– I –
She had been chosen because she was fit, wasn’t scared of the unknown and like risky adventures. That’s why she was now about to embark into a very unusual voyage to the confine of the galaxy. Ten years of high speed travel like no one had ever done before.
For this, Karen had followed special training and was now being specially prepared for the voyage as for the next 10 years, she would be kept into a semi-coma state, her body well protected by a state of the art suit and enclosure.
First, she had to be intubated so that feeding, breathing and bodily functions could be done automatically. Tubes were running up her nose for breathing. That would ensure that her nasal passages would not clog. A large feeding tube was going through her mouth down to her stomach. A nourishing broth would be pushed in when needed, automatically controlled by her life support computer. To prevent her tongue from interfering or being chewed on, her mouth was filled, around the breathing tube, by a rubber bag which got inflated with rubber paste. Her ears had been filled to the eardrum by a rubbery paste. This would make sure that no change in pressure felt on the outside could damage them.
All her hairs were removed and she was sprayed by a new hi-tech rubbery compound, completely sealing her body. Dark tinted lenses were protecting her eyes, in case some kind of unknown radiation were to seep through. Four coats of the special rubber were put on, making a very thick protective garment. The special rubber had the property of shrinking by as much as 10% when it cured. Unfortunately they had found no way to get rid of that… side effect, so, her breath short, Karen felt her stomach being crushed, along with her arms and legs as well as her head. But since the pressure was equal everywhere, it turned out to be quite comfortable.
Between the second and the third coat of rubber, her feet were encased in long tubes, starting at the tip of the toes and stopping just under the knee. They were made of special composite fibers that were supple at first but when heat was applied, the tube shrunk around her leg and became as rigid as steel. Her feet were kept in this en pointe position following results of long term immobility research. This was the best position. In addition, her torso was encased into another composite fiber tube, which was shrunk very tightly, a lot like a corset, compressing her body from the hips to just below the breasts. This was to ensure the minimum consumption of oxygen during the trip: it would prevent her breathing to become too large. Finally, another tube was applied around her neck and shrunk to fit. It was there to ensure that there would be no neck injury in case of a rough landing because let’s face it, she was heading for the unknown.
Then the third coat of rubber was applied. It was by default deep black and as shiny as a mirror. It was pretty much indestructible. Even the sharpest razor blade didn’t make a dent on it. It had the drawback of not being very flexible but it was not very important since she would not be moving a lot in it, in fact, she would be pretty much held immobile in her capsule.
That was the time where Karen had to really concentrate to control herself. She had been literally brainwashed with the mission objectives and schedules, but no brainwash could remove the deepest and strongest of feelings: pleasure. And this tight suit, the total sensory deprivation, the corset like squeezing, the inflated mouth, the tubes going up her crotch , the pointed toe boots were all sending her strong signals to any fetishist. Each step was a stimulation, squishing her breasts, rubbing her crotch. With each breath, the challenge turned her on. She chewed hard on her breathing tube, feeling the gag, closing her eyes to concentrate… Not now.
The capsule itself was more or less a huge bullet. Karen’s life support equipment was in her backpack. Everything was plugged there, ensuring total autonomy. She wasn’t plugged in any way to the ship. She was then lowered into the center compartment of the capsule. The lid was closed and the inside was filled with special expanding foam. Once everything cured, Karen couldn’t move a fingernail and was well protected. But she had some time between the time the capsule was closed and the time the foam was injected, to move, and she quickly put her hands in strategic places, one at her crotch, the other at her breasts. She was glad that there was no telemetry equipment to record her heartbeat and blood pressure, because as the foam began to fill the tube, Karen started to play with her crotch tubes and squeezed her breasts, building a powerful orgasm that exploded at about the same time the foam rendered her totally immobile.
The capsule was put into the launcher, the biggest rocket ever built. It would propel the capsule at a speed close to the speed of light. An autopilot would ensure that its trajectory is followed.
Karen was still alive, thinking about what would happen. Just prior to being launched off the Earth, her life support system will let out a special gas which will put her to sleep. She will be sleeping for the next 10 years, always monitored by her life support computer. During this time she will be kept totally immobile. In 10 years, when she will reach the distant planet, her life support computer will let out another gas, annihilating the effect of the sleeping gas. The autopilot will then release a solvent that will dissolve the foam and free Karen from her cocoon. She will be able to easily rip the suit off her back and get on the clothes she had been provided for the mission, a dull cotton catsuit, after the autopilot would have released the latches of her capsule.
She hadn’t been equipped with any communication equipment. Sealed as she was, she could barely hear and could not speak, so why bother. Even more, with the ship going almost as fast as light, communication was impossible and once at her destination, each one way transmission would take 8 years.
She felt her capsule being moved around and after some time without moving, she was pretty sure to be inside the rocket, in the upright position. She waited there for a long time, her only thoughts sometimes being directed to the mission but most of the time, directed to the feeling her fingers were able to produce. She was sad to know that in a few hours, she would be sleeping for the next 10 years.
She felt cold and knew that the sleeping gas was being injected and she slept into a dreamless artificial sleep.
In the ground control, things were going smoothly and the countdown was continuing as planned. All systems were A-OK. Five… Four… Three… Engine Starts… One… Liftoff!
That was it. The first deep space exploration mission was under way. The flare of the rocket engine was blinding everyone nearby. It got up the sky faster and faster, easily reaching the sound barrier once, two, three, four times! The booster rockets having depleted their fuel were jettisoned one after the other in a well orchestrated choreography.
And then there was a flare, an unpredicted flare.
“What is that?” Asked the mission controller.
“Not sure, boss.” Said one of the engineers. “Looks like one of the booster rockets had a malfunction. It blew while still on the rocket instead of detaching.”
“Status?” Asked the controller.
“Everything is going fine, Phil. Still on trajectory and head… oh shit!” he said as everybody watched at the same time, a huge ball of light as one of the fuel reservoirs exploded.
“What the hell!!! Track it! Track the debris! Do you see the capsule?”
“Sir, the rocket is about to leave gravity. It is well possible that the capsule will continue on this trajectory and not fall down to earth.”
“And there’s no radio beacon on this sucker. I told them to be prepared for such an event, but did they listen to me? Noooooo. Damn I hate it when I’m right. Save all the radar and tracking satellites files!” yelled a pissed off and very concerned Phil.
“Yes boss.” Said the operator as people were growing more and more nervous. Someone would want answers.
High up in the sky, a huge bullet shaped chrome cylinder was flying up, quickly slowing down. The rocket wasn’t out of the atmosphere, just almost out. The bullet circled the earth three times before slowly starting to re-enter the atmosphere. But the rocket exploding had sent so much debris in orbit that the satellites and even ground based radars couldn’t figure out what was debris, what was the capsule and what was a simple airplane.
Well protected in her cocoon, sound asleep and totally unaware of what was going on, Karen was hurtling toward the earth at an incredible speed. As she reached an altitude of about 5km, the tip of the bullet opened up, deploying a large parachute, slowing its descent.
Down, below her, a very deep forest in the middle of huge mountains. The bullet broke a few of the tree tips before his chute caught up on the trees, stopping it. The chute tore off, slowing down the capsule which landed with a soft thud.
The autopilot computer sensed the atmosphere and gravity, assumed it had reached the target and opened the hatch, releasing the foam dissolving solvent. But the solvent was not activated. There was a safety mechanism for that solvent, to make sure that her suit will protect her as long as it can: it wouldn’t become active within the first 8 years.
At the same time, the awakening gas was released on Karen’s breathing system and she quickly came back to her senses, blinded by the harsh sun, her suit still covered with melting foam spuds.
She stretched, feeling weird. She had figured out to be in a lot worse shape than this after 10 years of immobility but she felt as if she had been encased just the day before. She was happy about it. So much the better.
She tried to get a deep breath but couldn’t. Strange, she thought. By now, the whole suit should have almost melted away.
She tried to rip it off but she couldn’t. It was still very much resistant and very much glued to her skin. She tried to get up but it wasn’t easy, her torso rigid, her neck rigid making her unable to even turn her head, and her feet encased in those pointed tubes. She couldn’t help herself to have another go at it as she reached for her crotch and pumped it at will, quickly building another orgasm. God! It was good! After 10 years of abstinence, it was a nice relief.
She carefully walked around, her pointed feet sinking in the soft grass. She was turned on by the struggle induced by her rigid suit. Her breath was shaking and she hoped that there was enough air in her life support system to sustain her until she can find a way to get rid of it. She startled at how much the vegetation was looking like Earth’s. She looked up searching for the two suns, but could see only one. Perhaps the other sun was on the opposite side of the planet.
She had no way to check on her life support status, about the amount of food and water left. She thought that the product that was supposed to soften her suit didn’t work properly or needed more time. Anyway, she had no choice.
She opened the back compartment of her capsule to reveal some survival gear: a tent with different accessories.
It was not easy to assemble. She felt quite impaired with her vision darkened, completely deaf and especially with the rigid boots, corset and collar she had. But the challenge was a blast that she liked. Once the tent was assembled, she took place in it, resting on her back on the small mattress. She closed her eyes and tried to relax her breath, but soon, her fingers found the tubes at her crotch again and had started to play with them. She closed her eyes and let another orgasm engulf her.
– II –
In her dead silence, she fell asleep. After all, she had a couple orgasms in just a few hours, enough to tire anybody. When she awoke, the sun was about to set. Something was wrong. She should be able to see the second sun. Perhaps the thick vegetation over her prevented it. She tried to find a clearer point of view. She spotted a clear patch on her right, about 100m away and decided to head for it.
When she reached it, she startled. She was on the edge of a steep cliff, going down about 200m. She could see as far as the eye can see. There was nothing but trees, rivers and mountains, a sun and a moon… a very familiar moon.
What the fuck? I’m still on Earth? Where am I? What happened? She asked herself.
Suddenly, things were different. She was not exploring a new world anymore; she was lost on her own planet. She had no means of communication. The capsule had no radio beacon, no emergency radio, nothing that could help her call for help. And to help it, she was mute, deaf and almost blind. She had to find help, but where? How?
She figured that following the river, she would without a doubt, find a civilization. So she set her goal to find a way to go down to this river, 200m below.
The search was hard. Walking on soft grass, dead trees and branches impaired as she was, was not easy. She was sweating like a pig under her rubber confinement, making it slippery. She could feel it glide on her skin, massaging it. She could feel the tubes move along with each step, with each struggle to go over a tree or a rock formation. She often had fetish dreams, but this was beyond dream.
She was not afraid to die or get hurt. She had enough food, air and water for 10 years of sleeping. It should sum up for maybe 2 years of being awake. The suit was protecting her from sharp rocks and branches, and even better, was providing her with very welcomed sensations.
She found a trail and proceeded to walk it down. She didn’t hear two strange men following her, speaking in a strange language, even when one yelled at her. She only saw something fall in front of her eyes and she was suddenly falling forward, stuck in some kind of net. She tried to get free, thinking that some tree had fallen on her but she only saw many men, holding her and quickly tying her up with strong ropes. She didn’t resist. She simply couldn’t.
Even more, this tribe or whatever it was, must surely be in contact with someone of the modern world. That was perhaps her best chance of getting back to the space center.
She was more or less dragged to a nearby village where she was securely tied up to a large X frame made of trees, standing slightly slanted backward on legs fixed to something that looked like a stage. Under Karen was only dirt while the three decks were making a circle around a large fireplace.
Karen had been secured with tight ropes at the wrists, elbows, neck, chest, waist, thighs, knees and ankles. One thing was sure, they knew how to tie someone properly. Although she was stretched, her crotch was resting on some piece of wood which carried a lot of her weight, pushing the tubes inward. Karen squirmed slightly and moaned. Now, being bound was closing the circle. She was in heaven. In Fetish Heaven.
The village gathered around the main fireplace. By then, the sun had set and the night was only lit by a crescent moon. The tribe began to play their music, unheard by Karen, and then danced on the wooden deck. This Karen felt, being linked to that deck. The vibrations were directly transmitted to her crotch pole, wrecking havoc. She squirmed in her bonds, trying to get the most of it. Geesh! It was so good!
The tribe interpreted her squirming as the demon trying to flee her body and they danced even harder, sending Karen to the tip of the highest mountain, time after time until she pretty much collapse of exhaustion.
But her ordeal was not over. The tribe took the logs in fire from the main fireplace, and put them on the dirt, below her.
After being fucked to hell, she was now set on fire.
She could feel the heat building up. She thought this would make the rubber melt and free her of the suit but to her dismay, or to her satisfaction, her thoughts were not clear at this time, the suit held. But to Karen, this was just too much and she passed out.
The next morning, she awoke, laying on a straw bed, unrestrained, in a large hut, the priest of the tribe by her side. She gently sat on the edge of the bed. The priest kneel before her. Karen made a sign asking him to raise his head. She then extended her arms and invited him to take her hands. She gently squeeze them in her rubbery hands, making a small nod, trying to convey that she was a friend and that she meant no harm and that she was not holding any grudge about what they did the night before.
The priest smiled as he got out, never turning his back on her, bowing repetitively.
– III –
Rescue At Last
As the sun rose, the priest of the tribe came to the rack where Karen was tightly secured and untied her. With a soft muffled moan, Karen stepped down and thanked the priest with a soft pat on the shoulder. Under her sealed face, she was smiling.
No, she was not kept as a prisoner. In fact, she was able to convince the tribe to tie her back on the rack every night so she could fight the bad spirits within her as they were powered by the moon, which would explain her squirming while she was tied up. Little did they know the real reason: she had a blast! Being tied up, spread eagle like that, all sealed and entubed was just too much. She would orgasm until exhaustion. Every night!
On every full moon, the tribe would dance around her, sending vibrations. Karen would squirm like hell, experiencing the best sensations of the world. For the tribe, she was fighting with all her will the bad spirits.
Her only night off? The new moon.
Karen felt dizzy, and standing on the sandy soil on her pointed boots was not helping either. Slowly, she walked back toward her hut. Yes, she had her own hut in the village. In fact, she was considered as a protector as she deterred quite a few attacks. Her apparent immunity to weapons was scary enough for rival tribes.
As she was slowly walking, feeling her buns being squeezed with each step, forcing her hips to twist to get the leg forward, she went past a young girl, drawing. Karen recognized herself in her drawing, a tall, sleek, black figurine, with a backpack and red lights on it. Red lights? That thing had lights? She startled.
With time, she had developed a basic sign language with the tribe. She gestured to the young girl to draw exactly what could be seen on her back pack. Puzzled, the young girl agreed. Karen then took the drawing, thanked her, and headed for her hut, depressing.
She didn’t think that her backpack had any external indicators. After all, it was self contained. This gave her a new perspective. She looked at the drawing. She had figured that it could sustain her for about two years. Seven months had passed so far:
It’s the last one that gave her the most concern. She had only 10% of her oxygen left. Well, surely that her nightly sessions of orgasms were not helping the usage of air. With this known, in less than a month, she would run out of air… and die.
She put the paper back on her small bed made of branches and got up. She needed a walk.
She headed out of the village, in one of the numerous trails she learned to know. Suddenly, the pressure of the corset, the rigidity of the collar, the awkward boots were not appealing anymore. She was looking around for something to tear off the suit, to get rid of it. Her life was at stake now. For having tried, she knew that even the sharpest of rock was not enough. She would have to find something much sharper, much harder. She tried to forget that the only way that had been found to get the rubber off without the solvent, was to use a laser so powerful that it would go through her limb a split second after going through the rubber coating.
While thinking about all this, she ended up in a trail she never took before, without realizing it. She continued to walk on it, wherever it was leading. Suddenly, she felt like she was going down. She tried to walk away but she only got lower. It was easy to realize that she was rapidly sinking into a quick sand hole, and her sleek suit was not helping break her sinking.
She tried to lay on her stomach, to float on the soft sand but it didn’t help. Quickly, she was going down. She was feeling the cold mud going up her legs. The feeling was weird. She felt softly compressed, gradually as she sank into the liquid sand. It was soon grabbing her waist, and even under her rigid corset, she felt some pressure. She tried to swim, but could barely move her legs. But it had unexpected results, very welcomed results. As she was down to her neck, her body was shaken as she felt an orgasm she never felt before. Then she relaxed and as her eyes were going under the soil level, she had a thought.
Well, I still have about a month to live. I’ll have time to explore what really lies at the bottom of the quicksand hole she thought, sarcastically.
In a last despair, she stretched her hand and she raised it over her head. She felt something touch it, something rather hard, then tightening around it… and pulling on it, just enough to stop her sinking! Someone had thrown a rope at her.
She struggled to get her other hand out of the sand, feeling the thick mud glide along, and grabbed the rope as she felt being pulled out, the wet sand easily gliding off her suit but leaving a rather sexy looking muddy coat. She was facing the ground, too stiff to raise her head. She had no clue who had pulled the rope. Once she was out of the mud, someone went to her and gently rolled her on her back.
“Hi Karen. Long time, hey?” she saw the lips of the man say, a man she recognized as Phil, the mission controller.
She was rescued at last, but she was not about to run off without saying a last goodbye to those who welcomed her. To Phil and his party of rescuer dismay, she headed back to the village. She met with the leader of the tribe and exchanged a lot of signs, thanking him.
The whole village gathered around her for a last farewell, after which Karen walked to a puzzled Phil.
“What was that all about?” she saw his lips say.
She answered by raising her thumb.
* * *
Four days later.
“How are you doing this morning?” asked Phil as he entered the small hospital room.
“I feel great.” Answered Karen from a faint voice, side effects from her many months with a tube running down her throat. “So, what’s the results?” she asked.
“Medically, you’re as fit as when you left. The suit really protected you and this part was a success.”
“Yeah, but the launch wasn’t.” she said, unconsciously rubbing her waist, missing the tight feeling of the corset-like suit.
“In a certain way, it was.”
“Come on! I never left Earth’s gravity! Don’t call that a success, even partially.”
“Oddly enough, the failed launch actually saved your life. The engineers looked at the data your survival computer had collected and they figure that, the launch having been a success, you would have run out of air in about 7 to 9 years, so short of your arrival.”
“And they told me that they had enough to spare, that it would last 12 years, 2 years longer than the 10 years planned? Heck of engineers if you want my opinion.” Said a pissed off Karen. “So, I guess the mission is off now.”
“Actually, no. The incident and the efforts to find you back attracted the attention of the whole world, who got outraged at the low security, no backup plan, failed mission triggered by all the budget cuts. They all said that if the Earth was to send someone for an interplanetary mission, they should do it the right way. Making contact with another life form is not something that should be done lightly. We should send ambassadors, not guinea pigs.”
“That we’re making plans for another mission. We have pretty much open budgets, and we really need your input, as what is the best thing to do.”
Karen smiled. Yes she had a plan.
– IV –
The New Mission
“You’re really sure about this?” asked Phil to Karen.
“Yes” she nodded as much as her stiff neck allowed.
She was back in her sealed rubber suit but she was not heading for the small box this time but rather to a much spacious spacecraft. She entered the ship, complete with piloting posts, living quarters and a dining room. She took place in the Commander seat. Lynda, the Pilot was already there, clad in the same rubber outfit, ready to go.
Yes, it was now a crew of two. Karen had chosen Lynda personally. She was a great scientist and they went along quite well and it would be perfect for the mission. After all, they would be with each other for the next 10 years as no one would go into any kind of deep sleep.
As she sat in the Commander seat, two tubes automatically plugged into her suit with a sharp click: one at the crotch, the other at the back of her neck. The first one to provide cleaning through enemas, the other one for air and water. When they were unplugged, a small pack embedded in the back of the suit was providing air for about half an hour. It was recharged automatically every time she would connect to a seat, because all the seats of the ship bore the same tubes. If she had to stay out of any seat for longer periods, she would plug to a flexible hose, allowing some mobility inside the ship or snap a complete backpack, giving her three days of autonomy. Those were mainly reserved for the exploration of the new planet.
Why the suit? Karen sold them the idea that, unwillingly, they could bring diseases to the new planet they were heading for, or contact new diseases from them. Being sealed would protect everybody.
The stiff torso, collar and pointed boots? Studies showed that it was the best way to preserve the body for prolonged weightlessness. Well, according to Karen’s own research results, conducted with the help of Lynda.
With the sign language, she gestured to Lynda that she was ready. They both took their seat. Automatically, straps were going around them: ankles, below the knees, thighs, a five-point harness ending at the waist but spreading to the crotch, waist and shoulders, upper arm and wrists. They were very well secured. It was too much to Phil’s idea but that’s what Karen and Lynda asked for.
Little did he know that Karen had played with the programming settings, increasing the tightness of the straps by 10%.
She felt them tightly encircle her limbs with delight, working hard to hide the fire that was starting to burn inside of her, slowing down her breathing.
“We’re ready. Countdown resumed.” She heard in the small earphones embedded in the lump of rubber filling her ear down to the eardrum.
Two hours later, the rocket was fired, the ship was being rocked and vibrated. Karen and Lynda’s heartbeat were running high, but not for the reason everybody on the ground was thinking. They were having the time of their life. And it was only the beginning.
Following was at least 25 years of total rubber enclosure. Ten years to go, five years to explore and 10 more years to come back. And for the 20 years of voyage, there’s only one way to hold someone in bed: restraints. And you can be sure that the beds were nicely furnished, as well as the ship which had been provided with ample… anchor points.
And imagine spending 5 years exploring a new world, concealed in rubber, having to walk on sand, rocks and perhaps pavement, standing on pointed toe boots. Five years of struggling against pointed toe boots, a rigid corset and a high posture collar, encased in rubber.
Twenty-five years of total orgasmic adventures.
© Pete / monsterp63, September 14, 2007
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