform, but of which her skin appeared strange, almost too shiny. Looked like plastic.

“Hello Phil. Pleased to meet you. My name is Kerstin.” She said, offering her hand. Phil shook it, and startled.

“You’re coated in rubber?”

“Of course. That’s the best way to promote our products. I assume that this is Karen.” She said, pointing at the bound woman that the driver was struggling to get out of the trunk of the car.

“Yes she is. She requested to travel like this. I would guess that she’s eager to get out of that steamy rubber suit after that trip.” He said.

Kerstin showed him the way. Karen was totting along on her leach, hobbling with her short ankle chain, mmffing evidently for Phil to slow down but he didn’t change his pace.

Finally, they reached what looked like an exam room complete with medical equipment.

“This is our prep room.” Said Kerstin. “It is here that we insert any tubing requested by the customer. Then it’s to our accessories room just next door where we install the options like corsets and cuffs, and finally to the spray chamber where everything gets together. Now, can you please undress her so we could take the proper measurements?” she politely asked.

Karen was stripped down to her skin suit and Kerstin proceeded with a medical exam followed by a lot of measuring tape work. 

After taking measurements from head to toe, she even put a balloon inside her mouth and inflated it until Karen said stop. She then took a reading on the amount of air that was pumped in. She even made molds of her ear cavity.

“Well Karen, I was told that you’re a voluntary slave, am I right?” asked Kerstin.

“Yes I am.” She said, looking at Phil with loving eyes.

“Very well. Then I would assume that you will be choosing the options?”

“Yes she will.” Quickly answered Phil. “Anything she choose, I’m fine with it.”

“Thank you dear. Yes I will choose. I want to be fully entubed. I want cuffs at the wrists and over the elbows, and also at ankles and over the knees. I want pointed toe boots, without heels, and I want the tightest corset possible, that is going from the hips up to my shoulders.  I also want a very wide collar.”

“Wow. That’s quite a severe setup. We can do all this. As I punch the numbers on the computer why don’t you browse your catalog for a look at all the other more high tech options?”

“There’s more?” they both answered with one voice as they took the pamphlet from Kerstin.

They browsed the pages, pointing at different items.

“What do you think?” she asked Phil.

“You’re the one that will be spending 24 hours a day in this. It’s your call.”

Kerstin was back half an hour later and was amazed at Karen’s choices. 

“That’s pretty much the most severe setup we’ve done so far. Sure you want to go with it?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” Answered Karen, all smiling.

“Very well then. Everything will be ready two weeks from now. We’d like half the price now if you don’t mind.” Said Kerstin.

Phil got out his checkbook and wrote one with a hefty sum. Then they were on to visit the country.

The Full Package

Karen was shivering. Not because she was cold on the exam table, but because of the excitement. Her faith was getting sealed. She was fitted with the desired tubing for her cleaning, breathing and feeding. The hoses were protruding out of her nose, mouth and lower orifices.

She was then led to the spray chamber where a first coat of the rubber polymer was applied. It felt strange to feel the warm liquid on her now bald hair. After it was dried with UV lamps, she was led to the accessories room where all the carbon fiber cuffs were applied except at the ankles. There was no ring attached to it, only some kind of protuberance where the ring should go. Next was the corset. To her surprise, it came with a six inches waist reduction!

“I’m never going to fit into this.” She said as it was put over her waist.

“According to the computer, you can. You just have to give your organs a few hours to adapt to their new position.” Said Kerstin.

With straps, the carbon fiber corset was closed until the gap was about three inches. Already, Karen was breathing in short gasps. While her organs were looking for a new home, the pointed toe boots were applied on her lower legs. They were reaching to just below her knees. They were closed using ratchet straps until both halves clicked together,

“Herr… I don’t want to complain but the feet feel rather loose although it’s quite tight on the calves.”

“That’s the way they should be.” Said Kerstin as a technician approached with a huge syringe and plugged it to the toe of the boot and started to pump something in it.

“That’s high density neoprene. It will envelope your feet and provide a nice cushion.”

The ankle cuffs were not put on as the boot already had ring attachment on its sides.

By the time the boots were done, she was feeling comfortable on her corset, much to her surprise. But that was not to be for long as it was forced shut.

Next came the wide collar, also of carbon fibers. It was put tightly around her neck. So tight that Karen finds it hard to swallow, but that’s how she requested it.

The next items were the high tech gadgets. First, earplugs that contained a miniature speaker, and spherical lenses that could be blacked out at will. Of course, Phil would have the control. The battery of the system was embedded in Karen’s collar and would work for eight years, way longer than the expected first life of the suit.

Then it was back to the spray chamber where three coats of the breathable rubber were applied, topped by a permanent ultra shiny coat.

Kerstin, for obvious customer relationship reasons, had chosen a transparent rubber. Karen opted for the black one, although any color could be ordered.

Karen stepped out of the spray booth, unsteady on her new footwear. Wearing ballet toe boots only on occasion, standing on pointed toe ones was very new as well as the incredibly tight corset and posture collar.

The suit, as it dried, became even tighter than she could imagine, and also became somewhat stiffer. Kerstin had opted for the one coat process. In all, Karen had four coats!

Technicians approached her and punched holes where the rings should be attached to the cuffs and fixed them. She was now a totally black female form with bright chromed rings dangling from her ankles, knees, waist, shoulder, neck, upper arms and wrists.

Finally, Kerstin gave them the last instructions.

“The suit will obtain its maximum strength in about 24 hours. In the meantime, be very gentle with it as it is rather fragile. When it will be all cured, driving the blade of a scalpel would be hard work. As for the hairs, they will slowly grow back and find their way through the porous rubber and grow naturally. A supply of food is already being loaded into your plane.”

“Thank you very much.” Said Phil. Karen shook her hand and nodded. Her face was completely featureless except for two spherical lenses. Her mouth was pumped full by a rubber filled blow-up gag.

The trip back home was uneventful. Karen was kept free so not to damage the suit. But the next day, her new life as a rubbermaid started.

New life… again?

Karen was awake, but couldn’t see anything as her lenses were still blacked out. Her hearing was also cut. All she could hear, or rather feel, was her breathing through the tubes running through her nose. She was now in her sixth month as a complete rubber slave. She was sitting in her rubber padded cell. It was more a cage than a cell as she couldn’t get up nor stretched herself out completely. Phil had made it to simplify the task of putting her to bed. Tying her each night and untying her every morning had become a chore. Now, when she’s ordered to go to sleep, she go downstairs, get into the torture chamber and crawl into her rubber padded cell. The door automatically locks and her sight and hearing are cut off.

It has been close to a year now. One year of total rubber slavery and complete bondage. Phil always kept her lenses partly darkened and was talking to her only when really necessary. So basically, she had been totally isolated, not feeling hot or cold, not tasting or smelling anything, barely hearing and seeing a darkened almost black and white world.

And she loved it. She loved the constant massage of the two massive dildos that were deeply inserted and inflated with rubber paste. She loved the feeling of her full mouth, filled with expanding foam rubber. She loved the struggle to grab things with her fingers all glued together into fingerless mittens. She loved the constriction of the corset. She loved the balancing on her pointed toes.

Laying down in her cell, she was slowly moving her hips to massage the dildos inside her, arousing her.

She heard a beeping noise, signaling that it was time for her to wake up. She knew that her sight had been restored, but it was so dark in her cell that it made no difference. She found the door and pushed it open. She walked upstairs where Phil was waiting with the restraints of the day. He linked her elbows in her back and her wrists to the rings on the side of her corset. He linked her knees with a two inches chain and her ankles with a six inches one.

“Nothing special today, slave. I’ll be working late. Don’t wait for me and don’t prepare any dinner.” Said Phil before cutting her hearing. He kissed her on her rubber forehead, now filled with a blooming hairdo and went.

Karen turned around. She could sweep a little, but she couldn’t do much. She walked to the back of the living room. She saw, in the backyard, the famous bell. She knew that, even as she was not restrained in the house, she would never reach it. Phil had added one item to the list of options without telling Karen: electrodes around the dildos. She could go outside, but if she was getting more than 10 meters off the house, she was getting zapped. And it was hurting like hell.

She walked around the house. Each step was working the dildos. Her breath was short by the extremely tight corset. As usual, Phil had left stuff laying on the living room table as well as dishes on the dinner table. Her duty as a rubber maid was to clean everything. But the challenge was to discover where Phil wanted everything stored. He was constantly changing the rules or his directives, but without telling her. He would get back from work, find things that are not at the right place, per her new directives, and punish Karen for it, even though she didn’t know about it.

That made the whole thing more fun. He had to write the directives and leave them on the locked drawer of his desk. Then upon his return, he would retrieve the paper and show it to Karen who would then know what she had done wrong.

Of course, Karen was also misplacing things on her own will, hoping for a more difficult punishment, or was it a more agreeable one.

The toughest she’s been? One full week into a complete body cast. Entubed as she was, her life support was not difficult, and she could have stayed there for much longer. But one week of complete immobility was way enough for her, although she got quite stimulated by the vibrators implanted in her dildos.

She also spent a few days in a vacuum bed. That too was quite an experience she would never forget.

But on this day, she knew that, with Phil working late, she would not get punished or that she would not get any challenge. When Phil was working late, he never gave her any specific tasks.

So she went on with the usual routine of sweeping and cleaning. Of course, with her arms bound as they were, it was not easy, but after one year of working with her arms restrained in some manner, she got the hang of it.

As she was trained to do so, she stayed up until Phil arrived home, greeting him at the door, kneeling like any good slave would do. He kissed her on the forehead and ordered her to go to sleep. She crawled to her cell and everything became black.

For the next months, Phil worked more and more late at night, and appeared to take less pleasure at punishing her, putting her in strict bondage for longer periods instead of the many short sessions/positions he used to.

Then, one day he had her sit and he talked to her.

“Well, slave, I’m sure this is your dream life. Am I right?”

“Karen nodded yes.”

“It was mine too, but now that it is done, I have to say that it’s pretty boring in the long run. I mean we don’t have any sexual relationships anymore. We can’t since you’re plugged all over. I can’t even taste your saliva when we kiss. I love you, but I want more, and I found it.” He said, getting up and opening the door.

“Slave, this is Lynda.” He said, making a woman get into the house. She was tall, perched on five inches heel pumps, wearing lo-rise extremely tight jeans and a T shirt that was so tight that Karen wondered how she was able to put it on in the first place.

“Oh, wow! That’s her?” she said, approaching Karen and touching her rubber coated arm.

“Yes Lynda. That’s the rubber slave I was talking to you about.”

“And she will… obey me?”

“She is a slave. She will obey all the masters of the house.”

“Kneel!” ordered Lynda

Karen looked at Phil who turned around. She hesitated.

“I said kneel, slave!” ordered Lynda once again.

“That’s 5 points, slave.” Said Phil.

Karen executed and kneeled. Lynda laughed. Karen had never been so humiliated, but for some reason, it almost turned her on. Maybe that’s what was missing. Phil wasn’t true when he was insulting her. She is.

She spent the rest of the evening serving them drinks and standing behind them as they were passionately kissing while somewhat watching a rented movie. Lynda made her trip and spilled some wine, which of course, ended up with more punishment points. But Karen was jealous of Lynda. Phil was hers and she had no business in this relationship.

She got her cold shower a few months later when wrapped in plaster cast, she was cleverly transformed into a statue and put in the middle of the garden for Phil and Lynda’s… wedding!

None of the guests suspected that a living person was standing there, right in the middle of the crowd. Phil had simply said that Karen had left him and that he was now getting married with Lynda.

She was nothing else than the rubber slave of the house. But deep down, isn’t what she really wanted?

© Pete / monsterp63, July 13 2006

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4 thoughts on “Karen – Boring Life

  1. I have long had a love/hate relationship with this story. On one hand it hits all my kinks in just the right place, but on the other hand the betrayal at the end is just damned heartbreaking. I mean there were so many conceivable ways for Phil to get his emotional satisfaction without essentially betraying Karen in the worst sort of way. I know it is a kink story and in every other respect than the ending. I am not writing this to be a put down, but since I like the story enough for the ending to bother me, and it was me finding this that made me interested in the rest of your catalogue. I don’t know what exactly the point of this was other than to say that I love your writing.

    1. Thanks for commenting. And I like those kind of comments because you “explain” the reasons, rather than just say “I don’t like it” or voting a “1 heart”.
      There’s at least one person who votes “3” on ALL my stories. I have no way to know who it is or if it is the same one every time. I’d like to know why the story is worth a “3”. Alas…
      I might agree or not with the comment, but at least, the reason is explained, compared to the above mentioned rating.

      And… wanna know a secret?
      I have a love/hate relationship with this story too!
      And for the same reasons.

      Sometimes, while writing, I dig myself (or is it Karen?) into a hole and I see no way to get out.
      I know: “The first thing one must do when he realizes he’s digging himself into a hole is to let go of the shovel”.
      You would be amazed the number of unfinished stories I have where I’m in a dead-end (or is it at the bottom of a hole?) where I let go of the shovel.
      Sometimes, I try to dig myself (or again, is it Karen?) out of it.
      Sometimes, the result is good.
      Sometimes, the result is meh…

      This is a meh.
      In short, I totally agree with your comment.
      😉
      Pierre

      1. I feel the same way about the story but instead of ending it here, could Karen turn the tables and have Lynda rubberized while Phil is away and have him come home to two identical rubber slaves?

        1. Thanks for writing.
          Well, first, Phil “let go” of Karen because he couldn’t, erm… access her…, and he went to Lynda, who enjoys being a Master.
          Lynda knows why Phil went to her.
          And she’s rather Dominant.
          If she gets encased in rubber, which would transform her into a sub in the first place, which she is not, Phil will have the same problem with Lynda, and put her aside to find someone else to play with.
          And we’re back to square one.

          Finally, I do not intend to re-open that story.

          Regards,
          Pierre.

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