Karen – Summer Job

4.8
(12)

The Resort

University tuition is already expensive. And if you’ve come from a family with a low income, it seems even worse.

Karen’s family was living a good life, in a small village, away from the buzzing of the city. She had nothing about those who choose to live this slow and peaceful life, nothing against farmers and cattle ranchers. It’s just that she was aiming for a more dynamic life. She wanted to be in the action. She wanted to be a doctor. Ideally, a surgeon, and have a practice in the big city, where she would see a lot of different people, not in a small village where she would know everybody by their first name after the first month.

But again, becoming a doctor is expensive. She had to find a job. A well paid job. Once more, she headed for the City, in the hope to find THE high paying summer job.

And she struck a wall. The high pay job she was hoping for was non-existent for students, even medical students, and those that were available, were quickly filled by acquaintances of someone.

She had the choice of cleaning the streets, working as a waitress or… work in a tourist resort. Hum, this could be interesting, and there might be some high paid tips for this job.

The ad said that those interested had to be by the pier 9 at 07:00, on Friday morning. That was to be the next day.

The very next morning, she was there, along with about a dozen other men and women. She smiled, figuring that many of those girls had no ideas where they were going. While she was wearing the real summer resort attire, meaning shorts, sandals and T-shirt, many of the girls were wearing extremely tight jeans or leather pants, and were standing on spiky high heels. There were even a few very strongly built guys, in tight jeans. Very interesting to look at, but she felt they were out of place.

This group seemed to be all sticking together, as if they knew each other. Karen stayed away, with the other group, the ones she felt the more properly dressed for the job.

They were instructed to board the ferry. That’s when she learned that the resort in question was located on a private island, off the coast.

The trip took a good hour. It was her first time this much out on the sea, and she was overwhelmed by the sights and the smell of seawater.

The island looked tropical, with large palm trees, white sandy beaches, and beautiful small huts. There was no big hotel, at least, none that could be seen. Then again, there was not a lot to see other than the tropical trees and the high volcanic mountain farther away on the island.

A brick walkway was leading them to the island. They emerged in front or a rather large, modern looking building made out of wood with dark tinted windows. “Fantasy Resort” was carved out of palm tree wood over the main door. The building was two stories high but was nonetheless completely hidden from view by the dense forest.

Inside, there were six doors, labeled from left to right A, B, C, then a staircase leading to the second floor identified as Administration, and finally doors D and E. She felt she was standing in the middle of a terminal at the airport.

Immediately, most of the “tight jeans group” divided and although most went through the door marked “D”, many headed for the doors marked A, B and C. Many were wearing the appropriate “leisure” apparel as the largest group, she assumed were customers, entered the door E.

Levels

As with all the newcomers, she was directed upstairs in a large conference room. A few minutes later a woman, elegantly dressed, entered the room. She presented herself as Madam Michelle, the manager of the resort.

She went on with the usual guides and rules. Karen learned that she would work 12 hours a day for 4 weeks before having a full week off. They were then sent to managers for their daily instructions.

Karen worked different jobs, from mopping the floor to wait tables at the five stars restaurant. It was the only place where a uniform was required. For the rest, it was “dress casual”. The only way to identify the employees was their red hats and the gold name insignia on their left breast.

With her usual rural charisma, it wasn’t long before Karen made some new friends. She was especially close to Lynda, a blond girl her age, coming from a similar background. The only difference was that it was Lynda’s second year at the resort.

“I have my evening off.” Said Lynda one day. “How about you?”

“Yes, they gave me the evening off too. Not a bad thing.”

“Great. Why don’t you come to my room? We could talk some more about our farms.” Said Lynda.

Karen agreed and after dinner, she headed for Lynda’s quarters. Like Karen’s, it was a series of small motel like rooms, in “blocks” hidden from view from the main customer’s areas. She knocked at the door. Lynda opened and had her enter the small room. Karen was stunned at the sight, though.

In front of her, was a struggling woman, trying to walk on extreme high heels while trying to pull on the tightest pair of jeans she ever saw.

“I was really hoping you would come. I’ve been trying to get into these for the past two weeks but just couldn’t. Can you give me a hand?” she said as she laid on the bed, grabbing the sides of the zipper.

“I can help you easily: buy a larger size… or perhaps three larger sizes.” Said Karen.

“Very funny. Now grab those pliers and pull on the zipper while I… pull…. These…. Together… Yes! That’s it… more…. Half way through… Don’t give up… You can do it…”

“You don’t need to pep me up this much, you know?” said Karen while giving another yank at the zipper.

“I’m pepping myself… Almost done! Yes! Now quick! The button… Ugh… Yes! That’s it. Ooooff” she said, letting her lungs breath again. “Wow, that’s a heck of a feeling.” She said as she rub her hands along her thighs, having a peak at her crotch, feeling the side seams ready to tear open, and the zipper ready to call it quits. “Give me a hand, will ya?” she said while extending her arm.

Karen pulled on her arm, making her stand up. She stumbled on the extreme heels, at least four inches, of her high heels pumps.

“What the hell is all this for?” asked Karen, puzzled. “You want to be in the Guinness record book for the tightest jeans or something?”

“No, I aim to enter on the D level.”

Karen had a puzzled look.

“The D level. We’re in E, I want to go in D, get it?”

“Yes, I get it, but I heard E was for the ordinary guests, and their status raises as they go upward toward the A group where the richest go. So I understood.” Said Karen.

“Yes, but that’s only part of it. WE have to provide different… hum… entertainment for each group. To get into the group D, you have to be able to wear extremely tight jeans and high heels, and be able to perform your duties to perfection in them.”

“Say what?”

“They allow willing personnel to have a look at the next level on the first of every month. This gives you an idea of how things are done. If it interests you, all you have to do is prove that you can make the mark. That’s why from time to time, you’ll see gals and guys in tight jeans doing their duties. Then, you either see them back in their regular attire, or… going to the next level.”

“Guys? I mean guys in tight jeans could be okay but heels?”

“Yeah… apparently, heels are optional for guys… hopefully.” She said with laugh while doing her hundredth back and forth walk in her small room.

“What’s the catch? I mean, why torture yourself for all this?”

“Money, my dear. Your salary doubles for each level.”

That was enough to trigger Karen’s curiosity. The next first day of a month was six days from now, she informed her manager that she wanted to have a look.

Looking Over The Fence

On that morning, she was given a pair of very tight stretch jeans, a long sleeve stretch but awfully tight shirt and four inches high heels sandals. Having never worn something like that before, everything was new and uncomfortable at first, but as time passed by, she actually liked it.

The small group of 3 girls and one guy was led through the D door. Karen emerged in a new world. Yes, the resort looked almost identical as the one out of the E door, but the scenery was different. Employees were easy to spot, wearing tight jeans, either denim, leather or vinyl. The women were strolling on incredibly high heels, their bodies completely covered with either cotton or spandex shirts and jackets, all extremely tight fitting. It was easy to see that some even wore a corset. They all seemed happy, and the customers not at all disturbed.

The guys in tight jeans were given quite hot looks by women but also by men, but the group was told that no sexual intercourse was allowed between customers and employees.

The tour lasted about an hour, after which they were sent back to their usual duties, not before giving back their tight clothes.

That was enough to get Karen interested. If all it took was to get used to tight jeans and high heels to double the paycheck, it could be something worth doing.

After her shift, she headed for the resort’s boutique. The clerk was not at all surprised to be asked for tight jeans.

“Do you want to go easy or hard?”

“Hard” Answered Karen. “I want to have the right answer as fast as possible.” She said.

The clerk laughed and invited her to go to a booth the size of a telephone booth. She was instructed to undress, close her eyes and stay put with her arms slightly off her sides for about 30 seconds. She then dressed up again and walked out.

When she joined the clerk, she was looking at a 3D model of Karen on her computer.

“I got you scanned by our laser measurement system. Now I have all your measurement in my system so I can choose what’s right for you.

She went to a rack and came back, giving her a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shiny light blue spandex shirt and a pair of high heels pumps with a heel of five inches.

“Learn to do your chores in those and you have a sure ticket to get to level D.”

Karen was about to leave when she stopped and turned around.

“Do… Do you have a trick to put those on? I mean, I saw one, okay I helped one to get into tight jeans and the pliers thing needed assistance. Do you have a trick to do it alone?”

“Of course.” She said, heading for a rack and picking a shiny black garment. “Put this on first. You’ll still need the pliers, but you’ll be able to do it alone.”

“That… that’s a corset!” said Karen.

“Yes, with a four inches reduction. The instructions for lacing are inside. I’ll add it to your bill.” She said, handing the garment.

Karen took it, suddenly not sure of her decision.

She got to her room and undressed. She proceeded with the underbust corset. Not surprisingly, a special hook was provided in the room where she could hook the corset laces. Then she would walk away from it. It would effectively pull the laces, tightening the corset. As the instructions said, she went slowly, leaving about a one inch gap at first, then took soe time to read a book. An hour later, she felt relatively loose enough to pull it again. She aimed for closing half way but the first thing she knew was that it was fully closed!

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, feeling her slim waist, wrapped in the shinyblack silk of the garment, with her hand. She had a stunning figure.

Getting the tight jeans on proved to be a struggle. She couldn’t bend much at the waist because of the rigid corset. Once the legs were in, she figured that she was better to put the footwear now as she might not be able to do it after the jeans would be on.

She wiggled her feet inside the skyscraper heels and hobbled to the bed where she let herself drop on her back. She began to twist, bend, squirm, pulling one side, then the other one, then the back, then the crotch, until she felt the crotch seam firmly resting between her legs.

Panting, she took a break. She felt the corset made everything more difficult, especially by shortening her breaths. She grabbed the sides of the jeans then the long nose pliers and began to pull on the zipper. Slowly, tooth by tooth, it went up. It took her five attempts to get it all the way up. She then fastened the button, which was relatively easy, and let her arms drop by her sides with a long sigh.

“Finally, it’s done.” She said to herself. But then the task, or rather the challenge of getting up arose. She laughed at her reflection in the mirror of the dresser. It was neither pretty nor gracious at all, but she managed to get up and stabilize herself on the new position of her feet.

Suddenly, the pressure on her waist, the pressure on her hips, buns and thighs, and the work her legs muscles had to do to keep her on the heels made her very well aware of her situation… and how hot she was quickly becoming.

She began to pace back and forth in her small room, and she was soon to discover that making barely five steps before having to turn around and start again was not going to be enough. She had to take a longer walk. But she was still only wearing her bra for the top.

She reached in the bag and fetched the spandex shirt the clerk had suggested she bought. She unfolded it and tried to unfold it some more only to realize that, well, that was it. That piece of cloth, or rather tube, had the right body and arm length but was about wide enough for one of her thighs to fit it. It was going to be a heck of a stretch!

She tried it. Just pulling it over her head was a heck of a challenge. Then feeding her arms in the sleeves half as wide as her arms was painstaking especially after she realized that it had built-in gloves. Now it was all rolled and packed between her breasts and her armpits.

Struggling against the already too small garment, she managed to unroll it and have it go over her breasts, which squeezed them really hard, then down to her stomach where it conformed to every notch and bump of the corset, to end coving the belt portion of her extra-tight jeans. The underside of the bottom of the shirt was made like the hook side of a Velcro strip and hooked to the denim, as if designed on purpose.

She flexed her arms, feeling the tight spandex pinch at her elbows, flexed her fingers, discovering that she could now barely close her fist. She feared it would split open, but it was apparently woven to take this kind of treatment.

Now each breath was a challenge. First she had her waist crushed by the corset and now, her upper chest was held tight by this compression garment, squeezing her ample breasts which looked like squished grapefruits. But the feeling! Her nipples were now sensitive as hell!

As if afraid of being caught doing something bad, she carefully opened the door, looking if someone was nearby. Seeing and hearing nothing, she walked out and began to walk on the stone walkway.

Rather quickly, she figured out how to wiggle her buns and twist her hips to walk properly with everything locked in the tight garments. The balancing of her arms became part of the whole process as the tight spandex shirt was somewhat locked to the rest of the momentum.

And the best? She liked it. She liked the way she had to push her butt out and her breasts in to compensate for the high heels, the way her buns were getting squeezed each and every steps of the way, her breasts getting squeezed with each breath. From afar, she saw someone else, dressed in a similar fashion, probably getting acquainted to all of it, although it appeared that she had a hard time walking on the heels. Then again, Karen couldn’t possibly know what she looked like. She might be looking exactly like her. Hey, could it be Lynda?

She walked to get closer. The girl turned in her direction and blushed when she saw a copy of herself, except for the color of the spandex shirt which was burgundy. No, it wasn’t Lynda, but taking a walk might be just what she needed.

Karen walked to Lynda’s room and knocked on it. No answer. She knocked again.

“Lynda, it’s me, Karen. Are you there?”

Finally, the door opened and she saw Lynda, struggling again to fasten the jeans. Lynda froze and was stunned at the sight in front of her.

“What the hell… Oh wow, come on in. Geesh! How did you… is it tight?… oh darn! How did you put this all on? Who helped you?”

Karen laughed and told Lynda what happened at the store and what she did.

“Oh, I got my jeans in the city, so I was never advised at getting a corset. I should go check with her. In the meantime, do you mind helping me? I would sure go for a walk with you.”

Half an hour later, the two women were coming out of the room, Karen steady and erect, and Lynda, wobbling on her high heels, walking awkwardly with her tight jeans. For the top, she had only a tight T-Shirt.

Karen was quick to pick up a rather good pace, but was slowed down by Lynda who was struggling on every step.

“Geesh…. Ever wear something like this before? It seems so easy to you.” Said Lynda.

“Nope, it’s the first time actually. Never wore high heels at all, I always stuck to sneakers.” Answered Karen.

The walk wasn’t very long. Lynda just couldn’t stand it. Her hips were hurting and her feet were about to call it quits.

“How about you”, she asked.

“I’m fine, in fact I’m better than fine.” Said Karen. “I’m getting quite horny at this setup. Never experienced anything like that before.”

Lynda could hardly believe her. They headed back for her room where they watched some TV, Lynda quickly getting back in her bathrobe and plush slippers while Karen simply laid on the bed. They barely watched TV, mainly talking about each other’s family.

After a while Karen startled.

“Geesh. Almost 01:00! I must get back to my room. I have to be on the job at 07:00. See ya!” she said, quickly walking back to her room, which only increased her level of arousal.

Once she arrived, she let herself collapse on the bed. Her fingers were quick to find her crotch, and the shiny gloved fingers began to dance, scratching, tapping, rubbing. Faster than she could have imagined it, she felt the orgasm built on, getting stronger and stronger by the second, until it exploded in a way she never felt before.

Exhausted, she fell asleep.

Not Your Average Day.

Karen startled! She had forgotten to set the alarm clock! Frantically, she looked at it: 6:52. She barely had time to get there. When she tried to get up, she was hit by reality: she had slept in her extra-tight attire. Just getting out of it would take at least half an hour. She had no time, and she was told never to be late, and especially not on this occasion. She had no choices. She ran to the meeting dressed as she was.

Of course, all the others were in shorts and sandals. Only Karen was standing out, standing tall and standing tightly enclosed. The manager twitched when she saw her but no comment was added. She was in time and the rules said that the dress code was left to the employees, as long as they were wearing their hat and badge, which Karen had.

She was assigned to wait at tables near the pool. For the whole day, she walked back and forth between the bar and the customers, making her heels click on the granite patio around the recessed pool. At one point, there was a row of tables, all occupied by men. Always the one standing at the far end would order something. Karen would have to walk all the way, feeling the heavy looks of the guys following her tightly encased butt all the way down, and back to the bar. Then the guys would all move one chair down, and the “new” guy at the far end would order a drink. She did it 14 times. But she had understood their games from the start and was giving them the show of their life, which was paid by generous tips she gladly shared with the other waitresses and the barman. She had never planned to be the center of attention and steal everybody’s tip. The other waitresses, who were kind of jealous of her, came to the conclusion that it was not a bad girl after all, and she made quite a few new friends, especially eager to know why she had dressed this way.

By the end of her day, the manager walked by her.

“Come se me when you’re done. I think we need to talk.” She said, glancing a look at her tight clothes.

Karen feared to be reprimanded, but the other waitresses and the barman said that they would back her up. No hard feelings.

She walked to the manager’s office. Another manager was there too. She asked her to take a seat. Karen preferred stay up. The manager offered a stool, understanding that Karen couldn’t sit dressed as she was. That was a relief.

Karen had thought right about the reason the manager wanted to see her. She explained what happened, the oversleeping, etc.

“And how are you feeling right now?”

“I… mean… I know this wasn’t right and all I had to do is double check my alarm clock so…”

“No.” cut in the other manager. “Now how you feel about the situation. How do you feel dressed as you are? Are you aching? How are your feet?”

“Err…” Said Karen, caught unguarded, “I… I feel fine actually. My feet are a little sore but I could keep them for some time again. As for the jeans and corset, well… I pretty much forget those… until I have to bend down… I must sound totally silly.” She said.

“Actually you sound perfect.” She said with a smile. “I’m Caroline. I’m the head manager for the level D. Many girls, and guys, try hard to get accustomed to this kind of attire. For you, it’s like your body is made for it.”

“Well… thanks… I think.”

“I need someone like you. I assume you were doing it so you would come to work at the level D, right? Would you start tomorrow?”

Level D

She began her work at level D with the same job: waiting tables by the pool. Except this time, all the waitresses were in tight jeans, tight spandex shirts and high heels. Karen was the only one with a long sleeves shirt though.

The barman was a handsome guy, wearing a tight semi-transparent T-shirt and very tight leather jeans, showing his… masculinity. He had an obvious hard-on by looking at those pretty girls buzzing around him to serve drinks but he didn’t mind it being shown.

Karen received good tips. She did this job for the first two weeks. She was given different jeans and shirts and a schedule to wear it so that no two waitresses would wear the same attire on the same day. She had different colors of jeans, even one with broderies and another one with a very psychedelic bleached pattern, different styles of spandex shirt, dull, shiny, long and short sleeves, with or without gloves, turtle neck and scoop neck. One common thread: extremely tight fitting.

As for the heels, she was made to wear classic pumps, then platforms of different heights, sandals, but no one had a heel shorter than 4.5 inches.

She was then sent to do cleaning chores, always in tight jeans, spandex shirt and high heels, but it lasted only two days. Apparently, customers at the bar demanded her presence. She was becoming a sensation. She was one of those rare persons for whom a setup like this was somewhat natural. She walked very sexily, without any kind of struggling. She was a natural beauty to watch.

And she loved every minute of it, and became really hot quite a few times. Then one morning, Caroline called Karen in her office with a special request.

“You know that, as a tourist resort, we aim at total customer satisfaction. Sometimes, a customer would come to us with a special Request. Mister M is a regular at the resort, and also for special requests. He saw you at the bar and asked if you would be willing to make his wishes a reality.”

“Err. That depends. I mean, I’m no prostitute and…”

“No.” quickly cut in Caroline. “No sexual intercourse of any kind is permitted between employees and customers. Here’s the deal.” Said Caroline, explaining the setup.

At first, Karen frowned, then smiled, then became wide eyes, to finally end up thinking.

“There’s a premium of $200 a day for it.” Said Caroline.

“$200 a day? The setup is for fourteen days. That’s $2800! I’m going to med school. This is really helpful. Okay, I’m in.”

“You’re sure? If you do it only for the money you might not give the … performance mister M is expecting. In this case, you won’t have the $200 a day bonus.”

“No I like the setup. In fact, I was almost doing it by myself, less the locks, of course.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was sleeping with the corset for the past five days. I don’t know how 14 days of it will go, though.”

“That’s very good. In any case, mister M and myself understands that it may be difficult and if you can’t go through it will be okay. Very well then. I’ll be back in a few hours with everything needed. You start right now.” Said Caroline before leaving. “Better take a long bath.” She said, smiling.

Karen did. It will be her last bath for the next two weeks. She will have to do with quick showers.

About an hour later, Caroline was back with another girl. Karen was disturbed when she saw her. She was young, very beautiful but was wearing a very shiny French main uniform and, apart from her face, every part of any visible skin was just as shiny, like covered with varnish. She was standing on six inches heels pumps, but didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Hello again, Karen. This is Carry. She’ll be the one that will help you for the next two weeks.”

Karen was handed on a pair of silk panties and her first tight garment: a shiny black spandex shirt with long sleeves with attached gloves and a high neck. At first touch, she noticed that it was different from the others.

“Yes.” Said Carry. “It’s made of extra-heavy nylon-spandex. In short, it’s about three times thicker than what you usually wear, and five times thicker than the average commercially available spandex leotard.”

“Looks tighter too.” Said Karen as she struggled to put her arms in it.

“Actually, it’s the same size as the others you wore, but since it’s so much thicker, it’s less stretchy, hence feel tighter.”

“Ah.” Was all she could answer before the collar was forced over her head, squishing her nose on the way down, compressing her throat once in place. Next they had to pull it down over her ample breasts, which proved quite a challenge. It clanged to her body like a second skin, actually smaller than her own outer skin. Everything was visible, including her erect nipples. Yes, she loved it.

Next came the corset: overbust corset made of fine black kid leather. As they tightened it over her waist, she felt it crushed quite some more than usual.

“Isn’t this supposed to be only one inch smaller than the previous one.”

“That’s what mister M told me.” Said Caroline.

“It means 2 inches less for sure, probably three.” Said Carry as she gave a good yank.

“Holy squeezing! This is really tight.” Said Karen as she felt it become tighter with another strong pull.

Once it was all laced up, she ran her spandex gloved hands over it, feeling how tight it was and especially how rigid it was. It was covering her from the hips up to her armpits. She had to breath in very short gasps.

“Okay, the jeans now, if you will.” Said Caroline, picking up the garment of a nice faded blue with a dark blue embroidered flower on each thigh as well as on each back pocket.

“Mister M’s own design.” Said Caroline. “Quite pretty I must say…. And very tight.”

With this, she asked Karen to lift her leg one at a time so they would start to feed the jeans on. Then they pulled up, and yanked. At one point, Karen was being lifted in the air by the jeans as Caroline and Carry yanked her up, shaking the jeans to make her sink in it.

After about 15 minutes of this exhausting procedure, Karen felt the crotch seam resting firmly on her crotch and the butt seam firmly embedded between her buns.

“Time to fasten these. Lay on the bed, please.” Said Carry, producing a spidery looking device and climbing on Karen’s legs, sitting on her knees.

It looked like a creepy creature with six claws. Each claw had tiny hooks. She put the devices firmly over the zipper of the jeans. The claws were reaching about two inches on each side of it. She then cranked a handle and the jaws began to close. The tiny spikes took a firm hold of the jeans and the whole thing started to squeeze them, squishing Karen inside but easily bringing the sides of the zipper together.

“You seem to know very well how to use it.” Said Karen.

“Of course.” Said Carry. “I was mister M’s choice last year. I went through what you are going through now.”

“Really? And why you’re not his choice this year?”

“I’m in level C now.”

“Ah… hence the rubber maid dress.”

“Yes.  Most employees wear this kit on level C, but there’s still different setups.” Next year, if you’re on level C, you’ll be here, doing what I’m doing to mister M’s new choice.” She said with a wink, as if she knew that Karen would be in level C the following year.

But Karen’s attention was quickly drawn back to her waist as the jeans were getting tighter and tighter.

“They’re so tight, I can’t believe they don’t rip.”

“That’s because they contain Kevlar. They won’t rip, believe me.” Said Carry. “There, it’s done.” She said, fastening the waist button before releasing the tightening device. Karen barely felt the difference of tightness.

“Now before you get up, the shoes.” Said Caroline, producing a beautiful pair of black kid leather d’Orsay pumps with a wide ankle strap and a locking hasp.

The shoes were put on and locked. She was then helped on her feet and a thin chromed steel belt was put around her waist. It was obviously made to fit exactly over this corset at this exact size as there was no adjustment possible. It was fastened with a small padlock in the front.

“Okay.” Said Caroline. “Now, you’re locked in your corset and in you shoes. With the corset lock, you can’t remove your shirt and since the gloves are attached, can’t remove them. Your shoes prevents you from taking off your jeans; they’re so tight around your legs that they wouldn’t go around your feet with your shoes on. Hence, you can’t take off anything without the key. Carry will be the keeper of the key,” she said with a funny smile “and will unlock you tomorrow morning to allow you to take a quick shower then you will be put back in. This is for fourteen days. Sign here please if you agree with all this.”

Karen took the pen. It felt odd to sign with gloved hands, but apparently, although Karen found her signature not really “legal” as it was barely resembling her usual one, Caroline felt everything was in order.

“Oh Karen. If you need to have a leak, you’ll have to come back here to do it. First, use the tightening device to gain some slack at the zipper, otherwise you won’t even bulge. Do what you have to do and use it again to fasten your jeans back on.”

“I will manage alone?”

“If you don’t take too long to do your job, you’ll have enough time to put it back before your body takes back it’s… space. See you tomorrow!” said Carry while leaving, walking on her six inches heels as if she was barefooted. Caroline followed.

“Err.. Excuse me, Caroline? Where do I find mister M?”

“You don’t. He doesn’t want to be identified. Just do your usual chores and activities. Don’t try to look for him either.”

“It will be difficult. Everybody will seem suspicious.” Said Karen.

“Well, apparently Carry forgot to brief you on that. That will be noted. The best behavior is to act as if mister M is invisible and always near you. I’m sure you will do fine.” Said Caroline looking at Karen’s perplexed look. “Here’s your schedule for today.”

Karen took the now common paper and looked at it. She would have to make the rooms of the 1A section. By then, it should be noon. She had to wait at the tables of the pool for the afternoon then prepare the stage for the night’s magical show.

Making the rooms proved to be a very good exercise as to learn how to move, rigid and impaired as she was. Bending was a major problem: she couldn’t.  The high heels were putting her so high that she would have needed to bend all the time, yet the only thing she could do was crouch down or bend at the hips only, and even this was difficult as the jeans were extremely tight and unyielding.

Waiting tables was something she knew, but doing it with the stiff and long corset was another story. Putting the drinks on the table was not easy, again because she could hardly bend. The customers, mainly the men, seemed quite happy to see her, enjoying the view and her struggles. No one asked about the locked corset and shoes or why she was wearing such heavy clothes on a hot sunny day.

She had figured that by mid afternoon, her feet would be killing her, but to her surprise, it was dinner time and she still felt fine. Even her hips were just a little sore of the extra work needed to do everything.

Preparing the stage meant getting all the equipment for the magician up and ready for the performance, and working off-stage if needed.

The crowd gathered around the exterior stage, illuminated by very few projectors, the rest of the décor was only torches and the natural skylight offered by the full moon.

But 10 minutes before the show, there was a snag.

“Listen.” Said Dave, the magician. “My assistant is ill and can’t come tonight. Would you care to be of help?”

“Geesh. I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my boss first but then again, I know nothing about your show.”

“Don’t worry. It will be easy and I already asked Caroline… Oh, there she is.”

“Hi Karen. Apparently you’ll be on-stage tonight?”

The Magic Show

Dave the Great began his show, informing the spectators that he does more than magic, since he mixes his magician skills with precision acts, including juggling and knife throwing. He also warned the audience that his regular assistant was not there and that Karen had gladly accepted to fill her job for the night at the last minute.

He began his show with a few magic tricks. He was signaling Karen with simple gestures to bring this tray or that cart and to go back with this prop or item. Each time, Karen felt that most of the audience was looking at her tightly encased body more than at the magician. She decided to play with the audience by dropping a few items and struggling to get them back, or faking to trip, which put a little bit of humor on the show. 

Dave didn’t seem shocked by it but rather amused. After his last juggling performance, he called Karen on the stage.

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen. My big ending: I will throw knives at Karen… and hopefully miss her.” She said under the audience laughs.

Pulling on a dark cloth, he revealed a circular vertical table with foot holds.. Karen recognized it as a classic knife throwing stand, except for the numerous straps present on the quite obvious X shape frame.

He helped Karen take place on the foot holds and instructed her to grab the handles, putting her in a quite stretched spread eagled position. He put the first strap around her ankle then stop, turning to the audience.

“I must explain the use of the straps here.” He said. “A while ago, a spectator rose during this number and complained that Tessa, my regular assistant, had moved to get clear of a knife that was too close. He said that it was cheating. So I fixed the problem on the very next show by including straps to hold Tessa in place. This way, nobody could argue that she moved.” He said, returning back to Karen, fastening the other ankle straps, then moving to the ones located below the knees, over the knees, upper thighs, waist, upper chest, upper arm and wrist.

He pulled a quite large one around her neck, forcing her head erect and almost impossible to move. He fastened everything tightly, perhaps a little too tight for Karen’s taste, but it was not the time to complain, especially since all this was only for a few minutes.

He stepped down from the board, then got back on and took a strap hanging between her legs and yanked it up under her crotch to link it to the waist belt.

Karen twitched. This last one was quite disturbing and although she was already slightly hot by the predicament, this did increase the stimulus. And there was more to come.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, Karen is all new to this and she doesn’t quite know what to expect. I have to make sure she won’t run away in the middle of the performance or I will look rather silly throwing knives to an empty board. So I have to make sure she’ll stay there.” He said, taking a black velvet bag, dipping his hand in it and getting out a handful of small brass padlocks.

He proceeded to lock the straps, one after the other. The pin of the buckle was apparently made so that a padlock could be inserted. Karen laughed although the thought that she was actually locked in, was disturbing, but not in the way she taught at first: she was getting even hotter.

Dave the Great took place and under drum rolls, he threw the knives. At some point, Karen was glad she was restrained to the board because her instincts told her to move away. She tried to close her eyes but couldn’t. She just had to see what was going on.

Dave the Great threw 10 knives before taking them back under the crowd’s applause.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, to add a little challenge, I’m going to blindfold my lovely assistant here,” he said, putting over her eyes a black silk scarf “blind myself,” he said putting a scarf on his eyes after walking to the throwing position “and… make Karen turn. If you please…” he said.

Suddenly, Karen’s board began to slowly rotate, making a turn about every minute. Now she was scared.

“Oh my god!” she said.

“Shut, shut, my dear. Do not break my concentration.” She heard Dave say.

There was the drum roll, then she heard the slam of the first knife and the “ooooo” and “ahhhh” of the crowd, and the screams of those who were sure she was getting hit.

Karen was nervous, but at the same time, aroused as hell. She didn’t know why but being tightly restrained in a situation totally out of her control, she… well, she liked it.

In reality, Dave was playing with her. He never put his blindfold on and had taken huge cardboard signs instructing the crowd to play the game. He was standing just in front of her and planting the knives on the board himself. This was revealed to Karen on the next to last throw where he… accidentally… removed her blindfold but acting as if didn’t noticed, planting the last knife between her legs as she was upside down.

“Oh… oh my god…. Oh… I’m sorry… I guess the truth is out now.” He said with the crowd laughing. When Karen was back upward, he stopped the rotation.

“Please give a hand to Karen!” he said.

“The star of the show, Dave the Great!” shouted Karen, pointing as much as she could with her restrained arms toward the magician.

The lights were turned off and the curtain dropped down.

“You were magnificent, Karen.” He said.

“Yes you were.” Said Caroline.

“Thank you. It was easy. Thanks to Dave.” Said Karen as the magician was trying keys on her left wrist padlock but didn’t seem to succeed.

“Any problem?” inquired Caroline.

“Not really… Well, until I find the right key, I do have a problem but it shouldn’t be long. Funny, they don’t go in at all. Oh dear. It’s not the right set of keys. Hold on.” He said while going back to one of his big cases to search it, getting everything out but coming back empty handed. 

He took his cell phone.

“Lets just hope she will answer it… Ah, Tessa. How are you my dear? Well, stay in bed all you need. Listen, I have locked Karen on the knife board and… yes, the ones on the black pouch… yes I’ve tried them… hum… blue key chain… What? Oh no… When… Darn… Okay thanks. Love you.”

“Well it appears we have a little problem.” He said to Karen and Caroline. “Tessa had bought a brand new set of locks, those, because the old ones were starting to get sticky. Apparently, she threw away the new set of keys and kept the old ones.”

“No problem. We’re on an island. The trash is evacuated once a week. Do you know in which trash can she threw them?”

“Yes… the one by our house… two days ago…”

“Well, we’re gonna have to cut her out of there. Sorry for your locks.” Said Caroline.

“I’m sorry for all this. I don’t care about the locks, we’ll buy new ones.”

“Good then. I’ll call for Brad, our maintenance man.”

Half an hour later, the maintenance man was there with a pair of cutters. He was trying the best he could but barely dent the locks.

“What are they made out of?” he asked Dave.

“I found this paper here in the bag… titanium alloy… Could it be it?”

“Titanium alloy? Geesh I have nothing on this island to cut through this. I’ll have to order bigger cutters from the mainland. Won’t get them before tomorrow morning, sorry.”

So there she was, spread eagled on a wood board, locked, unable to move much, and stuck like that for at least 8 to 10 hours.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this.” Said Caroline. “how do you feel?”

Karen tried to get her head closer, as if she wanted to whisper something. Since she couldn’t do it, Caroline walked closer.

“I feel horny as hell!” she said with a wink.

She was left alone in the dark. She began to slowly squirm in her bonds, feeling their restriction. It aroused her, especially the tight crotch strap. At one point, she wondered if all this was not a total and complete setup.

She didn’t mind anyway. She was able to move herself to a climax she never felt before. The biggest difficulty was to keep quiet while hopping from one cloud to the next until she reached the Milky Way…

She surprised everyone by being sound asleep when they came back the next morning. Apparently, this ordeal was not so uncomfortable after all. Brad cut the locks and in less than 10 minutes, she was out of there.

She was led to her room, allowed to take a shower and grab a bite. Caroline asked if she wanted a few hours of relief because of the previous night’s ordeal but Karen said that she was okay and she was quickly back into mister M’s setup. She was there to work and it’s not a little mishap that would distract her from her job.

The End of a Memorable Summer.

It went on like a breeze. She served as Dave the Great’s assistant the following week but this time, he had the keys to her locks. She was almost sad of not spending another night tied up to it.

She loved every minute in her tight and constricting clothes, doing all sorts of tasks and duties, getting more and more agile to perform them with the restrictions of her clothing.

Then it was back to the routine. If you call, continue to wear the same tight shirt, corset, tight jeans and extreme high heels “back” to the routine. The only difference to the real routine is that they were locked on her. She did so to her own pleasure, much to the delight of the customers and management of the resort.

Then the news came in: she had to get back to school in one week. She gave her notice to Caroline and a few days before she was set to go, Caroline came back to her with a set of boxes.

“This is not usually the case for first year’s level D, as one has to have at least one full summer on level D before going to level C, but you were so good at it, and apparently mister M gave you good comments, the management authorized me to give you a tour of level C. You first have to dress properly for it.” She said, showing the boxes.

About an hour later, Karen was walking out of her room in gleaming white and black latex:

She was wearing a complete clear rubber catsuit, then a rubber corset crushing a waist a soft four inches, followed a tight fitting French maid dress, complete with shoulder length black gloves and black pumps with a six inches heel. Karen felt almost at home. Only comment: not very tight.

“This is only a loaned suit. When you’ll get to level C, you’ll get your own, to your specifications.” Said Caroline.

She was taken down the corridor to level C, heart beating in anticipation. At the main entrance door, Caroline handed the responsibility to Carry.

“Welcome to my level.” Said Carry, dressed in the familiar French maid dress.

Karen was quick to notice that nobody around there wore anything but latex. From simple catsuit to more elaborate top and bottom suits, to the French maid outfit. But each outfit seemed aimed at specific task. For example, the lifeguard at the pool was wearing a bright orange catsuit with lifeguard printed on the front and back. The maids doing the room were in French maid uniforms as well as those serving in the 5 stars restaurant. Those at the bar were wearing tight short dresses with two third of them being worn over clear rubber catsuits.

“We can’t be in total rubber for too many days in a row. We have to let the skin breathe. That’s why some have some skin exposed. The basic rule of thumb here is: as less skin as possible.” Said Carry with a smile.

“Well, it does feel strange at first but as it becomes… sweaty, it’s quite interesting.” She said, feeling the sweat layer move over her body, sliding down her spine, gliding easily over her naturally lubricated crotch.

She was shown the different work areas. There was nothing really new to her except for the outfit. She took a turn at waiting tables in the restaurant and was appreciated by the customers. She helped Carry do some rooms of departing guests. It is not only her last week but also the end of the main tourist season.

She liked the experience and wished she would be welcomed there upon her return because she was definitely coming back.

Three days later, she was back on the mainland, pacing back and forth in her small student’s apartment, feeling her snug fitting jeans and wearing her now dull feeling platform sneakers as she was unpacking her stuff. She plugged in her computer and went to her bank website. It was the first time since she had gone to work for Fantasy Island Resort. 

She had a shock! A total shock! She did a double check, printed it. She couldn’t believe it. Yes, all the deposits were there but… there was suddenly so much money in there that… She grabbed the phone and called the HR director of the resort who confirmed that everything was correct, that they hadn’t made a mistake with the deposits.

Karen hung up and smiled. She had some shopping to do.

On the first day of class, she was the center of attraction. Well, that’s not everyday you see a student coming to school wearing platform sandals with a six inches heel, jeans so tight that climbing stairs was difficult and a rather obvious corset under a very tight spandex shirt.

Some speculating that she was dressing like that because she was dumb and that her only way to get good grades was to sleep with the teacher.

But she proved them wrong, finishing on the top 10 of her class on the very first exam, through hard work and lots of studies. She never missed a class, never missed a report, and all her work was done on time. The extra money allowed her to buy more books, to get memberships to more medical websites to deepen her knowledge. 

Her first problem arose at Christmas. She was not to come to the village dressed as a “slut” as they would say. So reluctantly, she reverted back to her snug fitting jeans and platform sneakers, although she had to research ones with higher heel. She found a model made by Volatile shoes which offered what she wanted, although not as high but it was the best she could do.

Spending the Christmas Holiday in loose fitting dress pants and dresses as well as on slippers and flat heels shoes proved boring to say the least. She was missing her corset and high heels. She would have to break the news someday… but not today.

She was back to school for the spring session. She added variety to her look by following some of the themed weeks on the campus. Hence, on cowboy week, she gladly wore extremely tight jeans, a cotton with a hint of spandex shirt, so it would be very tight, and a tan leather jacket so tight that it was taking her fifteen minutes to put it on. It has nice fringes. She had found the most beautiful cowgirl boots, the way she liked them, very stylish with a four inches heel.

On biker week, she spent the week in very tight black leather jeans with studded seams, a tight black PVC shirt and a black leather jacket so tight that she had found her unable to pick a book on a higher shelf at the library and she had to ask someone to help her. The guy was apparently very embarrassed to be besides such a beauty. She had noticed him before since she was constantly in a position so he could have a look at her. He was a fetishist and Karen was right on the money for him, but she made it clear that she wasn’t interested. Not right now anyway.

Again, she ended up in the top 10. The teachers were pleased. Her aim was to become a general surgeon. But in the meantime, she needed more money and the summer approaching, she knew where to postulate for it.

As specified when she quit the previous summer, she had to submit a new job application. They had the final decision if they wanted her back or not. She got the phone call one week later: she was welcomed but there were some changes. It was very unusual but she would report to level C immediately upon her arrival.

Level C

Karen passed her first year’s exam with flying colors, as much figuratively as literally as on this day, she had enclosed herself in her tightest pair of jeans, platform sandals with a six inches heels, red leather jacket hiding most of a pair of shoulder length black kid leather gloves  and a white PVC leotard. She might be playing with the concentration of other students, mostly males, but she didn’t give a damn. She liked it that way.

Immediately after her exam, she headed to board the last day’s ship to Paradise Island, where she was met by Caroline who was stunned to see her come in dressed like that.

“Wow. You’re early on the job.”

“Well if dressing like that is being on the job, I must say that I’ve been on the job all winter.” She said with a smile.

“Then I think it won’t matter much if I ask you to start tomorrow.” Said Caroline.

“Not at all.” Smiled Karen, eager to do more than just sitting in classes while wearing excruciatingly tight clothes.

And the next day proved no different except that the corset she chose was a lot tighter than the ones she wore in class, flexibility for sitting down for hours obliged.

She was given some cleaning duties and table waiting. After the first week, on Sunday evening, Caroline went to her with another woman, dressed in a very chic dark blue latex dress.

“Hi Karen.” Said Caroline. “This is Kristy. She’s the manager of Level C.”

“Hello Karen. Nice to meet you. Listen, I know it’s on the last minute but we had an employee that called off for the season and I need a replacement right now.”

“Really? Well, no problem.”

“Yes, glad you take it this way. Come with me, I’ll show you to your room on level C”.

Karen quickly grabbed her few personal belongings and gladly strolled her way to the level C. She had gained some experience in wearing latex during the winter when she bought her first catsuit. She had been wearing it almost every night, so much that it had ripped off days before coming to the resort.

The room was standard, identical to the ones she had before, except the closet was filled with rubber, PVC and plastic clothes instead of denim ones. She didn’t take note of the fact that the closet was already filled with clothes to her size.

Her schedule was all laid out for the week. On Monday, she was to dress with the French maid outfit. She had to wear a complete clear rubber catsuit under the maid’s outfit. The shoes were black platform sandals. She had to wear shoulder length gloves and a four inches reducing corset. A walk in the park for her.

She did all her duties, mainly room cleaning, dusting, vacuuming, changing the beds, etc. It was hard work and under the heat of the tropics, she was quick to sweat heavily under her rubber catsuit.

The feeling of this wet layer aroused her. The tingling as the sweat was running down her spine, butt crack and down her thighs was always amusing and created uncontrolled shivers that produced interesting sensations.

She was a maid for the first three days. She was scheduled to work in the laundry room for Wednesday and Thursday. She learned that there was only one laundry room for all the levels except A, and that it was located on level C.

For this job, she was wearing a white rubber catsuit under a white rubber corset with blue trim and white patent leather knee high boots with six inches heels. Friday, she was requested to wear tight black PVC jeans with black pumps and a white PVC blouse and clear rubber gloves, all very tight fitting, to wait at the tables of the main dining room. She would then be tending the bar of the attached ballroom for an evening of dancing… by the guests, of course.

The PVC changed from the latex, but she had a weakness for the rubber, and the more sealed, the more pleased she was.

Saturday and Sunday were filled by assisting the lifeguard by the pool, a handsome guy, strong built with all his muscles showing under his tight bright orange catsuit. Karen also had a very tight catsuit, but as her assistant, it was half orange and half white, divided diagonally.

She began the next week by working in the garden. To prevent her green rubber catsuit from being spoiled, she was given a snug fitting clear plastic suit to wear over it. It was hard work on the soft soil in high heel rubber boots, and the plastic suit acted like a greenhouse, trapping the heat between it and her rubber suit. Sweat was dripping down her face, which she wiped off with her green leather gloved hands.

The constant kneeling and raising only created more and more rubbing of the tight latex against her crotch, arousing her to the extreme. At one point, she had to stop and calm herself because she would have had an orgasm right there! And the tight dark green corset was not helping either, squishing her breasts every time she was leaning forward.

The garden work lasted for three exhausting days. The last two days of the week, she spent it back as the maid, welcoming the air conditioning rooms. Friday night was dancing night but this time, she was assigned at the bar for the whole evening, in her familiar clear rubber catsuit, under a very tight, light blue, thigh length dress with long sleeves. Of course, six inches light blue leather pumps were the footwear of choice for this occasion.

On Saturday, she was sent on a small excursion with Tessa as the leader. The excursion was leading a group of hikers up the volcanic mountain. Knee high leather platform boots were the footwear of choice for this hike, as well as a thick kaki PVC jeans and jacket, over a clear rubber catsuit. The thick PVC would prevent abrasion while the rubber catsuit will hold water in, preventing dehydration. That’s what she was told but as a medicine student, she knew this dehydration prevention thing was bogus.

Sunday: she was taking a much needed break after over 14 days of non-stop work. If she was to wear something, she was advised to wear a spandex catsuit or something similar. She had to take a break from sealing her skin with latex and PVC. That she knew and understood, already aware that her skin needed some fresh air. So she spent her day in a hot pink spandex catsuit. But there were no rules against high heels, so she decided on a matching pair of pink strappy sandals with a six inches heel.

A Request from Mister M.

On Sunday evening, Kristy went to see her. After the usual chit chat, Kristy became serious.

“Well Karen, I have a request for you. I believe you’re acquainted with Mister M, right?”

“Yes. Well acquainted is a big word. I had a request from him when I was on level D. Why? He’s on level C now?”

“Oh yes. Mister M goes to all levels, depending on his moods. He saw you at the dance, tending the bar and since he was very happy to know you were now on level C. He’s asking if you’ll be willing to be his choice this time again. There’s the usual bonus that comes with it.”

“Well of course. I’d love to. What will be the setup?”

“Nothing extraordinary. A latex catsuit, corset, locked chastity kit and ballet boots. Nothing to fall off your chair.” She said very seriously.

But Karen’s eyes opened wide.

“Say what? Chastity kit? Ballet boots?”

“That’s nothing. You are already wearing six inches every day. Ballet boots are just a short stretch. I’m sure you will have no problem with it. Add to the fact that wearing ballet boots is mandatory for level B and you’ll have the right incentive, right?”

“Well, okay for ballet boots. Actually I wanted to try some so it suits me, but a chastity kit? What the heck is that?”

“Simple. A chastity belt, preventing you from having any kind of sexual intercourse and stimulation, will consist of a stainless steel belt with a crotch strap, and stainless steel bra cups preventing you from playing with your tits. Everything is locked for 23 hours a day.”

“For fourteen days?”

“Err no, he asked for 21 days. It’s the first time actually that he asks for something this long. Would that be a problem?”

Karen smiled. She was already horny at the thought of being locked in all this for three weeks.

“Okay. I’m in.”

“Good. Judy will be here to give you a hand tomorrow morning. She was the chosen one last year.” Said Kristy with a smile. “Have fun.” This time her smile changed to a devilish grin.

The next morning, a tall and slim woman, wearing a tight fitting purple latex catsuit knocked at Karen’s door.

Karen was stunned at the sight: her waist was crushed by an incredibly tight corset. She was standing on knee high ballet toe boots. She was smiling although marks could be seen on her face as if it had been in prolonged contact with something. And more, she had locked ankle and wrist cuffs as well as a wide locked collar. When she entered and Karen could see her back, it was obvious that the corset was also locked on.

“Looks like you’re locked on yourself.” Said Karen, curious.

“That’s the mandatory part of level B. You have to be locked in and are often in restraints. But I like it. Can’t wait to see what’s waiting for me on level A.”

“Ah? Going there next year?”

“I hope so. There aren’t a lot of openings over there and only the best are chosen. You seem to have all it takes though. Never saw someone climb the levels as fast as you. I mean I myself had to stay on level D for 2 years and on level C for three years before being chosen by mister M.”

“What mister M has to do with this?”

“Can’t tell for sure but all the girls that got chosen by M got a promotion very fast.”

“And… excuse me for asking but what are those marks on your face? Looks like… buckles.” Said Karen.

“Oh, gag marks. I was required to wear a ball gag harness. They will be gone in a few hours. There’s a lot of challenges on level B.” said Judy.

“Wow… can’t wait to try all this then.” She said, pointing at the pile of boxes Judy had brought her.

“Okay. I must warn you, it’s going to be a struggle.” Said Judy while picking the first box and picking up a bottle of lubricant and a pile of latex. “Here, pour this in the suit and slush it around. All of it.”

“Geesh. This is very thick.” Said Karen as she picked up the rubber catsuit and poured the creamy lubricant in.

She sat on a chair and looked for an entry zipper of some sort, but found nothing.

“How do you put this thing on?” she asked, turning it on all possible sides.

“Through the neck. With this thickness and tightness, you won’t be able to put it or take it off alone.”

Karen looked at her, puzzled.

“That’s a prank, right?” she asked.

Judy giggled.

“No it’s not. Here, let me show you.” she said, stretching the neck and having Karen put both legs in it. She quickly realized that tight was putting it loosely…

“Are you sure this thing is cut for me? I mean it seems quite… small!” she said as she gave a strong tug so her feet popped into the attached feet, completely molded including individual toes.

“Did you buy clothes at the resort’s boutique?”

“Yes.” Said Karen, struggling with the other leg.

“And you went into the scanning booth?”

“Yes, why?… Don’t tell me!” said Karen, shocked.

“Yes. They have your complete body measurement. Apparently mister M can have access to this data or can order based on it. In any case, he has things made the way he wants it, which translates by extremely tight.” She said as she helped pull the suit over Karen’s waist.

The suit was already heavily compressing her legs. The rubber was extra thick and thus not very stretchy. She was more conforming to the rubber suit rather than the rubber stretching to conform to her body shape. And she now had a pretty good idea of how her waist will look: very thin.

She needed Judy’s help to stretch the neck, put her arms into the suit and into the tight sleeves until they more or less popped in the attached gloves. The thick rubber made her fingers slow and clumsy. When her other arm was put in, the suit rose up her shoulders, pushing all the air that was left out, taking its place, compressing her everywhere.

She felt the tightness of the suit everywhere, but no pulling, no tugging, contrary to all the zipper equipped suits she wore before. Although it was very thigh, it was the most comfortable catsuit she ever wore.

Her breasts were forced into molded rubber cups a little small for her large features, squishing them tightly. Even her neck was tightly encased, making swallowing difficult.

Karen’s breath shivered and her hands were drawn to her crotch. She loved every sensation this extremely tight and rigid suit was giving her.

“Incredible feeling, right?” said Judy with a smile.

Karen didn’t need to answer. Her body language did.

Judy produced the underbust leather corset. Karen couldn’t believe that she could be crushed even more, but she did, reducing her waist by a total of five inches. Then it was the chastity belt: a highly polished chromed steel belt. There was only one adjustment and it proved tight even over her corset. First the waist band was fastened then the crotch strap was pulled tight between her legs, pushing on her crotch. Judy struggled to reach the locking pin at the front but managed amidst Karen’s rather loud moans. There was a click sound and she was set.

The chastity bra was made of two chromed cups with shoulder straps, and a chest strap, all locked in her back. Once secured in them, she couldn’t remove any of the items, and she couldn’t touch herself. And even though she had been wearing them for a few minutes, they proved frustrating as she wished she could be able to rub her crotch and squish her breasts…as if they weren’t squished enough under the tight rubber catsuit.

Ballet boots were put on. They were the same style as Judy: nice kid leather, knee high. Very high quality. Karen was quick to find her balance point much to Judy’s surprise.

“Wore this before. Tell me the truth.”

“No, I swear. First time. Geesh, feels odd.”

“You are amazing Karen. You know that? Even after spending one year in six inches it took me a day to walk the way you do right now only a few minutes after putting them on. Either you’re a good liar or you have a gift.”

“I would say that I have a gift… I come from a small farming village. I never knew things like this existed before working here.” Said Karen the most seriously and then gave a frustrating grin as she couldn’t touch herself.

“Yes. This is devilish.” Said Lynda. 

She finished Karen’s outfit by adding locks to the boots and a high collar, also locked, preventing her from even slipping her fingers inside the suit’s collar.

“There. You’re all set. I’ll be back tomorrow at 6 to help get you out of it, then you’ll be back in. You have 14 days like that, and believe me, all hell will break loose way before that”

“Fourteen days? Kristy talked to me for about 21 days.”

“Twenty-one? Geesh that’s quite a long time. Well if Kristy said so. I will confirm with her in any case because I will have to re-arrange my schedule. See you tomorrow.”

Judy walked out then was back almost immediately.

“I forgot. Here’s your duty for the day.” She said, handing her a paper then leaving, having a very devilish smile on her face.

Karen took the note and frowned. There was nothing much, only cleaning rooms for the morning and providing towels for the guests by the pool for the afternoon.

First order of business: stay focused

She walked out of the room and headed for the motel section. She had only about thirty steps made when she began to realize the consequences of the setup: the tight crotch strap of the chastity belt was pushing hard on her crotch. As she walked, it created a very noticeable rub. Her clitoris got rubbed back and forth non-stop. Already, barely out of her room, she was hot as hell… but couldn’t do anything about it. 

Reaching the motel section proved hellish. She was hot as hell but couldn’t release any of the steam. She was heavily sweating which created a lubricant coating between her skin and the thick rubber, generating another rubbing which touched her sensitive nipples.

Moving the vacuum broom back and forth created a movement of her breasts, inside the tight cups, lubricated by the creamy lubricant and her own sweat, massaging it. The tightness of the suit over them created a very noticeable squishing. Many times she instinctively put her hands over her breasts, to rub them, massage them, pinch the nipple, but all the actions were blocked by the steel cups. The same for her crotch after the numerous movements needed to make a bed and walk to the other room.

Walking on the ballet boots was not helping. Working her legs this way increased the pressure on her crotch as her hips muscles were very much straining with the task. Walking back and forth in the afternoon to give customers their needed towels, or provide them with a chair was also hellish, and she had to stop a couple of times to try to cool down. Being kept on the verge of orgasming without actually being able to do it was pure frustration.

With every move, she had to fight the tight rubber. Stretching her arms needed extra effort. With every step, she could feel the thick but also incredibly tight rubber fill the crease created by her buns, squishing it upward, like a huge hand massaging it. Every time she was flexing her elbow, she could feel it pinch the rubber. Although the rubber was sticky on her fingertips, grabbing an object was difficult since she had absolutely no sense of touch.

She was living a partial sensory deprivation from the exterior world, but parts of her senses were highly stimulated from the inside. It created a very weird contrast, like drinking cold water from a hot cup.

In the evening, she was glad to be able to retreat to her room to relax. Of course, the first order of business was trying to satisfy herself but trying as she might, she was totally unable. The chastity kit was perfectly fulfilling its duty: total frustration.

Sleeping proved difficult as she was instinctively reaching for her crotch or her breasts, only to be blocked by the hard steel devices locked in place.

She had barely slept and barely cooled off when Judy knocked at the door the next morning.

“Hello sweetie. So how was your first day?”

“Hellish! I can’t believe how it is.”

“Yes, I know, and it’s only the start of it.”

“Yeah. Can barely wait to satisfy myself.”

“No can do, Karen. You get everything off, then since you won’t have the corset, I put back on a slightly larger chastity belt and the chastity bra, you have 5 minutes to shower, then it’s back in.”

“Nah… come on. You’re not to lock me in all the time…. Please…. Ppplllleeeeaassseee.” She said, her eyes filling with water.

“It’s in the contract you signed with mister M, Karen… if you read it: total sexual deprivation for 14, oh sorry, 21 days. Yes, Kristy confirmed it to me.” Said Judy with a devilish smile. “Told you it would be a heck of a ride.”

Heck… no. HELL of a ride!

For the first 10 days, Karen had pretty much the same tasks, which was to make the rooms and attend the pool users. She also got to wait at the tables at the bar. Picking up the glasses with her thick rubber covered gloves proved not that easy.

One Friday evening, she was asked to be the hostess, taking the guests to their table for the week’s formal dinner. Of course, being in a catsuit was out of the question. She was given a dark blue evening dress with long sleeves and high neck, hiding her steel equipment, although the dress was itself so tight fitting that the contour of the steel belts could be clearly made out. But at least, they were not directly showing. The bottom of the dress was medium in size, allowing her to take comfortable steps. It had a frilled white rubber collar as well as white frilled wrist cuffs and a frilled bottom. She was often complemented by her look and incredible figure, of course the steel breast cups giving the appearance of large extra-firm breasts.

In the middle of the meal, Kristy approached Karen.

“Come with me, Karen, someone would like to meet you.” She said, directing her to a table where two women were sitting, both dressed in black satin dresses.

“Lady Simone, Lady Petra, may I present you Karen.”

Karen shook their hands in a very formal manner while they were discussing her thin waist and the chastity kit hidden under the tight dress.

“My group and I are going for the big bicycle tour tomorrow. We’ve been here before and we know our way around but the resort rules stipulate that at least one member from the resort’s personnel must accompany us. Would you be this person, Karen?” asked Lady Petra.

Karen startled. In a flash, she imagined herself in a bicycle with her ballet boots and it was frightening.

“Gee… I… I don’t know… I don’t think I can…” she said, looking at Kristy who didn’t seem surprised the least by the request.

“Of course you can. I’m sure she will be delighted.” Said Kristy to the two women, gently tapping Karen’s shoulder.

“That’s just perfect, then.” Said Lady Simone. “We will depart by 9. Be there.” She said with a wink.

“Yes Ladies. I will be there.” Said Karen, bowing slightly before walking away with Kristy.

“What the hell is this all about? You want me to go on a bike ride wearing a chastity belt and ballet boots? How will I…”

“Don’t worry.  You’re not the first. We have a bicycle especially modified for that: the pedals are just one rod which you grab between your sole and the heel. It’s that simple.” She said from a calm tone.

“But the big bicycle tour. That’s a 20km ride”

“Yes, and at the speed they’ll do it, it will take you probably four to five hours. They are no fast riders.” She said with a devilish smile. “You’ll love it.”

“I bet I will.” Said Karen who suddenly had to get back to work as a late arriving guest presented himself.

The next morning, Karen presented herself, very well buffed and shiny at the starting line for the bicycle tour. Kristy was there with a mountain bike which looked exactly like the two other ones except for the pedals which were only steel shafts and the saddle which had no padding at all.

“There you go, Karen. And you got a few things here in the back luggage bags.” She said, opening one of the two bags attached to the rear wheel of the bike. “Here you have an emergency kit for the bike.” She said, showing a tire repair kit, “and an emergency kit for yourself.” She said, showing another tire repair kit while smiling wide.” Don’t worry, on this one they added antiseptic ointment and some bandages.” She said, holding back a laugh. “On the other suitcase you have something to snack and drink. Now, here’s your helmet.” She said, producing a helmet similar to a regular bicycle helmet except that it had a clear rubber hood attached to it. “Way better to hold it down than those silly straps… err… I mean they look great on you, Ladies.” She quickly said to save herself in front of the frowning ladies fastening their helmets the old fashion way.

Karen’s collar was removed, the hood was put over her head and the collar was put back on. She had no way to take it off. Fortunately, it had eye holes and a mouth hole. Finally, Kristy handed to Karen a pair of very stylish dark tinted riding goggles which added just the right touch on her now shiny face.

“Just perfect. Well, Ladies, Karen, I’m leaving you to your little entertainment.” Said Kristy, leaving while waving goodbye.

“Well girls, time to go.” Said Lady Simone while taking the lead, followed by Lady Petra, three more women and Karen who was struggling to first, get enough speed to put her feet on the pedals then finding a way to sit on the hard saddle. No cushioning… Probably on purpose, she thought.

So her whole weight was resting on the crotch strap of the chastity belt. Every vibration of the bike was directly transmitted to her crotch. Deadly!

She tried to stay off the saddle as often as she could but many times, the Ladies were riding so slow that she didn’t have other choices than to sit down. Her struggle and discomfort seemed to amuse the Ladies.

“Troubles, Karen.”

“No, Lady Petra.  I’m fine. I just need to make some… adjustments. It’s not the way I’m used to riding a bike.” Said Karen.

And off they went, quite slowly, easy riding for the Ladies. Karen was learning quite a few things, the first was the suit was perhaps okay for walking but for riding a bike, which asks for extreme leg movements, it was rather stiff. On every turn of the pedals, she could feel the rubber pinch the back of her knee when it was up, as well as the back of her bun when the leg was down.

With the corset, she also had to rock her hips on each side. With the weight resting on the crotch strap of the chastity belt, she quickly discovered that the bare seat transmitted every little bump of the road directly to her. She was getting vibrated constantly.

It wasn’t long before she was sweating like a pig under her rubber covering, which made it glide even more.

Arms extended, she could feel the sweat run down her spine, and down the front, between her very sensitive breasts getting a massage with turn of the pedal by the corset slightly moving up and down.

She started moaning. She was getting excited to the last level without any means of being able to relieve herself. Although the Ladies were not riding very fast, Karen was behind and the gap was increasing by the minute.

“Come on, Karen. You’re young, you should be able to ride a lot faster than that.”

“Yes… Ladies… I…. Doooooing the best I caaaan.” She said, moaning all the way as she accelerated to meet with them.

“You have to stay with us, Karen.” Said Lady Simone with a smile. “Maybe if we go faster, things will be easier for you.”

And they accelerated. Karen had to get up to get faster, which was somewhat of a relief as she was not sitting on the hard saddle anymore. When she picked up enough speed, she sat down only to moan even more, so she tried to stay up for a longer time, but pedaling while being up didn’t helped as the leg movements are full, pinching her buns, squishing her crotch, making the chastity belt rub against it. It was hard to figure out what was worse.

One thing she couldn’t stop was her moaning and it became rapidly an annoyance for the Ladies which complained to Lady Petra.

“Can you stop it, Karen? This is getting on my friends nerves, and mine big time.” She said.

I’m sorry, ladies, but the chastity belt is resting on…”

“I don’t want to know why, I want you to stop, Karen. Is it that hard?”

“I’m sorry, Lady Petra. I’ll keep quiet.”

And they resumed their ride, but although Karen tried very hard, she couldn’t hold everything back. Lady Petra stopped, fished into one of her saddle bags and produced a roll of grey duct tape.

“I think this should fix the problem.” She said as she approached Karen.

She had no choice. Lady Petra, under the amused smile of Lady Simone, wrapped Karen’s mouth with the thick and heavy tape. Three complete turns as tight as she could.

“There, now let’s continue our little ride, shall we?”

And on they went. Karen was now mute but she was still struggling with all the stimulation she was receiving, from the pinching of the suit to the massage given by the corset to the struggle of her crotch steel strap.

Karen was panting hard as they were climbing a rather steep hill when rain began to fall, very gently, almost in a fog.

“Better cover up.” Said Lady Petra stopping by the side of the trail. She got out three clear PVC packages, handed one to Lady Simone and one to Karen.

Karen took the package but gestured, as she was gagged, that she didn’t really needed rain protection since she was already covered in waterproof rubber.

“This isn’t to protect your skin, it’s to protect your clothes. With the acid rains and all that shit falling on us, better protect what you wear.” Said Lady Petra.

Karen unfolded the clear plastic suit. It was in two parts: pants and jacket. She began by the pants. They were not tight, but not loose either. The same with the jacket which appeared to have quite long arms that would be just perfect with the arms stretched on the bicycle. As it was already raining, her rubber suit was already covered with zillions of small droplets of water. When she slid the clear PVC pants over them, it created a very cute pattern and made the PVC stick to her rubber. It also produced a unique creaking sound.

The same with the jacket which was covering her to the hips. It had been cut specifically to follow a woman’s curves. It was following so much her own curves that Karen thought for an instant that it had been cut specifically for her.

Once all dressed up, they resumed their ride. Now the sound of the plastic crinkling was added to Karen’s rubber creaking. The layer of rubber shine on her latex suit makes the plastic suit glide but also make weird noises. The rain became heavier as they approached a Y junction. On the right was indicated “Level C” and on the left was indicated “Level B – Authorized personnel and customers only.”

Having a Peek at Level B?

They headed for the left. Immediately Karen moaned as loud as she could through her gag to have them stop.

“What now?” asked Lady Simone.

Karen got off her bike and walked to the sign, pointing to the restriction.

“We all have the right to go to level B” said Lady Petra, showing her orange bracelet.

Karen pointed to herself and nodded no.

“She’s right, Lady Petra.” Sais Lady Simone. “She’s not allowed there. She’s only level C.”

“You’re right. Bondage is mandatory for level C personnel. I’ll fix that.” She said, picking again the roll of duct tape. 

She had Karen sit on the bike and taped her hands on the handlebars. She had Karen keep one foot on the ground and put the other on the pedal. She then taped that foot to the pedal. Karen was now taped to the bicycle, unable to take her hands off of it and only one foot.

“Come, now.” Said Lady Petra as she led the group inside the level B area.

Karen was stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one side, she couldn’t leave a group of customers by themselves on the bike trail, and she couldn’t go where they were going. What to do. Tied up as she was, she had not much choice than to follow.

She felt as if she was invading a private property, knowingly aware that what she was doing was illegal. Now, all tied up restricted the little freedom she had on the bicycle, which increased the body moves she had to make while pedaling. Of course, all this translated to increased stimulation. She was so hot and excited when they reached some small restaurant that she was ready to collapse.

Lady Petra and Lady Simone had a conversation, apparently about Karen’s presence and what they should do with her. It was decided that she would be untied from her bike and tape wrapped to the nearby lamp post.

So there she was, legs tightly cinched together, taped from the ankle up to the thighs, then wrapped to the lamp post. Her arms were drawn in her back, behind the post and wrapped from the wrists to about the elbows, then her waist and chest were wrapped to the post. Finally, her neck and forehead were also wrapped to the post. In short, she wasn’t going anywhere and wasn’t moving a fingernail.

She couldn’t move her head but she could see in front of her and what she saw only made her hotter.

Everywhere, the employees were in some sort of restraints. Some were lights like simple handcuffs. Others were much heavier like hobble chains or single gloves forcing the elbows together in their back. Every restraint was carefully adapted to the work they had to do. The girl cleaning the sidewalk had her hands linked to the broom handle with rigid cuffs as her feet, standing on platform boots with a six inches heel, were linked with a short rigid hobble bar. Another one was cleaning the windows with one arm while the other was held against her body by a one-arm straight jacket. Both were gagged. The broom lady had a complicated and very restrictive harness ball gag while the window cleaner had a simple tape gag.

The woman serving at the coffee shop where the Ladies had gone had a ring gag, allowing some kind of talking, but her arms were tied in her back. She was carrying the drinks in a tray tied to her tiny, probably corseted, waist, and the customers had to pick them up although she had to flex down to put her tray at table level while maintaining everything leveled. Difficult when not impaired, but when bound and standing on six inches stiletto heels, ankles linked by a hobble chain, it’s downright worthy of a circus act.

Karen was left bound to her lamp post for close to an hour before she was released and taped back to the bicycle. Good thing it wasn’t raining anymore because all the tape, when taken off, tore off the plastic rain suit.

The group headed back to the level C area and rode to the start/finish line. Once there, they all took the direction of their respective rooms, leaving Karen taped to her bike. Nobody was allowed to ride a bike elsewhere than the bicycle trail, so Karen stayed there, hoping that someone would search for her, knowing that the Ladies were back.

It was over an hour later than Kristy saw Karen, standing there, gagged and taped to her bicycle. She was wondering where she was since she saw the ladies had come back.

“Oh geesh! I’m sorry Karen. They told me they would behave. Are you alright?” she asked once the gag was removed.

“Yes, I’m fine. In… compensation for all this, can I have the… chastity devices off for, oh half an hour should be fine.” She said with a wide smile.

“No can do.” Said Kristy. “but I’m giving you the rest of the day off.” She said with a devilish smile. Karen was starting to be fed up of that darn devilish smile she was given all the time, as if all this was a very well… planned… setup… Ohhhh….

21 Days… Already?

By then, it was a very well orchestrated routine: in the morning, Judy would come, help Karen get out of the rubber catsuit, corset and chastity kit, then snap on the shower chastity belt and bra, stay with her while she’s taking a much needed shower since she had been caught trying to have a go at it in the shower, then it would be back in the tight rubber catsuit, ballet boots, corset and chastity belt and bra.

But this morning was different. After the shower, Judy removed the shower chastity belt and bra and stopped there.

“There. All done. How does it feel to be free?”

“Free? You mean it’s been 21 days… already?”

“Yes.” Said Judy laughing. “If you want I can go ask if mister M would want you longer in it…”

“NO! No… thanks Judy. And now… what?”

“Well Kristy told me that you have your day off so… enjoy yourself.” She said with a large smile, throwing a vibrating dildo on the bed. “Have fun”.

And she went, leaving Karen alone. 

She was quick on the bed, getting horny and hot. The vibrating dildo was fired and she was quick to rub it against her body, everywhere. It wasn’t long before she was squishing her breasts with one hand while rubbing the dildo on her crotch. She was getting hot but… something was missing. She was feeling hot all right, but… not enough. Could it be?

She looked at the rubber catsuit laying on the nearby chair and immediately her breath began shaking. Oh yes, she would put the suit on.

Without help, the suit proved extremely difficult to put on. She was panting like hell when the suit took its place, sealing her in, and she realized that now she would be incapable of removing the suit by herself. It made her even hotter!

She put on the ballet toe boots and fastened them tightly around her legs. Next she stared at the corset for a few seconds before picking it up and wrapping herself. She was so used to wearing it that she easily closed it on her own!

Now she was back on the bed, legs spread, rubbing the dildo on her crotch, opening the crotch zipper to have a better feeling of it. Soon, the dildo was entering her private parts, slowly rocking back and forth as it was vibrating her to the moon.

She exploded in a very loud and low pitch grunt. 21 days of frustration were getting out. Again and again. She stopped counting at her fourth one as she fell asleep from exhaustion, the vibrating dildo deeply inserted in.

She awoke over an hour later, feeling calm and relaxed. Unconsciously, she was slowly rubbing her rubber covered fingers over her latex clad body, feeling the smoothness of the material, feeling its tightness.

She brings her hands to her face, almost disappointed to find… skin. She wished she was wearing the latex hood that came with the bike helmet many days ago. Then she startled. Was she developing an addiction to rubber? The first sign is that she couldn’t have sex without wearing it.

Too many difficult thoughts for now. She put fresh batteries in the vibrating dildo and a few minutes later, she was calling heaven again… and again.

She had to call in Judy to help her get out of the catsuit. Judy didn’t comment, only giggled. She knew something Karen didn’t…

In the evening, she had a calm walk around. She felt weird to be wearing only six inches heels. Quite a difference from wearing ballet boots. For this walk, she had chosen a blue PVC catsuit and a dark blue corset with a five inches waist reduction. She was almost feeling at home. Almost because with all the latex wearing in the past weeks, her skin desperately needed air and it was strongly suggested by the resort’s doctor that she hold back on rubber for at least a week.

The next morning, she squeezed herself in a four inches black satin overbust corset, put on very tight and extremely thick black PVC jeans, a blue PVC shirt with long sleeves and a scoop neck and to top it off, a clear plastic jacket, cut like a denim jacket, baring snug fitting sleeves and finally, platform sandals with a one inch platform and a seven inches high heel. She felt just great.

She was assigned to monitor a group that played shuffleboard and provide them with anything they would need, being refreshments, towels or a judge. It allowed her to sit down and wait but also to do a lot of movements, either from walking, grabbing or bending to pick up their empty glasses or kneel to decide which one had the winning hand. Their tournament lasted the whole day.

Compared to the last weeks, the following weeks were mostly uneventful although she wore latex on many occasions but her beloved ballet boots had disappeared from her closet. When she tried to get a pair, she was told that they were restricted for Level B and above.

Back to school… Again

The summer was over and her job at the resort. She reluctantly left her extreme heels, rubber and corset to cope with more “appropriate” tight jeans, lower (four inches) heels and leather jacket.

But the paycheck had been good. Very good in fact. Her school fees were well covered. Being really hooked on rubber, she began searching for high end garment, dress and catsuits, but also very good looking jeans that looked, from a distance, like glossy leather jeans.

She began to wear them. One day from time to time at first, to let fellow students get accustomed to seeing them, then more and more until it was three to four days a week. She had different leg cuts (skinny, flared, straight), and different colors, from the classic black to shades of blue, pink, red, white and even a gold pair. The only thing they shared was that they were extremely tight.

Then there was Carla. Of Spanish origin, she was somehow always draped in long legs pants, flat heels, long sleeves and a frilly blouse buttoned to her neck. It was as if she was trying to hide every speckle of skin she could. But she seemed also quite intrigued by Karen. She noticed her many times, almost hiding, staring at Karen. She was studying another field of medicine school but did share some classes with Karen.

One day, she came to Karen with a decided walk, as if someone saying “Okay, I plunge!”

“Hi Karen. Why do you skip a day from time to time from wearing your wonderful rubber jeans?” she asked out of the blue, which surprised Karen who was now used to twisted, turning around the point questions about her unusual outfits.

“Because my skin can’t cope with being sealed for this long from the air.”

“You mean that, at home, you wear more latex.”

“Yes…  how do you…?” asked Karen, puzzled that Carla seemed to know all the answers. Was she spying on her?

“I’m a latex fetishist myself, although I don’t have your guts to wear it in public.” She said, opening the buttoned neck of her frilly blouse, revealing a clear latex catsuit underneath it.

“Ah… I see.” Said Karen. “But since you know why, why did you ask?”

“Because I thought you might be interested in my experiences. I’m studying microbiology, but I also specialize in dermatology. I have a friend who’s a researcher in chemistry.”

“I… I don’t see your point.” Said Karen, shifting her weight from her left spiky leather ankle boot to the other one, slightly raising the free one on its heel.”

“What if I told you that I’ve been wearing this same catsuit, non-stop for the past four days and that I’m barely starting to experience the effects you know too well about.”

“Four days? Wow!… How?…”

“It’s a mix of medicated cream and altered rubber compound. But it’s not perfected yet and it does have some drawbacks.” She said.

“Like?” asked Karen, very much interested now.

“First of all, the cream tends to turn the skin bluish after one week, and the latex is unstable, starting to disintegrate after two weeks. So you see, we’re far from total success.”

“I see, but it’s promising. I assume you want my help? What can I do for you?” asked Karen, eyes sparkling, clicking her booted feet on the floor as she brought her legs close together, feeling at the same time, the rubber pinching her buns and her crotch.

“You’re studying to become a doctor. I know you are excellent in cellular biology classes. You’re also a latex fetish. All inputs are welcomed.”

“I’m in. For the good of the latex fetish community, we’ll find a way to spend a prolonged time sealed in rubber.” Said Karen, enthusiastic.

“Wow! You’re making it so… glamorous. Come, I’ll introduce you to Phil, my boyfriend and also the chemist I talked to you about.”

During the following month, they did a lot of experiments but made little progress. The skin was still becoming blue and the modified rubber seemed attacked by the cream. They never succeed at going longer than two weeks.

They needed more of everything: research facilities, research money and access to more material. They had none of it. Karen took care to hide the fact that she had a very well filled bank account. She didn’t want to waste it on the rubber research. She knew that they needed more than just money: they needed brains.

How About a Challenge for Starter?

She put on her beloved six inches leather pumps with a locking ankle strap, her dark blue latex jeans, a white long sleeves latex leotard and a tight fitting light blue latex jacket. A last look at the mirror and she headed for the boat to the resort island, ready to spend another summer of fun and adventures in leather, plastic, spandex but she hoped mostly for latex and PVC.

Little did she know that things would be somewhat different. As soon as she came in, she was picked by Kristy and was brought to another room where 6 men and women were already waiting, sitting around a conference table.

“Good, everybody is here,” said Kristy.

Then entered another woman, wearing a very tight fitting catsuit with straight cut legs. It was very similar to one of the catsuits Karen owned and wore during the past winter. It looked like a pair of jeans and a jacket while in fact, it was a complete catsuit.

“I’m presenting you Sasha.” Said Kristy. “She’s the Level B head manager. I’m leaving you under her responsibilities. See you later.”

Karen made an almost silent “oh” as well as the six others.

“Okay group. I need two more staff members for this summer. Problem is, you’re all equally qualified.” Began Sasha.

They looked at each other. Karen really wondered what she was doing there. The six others were experienced at level C, having been assigned there for more than one season.

“I know that you don’t have the same level of experience, but some do exhibit very strong abilities, and this is what the following tests are all about.” She said, producing a piece of paper. “First, some legal papers to read and sign, then a few aptitude tests. It should take most of the day to complete. Once the paperwork is done it will be revised. Once you’re cleared, please go to the changing room here on the left door and put on the latex clothes that are waiting for you.”

Karen filled the papers and read them carefully. Basically, it explained that the level B involves being permanently restrained, at some level against their will, and if they refused it to simply walk out, they would be reinstated to level C and resume their work. The form also asked to list any medical condition that may prevent them from being gagged, blinded or restrained into any specific manner.

Karen smiled. She had no problem with it at all, and she didn’t suffer from any kind of medical conditions. She had seen the Level B life the prior summer and was hot to the thought of living it.

One of the two men simply walked out. One of the women signaled her rejection from medical concerns. They were now five.

Karen went through the door to get her clothes. On the other side were eight changing booths. Five had names. Karen entered hers. She smiled as she saw a red rubber catsuit, complete attached feet, gloves and a hood having eyes and mouth holes, a red rubber corset and red knee high ballet boots.

She put everything on in record time and she was the first one to walk back to the conference room where everything looked as if there had been a storm: all the chairs were spread all over the place and even the flower pots were on the ground.

The three other women came back one by one, the last one having a hard time standing on her ballet boots. The man appeared wearing a tight catsuit, a corset and wedge platform boots baring a hidden four inches heel. He seemed quite at ease in all this.

“Okay, first test. Karen, since you’re the first that came in, you’ll go first. Put everything back in place.” Said Sasha taking a stopwatch. “Go!”

Karen went, picking the first chair and putting it back on its legs before placing close to the conference table. Then to the other one. For each chair, she had to twist, sometimes bend when the chair had been knocked off its legs, and put it back in place. She had to work fast and accurately to put back the phone on its table, then take the flowers from the floor and fix the pot to the hanging hook using one of the chair as a step ladder: not that easy on ballet boots. She completed the task in about two minutes. She walked back to her place, panting slightly.

“Very gook Karen. Now put everything back in total chaos.” Sais Sasha starting the stopwatch again.

Karen went, displacing chairs, putting them down, putting the phone on the floor, unhooking the flower pot and running to her place.

“Very good. Tanya… go!”

Tanya did very well, probably even better than Karen although she was panting a little more. Brad, the guy, did well and fast. His strength made picking the chairs easy. He was less panting than Karen when he was done. Kim had problems standing up on the ballet boots. Walking was another matter as well as picking up a heavy object like a chair. She did the work without complaining, but it took her the combined time of Karen, Tanya and Brad.

The last one, Suki, did it at the same time as the other fast runners.

“Okay. This was easy. Now let’s add a little challenge.” Said Sasha producing a box of cuffs and collars.

Each participant was equipped with ankle cuffs, linking their legs with a six inches chain, wrist cuffs, linking their wrist with another six inches chain but linking them to a wide collar with a chain so that their wrists would not go lower than their belly button. The final touch was with a head harness and a large ball gag.

The same test was concluded. While four of them completed it, Karen being the fastest, Suki being second, Brad third and Tanya fourth. Kim didn’t complete the task. She fell on the floor on the third chair and was never able to get back on her feet.

Kim finished last because she tripped on the phone line and it took a while to figure out a way to get back up, otherwise she would have been a close challenger to Karen.

Four left in the challenge. Serving trays with six glasses were brought in and their wrist and ankle chains were shortened by half. They had to pour the water in the glasses, take the tray and walk around the table, with all the fallen chairs and other obstacles still there, without any mishaps.

Off the start, Tanya tripped on the phone line. She was out. Between Brad, Suki and Karen, Brad was the fastest, followed by Suki and Karen who had filled her glasses too full and had dropped some of the water, translating at penalty time.

Only three left. One more to take out. Competition was fierce yet they were all looking at each other obviously laughing behind their gags. They were all having a ball with this competition.

The final test: endurance. They were brought to another room where treadmills were waiting. Since walking on ballet boots is far more stringent than on wedge platforms, Brad’s treadmill was set for him to run instead of walking like the girls. Their hobble chain was stretched back to one foot but their hands were tied in their back, elbows touching for the girls, and as far as they went for Brad.

And off they went. Karen was glad to have bought ballet boots of her own and spent most of her evenings in them. She was very well acquainted with the task ahead.

Soon they were panting and heavily sweating under their rubber skin. Karen was hot outside as well as inside. All these challenges while restrained were a real turn-on. She was watching Suki from the corner of her eye and apparently Suki was doing the same. At one point, they both began to laugh, losing their concentration and pace. They struggled to stay on the treadmill. Brad was enjoying watching the two girls challenge each other. After half an hour, the treadmills stopped without warning, sending all three of them on the floor. They were exhausted, panting and laughing.

The door opened and Sasha entered.

“I’m really sorry. Apparently the breaker gave up. Three treadmills on the same outlet was just too much. I have a wonderful problem here. You are all three equally qualified. Choosing the two of you that will come with me on Level B will not be easy. I would right out say to the loser that, on the next posting, he will be automatically accepted without further challenges. Okay, the winner are: Brad and…”

The door opened and a woman dressed in a very well cut leather pants and jacket outfit entered and walked directly to Sasha to whisper in her ear.

“Oh… Sorry… Karen, would you please come with me? I’ll be right back.” She said to Suki and Brad, still waiting bound and gagged.

Karen followed them back to the conference room, still with all the chairs laying everywhere. Karen’s gag was removed.

“Karen, My name is Samantha. I believe you have been acquainted with Mister M, right?” asked the leather woman.

“Yes I was, in the last two years I had been… chosen by Mister M to perform some tasks.” Politely answered Karen.

“Okay. Now is it true that you’ve been involved in some kind of research to be able to wear rubber for a prolonged period of time?”

“Yes, I added this note to my enrollment form, but the results were inconclusive. Does this present a problem?” inquired Karen, suddenly nervous.

“Apparently, Mister M was made aware of it and he would like to contribute to your research. In exchange, he would like you to be his specific subject for the whole summer, meaning in your case, the next 12 weeks. I believe you are aware of Mister M’s specifics?”

“Yes I’m aware of it and I would be delighted.”

“Very well then. I’ll have the proper forms for you in a few moments.” She said simply walking  out of the room. 

Okay then.” said Sasha. “ I’ll go tell my two remaining contestants that they are the chosen ones.”

“Err… Excuse me, Sasha.” Said Karen as the woman was about to leave the room. “Who was your first choice between me and Suki?”

“Unfortunately for both of you, you’ll never know” she said with a smile as she left.

Mysterious M’s Request.

Samantha came back. She came in with only one form, stating that she would conform to Mister M’s requests, without detailing what the requests were.

“I… I think there’s a few pages missing.” Said Karen.

“No, that’s all there is to it.”

“But I mean that… I’m signing him a blank check…”

“Pretty much yes. I was told that you already worked for Mister M.”

“Yes.” Answered Karen, “Twice.”

“And? Any regrets?” she said with that darn devilish smile.

Karen gave back her smile and signed. Whatever it was, she was sure to like it.

“Very well.” Said Samantha as soon as Karen had signed. “Please, stand up.”

Samantha tied Karen’s arms in her back, elbow touching and re-installed the head harness ball-gag and hobble chain. She then snapped a leash on her collar and tugged on it.

“Come. It’s time for you to get acquainted with your new summer job.”

She was led downstairs, then down a rather long corridor. She was led in something that looked like a large old wooden box. Her leash was fixed to a hanging ring, forcing her to stand up. Samantha left and closed two wood panels on Karen before leaving.

Then it began to move. It was a carriage of some sort with minimal suspension. The ride was bumpy and she reached the limit of her leash a few times. Nevertheless, the ride was interesting. It was the first time that she was bound like that, in a really helpless situation. And she liked it, feeling hot between the legs. She thought she heard strange sounds, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

After a couple of minutes, the carriage stopped and the doors were opened. Then she saw them and lights went on: horses. Her carriage had been pulled by a horse and she was next to a barn with a dozen horses.

A woman wearing a western jeans outfit but made out of latex, came to her and unhooked her from the O ring. Without a word, she pulled on the leash and Karen followed.

Walking on the mud with her ballet boots proved difficult and she hoped that it was not to be the official footwear. She was led to the back of the barn, in a clean concrete room.

She was directed to sit on the table. Her arms were unbound. The woman removed her ballet boots and came back with patent leather knee high boots with a horse’s hoof on them. Karen startled as she realized what would be going on: she would become a ponygirl!

The boots were laced tightly on her legs, then the leather corset was tightly wrapped around her waist, squishing it by at least five inches, she felt. Then a leather body harness with lots of chromed studs were tightly buckled on her. 

Her arms were tied again in her back, but in the reverse prayer position, wrists linked to the back ring of the collar.

Finally, her ball gag was removed, but the woman took another leather harness. This one had side shields for the eyes, fake leather horse’s ears and a horse bit gag.

“My name is Olga, but it won’t matter anyway. Anything to say, say it now.” She said. “You’re going to be gagged for the rest of your stay, and for the short time between the gags, speaking is not allowed. After all, horses don’t talk, don’t they?”

Karen began to realize what her summer would be like.

“Err… Be gentle?” she said, wide eyes.

The woman laughed as she fastened the horse harness on Karen’s head.

“Yes, I’ll be… gentle.” she said, pushing hard on the last word. “Oh, don’t worry, this rubber catsuit is only temporary. It will rip-off in no time here. You’ll get your regular one in two days. In the meantime, I’ll have to be extra careful, and you too. Okay, enough talking. Come.” She said as she pulled on Karen’s leash.

First Order of Business: Training

She was led outside where she saw a carousel with three horses already on it, and one free spoke. The horses were stopped and Karen was brought in under the free spoke. From the tip of the spoke was a large spring attached to a trapeze. From each end of the trapeze were hanging two chains. The snap links of the chains were hooked on the rings on the shoulder straps of Karen’s body harness. When Olga released the tension, Karen felt the spring strongly pull on her. Not enough to get her off the ground but enough to hold her if she falls.

The horses were made to move again and Karen had no other choice than to follow. Walking on the weird boots was a new experience but she was quick to get the hang of it although not enough for Olga who slapped her with a stiff crop cane.

“Higher!” she yelled. “Get your legs higher…. That’s it, lift it until you can’t no more!” she said as she gave Karen another crop cane hit.

Karen lifted her leg as high as the hobble chained allowed. It was an awkward walk with nothing natural. But encouraged by the frequent crop cane blows, she learned fast. About an hour later, Olga was satisfied and Karen was exhausted. She got unhooked from the carousel and brought to the barn where she was shown her box. Yes, she would live in the barn like any other horse. On the floor was a pile of hay to make a bed, and two bowls. For the moment, one was empty and the other was full of water.

“Here. Have a drink.” Said Olga fastening the leash high on the wall. “I’ll be back later to continue your training.”

Karen kneeled. She couldn’t use her hands to pick up the bowl and her mouth was partly blocked by the horse bit gag. She was really thirsty and she had only way to fix it: dip her face into the water bowl and suck in some through the side of her mouth.

It worked. When she raised her head, quenched, she was dripping wet, the water making small round droplets on her shiny covered thighs. She had no way to wipe her face but the cool water had been welcomed anyway.

Olga came back a moment later, grabbed Karen’s leash and dragged her outside but to the right of the carousel. There she saw a carriage and she was quick to imagine the outcome.

She was brought between the two pulling arms of the cart. The arms were attached to rings on the side of her body harness, at waist level. Reins were attached to the side of her head harness. Olga took place on the seat and with a sharp blow of the cane, instructed Karen to walk forward.

Karen pulled on the cart with all of her strength. It was not easy to get some momentum but once it was rolling, things were easier. Perhaps too easy for Olga who was quick to slap Karen’s butt with the crop cane.

“Come on! Have you already forgotten the last hour of training? Get your knees up…  Higher!… that’s it. Good girl.”

Now it was difficult. She had to pull forward, get her knee as high as possible, all this while maintaining balance on pony boots which almost put her feet in the pointed toe position. Not easy, but a blast anyway. With each raise of her leg, she could feel the tight rubber squeeze her thigh muscles. The corset was giving her some help through its rigidity. Her arms in the reverse prayer position were not helping but it was the first time she was tied this way and she liked it.

She was panting, and the rubber rubbing her crotch was not helping. She was getting aroused and quite excited but couldn’t release the steam. She was led to a racetrack and had to do about two laps at a relatively slow pace. She couldn’t walk fast while raising her legs like that.

The track being of dirt, it wasn’t long before her suit was covered with it. There was also a wet spot, producing quite thick mud. It too found a way to stick to her suit. Once the two laps were completed, her lower body was covered with mud and dirt spots.

Olga released her from the cart and pulled her toward a nearby concrete slab with a five feet high concrete wall. There, her leash was attached to a ring on the concrete wall as Olga took a large fire hose and began to spray Karen. The water was cold and was welcomed as she was getting quite hot in her black catsuit under the direct sun, doing quite exhausting exercises. She used the opportunity to drink a lot of it. She needed it.

It was actually the first time she was hosed down in rubber and she liked it, especially when Olga made the jet narrower and aimed at her crotch. She knew what she was doing as she stopped just when it became too much interesting for Karen.

“Very good, Karen.” She said as she led her back to her box in the barn. “Okay. That’s enough training for today…”

Yay! Thought Karen, but her joy was short lived.

“But ponygirls here are not always the pony. They have their share of work to do.” She said as she removed the harness and had her sit while she removed the pony boots to replace them with wedge platform boots. 

Basically, the shape of the boot was pretty much the same. Just the sole was narrower under the ball of the foot, and the heel was full. Her horse bit gag harness was replaced with a bright green ball gag harness. Her arms were untied from her back and the wrists linked in front of her. The leash was snapped on again and she was dragged to an adjacent barn where the real horses were kept. The leash was tied to a hanging steel cable running the length of the barn.

“I think you know what to do, Karen? The fork and shovel are on your left. Clean the boxes.” Said Olga before leaving.

Karen went to work. It wasn’t easy with her hands tied together. Ideally with this kind of tool, one should have one hand on the handle and the other one close to the big end. Needless to say that work progress was very slow. In an hour, she barely had half the box cleaned when Olga returned.

“Yeah, not easy, I know.” Answered Olga to Karen’s doggy look, showing her tied hands. “But the goal is not for you to work fast but to learn patience.”

Karen rolled her eyes. Yes she’ll learn patience with it all right. Olga left her to continue cleaning the box.  She came back over an hour later. By then, it was late in the afternoon.

“Come. It’s been enough for your first day.” She said as she led Karen back to her own box where the water bowl was waiting alongside another one filled with cereals.

She linked her leash to the top ring of the box and tied her arms in her back, elbows touching.

“Here. Have a nice meal. I’ll be back in an hour to prep you for the night. I know it’s early but I believe you’ll need a long night after a day like that.” Said Olga before removing her gag.

Karen knew she was right. She dipped her face in the cold water then tasted the cereals. It was an ordinary multi-grain with nuts and fruits cereals. Quite good actually although she had preferred it to be with milk instead of water, but she guessed that horses don’t get milk.

When she was full, although the corset limited what she could take in, she sat in the corner and waited. For the first time of the day, she had time to think about what she had gotten herself into. She realized that she was in for quite an ordeal and that this summer wouldn’t be a ride in the park… or actually it might be just that… Ponygirl style!

She had dozed off when Olga came in.

“Already tired. It was to be expected. The first days are rough but you’ll get the hang of it within the first week. Now you probably already know that you can’t stay in rubber too long. So you’re taken out of it for the night. Get up!” she said as she put down something blue wrapped in a thin plastic bag.

She removed the collar, harness, loosened the corset, removed the boots and helped Karen peel the rubber suit off her skin. Already it was white and wrinkly.

She ripped open the plastic bag and produced a dark blue wet-look spandex zentai catsuit. It had absolutely no openings. She gave it to Karen with the order to put it on.

Karen complied but startled at the size of it, then remembered that everything on the resort was extremely tight fitting, and in the case of this spandex suit, also extremely thick.

Getting the legs in was a struggle. She felt she was stretching it beyond its limits but the fabric held. The arms were also quite difficult to get on and the zipper left a very large gap in the back. With firm hands, Olga closed the zipper as Karen felt the thick spandex squeeze her stomach and her chest, pushing on her sensitive nipples. She was eager to have the night to herself where she could have some… fun.

The harness gag was removed and the hood zipped shut. She could barely see as the wet-look finish was semi-opaque. Even breathing was difficult. It was not completely airtight but close. She tried to stretch her jaw to talk but the hood was just too tight. She could barely wet her lips.

Of course, the collar was put back on as well as the corset, tightened fully closed. She welcomed its embrace: she simply loved being corseted. As for her feet, the ballet toe boots she had when she first came in were laced back on. Ankle cuffs were locked on her ankles linked directly together. Knee cuffs were added and linked together. Finally, to her dismay, her arms were cuffed in her back, wrists touching and elbows touching. The leash was snapped back to the collar: she would go nowhere.

“Have a good night, Karen.” Said Olga while leaving, closing and locking the box door.

Karen sat on the hay or rather let herself drop on it, having no means to slow down her fall. She was frustrated! She was hot as hell just being bound but she couldn’t touch herself… but she could rub herself!

In no time, she had rolled on her stomach. By squirming, she managed to make a small bump of hay at her crotch. While she was slowly rocking her hips up and down, her breasts got squeezed by her weight. She was softly moaning, welcoming the teasing, welcoming the increase in her pleasure, slowly. Very slowly… Too slowly.

In a nearby control room, Olga was watching a video monitor, looking at her newer ponygirl, trying to bring herself to climax, knowing that, trying as she might, will only bring more frustration as the wet-look suit was simply too slippery to achieve it. She smiled as she saw the ponygirl stomp with her crotch on the hay, trying to get it to fire, unsuccessfully.

Karen was grunting! This was even worse than the prior summer where she was forbidden any pleasure by the chastity kit. She could stimulate her, but she would never climax. She would always get the spoon of ice cream to her lips but will never be able to take it. She simply hoped that she was wrong, that with time, she would figure out a way. After all, it had only been the first night.

The Pony Suit

Two days later Olga opened the box door to an already awakened Karen, carrying a large box on a wheeled buggy.

“Good morning, Karen. Your pony suit is ready. Shall we?” she said with a sarcastic smile.

Karen underwent the removal of the restraints, boots, corsets and zentai suit to be handed a very heavy rubber suit.

She couldn’t believe how thick and heavy it was. And on the sides of the suit, down both legs and both arms, were red flaps with lacing to put it even tighter!

Karen really needed help to get the suit on. It was skin tight but also so thick that it barely stretched. It took them 20 minutes to get the suit on and zipped. But it was only the start. Olga then used all her strength to tighten the numerous laces, squeezing Karen even more. Apparently, the catsuit incorporated a built-in corset and it was laced down to crush her waist by at least five inches. The ponyboots were put on and also laced tightly before the ankle cuffs with their regular one foot chain were put in place. Her hands were tied at the sides of her waist on D rings incorporated to the corset, fixed to the steel boning.

Her head was maintained erected by the built-in high collar. She could barely bend. Twisting her upper body was out of the question. Getting her leg up needed a lot of effort. She felt totally impaired and useless. The head harness with the horse bit gag was finally added. Olga admired the result with a satisfied grin.

“Perfect fit.” She said.

Karen moaned.

“What? Do you feel it’s much too tight? Too thick? Too rigid?” she asked with a smile.

What to answer. If she answers “yes” she will be treated as weak, and if she answers “no” it could lead to more restraining… She played the truth and nodded “yes”.

“Ah! A true answer. I like that. I hate it when the girl nods no… and they hate me for adding even more restraints until they say yes… So I agree with you. It is too heavy, too tight and too rigid. But you’re probably familiar with military training exercises: they have you run with sandbags up your back. So when you run without any weight, you perform better because you’re used to working a lot more for the same result. This is the goal of this suit. Get comfy doing your tasks in it, and your regular suit will be a blast. If all goes well, you should be out of it in a few weeks. Enough talking now. Come.” She said as she gave a strong tug on the leash.

She was led to a real horse’s box. She had to clean it. She didn’t know which one was better, or worse for that matter: having her hands together in front of her, or by her waist. Needless to say, with either setup, it takes a long time to have the job done. Two hours later, she was taken from the box to the carousel where she had to sustain one hour of walking training. Already, getting her legs up was not easy with the chain. Now, with the suit so tight and rigid, it was almost impossible. She had to work very hard to get her leg up, the suit was so tight that it pinches behind the knee every time. It was crushing her lungs so much that she was desperately gasping for air. Once done, after she was unhooked from the spoke, she collapsed on the ground, unable to hold herself up. She fell like a plastic doll, legs springing straight and rigid once laying on the ground.

Olga pulled her back to her box where she was linked to the wall and left to recuperate.

The thing is that, although she was exhausted, she was hot as hell. The increased restriction excited her. Unfortunately, the suit was so thick that any kind of rubbing didn’t produce any results. She might as well be wearing the chastity belt and bra.

After her rest, Olga got Karen out again and fixed her to a cart and off she was for another ride of cart pulling. The stiff suit made it harder than before, but she had trained well and at the end of the ride, Olga appeared satisfied.

It was pretty much the routine. She would clean a box, then get a lot of training, either on the carousel or on the trail. On the trail, the weight of the cart was increased every day by adding bricks. 

Of course, Karen had a blast every time. The tight suit, the struggle, the sweat layer between the rubber suit and her skin, the pinching of her buns with each step, and then the frustration of not being able to let the steam out. All of this was very exciting and she liked her summer but after eight weeks, someone is okay to start asking: I’m doing this for what?

 She was seeing no future in this, no interest, and was beginning to regret cleaning the rooms and wait tables.

A Purpose

Karen had trained well and Olga was proud of her. She would now clean a box in half the time, whatever her restraints, and would sustain the cart pulling. That morning, Karen had a surprise. Instead of her training ponygirl rubber suit, Olga produced another one, much thinner, and with a gift.

As Karen began to put it on, she discovered two things: first it was very tight, but being rather thin, could cling to her body like a second skin without interfering much. The second is that there was something added on the suit, more precisely at the crotch. She had seen the beautiful pony tail hanging at the back, but didn’t know before it reached her buns, that there was a butt plug and a dildo attached to it.

She was eager to feel something between her legs, eager to have a go at it but apparently, it would be for later.

The suit was another neck entry catsuit. It was really clinging to her body like a second skin, revealing every feature, including her erect nipples. A leather corset was added: bright red with white trimmings. It crushed her waist by five inches, something she was used to and liked. 

The leather body harness was tightly fastened on her body. Pony boots were put on and the usual restraints applied. Her arms were tied in her back in the reverse prayer position. The head harness with the pony bit gag was different. This one had a large red feather on top of it. Olga then snapped a leash on her collar and pulled.

“Come. Thirty minutes on the carousel ought to be enough to warm your muscles.” She said as she attached Karen to the carousel and made it turn.

She was alone on it. She felt so light with the thin rubber suit that she had to control the force with which she was getting her legs up. And the intruders added something she had not trained for: a lot of pleasure. All seemed so easy. After half an hour, Olga unlinked her from the carousel and attached her to the front of a cart. But this one was not the training one she was used to. It was beautifully crafted with expensive woods and leather trims, and was surprisingly light compared with her brick loaded training cart..

Olga looked at the setup, made sure that everything was well tighten and secured, and she even buffed Karen’s suit! What the heck was going on?

Karen hadn’t visited much of the “B” area. She had been brought to the equestrian sector and had stayed there since then. But now, Olga was moving her elsewhere. That’s when she noticed that Olga was much… cleaner than usual. Her leather pants were shiny and not a speckle of dirt or horse manure could be seen anywhere. She had her… Sunday suit!

She heard people talk. Lots of people. Olga stopped and ordered Karen to stay put. She wasn’t alone. Seven other pony carts were waiting. They could all be differentiated by the color of their corset which matched the color of the long feather they had on their head and like Karen, were shiny and ready, standing proud. Apparently, Karen had also been chosen for whatever occasion this was. She ought to be proud too. She pumped her chest, made her back even straighter and looked straight in front of her, as if she was alone.

A few minutes later, Olga came back with a woman wearing a very expensive red leather dress over spiky heeled boots. She had long blond hair and although she was smiling, she appeared quite severe.

“So this is the ponygirl you talked to me about, Olga.”

“Yes Mistress Denise. She is my pride. I’m sure she will meet your expectations.”

“Really?” said the Mistress, raising her eyebrows. “We’ll see about that.”

Olga got close to Karen, as to fix her head harness.

“Remember all you learned, and obey all her commands, and only her commands. Forget that you can think of your own. I know you can do it. You’re a good girl.” Said Olga, smiling. For the first time, Karen felt warmth coming from her. She will do her honor.

“Okay, Karen. Forward!” Mistress Denise said while giving a slap with the reins.

Karen walked forward, moving without any jerking, giving Mistress Denise a smooth ride.

She followed the directives. A small pull on the right, and she turned, walked some more then stopped by closed doors. She heard someone calling on the microphone but couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he was presenting people. Suddenly, the door opened and she was made to slow run.

She couldn’t believe how easy it felt, how light the cart appeared. She was stunned by the cheers of the crowd. She was entering a small arena with seating all around. Karen and the other ponygirls, took place side by side on one end of the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome our ponygirls and their drivers!” said the announcer.

Karen saw one of the ponygirls quite nervous and almost taking off, her rider working hard to keep her in line. Karen stayed put and awaited orders.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve been waiting for: the chariot race: Ponygirl style!” said the announcer, under the crowd cheers.

The pony carts were aligned along the start-up line. Twenty laps was the goal to reach. And… BANG!

Karen felt a sharp blow of the reins and went quickly up to speed, taking the fourth position. She was seeing the other carts very close to her. She pulled back a little but was greeted by Mistress Denise sharp blow: she wanted her to follow closer.

There was an opening. Now would be a good time to get one place. Karen began to accelerate but was again pulled back by Mistress Denise. Then she remembered what Olga had told her: follow the commands.

She concentrated on that, trying not to see what was around her. Soon, the adrenaline of all this setup, the race, the crowd, began to go away and she could feel herself, her body. She could feel the dildos working, massaging her, giving this long awaited pleasure. She could feel the rubber of her suit, stretching over her working muscles, gliding on the small layer of sweat, rubbing, exciting her skin with every move.

 Soon, she wasn’t hearing anything anymore other than her pounding heart and frantic breathing. She could feel her arms, tightly bound in her back, forced into the reverse prayer position she loved. She could feel her shoulders move with each step, keeping her in balance but forcing the arms against the leather restraints. She could feel her thorax pressing against the tight corset. She could feel the leather creaking. She could feel her feet pounding hard on the soft soil, getting a grip, moving forward. She could feel the length of the chain, reaching its maximum and before it blocked her leg, began to move it in the other direction, not losing a single bit of momentum. She could feel every slight pull on her reins instructing her to go left, right, slow down or go faster. At one point, she realized that she had closed her eyes and were relying only on everything her BODY was feeling. Everything was like in slow motion. Leg up, dildo moving, feeling the chain, moving one shoulder forward, feeling the leather strap binding her arms strain against it, twist of the upper chest against the rigid corset, heart pounding, rubber pinching her thigh, tip of the hoof hitting the ground, all her weight on her toes, pushing hard, feeling it dig into the soil, getting a good grip, pushing hard, pulling the cart, her neck held straight by the collar, air whistling between her teeth and the rubber bit gag. She was in trance. Time had stopped.

There was a strong pull to stop. She opened her eyes. The sun and the sound of the crowd filled her head. She was disoriented, panting, looking for air. Mistress Denise had stepped off the cart and was walking to her. She looked straight in Karen’s eyes, took her head between her hands and gave her a nice kiss on the forehead. Was the race over? What happened? Slowly, her brain was getting re-connected to reality.

“…Incredible, ladies and gents. A new track record by 12 seconds! Hail to Mistress Denise and her wonderful ponygirl Karen!”

Karen saw Mistress Denise walking to Olga who was applauding as loud as she could with her leather gloved hands, smiling ear to ear. She was proud of Karen and it was showing in her eyes. Mistress Denise took Olga’s hand and gave her a strong handshake, obviously very pleased with the results. Olga walked to Karen to take care of her.

“Geesh! Wow! Oh wow, Karen. Finishing in the top 3 would have made me very proud, but finishing first and with a new track record? I’m speechless. You’re gifted Karen. You’re really gifted.”

Karen bowed slightly. That’s all he could do. She would have loved to talk to Olga, tell her what she felt during the race, but she was gagged and would remain for the next four weeks.

The Maze

She had trained hard and won big. Olga was very loose on her. Of course, she was back in her stiff training suit the moment she left the race track but she was back on her racing suit a few times, only for parades and show-offs. She had become a subject of pride for the whole Level B. Olga transmitted personal appreciation from Mister M. who said he was very pleased by her results.

Karen had no calendar to follow any time reference but she knew the summer was ending by the position of the sun. That morning, Olga had her moved to another building still wearing her spandex night catsuit and ballet boots. She was led to a small room, her hood was removed and her hands linked in front of her.

“One more honor for you, Karen, you’ve been chosen for the Maze. I can’t tell you a lot about it since part of the challenge is to discover it for yourself. Have a look at this map. You have two minutes.” She said as she gave her the map of a circular field. 

It was divided in bins by concentric walls. The content of each bin was indicated: concrete, sand, rock, gel, mud, water, etc. What does she have to do with it? There was obviously a starting and an ending point but what was the goal? Follow a specific path? Go through it directly? She tried to take mental notes of everything that was there but it was not easy, so many things were going through her mind.

Two minutes later, Olga was back and took away the map and put a large plastic sheet on the table, covered with pictures. It was divided in columns. The first one showed different sorts of gag: tape, standard ball gag, harness ball gag, ponygirl harness and blow up gag. The second column was showing outfits: thin rubber catsuit, rubber hobble dress, the rigid training catsuit and a blow-up catsuit. Karen had a smile while associating it the latest one with the water pit she saw on the map. All but the training catsuit were indicating that a corset would be added.

The third column was showing footwear: spiky five heels heel shoe, knee boot and thigh high. Same choice for platforms with a six inches heel. Then ankle, knee or thigh high pony boots, and finally the same choice of ballet boots.

Finally, the third column was suggesting arm binding: in front, elbow tie in the back, reverse prayer or by the sides of the waist.

Olga took away the choices card.

“Now Karen. From what you remember of the challenge map, you have to choose your setup.” She said as she put back the plastic sheet on the table. “Once a choice is made, there’s no turning back. Choose carefully.”

Karen was rather quick to choose and surprised Olga by the speed and her choices.

“Wow… impressive choice and not the ones we are used to seeing. We’ll see the results soon enough.”

One hour later, Karen was all suited up and was waiting, pacing back and forth in the small room. She could hear cheers through the walls. Obviously, someone was already performing in the maze. Finally, Olga came in.

“The random draw put you in the last one. It will be your turn in a few minutes. Come.”

She was led to a very small tube. Olga put her inside and closed the door. Not long after that, she felt the floor move down, when it stopped, people saw a woman, clad in a very stiff and thick ponygirl training suit, wearing pony boots and a horse bit gag, with her arms tied elbow touching in her back.

“Well ladies and gents, another surprise. It is already a surprise to see her here, being only her first year on level B. May I remind the audience that it usually takes 3 seasons in level B to qualify for the Maze but Karen here has broken so many records that she’s a record in herself!”

While the announcer was making the introductions, a woman clad in the light blue latex outfit, attached a snap-link to her collar. The link was holding a very large nautical type rope, apparently coiled around the center post of the maze, many feet above her head. Karen could recognize some of the content of the maze.

“Well, Karen, the rule is simple: take the path you want, but get to the exit as fast as you can… GO!”

Karen went to action but was blocked by the rope. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that she would have to walk around the center post to unwind the rope until she would be able to get to the exit.

The first part, the center of the smaller circle, was made of concrete. Rather easy and quick. Next was a wall, about three feet high, that was making the transition to a bin lined with round river stones. She backed to the wall, grabbed it with her hands and while turning, threw her legs overboard. In a second, she was on the rocks. Walking on them was not easy but the hoofs helped. Actually their shapes were well suited for it. “No wonder horses have hooves.” She said to herself.

The following bin was lined of soft, running, dry desert sand. Jumping the wall was easy and once again, the hoofs proved the right choice.

The next bin was as shiny as a mirror. The wall was also about 3ft high and she was quick to step over and quick to discover that the third bin, whatever it was, was as slippery as ice, and slightly slanted. Quick thinking, she crossed it as if she was wearing skates. The crowd cheers! Apparently nobody before her thought of that. Getting off of it proved another matter. This time, her foot slipped and she ended up kneeling on the slippery surface. It was going downward and at the lowest point, the wall was now four feet high. She tried to climb back but couldn’t. With her arms in her back, she had no way to grab a hold of it, but she could use the stiffness of her suit for it.

She jumped as high as she could toward the wall, landing with her chest barely resting on the side of the wall. Only the rigidity of the corset allowed her to stay there. She tried to get her legs up but fell back down. After the third failed attempt, she tried pushing with her feet against the wall, she managed to glide up. Now she was balancing on her stomach, held straight thanks to the rigid corset one more time. Now the next pit was mud. Very liquid mud. She let herself roll off the wall and she fell into the mud on her butt sinking into it down to her chest. The crowd cheered as she splashed brown running mud everywhere. She was quickly back on her feet, well knee deep in the mud. She struggled against it to reach the next wall. By then she had been panting hard for a long time! Her heart was beating hard and she knew it was only the beginning. The next box was actually very large and very long, filled with densely packed bushes. But by now, she had made a full turn. The bushes were farther down the maze. She had the choice of walking through them or going back up to the river stones. She chose the easy way, getting on the rocks then the sand. But then, she had to face a choice: the ice bin, which she had trouble getting out or going to the other bin, filled with something gray she didn’t know.

She had a try at it, jumping over the four feet wall. When she landed, it felt solid, then she slowly sank and the more she was trying to get out, the more she was sinking. Clay!!! Fortunately she had just a few feet to cross, but even this short distance, when you’re sinking in the thick mud created by clay, it’s not easy. Again, the hoofs proved a nice choice. Their large footprint gave her an advantage. But she wouldn’t have been able to cross the whole bin as easily as that.

She had two choices: go back to the ice or walk some stairs. She chose the stairs. Walking up, then down, then up, then down. 246 steps in all. The last stairs were ending high up. She had two choices: jump back in the mud or take down the steep slope, then back up again another steep slope, then down, then back up then down again. She didn’t know which one would be worse: the steep slopes or the mud. She tried the slopes. She wished she could use her arms as she had to climb them sitting down, getting her buns up first, then dragging her legs, and crawl down the feet first.

She was at the bushes field again, this one being two bins wide. She chose the easy way and walked back up to the river stones, then the sand but switched to the bushes before the clay. She was not that dumb. She had enough rope to go one more row down. She followed the bushes alongside the wall where they were less dense. The wall was four feet high. As she jumped to rest her chest on it, she discovered what is on this bin: walls and more walls. Ten walls to be exact, and some looked close to five feet high. There was another thing she also realized. She just hoped she was right.

She sat on the wall then tried to get her feet under her. Using incredible balance skills, she managed to get herself up on the edge of the wall. Yes! Apparently one thing the organizers of the challenge had overlooked is that one might walk on the edge of the walls dividing the bins. She just hoped her move was legal.

In no time, she walked the wall crossing the clay, stairs and the steep slopes bins, under the cheers of the crowd, celebrating her cleverness, but then her wishes turned sour as the walls became round. Somebody had foreseen this event.

She had the choice of going down to a bin full of loose tree branches, through the bushes or back up to the stones, etc, etc.

She chose the easy way, back to the stones, but since she knew she could walk on part of the wall, as soon as she was out of the sand bin, she was up on the walls, bypassing rocks, logs on water, plastic balls pool, and other very difficult challenges.

But for her last round trip, the one leading to the exit, she had no choices as the top of the walls were round. She had to walk through either a succession of ladders, which would prove suicidal with her hands in her back, or through big rocks, requiring almost rock climbing skills. She gave a try for the rocks.

She let herself down the bin. She surveyed the rock formation, trying to find a place to get a hold with her hoof. She did and she slowly climbed. She sometimes sat on the rock and climbed “backward” pushing herself up with her feet.

By now, the stiff corset and thick rubber suit were hurting. It was too rigid for this kind of exercise then again, the very fact that it was thick gave her some advantages. Once the rocks crossed she had to walk on something that felt like an under blown air mattress, where you sink without completely reaching the bottom. Of course, she fell right off the start having no way to keep her balance. Trying to get back up on your feet on such an unstable ground is very difficult, see impossible. She resorted to rolling on her side until she reached the next wall. That gave her a blast and she was close to an orgasm when her rolling stopped.

The last stretch, the last bin… covered wall to wall with grease! Exhausted, she let herself drop and roll into the lubricant. Trying as she might, she was simply unable to get up: no harm to get a hold of anything, rubber suit slippery with the lubricant and lubricant applied to the wall rendered her efforts useless until…

She had fallen on its side and felt the metal bracket of her pony bit gag hit the floor. Could it? She succeeded at kneeling. Yes, the wall was the right height. By stretching her back and neck, she was able to hook the steel bracket to the top of the wall. She would then use the head harness as a lever to pull herself up.

Carefully she tried. The crowd became silent, concentrating on the silly looking maneuver but very well aware that it might just work.

She was slowly rising when she lost her grip and fell back on the floor, panting, exhausted. She tried again, and again. She recomposed herself and tried for the seventh time by placing her feet differently. This time it seemed to work. Yes, she was high enough to grab the wall with her bound hands and she pulled herself against it.

Smiling under her gag, the crowd applauded at her exploit. Now she had 25 feet of greasy floor to cross. It was even more slippery than the ice bin. Well, nothing to lose.

She took a deep breath and off she went, skater’s style. A few feet before the end, she lost it, fell on her back and slipped to the exit sign on her back. She stayed there, closed her eyes and lost it. She was totally exhausted.

Another Farewell

She was back in her beloved tight thick blue rubber jeans, and a white PVC leotard under clear plastic raincoat and rain pants, ready to board the boat leaving the island.

“What’s with the rainwear?” asked Olga. “Aren’t you already wearing rubber?”

“Well, a customer once told me that my clothing was there to protect my skin and that rainwear was there to protect my clothing.”

“Yeah, not a bad way of thinking. Will I see you next year?”

“I hope not… I mean I hope I won’t be on level B.”

“Why not? You didn’t like your experience?”

“Oh yes, I liked it. I made a new record for the kart race and a new record for the Maze…”

“Yes, bypassing everybody’s thinking by walking on top of the walls. Very clever! So why?”

“I hope I will be on level A.” she said with sparks in her eyes.

“Level A? Usually, someone has to spend at least 3 years in level B before being considered for level A, and there’s a tough evaluation process to go through just to get to be able to apply for a job there.”

“Ever went?”

“No, too extreme for me. I like my horses.” Said Olga, smiling.

“Well, time for me to go.” Said Karen as the last ones were getting on board. See you around, Olga.”

“Take care of yourself, Karen.” She said, waving her goodbye.

Olga walked back to the main building where she met with Caroline, Kristy, Olga, Sasha and another woman who kept hidden in the shadows.

“What do you think? Is she ready for level A?” asked the mysterious woman.

“She has shown uncommon abilities.” Said Olga.

“She wears latex in her free time, at home and even at school” said Kristy.

“Yes but level A is still a huge step.” Said Olga.

“I suggest we turn up the heat on her next summer. No challenge, no competition, just hard work.” Said Kristy.

“Agreed.” Said the mysterious woman.

Back Home for Some Relaxation.

First time back in her apartment. She struggled with her leather gloved hands to unlock the door while carrying half a ton of mails, mainly junk mail, the results of 3 month of mail hold. Her apartment was smelling bad. She opened all the windows to refresh it somehow.

She began opening her mail. There was a letter from her parents, wishing her well and sending her a small check to help pay for her studies. It wasn’t a lot but she knew that they had worked hard for it. She put it aside. She had no intention to cash it.

She went to her computer. Again, her inbox was full, mainly of junk e-mail. Like all other users, she deleted them all without even reading any of them. She had a look at her bank account and she almost fell off her chair. The balance was huge! It meant two things: 1, she wouldn’t have any money stress for the year and 2, she would be able to renew her fetish wardrobe, which was pretty much her everyday wardrobe by now.

She rubbed her tightly encased thighs in the same rubber jeans she was wearing when she went back to the resort, three months earlier. The leather glove glided smoothly on the slick surface. Yes, she would be able to buy more, and especially renew her catsuit which had torn apart.

She fixed herself a quick dinner. She had been eating cereals for the past 12 weeks. Having a real meal was weird, although it was only a frozen dinner, not having the time to buy any groceries. To think of it, the University’s cafeteria food wasn’t that bad after all…

She watched some TV, especially the news channel to have some idea of what happened to the world during the last three months, then it was the bed.

For the first time in three months, she was sleeping in her underwear. For the first time in three months, she was sleeping unrestrained, un-gagged. For the first time in three months… she couldn’t sleep.

Could she be so hooked up on bondage?

She browsed in her closet and found an old spandex catsuit. She will have to do with it. She had no restraints but she remembered the landlord forgetting a roll of grey duct tape by the water heater. She picked it up and came back to her bed.

She put on her ballet boots and wrapped her ankles in four layers of duct tape. She did the same for her knees. Already, her breath was shaking at the feeling of being restrained. She couldn’t wrap her wrists together but she closed her left hand in a fist and taped it shut. She put a piece of tape over her mouth and took place on the bed. That was all she could do. Shopping was planned for the next day.

She didn’t sleep well. She wished she was more restrained.

By the end of the next day, a dozen boxes were piled in the kitchen, living room and the bedroom, and Karen was hard at work with power tools in all the rooms, mainly adding concealed rings on the floors, walls, but also on the frame of the bed. And she was doing all this work while wearing a deep purple very tight latex catsuit and patent leather platform boots with laces and buckled closure, two of her newly acquired items. Bending down was made difficult by the long rubber corset covering her body from the hips up to the neck. She loved the struggle. She would have bound her legs and arms together, but she needed the work done efficiently and rapidly. Binding herself would have been a blast but would have made the job too long.

By mid-evening, she was all done and it was time for some reward by watching the TV while eating some popcorn.

She took place in the reclining chair she had just modified and lowered the arm which would normally extend the legs rest but nothing seemed to happen. She bent down and snapped two chains coming from under the chair to her ankle cuffs. She reached over her shoulders and grabbed another chain she snapped to the back ring of her three inches wide leather collar. She added two cuffs over her knees and fed a chain between them. She then pulled the leg rest lever back on the closed position and her feet were pulled toward the chair as well as her neck pulled backward. She couldn’t move much now. She linked her wrists together and put the bowl of popcorn on her lap then took the chain from her knee cuffs and fed it through her wrists cuffs. With a satisfied smile, she closed the padlock.

There. She was locked in front of the TV, forced to watch whatever movie was about to begin on pay-tv as she left the remote out of reach. She looked up on the ceiling where a black box could be seen. It was a timed release mechanism. She set it up so that it would open when the movie would be over, releasing the release key.

The movie began and she dipped her bound hands in the popcorn bowl. She had to pull as hard as she could on her neck chain and pull on her wrist chain to be able to reach her mouth. She figured that the workout needed to eat the popcorn would compensate for the food intake.

Fortunately for her, the movie was interesting, but she was also getting hot as hell, bound as she was. She put aside the popcorn bowl and began to fondle at her crotch, getting herself quite aroused. But her setup was devilish. The wrist chain, going through both knee cuffs, was playing against her pleasure. To increase it, she had to open her thighs, getting her knees farther apart. But by doing so, she was increasing one of the sides of the triangle made by the linking chain, pulling her arms away from her crotch. The only way she could reach her crotch was with her knees closed. The only way to trigger an orgasm was to open her knees, which drew her fingers away.

By the end of the movie, she was hot as hell and frustrated. She couldn’t wait for the darn timed box to release the key. Finally, it did and the key dropped, hanging by a small rope. She frantically reached for it and removed the lock from her wrists, opening her legs wide and immediately playing with her fingers on her burning hot crotch. Within minutes, she exploded, still bound on the chair.

Panting, she let her bound wrists rest on her thighs, her pussy still throbbing of pleasure.

She awakened in the middle of the night, surprised she had fallen asleep bound in the chair. She pushed the leg rest arm and unhooked her collar and ankle cuffs from the chair, walked to her bedroom like a zombie and collapsed on the bed. She had enough strength to link a chain from the foot bed to her ankle cuffs, and another one from the headboard to her collar before falling asleep.

She woke up rested and aroused! Wow she was really hooked. But she had to put school in her mind now.

Back to School, Back to the Research

As usual, she drew attention with her fashion statements. It was not every student who was wearing tight PVC jeans and high heels to a surgery class. She even wore latex gloves for most of the time, stating that she was practicing working with them, so she would be more accurate when the real time comes.

All her free time was spent with Carla and Phil, developing the new rubber and cream, but they lacked research funding. They needed more instruments and couldn’t use the ones provided by the University since it was a personal research project.

It was near the end of the school year when Carla entered their small chemistry lab with a wide smile.

“What’s with the smile?” asked Phil.

“I just had a phone call. A private investor would like to invest in our research. He will provide a lab with all the necessary equipment. We ask, he provides. Isn’t it great?”

“What? Who? Who is this investor?” asked Phil “And how did he learn about our research?”

“I don’t know. She said that he heard about our research, that he’s looking for long term latex wear and that he had seen some of our data and would like to participate.”

“Say what?” said Karen. “She, he… What the heck are you talking about?”

“Sorry, I’m just too excited. Her lawyer contacted me. Brenda or Lynda, I don’t remember. She said that he had a well equipped laboratory out in the sea on a private island and he would like us to spend the summer there. And we’ll get paid for it.”

“Wow, fantastic.” Said Phil.

“Err… Is it a Mister M?” asked Karen with a puzzled look.

“No… I mean, she never named him, she always talked about Him, the Investor, and so forth. She never gave any name. Why, do you feel it’s some kind of joke?

“No.” said Karen. “I have very positive feelings about this. But I don’t know if I will be with you, I mean I still have my job at the resort and…”

“Yes, well, I have bad news for you. Lynda or Brenda, I don’t remember, told me that only myself and Phil were considered for the research, saying that they had their own medical staff.”

“Ah… well, good luck to you and I will eagerly await the results next fall.” Said Karen.

They were too excited to analyze the latest data. They had a nice lunch and they parted afterward. The next weeks were filled with exams and tests. Karen’s fashion might have been far from “proper” for a doctor to be, but her exam notes proved that she was very smart and heading for being one of the top students of the graduation.

Assigned Duties

As she boarded the boat to the resort, Karen had a strong feeling that Mister M was behind all this. Little did she know how deeply she would be involved in the research herself.

She was greeted by Sasha upon her arrival who showed her quarters on the level B.

“As far as I know, you’ll be affected to Level B for the whole summer.” Said Sasha.

“Ah.” Said Karen, somewhat disappointed. “Will I see… Olga?”

“It could happen, but you’re not scheduled to be a ponygirl this year. You did a heck of a job last year. Going back there again will be boring for you, I’m sure. No, we have much more interesting jobs here for you. You start tomorrow actually. You’re gonna be on watch at the beach.”

“Oh, great! I haven’t dipped my feet in salt water for quite a while.” Said Karen. “What should I wear?”

“White catsuit, corset, ballet boots. Put on all the cuffs and your harness gag.” Said Sasha.

“Why do I have the feeling I won’t be touching the water much?” asked Karen.

Sasha didn’t answer and left with a smile.

The next morning, Karen found the white rubber catsuit in her closet. It had attached feet and gloves. As expected, it was extremely tight and not easy to put on. The corset was white with red trimmings. She put on the ballet boots and added the mandatory leather cuffs for Level B at elbows, wrists, knees and ankles. She added a three inches wide leather collar and put on her harness ball gag, she fastened tightly. She loved the feeling of the ball being forced deep in her mouth.

She walked to the beach, feeling the tight rubber massage her body along the way. The sun was already shining and hitting hard on her rubber confinement, making her sweat. She was glad the suit wasn’t black, otherwise she would be cooking in her own juice by the end of the day.

There she met Mac, the handsome lifeguard. He was wearing an orange thin and tight latex catsuit, revealing all his features, particularly his huge manhood. He wasn’t wearing any restraints: his job was to save lives. He wasn’t about to be restrained in any manner.

“Hello Karen.” He said approaching her bare footed on the soft sand while Karen was struggling as her pointed feet were sinking in. Ballet boots were not the ideal footwear for beach sand.

“mffmo” mumbled Karen through her gag.

“Come I’ll set you up.” He said, directing her to the base of a mast where there was a small platform with a rod.

He had her step on the steel platform, placing the rod between her legs. The rod had been apparently shaped to follow one’s body shape as it was between the legs, then were bending backward around the buns, then back in for the waist before going away following the spine, stopping at the neck. He linked her ankles cuffs to the rod, then her knee cuffs. He produced a steel band he put around Karen’s corseted waist but was also hooked to the rod and tightened it with a ratchet. One more steel band was added on her upper chest and finally her collar was linked to the rod. She couldn’t fell from it. Her elbows were drawn together and locked as her wrists were tied to rings on the waist steel belt. He finally put a pair of tinted goggles over her eyes.

“There you’re all set. Ready to go up?”

“Mfffeess….Waff ffoo Iff foo?”

“What do you do? Oh, silly me. You look up for sharks. If you spot one, you yell.” He said before activating the lifting mechanism which winched Karen up the mast.

“Mmffeell? Mmffoowwff?” she tried to ask, but he didn’t listen to her. She quickly rose up to the top of the mast where she slowly began to balance on the offshore wind.

She could do nothing. She couldn’t move. All she could do is look around, and if she saw a shark,  yell… Yeah, right, she mumbled through her gag. 

She was left there for eight hours, under the harsh sun, swearing like a pig. She couldn’t move much, but every little move she could do was wonderful as she felt her latex catsuit glide against her skin through the sweat layer. She tied to move her thighs, tried to create any kind of rubbing at her crotch. She was hot just by being bound. With every breath, she could feel her nipples being squished against her tight rubber cocoon. She chewed on her gag, trying to move her head. Her struggle only made her balance more, and each balancing proved to be a blast, but never enough to experience anything higher. She even fell asleep at one point. She could do nothing more after all.

Finally, she was taken down. Mac unlinked her, made sure she was all right and sent her “home” but not before locking her arms in her back and her ankles with a very short hobble chain.

  Karen struggled to get out of the soft sand and walk to her room. She managed to work the door handle and collapsed on the bed. Damn she was hot! She wanted release, but her arms were tied in her back. She rolled on her stomach, but couldn’t rub herself enough to trigger the orgasm she deeply wanted.

“I hope I’m not looking for another summer of frustration.” She thought and, exhausted, fell asleep.

She awakened in the morning as Sasha entered the room.

“What? Not ready for your day’s work?”

Karen, still dizzy, struggled to get up, only to realize that she was still bound and gagged. She mumbled.

“Oh dear! Don’t tell me nobody came to release you. It must have been an awful night.”

Karen couldn’t honestly say yes since she didn’t recall anything from the night. She actually slept like a baby although bound, corseted and gagged. Deep inside, she smiled. She was glad she could sleep like that.

Sasha released her. Her full day under the sun had made her sweat a lot and the moisture had been trapped in her suit. Her skin showed signs as if she had been underwater for a whole day. It was whitish and wrinkled.

“Damn!” said Karen. “If only there could be a way not to suffer this kind of after-effects.” She said as she walked to the shower.

“As far as I know, it hasn’t been invented yet.” Said Sasha.

“I’m sure someone will come up with something.” Said Karen, not wanting to reveal that she and a few friends were working toward exactly that.

The short time in the shower and then to grab a bite was enough for the skin to return to a rather normal state.

“Okay, what’s my duty today?” asked Karen.

“Quite boring actually. You will have to clean the walkways of the square.” Said Sasha.

Karen had a flashback dating two years earlier, when she was bound, mummified to a post in the square while the two Ladies she was accompanied on a bike ride spent some time in a coffee shop. She remembered seeing someone clad in rubber, tied, swiping the sidewalk.

“I have your outfit here.” Said Sasha, producing a pile of kaki rubber and a pair black patent leather knee high platform boots covered with buckles.

The first surprise was that she had to pull shoulder length gloves and thigh high stockings before putting the catsuit on. Then, another surprise when she began to pull on the catsuit itself: the crotch had two attached huge dildos. This promised to be fun.

The suit wasn’t tight, it was extra-tight and extra-thick. So thick that it wasn’t stretching much, forcing the wrists and ankles to have zippers. Sasha explained that doing this work involved frequent rubbing against building walls and that a thin standard suit would rip open in no time.

Karen felt her waist being crushed as the back zipper was pulled up and she also felt her breasts being squeezed against tiny spikes located deep within the molded breasts cups of the catsuit. The rubber was so constricting that she felt her waist was squished at least three inches just by the suit. The black and red rubber corset had the small job of squishing it only another two inches.

The boots were put on, laced tightly then buckled up. Black and red leather cuffs were applied with a strap going under the heel, securing the boot in place, making it impossible to remove. A wide black and red leather collar was applied as well to her neck and of course, locked.

A thick kaki latex hood with tinted lenses was added. This one included a blow-up gag, a first one for Karen. She placed the loose sack in her mouth, waiting with anticipation for its inflation, which came fast… and hard. Her eyes opened more and more as she felt the rubber fill her mouth, pushing her tongue down, stretching her cheeks outward against the already thick rubber of the hood. She moaned to indicate that she had enough  but it didn’t stop Sasha who continued. Instinctively, Karen grabbed Sasha’s hand. 

Sasha stopped, took steel cuffs and tied Karen’s arms in her back, and went back to pumping the gag, much to Karen’s dismay. When she felt her mouth was about to explode, Sasha stopped.

“Usually, that’s where we stop, but because you tried to stop me, here’s for your punishment.” She said as she gave it one more full pump squeeze.

But things were heading for the worse as Karen then learned that the hood, although tight, had been put-on, but the zipper not pulled down! She felt it squeeze her head even more and especially her mouth already filled to its maximum. She would remember her lesson.

The pump was taken off. Karen could breathe through her nose, and she was doing it very loudly, fighting against the tight rubber suit compressing her chest and the five inches reducing corset squishing her waist. She was fighting hard against a sense of panic at her full mouth.

Sasha snapped a leash to Karen’s collar and dragged her along. Outside her room one of those electric golf cart was waiting. She headed for the passenger seat but Sasha pulled on the leach, leading her to the back of it where she noticed an obviously shaped frame.

She got on it, spreading her legs to each corner of the back trunk where Sasha linked her ankle cuffs with snaps permanently fixed to the kart. Sasha then adjusted a pole so it would reach at the right level for the back of her collar and attached another snap link to it. Finally, she adjusted a crotch rod tightly against her crotch so she could… sit. It was all that was holding Karen to the kart. Her hands were still cuffed in her back.

Even though the kart rolled off smoothly, Karen was pulled against her restraints, pulling on her neck. She straightened herself to compensate. She tried to sit on the bar but with the bumpy ride, only made matter worse… or better, depending on one’s point of view. But for now, for Karen, it was worse. She was already trying to cope with her tight and thick suit and especially her fully gagged mouth; she wasn’t in the mood for a bumpy ride.

The drive took a long time. Much too long to Karen’s judgment, especially when she realized that they had been taking the same small road for the fourth time! Sasha was toying with her. She would have to find a way to get some revenge.

Finally, she stopped at the square and unlinked Karen from her traveling stand. She attached a stainless steel rod one foot long between her ankles and presented her a broom with large stainless steel cuffs covering pretty much all of her lower arm, and ending in a ball. The cuffs had a swivel joint at the balls linked to a broom handle.

Karen’s hands were forced into a closed fist and inserter into the steel cuff opened in two halves. The inside was lined with neoprene. When the cuff was closed back, Sasha used an electric screwdriver to fasten it in place, compressing the neoprene against Karen’s arm and hand. Once fully closed a fingernail wouldn’t have enough space to grow.

“Now, push all the dust with your broom from the sidewalk down on the side of the sidewalk, on the street, then from the street, push it against the side of the sidewalk. When all is done, I’ll come and change your tool so you can pick it up and dispose of it. Have a nice day!” said Sasha while leaving on her golf cart.

Karen was standing there, trying to assimilate everything, from her tight catsuit, to the corset, to the incredibly tight hood and the overfilling blow-up gag, to the restraints and the broom.

Her right fist was attached to the tip of the broom while her left one was attached to the side of it. The arms were in the right position to swipe and since the joints were swivel, working the broom revealed to be rather easy. It’s when she began to walk forward and then backward while sweeping that the devil side of the setup made itself visible: the dildos! With her legs forced out, she was getting excited, stimulated, but to orgasm, she would have to close her legs! Damn!!! Another day of total frustration ahead of her!

But it was only the first half of it. All this sweeping created piles of dust that had to be removed. Sasha came back in the afternoon to change Karen’s setup. She replaced the long broom with a small one on her right hand, and a dust pan on her left hand, linking them with a one foot steel bar. She had to kneel, get the dust on the pan and put it down on the trashcan, the only one available was fixed to the lamp post. Her farthest dust pile was about 200ft away, forcing her to hobble all along, back and forth, for the rest of the day.

It made her understand the abrasive steps requiring the thick rubber catsuit, but she wondered why the whole suit was made this thick when simple knee pads would have suffice. Then as she fought, trying to trigger an orgasm, hobbling toward the trash can, feeling the tight rubber pinch her buns, made her struggle to keep her arm bent so not to send the dust on the ground, her neck stiff and struggling to breathing, and enjoying all of it, the answer was obvious.

Finally, as the sun was setting down, Sasha came back, strapped her to the back of the electric kart and drove her home, directly this time, revealing that she had been merely one street off her room. Karen was hot as hell and was eager to be released and finally have a much needed one. Sasha helped her off the transport rack, tied a leash on her collar and dragged her to the room, released the leash and went on.

Karen tried to yell, to attract her attention. She was still wearing everything and her arms were tied in her back with steel cuffs, but Sasha didn’t turn around, closing Karen’s door.

Of course. There must be some kind of prank. The keys should be here somewhere, thought Karen. She went on looking for them, realizing that the tinted lenses were great for outdoor work, but pure shit indoor. She was barely seeing when she spotted something bright behind the sofa: yes, it was a key ring.

Struggling, panting, she managed to kneel behind the sofa and use her shoulder to push it off the wall. She turned on her back and crawled over the key ring, working hard to grab it with her fingers, all this time fighting the corset, feeling the tight rubber suit move over her sweat layer. It only succeeded in making her hotter. She grabbed the keys and crawled back out. 

All this struggle had pushed the sofa on the living room table, knocking off a can of air freshener that was on it, which tumbled down on the floor. Karen needed to roll on her stomach to work the keys on her ankle cuffs. She gave herself a swing and rolled, directly over the freshener can, landing with it on her crotch. She screamed as it pushed hard her dildos in. As she tried to roll off of it, it only made the dildos move in and out, creating the sensation she was wishing for since early in the morning. She dropped the keys, her brain already flying away. A few more strokes and she exploded! Compared to this, a nuclear bomb was a balloon popping. She was shaking from every part of her body as the orgasm traveled through it with great power, releasing days of accumulated frustration. The heavy gag muffled everything from outside but nothing from inside her mind where she thought that her head was going to melt down.

The pleasure waves traveled her body for over five minutes before winding down, leaving her panting, exhausted and passing out.

She woke up many hours later. It was still dark, then again she was still seeing through dark lenses. It took her some time to figure out where she was and especially, who she was as her brain was a complete mess. She remembered the keys and moaned as she rolled off the can to retrieve them, still getting excited. She managed to remove her cuffs, then used the keys to remove the rest of her garments. Her skin was showing the effects of the rubber sealing. She took a shower and immediately collapsed on the bed until the doorbell rang the next morning, ready to take her to her next assignment.

Test Subject

In the next weeks, she alternated between cleaning the streets and watching the beach, each time ending with a struggle back home to free herself, each time enjoying it, and each time finding it difficult to get out of the rubber to relief her skin. She wished she could stay in rubber all the time.

One morning, Sasha came to see her but she only had a PVC catsuit with her and five inches spiky heels pumps.

“What’s with the suit?”

“It’s only to get you around. You are requested for some testing.” She said.

She was tied to the golf cart and brought to a building she never saw before. It looked like an administration building of some sort, but somewhat secret.

“Here” said Sasha once she had been unrestrained from the rack of the golf cart, but her hands cuffed in her back and of course, gagged with a single strap red ballgag. “Go through this door. They will take care of you. I’ll pick you up when you’ll be done.” She said, leaving.

Karen walked inside where she was greeted by two women she never met before. Both were wearing white rubber catsuits with red crossed on the shoulders. Their heads were completely covered except for their eyes and mouth. One was standing on lace-up platform knee-high boots and the other on thigh high, six inches spiky pull-on boots, both of white patent leather.

The one with spiky heels put two locking leather cuffs on Karen’s ankles and linked them with a short 10 inches chain. The one with platform boots applied a white leather collar around Karen’s neck, one with a tag name attached to it, indicating “Karen”. She fastened so tightly around her neck that she had difficulties to swallow. She then attached a leash and pulled on it, dragging Karen along, hobbling on her short chain.

She was led to another room, all white tiled, where an examination table was set up. There, a woman wearing a red catsuit with a white cross on her shoulders smiled, at least that’s what Karen assumed she was doing since her face was hidden by a red hood and a red/white rubber surgical mask.

“Hello Karen. Nice of you to come.”

Karen mumbled in her gag. As if she had a choice.

“You may not know it but we’re researching being able to wear latex for prolonged periods of time. We’ve made some interesting progress recently and we’re ready to test the results. We were told that you would volunteer for such a test. Is that true?”

“Participating in research for extending the wearing of rubber? Anytime!” Thought Karen, nodding an aggressive YES.

“The conditions of the test also include that you have to be totally hairless, meaning that you will have your head shaved. Still okay?”

Karen thought for an instant about her thick and long curled brown hairs, but once inside a rubber cocoon, she couldn’t give a damn. She nodded that she was okay with it.

“Very well then. Please, take off your clothes.” Said the doctor as the nurse removed her cuffs and helped her get rid of all her gears, including the gag, then took her on the exam table where she was secured by numerous rubber straps.

There she was intubated, providing for feeding and breathing as well as bodily functions. And she was shaved and cleaned and a hair growth inhibitor was applied, with the assurance that they had a way to reverse its effect. Then, a pitch black catsuit was produced, as shiny and as black as liquid tar. She never saw anything like that before. It was complete with feet, hands and hood. Lubricant was poured in the suit and sloshed around before Karen was freed from the preparation table and instructed to get in. She was shaking in anticipation at the thought of wearing this thing for an extended time. The suit was stretchy but at the same time, restricting, like a strong elastic band but which could be stretched twice its length. She liked the pressure it created on her body. She felt it squeeze her stomach as the neck entry suit was pulled up, pushing her breasts into the molded bra. A loose rubber bag in the shape of a donut was fed around her feeding tube going in her mouth then the hood was pulled over her head, revealing that it had only tiny eye holes behind dark lenses. It was also zipperless, and tightened heavily around her head.

A pump was attached to a tube at the mouth and operated. She felt and welcomed the sensation of her mouth being filled with a rubber bag, and with the intubing, the pressure was not affecting her breathing. She loved it.

A rubber corset was produced, apparently made out of the same material. It was a very long corset, covering her from the hips to the armpits and carried a five inches reduction. She was glad there was a corset with this outfit as, although the rubber was tight, there was nothing to compare to a well fitted, extremely tight and constricting corset.

Knee high rubber ballet boots, made again with the same material, were laced on her legs. She was brought to an adjacent room, this one dark with lots of red satin and accents. It looked like a dungeon! There she was led to an X frame where she was secured with lots of leather straps, drawn to the last possible notch, securing her in place in total immobility. Hoses were plugged on her life support tubes. She felt fresh air being pump in, some water filled her stomach. She knew she would experience an enema in the coming hours. The thought made her hot.

She had absolutely no track of time. She was left alone, tied to the cross, nothing going on around her. She was alone with her thoughts, her wild, vivid, horny, hot thoughts. She fought her bonds, not to get free, but to stimulate herself, getting even hornier, more aroused. She succeeded but she also realized that she would never be able to release all this pressure of pleasure, not until someone unties her.

How long had it been? One day? Two days? One week? She didn’t know. She had no point of reference. The lighting was always the same. She had seen nobody. Her feeding and cleaning appeared to be performed on an irregular basis. Everything was done so she would get completely lost. It worked. It worked at making her all mixed up, and it worked at making her hotter than hell, enjoying every minute of it, squirming in her bonds until exhaustion before sleeping through.

Then, the red doctor and the white nurses came back and removed her from the frame, helping her put weight back on her feet. It felt weird. Her hands were drawn in her back and linked together as well as her ankles linked with the small hobble chain, as if she was in any state of mind, or physical shape, to run away. She was then led to the exam table where she was tied back on it. The suit was removed. She shivered at the feeling of the cool air on it. She felt the sweat drain away and figured that her skin would be in a very bad shape, like if she had spent the last few days in a pool… or was it the last few hours, or the last few weeks?

All the tubing was removed, which felt weird. A tight spandex catsuit was handed to her. It was greenish like all hospital garments but as she put it on, she smiled a the thought that no regular hospital would carry this kind of “hospital gown”

Green wedge platform sandals were provided. Her hands were locked in her back and a green leather collar was tightly wrapped around her neck. She was led to an adjacent room, a classic looking hospital room, instead that the bed featured rubber sheets and a lots of D rings. A long chain, attached to the wall over her bed, was linked to her collar. It allowed her to go pretty much all around but forbid her to leave the room.

Karen was about to ask a question but the nurse swiftly blocked her mouth with what from the exterior would look like a classic surgical mask, but from the inside, it was carrying a large penis shape gag and was fastened with small leather straps instead of the usual cotton strings.

Her skin’s condition was not as bad as she thought. She figured that the results were somewhat promising. Just extending any rubber confinement from 24 to 48 hours was an awesome leap.

But for the moment, there was just one thing on her mind. She struggled with her cuffed hands and managed to take one pillow and put it in the middle of the bed. She then laid down over it, on her stomach. It was the only way she would be able to get any kind of rubbing on her crotch, but without any dildo, it didn’t produce much. Frustration only grew larger.

What she figured was a few hours later, the red doctor entered the room and examined her skin, lowering the front zipper of the catsuit. She had an appreciative nod.

“Everything checks out, Karen. You can go home. I’ll call Sasha.” Said the doctor before leaving.

Karen waited in her room. Attached to the wall chain, she had no other choice. Finally Sasha arrived, smiling. She dragged Karen to the cart where she was tied up as usual and drove to her room where she was left alone, again having to find the keys for the cuffs. She found them on top of the television set, too high for her to reach it with her arms tied. She managed to grab a pole, throwing the keys on the ground and then laying down besides them to finally unlock the cuffs.

Once uncuffed, she was quick to put her fingers at her crotch. Heaven was just a few strokes away.

Karen in Wonderl-A-nd

She never heard of the rubber confinement results. She asked questions about it but she never got any answers. She had been able to piece together that she had been confined for between four and seven days. But it could have been more… or less. She would be in the void for the rest of the summer, which ended up alternating between watching the beach and cleaning the streets.

The summer was ending. In the time she had to think, hanging high over the beach, she focused on the next year of medical school ahead, her last year, thinking that she might then not be eligible for a student job and would never experience level A. But there was a surprise waiting for her during her last week at the resort.

“Karen.” Said Sasha one morning as she was coming to get Karen, I believe you would be interested in having a peek at Level A. Am I right?”

Karen went wide eyes, heart pounding with anticipation.

“I’d love to!” she said.

“Very well, you have your chance, but the rules are quite strict for regulars and even worse for visitors.”

“Anything. I would do anything.” Eagerly said Karen.

“Very well then. Just put on a PVC catsuit and I’ll get you to the Level A Terminal.

Wearing a red PVC catsuit, Karen was secured to the frame of the golf cart and drove to a building she never noticed before. It was hidden in the forest. She was led inside, pulled by Sasha with a leash and given to another woman named Petra.

“Hello Karen. Well, I’ll be brief. The rules at Level A are simple: absolutely no skin, pointed boots, not ballet, pointed boots and constant restraining, including a gag. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, Madam.” Clearly answered Karen.

She was immediately led to another room where she was intubated and fitted with a very tight and thick black rubber catsuit, very similar to the one she had tested a few weeks earlier. It had an attached hood, hands and feet. Her ears were plugged with rubber paste to render her deaf. Since she was only a visitor, she was in no way allowed to hear anything. The hood had very dark, almost black lenses to lower her visibility. The tightest corset she ever felt was wrapped around her. She felt it so crushing she assumed it was over six inches of compression and was as stiff as if it was totally made of steel, covering her from the hips to the armpits.

Leather pointed boots were laced on her feet. Since she was so used to ballet boots, those were merely a little stretch. Her hands were tied in the reverse prayer position, her wrists linked to the back ring of her heavy leather posture collar and straps wrapped around her arms to squish them furthermore. She couldn’t move them at all and loved the sensation of total helplessness.

Cuffs were added at the knees and ankles and linked with very short chains forcing her to hobble along. Then she was led to a platform and put in the middle of it. Then a mechanical arm approached her, pulling a thin sheet of plastic. As the platform began to rotate, the arm applied the plastic sheet on her, stretching it, wrapping in eight unyielding layers of pallet wrap. Now she was totally immobile, but the feeling of being mummified was a pure blast she enjoyed very much.

She was  carried to a vertical black steel box with a rather soft interior. There, straps held her securely to the back of the box so that she couldn’t move. Upon closing the cover, a pipe going through the cover was linked to her breathing tube. She felt hard clanks noise as the clips of the box were fastened.

She then felt the space in the box growing smaller, realizing that the soft material was in fact a loose rubber bag and that it was getting inflated. She felt it squeeze every part of her body in its soft yet firm embrace, rendering any little movements she was still able to do, totally impossible.

She then felt carried away for a while before everything stabilized. Then she felt some balancing as if… could it be? She was on a boat! Yes, this balancing is the same thing a boat would do. She was driven to Level A by boat! Either it was located on a different island or it was only to disorient her. In either case, it worked…

After what she figured was half an hour, she felt carried again, probably unloaded from the boat. The pressure was released, which disappointed her since she quite liked it. The box was opened and she was released from it and her plastic wrap cocoon. She was led to what looked like a truck golf cart as it was rather long and featured a cargo box. The box had one large beam making an inverted “U” in the middle of the box, from the back to the front, made of large steel tubing. Karen then noticed that she was not alone. Three more girls, encased like herself were led to the cart and instructed to get in the cargo box. Once in it, their ankles were linked to a ring on the floor of the cargo box and another ring, one fixed to this inverted U frame, was linked to an attachment on top of their heavy rubber hood.

Then the cart drove off. Karen was trying to see as much as she could while fighting the urge to close her eyes and enjoy every moment of the ride as each bump moved her dildos. 

The first thing she noticed was another cart used to maintain the flower arrangements. It had a rather long hood from where two black bubbles were protruding close to the windshield. As they passed closer, she realized that those bubbles were actually heads covered in rubber. Whoever was inside was in fact the engine! It was rubber slaved powered! The gardeners were green clad rubber slaves, their hands being attached to gardening tools. They had only one task to do, according to the tool they “were”. She could even see a set of feet pointing out of the lawn roller, indicating that someone was stuffed inside it.

They drove by a bistro where she could notice that many of the chairs were people tied up in a very specific manner. Even the tables were made of latex clad people! Of course, so were the waitresses, their hands in their back in the reverse prayer position, a serving tray attached to their incredibly thin waist. On a table, the back of a girl, severely hogtied, was used as a fruit basket. The customers didn’t seem to mind, but rather to appreciate all of the scenery. It looked right out of a John Willy story.

The lawnmower grabbed her attention: one girl was securely fixed on top of a large platform. Her arms were embedded in the backrest of her molded seat. They couldn’t move from there. Her legs were free except for the feet encased in steel housings, in the shape of pointed boots, attached to pedals. As she operated the pedals, it made the blade under the mower move and cut the grass. She was able to control the direction of the mower by moving her upper body in the desired direction. But often, her movements appeared erratic. Karen understood when they got closer: the pedals were also making the dildo on which she was sitting rotate. So the girl was screwing herself while mowing the lawn, which made a heck of a good excuse to mow the lawn everyday!

The tour continued. There, a customer was driving along, sitting on her pony cart, pulled by two fully clad latex ponygirls. The rubber appeared thick and stiff and their corsets incredibly thin. Karen felt that her ponygirl experience was child play compared to that.

Everywhere, the equipment, vehicles, accessories, was either rubber slaves or operated by them. She wanted to live this experience, and she would do anything for it. Anything.

They were driven back to the main building, put back into travel containers and sailed back to the main island.

She would go back to school, hoping to come back the next summer.

The Last Semester

It was her last semester at med school. So far so good, although her dressing habits put her into some troubles.

She was assisting a surgery class where they were operating on a patient for a triple bypass. All the other students were there, in the regular surgical room outfit, until Karen appeared, dressed in cork six inches wedge platform sandals, completely sparkling white rubber catsuit with attached feet, gloves and hood. The suit had a red cross over her left breast. Her waist was crunched by a tight red rubber corset. The hood was completely covering her face except for the eyes and the mouth. The mouth was instead covered with a red rubber surgical mask with a white cross in front of it. Everybody turned around, many nodding in disapproval. The teacher in the class walked to her.

“What is this, Karen?”

“A rubber catsuit, what does it look like?” she asked, hiding a teasing smile behind her mask.

“That’s not the proper surgical attire.” He said.

“Why not?”

“You’re not wearing the standard protective equipment.” He said.

“I partly agree with you, sir. It’s not the standard equipment, but it is protective.” She said. She continued as the teacher opened his mouth to protest. “We wear rubber gloves to protect the patient against infection, and it also protects us against the same thing. I’m simply wearing a … full body surgical glove.” She said, hiding her smile under her mask. “I’m no threat for the patient, and his body fluids are no threat for me, everything is covered.” She said.

“Err…yes…” said the teacher, trying to find a way out of the slippery situation. “How… How about your eyes? You can get a splash of blood in them.” He said, knowing that there was the already known facial shield but it would not protect the way Karen was aiming at.

She produced a pair of swimmer’s goggles, she applied over her eyes, totally sealing them.

“I’m all set. Shall we begin?” she said.

The surgery teacher searched for a valid reason to throw her out, but couldn’t find any. She was more biologically secured than he was. Reluctantly he allowed her to participate. Karen showed that she perfectly knew what to do, and even corrected a small mistake the teacher had made.

The medical faculty director had her, one day, in his office to discuss her dressing habit, in particular the surgery room incident. She met him wearing tight medium blue rubber jeans, white long sleeves shirt and a tight red bolero jacket. She made the six inches heels of her ankle boots click on the hard floor of the corridor, then muffled as she entered his carpeted office.

He could find nothing to give her reprimands. She was in her own right to dress the way she liked. It didn’t affect her grades or her abilities to perform all the medical acts she was asked to. He nonetheless asked her to go easy the next time she would be in surgery, which she did, wearing a hospital green… full latex catsuit.

Freak Alert

She was having a light lunch outside, enjoying the hot sun over her lime green latex shirt and dark green rubber jeans when she overheard a few fellow students talking nearby. Of course she was creating jealousy amongst her fellow students, her, a freak who managed to be an all “A” student while some others who worked very hard were struggling to achieve a “B”.

“I guess she would prescribe a corset to someone who complains about back pain.” Said one blonde while laughing.

“Yes and probably say to a patient who complains about mouth problem: here, put this ball gag in your mouth.” Said the redhead one.

The laughter was getting louder and louder.

“Yes! Yes! And she would say to someone coping with a heel spur: wear ballet shoes, your heel won’t touch the ground.” Said an Asian woman.

Karen calmly finished her little lunch and walked toward the group, making her tight leather corset creak as she approached.

“Is whipping your patient part of the cure for self confidence problems?” asked the Asian woman.

Karen fondled in her bag and got out a few sheets of paper and put them on the table. The blond woman immediately took them and looked at them, frowning.

It was pictures of people in medical steel neck braces, or with a limb in a cast or with steel braces with rods going down to the bone to straighten one’s leg, or with a splint to correct a malformed foot, even psychiatric patients bound in their bed with leather straps.

“So what’s your point? All these are medical procedures… Oh, wait! Don’t tell me those turn you on?” asked the blonde.

“No Jane. I just want to point out that all these people are in these situations against their will, I mean that given the choice, they would not have chosen these treatments, because it’s painful, uncomfortable and that they derived no pleasure from it.”

“It’s not a pleasure ride, it’s a medical treatment.” Said the Asian woman.

“Exactly, Li.” She said, producing a bunch of fetish pictures showing people bound to crosses, mummified, wearing latex, leather, tight corsets, arms bind in their back, in high heels, etc.”

“These people do this openly, of their free will. They derive pleasure from it.”

“But it’s sick!” said the red head.

“Really, Carmen? As soon as you can, you stuff your feet into rigid plastic boots, snap them on top of long planks, dress yourself with layers of clothing, goggles and mask and go down slopes. Don’t you find it weird?”

“That’s not the same. I do this for the fun of the sport.” She said, realizing that she was doing it for the same reason the fetish peoples were doing their stuff: pleasure.

“Exactly. You do it because you like it. Do you like scuba diving?”

“Hell no!” quickly answered Carmen. “I’m too afraid to drown.”

“Then do you call Li a freak because she encloses herself with a tight neoprene suit, put heavy air tanks over her shoulders and spent hours underwater, just for fun?”

“I admit that…” began to say Carmen.

“… And you, Jane. You wear flats all the time. Given the choice, you would walk on hour naked feet…” continued Karen.

“That’s how we were created at first, walk with your feet on the ground, not with high heels.” Quickly cut in the blonde.

“Yes, but if someone comes to you with flat foot problems, aren’t you going to prescribe to wear something with a substantial heel to help it? What if YOU end up with flat feet?”

“Think about it, girls.” She said, walking away, the five inches heels of her black booties clicking on the concrete sidewalk as she wiggled her leather covered butt.

“Carmen!” said Li. “You think I’m a freak because I scuba dive?” asked the woman.

“I… I wouldn’t say freak but, think about it, I mean, you’re stuffing yourself inside one of those ridiculous rubber suits, breathe bottled air and you go swim with the fishes, I mean… yeah, it’s a little weird.”

“Well… I think I’m fully realizing Karen’s point of view now.” She said as she left the group.

“Where are you going, Li?” asked Jane.

“Test something.” She answered, walking away.

The class was about to begin. As usual, Karen was alone as nobody wished to be sitting next to her. She wiggled her butt in place, allowing the corset to move to the right spot. Below her, were sitting the three girls that were teasing her earlier, but something was wrong as only two of them were there. Li was missing and the other two were frantically looking for her. Then Jane made wide eyes.

“Oh my god!” she said, looking at the back of the room. 

Karen turned around and smiled. There she was, Li, in her smoothskin black neoprene dive suit, walking on neoprene shoes. The suit was very tight and revealing all of her womanly features.

She winked at Karen as she walked past her and took her seat next to Jane, but as soon as she did, they began to talk to her, pointing at the suit, touching it as if it was disease infected. Li looked back at Karen, smiled, got up and sat next to her.

“I now perfectly understand you, Karen. I’m now officially… a freak. Even if I never wear this to class again, which is probably what I’ll do because it’s too hot, I’m steaming under this thing.”

“Thanks.” Said Karen.

The lecture began and Li was obviously uncomfortable. The long zipper was at the back so it was hard to have it partly undone to cool a little. She turned to Karen.

“How… How do you do it? I mean you come here dressed in leather, which is hot, or in rubber, which is also hot, yet you never look uncomfortable. How do you do it?”

“Well, if it’s a one shot deal, you don’t really need to know. If you plan to do it again, then I’ll tell you all about it. Just come dressed as you are to my apartment tonight if you’re really, and I seriously mean really interested.” She said, not waiting for Li’s answer, leaving her time to think about it, how serious she was. She was serious.

Gizmo Expo

The Science Fair. The place to showcase your knowledge about your particular field. Karen would have liked to set up a booth about advances in medicine but nobody wanted to join with her unless she would dress more… appropriately. So, on this Saturday morning, there she was, strolling on her six inches heels white platform shoes, legs tightly encased in black PVC jeans, a tight spandex shirt and an equally tight denim jacket, barely hiding her red PVC corset, visiting the boots of others. 

One booth attracted her attention. It was from a guy named Pete. He was in optical engineering and had developed smart lenses that, when the proper current is applied, could filter UV lights or allow someone to see under infrared light. She thought it would make great… spying lenses.

And there was Dan, the composite material wizard who managed to make sculptures out of carbon fibers. One of his displays was using carbon fiber as a replacement for plaster or fiberglass casts. It was lightweight and very resistant. Only a wee bit too expensive.

At the booth where a bunch of fashionistas were presenting their fashion for hospital garments, she was looked at with disgust grins. Apparently, Karen’s ideas of surgical room fashion were not in their line. They were stuck on polyester and cotton blends.

Graduation Day

By this time, her parents were well aware of her unusual dressing habits, although she had taken care of being quite conservative when they were visiting each other. When they arrived at the graduation ceremony, all they saw was a tall woman wearing a long silk robe with the traditional square hat in her hand, smiling. Their first glimpse that something was odd was when she shook her father’s hand, revealing that it was covered with tight and shiny black rubber. Of course, her taller than usual position also drew suspicion that something was not… right. They saw it when she sat with them on a bench and crossed her legs. Her feet were encased in knee high patent leather ballet boots. She was obviously wearing a complete black rubber catsuit and by the sound it made when she sat, it was complimented by a leather corset, probably extremely tight.

They talked about her future, if she was coming to be the village’s doctor, but she couldn’t tell. Being such a grade A student, she had received numerous offers from prestigious hospitals and medical facilities.

“In any case, I think I’ll take this summer off and decide by the fall.”

“That’s a good choice.” Said her mother, looking at Karen’s gloved hand, secretly wishing that, by the end of the summer, she would be out of this weird student’s behavior.

Karen received her diploma under the cheers of the crown, quite a few noticing the extreme boots she was wearing and the fact that she had rubber gloves. They all thought it was a student’s stunt. Li walked to her after the ceremony and discretely lifted her robe to show that she was wearing her beloved smoothskin wetsuit underneath it.

“See you around, Karen. And thanks for everything.” Said Li, before going away with her parents.

The party was over, Karen’s parents were heading back for the farm. She was in her apartment, watching some TV, relaxing, the graduation robe off but still in her tight black rubber catsuit, thinking about the future. She had had no phone call from the Resort. If she was to work for a renowned hospital, she would have no choice but leave all her fetish life behind. Maybe she would be able to slowly bring it back, first hidden under regular clothes then… no. She would never be able to go to work in extreme heels.

It was the next morning. She was still lazing it off in bed, slowly sliding her hands over her tight hot pink spandex night catsuit, feeling the hot pink satin corset squeezing her waist when there was a knock at the door.

She got up on her feet, quickly steadying herself on her hot pink ankle ballet boots, grabbed her hot pink satin peignoir and walked to the door, not thinking for a minute that she was not exactly “people presentable”. She was stunned to see a woman dressed in a long red rubber coat, obviously hiding an elaborate rubber outfit underneath it, as her face was obviously covered by a clear rubber hood leaving only holes for her eyes and mouth, wearing a wig over it and standing on pointed toe boots.

“Karen I presume?” asked the woman.

“Yes I am.” Answered Karen, shocked. “How may I help you?”

“I’m Emily. I’m sent by the resort. They are inquiring why you didn’t report this morning? They thought something bad had happened and they sent me to check it out.”

“I had to report there? I didn’t know that I had been hired this year as I’m no longer a student.

“Apparently there had been some mishaps with the documents and they were never delivered. Lynda apologises for it.”

“Lynda? Never met her. Well, I met A Lynda but… forget it. Now what?

“I’m waiting for you with a cab.”

“I… I’ll be there in a moment.” She said slamming the door back on her then quickly opening it and inviting her in.

She took off her night outfit and hurriedly dressed with latex jeans and shirts, jumping in quick fitting five inches pumps and rushed to the door.

“I’m ready.” She said, panting, but smiling. She would have a go at Level A.

Level A

The trip to the pier was somewhat different and exciting at the same time, knowing that she was heading for Level A, and traveling along with someone, dressed in the almost perfect Level A personnel, mixing with the regular crowd, her face shining with the clear latex covering. Karen tried to engage into a deep conversation with her but she limited the discussion into “I’m not authorized to discuss this matter” or “I’m not aware of any of that.” Soon, they were both keeping silent.

The trip by boat was déjà vu, and Karen found it taking longer than usual, probably because she was just too eager to get on the island.

As soon as she was on, Emily directed her away from the main crowd, including people she recognize heading for Level B. She was directed to the building where she had been first fitted with her traveling suit when she visited Level A the year before, but this time, the setup was different: the outfit was not to be temporary for a visit, but for the summer. 

She was shaved once again. She didn’t mind, having been keeping a very short haircut since her prior year shaving. She was intubated, a procedure she came to know when she tested the encasement suit, of which she never had the results. Then it was the suit, which looked surprisingly similar to the one she tested, thick and very shiny. She had to work hard to put it on as it was stretchy yet very strong. She welcomed its tight embrace as the zipper was pulled up. The gag was inflated with some kind of gel. She was told that it would harden but not to the point of not being able to remove it. Then the gag was pulled down and tightened, squeezing her cheeks even more. She closed her eyes. She liked the feeling of being completely encased in rubber, squishing every part of her body. 

Behind the dark lenses, she could see the long and rigid corset being picked up for her but only realized how tight it was when they began to tighten it. She was wide eyed when they stopped, almost certain she was getting cut in half. It was easily squishing her waist at least five inches, probably close to six!

She barely had time to rub her hands against her constricted waist before they were picked, cuffed and tightly put in the reverse prayer position. Cuffs and hobble chains were added to her knees and ankles and a heavy posture collar applied at her neck.

She was then made to kneel into a small padded steel box opened on the top and one side, looking at her from the side. There was a step in the box on which her chest would rest as her knees were at the bottom. Her collar was linked to a ring on the step. Straps were drawn tight over her shoulders and lower back securing her to the step. More straps were tightly drawn on her upper legs, securing them to the raise of the step and one last one securing her ankles to the base of the box. A hose was hooked to her mouth, providing fresh air and the side of the box was closed before being filled with foam packaging peanuts and the lid closed shut, obviously pushing the overflow of peanut foam on her as they squished together.

She couldn’t move and she realized that this was one severe way of transportation, although she would be very well protected in case of an accident.

She felt being carried away and loaded, then felt the behavior of a boat for quite a while before being moved again where the case was opened and she was taken out of it. Her hands were uncuffed from her back and fitted with special fiberglass mittens, one looking like a garden shovel and the other like a garden fork. Yes, she would be use for gardening.

She was handed over to a woman dressed similarly to her but with a dark green rubber suit with red stripes, making it look like a military uniform. She was fixed to a transport cart and was driven to the central place and instructed to take care of the flower arrangement.

Easier said than done! She had no hands, only tools, and had to learn how to use them as efficiently as possible. Each time she was flexing her arm, she could feel the tight rubber pinch inside her elbow. She could feel it stretch with each movement of her shoulder, but still keeping a strong elastic force.

She cleaned the flower arrangement for the whole day. At the end, she was sent back to a black building, the living quarters where she was led to her own quarters, or rather her own cell.

It was quite small. Upon entering, she saw that the opposite wall was covered with rings at about every square foot over the padded rubber walls. On her left, a narrow bed with numerous straps. That’s where she was led and instructed to lay on it.

The “guardian” then tightly fastened every straps on the bed, securing her legs independently, slightly opened, with cuffs at the ankle, below and over the knee and at the upper thigh. Then she tightened her waist strap with all the strength she could before fastening the one going under her armpits and on the upper chest the same way. Karen’s arms were drawn to the side of the bed where her fingers were inserted into individual rubber tubes attached to the rubber padded bed then straps were tightened at her wrist, below and over the elbow. Finally, a harness was pulled over her head. It included some kind of metal fittings the guardian inserted into her feeding and breathing tubes before lowering the rest of the straps in place, including a padded blindfold. The straps were drawn tight over her neck, under her chin, the mouth pad strap was fastened to the bed and tightened, as well as the blindfold one. Finally, one last strap going from the center of the blindfold over her head was pulled tight. She couldn’t move at all.

Karen felt something being hooked to her crotch fittings and she felt her bladder being released as well as an enema beginning to be performed.

It was all silence except for her pounding heart. She relaxed and tried to make the point about her life in Level A: It was not exactly what she expected, but so far, she liked it.

Her first day on Level A had been tiring and she quickly fell asleep. She was suddenly awakened by a strange sensation on her crotch. Could it be?

Wide eyes under the blindfold, she screamed as she felt the dildos becoming alive, vibrating in sequence but slightly off sync, which only made the pleasure build even more. It was getting stronger and stronger when she was suddenly unable to breathe. A rush of panic ran through her mind as the breathing resumed and she frantically breathed as much air as she could. It only increased the pleasure. Then the air was cut-off again. She fought her bonds, trying to get free, to breathe, but she only managed a small wiggle. For any bystander, she hadn’t moved at all.

She was about to pass out when the air flow resumed, creating a burst of pleasure she never experienced before, increasing the pleasure buildup, and just as she was exploding, the air supply was cut off again, sending her over the edge in the most powerful orgasmic explosion she ever experienced, after which, the air flow was resumed.

Experiencing breath play for the first time proved to be an incomparable rush!

The vibrating dildos continued to vibrate in sequence but were slowing down, cooling her gradually at the same time until she fell asleep.

New Day, New Job

The sudden release of the straps tightly holding her on the bed awaked her. Her guardian was there, calmly removing every strap. Karen gently sat on the edge of her bed and frowned under her rubber hood at the service cart filled with rather heavy looking restraints.

Her guardian removed her corset and walked to the service cart, producing a scary looking long stainless steel corset and approached Karen with it.

Karen knew she had no choice and raised her arms as the guardian put the stiff garment around her torso, enclosing it from the hips to the armpits into the cold steel. She used a battery powered drill to tighten the straps pulling along the two sides of the corset in her back. Karen felt her body being crushed by the unforgiving steel, shaping to conform to his shape. The corset was held in the back by a steel flap, screwed. Then it was fastened, the guardian removed the straps that were used to tighten the corset, leaving only a smooth looking corset except for the front hinge and the back closure.

She then produced a pair of heavy stainless steel ankle cuffs. Karen saw similar ones on a catalog by “rigid cuffs”. They were made of many layers of steel and linked by a bundle of chains. Similar cuffs were put around her ankles and a wide similar collar around her neck. The collar was linked with the wrist cuffs with four chains, two on each wrists.

All this steel made Karen very heavy, and she was straining on her pointed toe boots. She doubted that she could go on about any activity dresses as she was, body stiffened by the steel corset.

The guardian led her to the transport cart and her collar tied up to the high seat as she was driven to her assignment. She was dragged close to a pool. There, the guardian produced a strange looking lump of rubber. She fitted it over her mouth, engaging her breathing tubes to fittings on the mask before pulling it over her head, revealing that it was a heavy rubber hood with only two small round glass lenses for her to see through. The hood was tight and that was even before the guardian began to pull down on the closing zipper, increasing the pressure all over her head. She closed her eyes and welcomed it. She just loved her head to be crushed.

The hood felt heavy. She couldn’t see much but she seemed to have some kind of appendage on her face. The guardian approached and plugged some hoses on it. Karen immediately felt fresh air being pumped in and she breathed easily.

She was then gently pushed toward the edge of the pool where she saw her reflection on the calm water. On her face was a huge snout, looking like a large vacuum cleaner brush. From it, one large hose was going up, and a smaller hose, her air hose, was going through the face mask. Steel cables were hooked on rings located on each side of her steel corset.

“Clean the pool” said the guardian as she pushed Karen in.

She made a large splash and panicked for an instant before realizing that she could breathe easily. But she was sinking quite rapidly. She touched the ground feet first and let herself gently drop on her hands. As soon as her hands touched the bottom of the pool, she felt something pulling her head down, toward the floor: the suction of the pool vacuum cleaner.

Her cleaning snout was sucked to the bottom of the pool. There, she tried to figure out a way to move it around, and at the same time, she fully understood the why and how of her heavy restraints: there was no way she would be able to swim to the surface.

She discovered that by placing her hands over her breasts, she was able to push herself forward by moving them toward her waist and easily do the reverse operation. She dragged herself to the nearest corner and she began cleaning the pool.

She liked being under the water. Although the work was strenuous, she was feeling neither too cold nor too hot, and the work actually asked for less efforts than her gardening work of the day before.

Soon, people began to jump in the pool. Apparently, they were not to stop swimming because a rubber slave was at work. Some, mainly men but also quite a few women, were apparently looking at her, probably admiring her struggle in her rubber suit to make her duties. She was unaware of it but she was also monitored for her safety.

She had no time reference except the height of the sun, and judging by it, it was close to noon. The pool cleaning was done. She was immobile at the bottom of the pool, waiting. Perhaps she would spend the rest of the day there, she had no clue.

Suddenly, the suction stopped and she felt being lifted by the wires attached to her corset. She was lifted off the pool and gently put on the ground. The cleaning hood was unhooked but not removed. She was tied to the transport cart and led to another pool where she was plugged again and pushed back in the water.

She did three pools in her day. By then, the heavy restraints had taken their toll and she was exhausted. She didn’t resist when she was tied up for the night on her narrow bed.

Skin Conditioning

Two days sealed in heavy rubber was about all the skin could cope with. The next morning, she was led one level down, and her rubber catsuit was removed, leaving only the dangling fittings at her crotch, mouth and nose.

She was led to a large room where she was stunned to see a dozen other women and men, hanging encased in what looked like Plexiglas boxes. The frames had the shape of the body, legs slightly apart and arms also slightly apart by the sides. They looked like people made with popsicle sticks. The body shape was square and the Plexiglas was covered with holes. Feeding, breathing as well as cleaning hoses were plugged in addition to what looked like high air flow hoses pushing air inside the frame.

Karen was led to one of the empty frames and was put inside. Her feet were being held in the en-pointe position by the molded perforated Plexiglas. The cover was closed and buckled in place. She was raised about a foot high then she began to feel warm air flow around her body.

“That’s the skin conditioning room. Here the air is strictly controlled to help the skin heal from the sealing. The treatment is for 24 hours. The setup is to make sure all of her skin gets the air it needs.” Said her Guardian before heading for another girl which she lowered and released from the box. “Come. Time to go back to work.”

Karen was sure that it was only a test or a joke being played on her, especially since she didn’t feel her skin was in a very bad shape. She found it rather clean for having been sealed for the last 48 hours. But it did fuel her interest into making breathing rubber for long term wear.

But the joke appeared serious as girls were taken off and others brought in, but with more damaged skin than Karen. They were hooked and let to… dry.

She did spend 24 hours hanging in the conditioning room and was eager to go back in her rubber suit and back to work.

Two morning later, she was expected to be directed to the conditioning room, but she was sent to work instead, tied up in the hood of a gardening cart, used as the engine, the head encased into what looked from the outside to be a “Simpson Bandit” motorbike helmet but which was outfitted with inflating bladders and fittings for the breathing and feeding tubes, making it a very tight helmet, squishing her head the way she loved it. Her arms were tied in a leather armbinder in her back, secured into a pouch in the back of the seat. Straps were holding her torso secured in place. Her feet were encased into knee high steel tubes welded to the frame of the propulsion pedal.

She discovered at the same time that the dildos included some electro-stimulation pads. She had no instructions and had to decode the signal of what was desired by the driver: forward, backward, faster, slower and stop. She got zapped more than she would have liked at first, but now she was understanding all the messages, although she was burning hot with desire and was as such, making deliberate mistakes, just to get zapped more.

Only the next day was she sent to the skin conditioning room. Again, her skin showed no sign of damage. Then it was work for four days, then five days, and so forth until her skin showed damage, after the 8th day. It was set up at the maximum number of days between skin conditioning. Now Karen had confirmation that she was being used to test the rubber suit, and that was probably the main reason why she was hired for the summer in the first place. She didn’t complain. She loved every minute of her experience and was sadly thinking about the end of the summer, although she had tried to keep some time reference, she simply lost track of time.

At the third session, her skin didn’t appear damaged at all when the suit was removed. The guardian took note and the next time, she was kept in the suit for nine days. The condition of her skin was checked. Since it was good, she was resealed and rechecked the next day, and so forth. She didn’t know how long it has been but she figured that it has been at least three weeks without having to sustain the skin conditioning box, as she called it.

Water Skiing

On that morning, she was led where she never went before: to the beach. She wondered what she would do. Pick-up litter on the beach? Instead, she was led to a powerful boat, the kind used to pull water skiers. She was directed to the frame where the cable was attached. The frame was a slanted A. Her legs were spread so that they would align with the legs of the A frame. They were then secured in place with numerous rubber straps, strongly stretched. Her waist was fixed to the frame the same manner as well as her neck. In her position, her head was over the top of the frame and she was looking directly at the back of the boat. Her arms were then put straight in front of her and strapped tightly together. Then a handle was put in her hands. She had to hold to it with both hands. A wire was going from it to a box under the A frame. Plugs from the box were ran up between her legs and plugged at her cleaning holes. She had no clue where all this was going.

The boat took place stretching the rope with a water skier waiting sitting on the pier. A woman approached Karen.

“You are the watchman for the skier. If you see him or her fall, you squeeze the trigger in your hand. It will send a signal to the driver that the skier fell off. But be careful. If you trigger it by mistake, it would make the driver very pissed off, and he’s quite touchy.” She said before going to the front seat with the driver, tapping him on the shoulder.

He applied the power and the boat pulled the skier, taking speed. Everything was going well. Well, better than well. Being tied like that and getting shaken around on top of the waves was simply a blast. She could feel the wind sweep on her slick rubber suit. 

The skier fell off. Karen squeezed the trigger and the driver slowed down, turning around to pick the skier back. Immediately, Karen’s dildos began to vibrate. It was her reward.

She soon discovered that, with each time she gave a right answer, the vibration time was increasing, until it was still running while the boat was at full speed. As it hit hard on a wave, it triggered a powerful orgasm. Unaware of it, Karen had also squeezed the trigger, slowing the boat, and making the diver lose balance. She had made a mistake.

Her punishment? The dildos kept totally silent for the next 5 minutes, then the next 15 minutes, then the next 30 minutes. It was really frustrating since she was orgasming within 10 minutes after it was put back on, but was blocked for 30 minutes afterward, until the end of the day.

She was led back to her cell, totally exhausted, but quite satisfied.

Side Effects

Although her skin was still fine, she was put into the conditioning box. Everything was fine until about six hours into the session where she began to feel some itching. She rubbed as much as she could against the box walls, but the itching increased. At first, it was only her lower right arm, but now, it was also her left thigh, then her back, then her left arm. But there was nobody looking at her, or at them. Perhaps there were video cameras but itching doesn’t show on camera.

The itching was getting unbearable. As she was struggling to scratch herself, the box began to gently swing back and forth. She figures that it was perhaps the best way to attract attention. She tried to make it swing harder and harder, and succeeded. At one point, the hose supplying the conditioning air broke loose off the frame, and Karen was able to make it swing even more.

Her vision was beginning to get blurry. She was feeling hot, as if a strong fever was taking its toll when she saw someone come in, dressed in somewhat normal clothes, meaning not latex ones. She had long blond hair.

“What’s going on here… Oh shit! Quick! Help! Call the medics! Hang-on Karen.  Oh my god.” 

Karen fainted as they opened the door and had a glimpse of her legs: her skin was fire red.

* * *

She was feeling warm. She moved her arm and smiled at the feeling of the rubber encasing her arm and fingers. She took a deep breath and was glad to feel the tight embrace of the rubber all over her body. She opened her eyes. Where was she? This looked like a hospital room. She tried to get up but her collar was chained to the bed, preventing it. As were her feet. Someone approached, a blond woman Karen recognized.

“Lynda? Is that you? What are you doing here?”

“Hello Karen. I’ll explain later.  How do you feel?”

“I feel fine… I think. What happened? Oh hi Carla, hi Phil.”

“Hello Karen.” They answered together.

Lynda removed Karen’s chains and allowed her to sit on the bed.

“First, let me introduce myself. You already know my name, Lynda, but I’m not the struggling girl trying to wear tight jeans.” She said, as she showed that she was in fact, dressed in full rubber jeans, shirt and jacket, standing on ballet boots. “I’m the main recruiting officer. My goal is to make aware potential recruits of the possibility of the resort. With luck, I find someone like you, who will reach the top.”

“So, this was all a setup?” asked Karen, puzzled.

“Setup? Not really. You were offered possibilities. You had the choice of taking them or refusing them. You took what you wanted. We only helped.”

“We? You mean Mister M.”

“Mister M doesn’t exist,” said Lynda with a warm laugh. “Well, he does but M stands for Management. We, at the management, are Mister M. We take the decisions together.”

“I see. I think.” Said Karen. “No big deal, I did like what I lived in those past summer, until this dreadful moment in the conditioning room. What happened?”

“It was an unpredicted side effect of the long term rubber suit.” Said Carla. “Apparently, your skin became… addicted to the rubber suit. When we took it off, it reacted as anybody would react to a desintox. Well, not exactly but similar. It took time for your body to accept the rubber, and once it had, it didn’t want to let go. That’s why you’re back in rubber.”

“And the way out is?”

“Increase the time your body is exposed to air gradually, until the skin adapts. It’s a little like quitting smoking.” Said Phil.

“What is the worst outcome?” asked Karen.

“Being unable to wear anything but rubber.”

“I wouldn’t complain about that.” Said Karen with a smile while looking at her fingers, somewhat clumsy under the thick rubber. “Is there a way to make it thinner or more flexible?”

“Yes there is,” said Carla, “but it involves spraying the liquid rubber directly on the body.

“Cool. Lets do it.” Said Karen.

“We have just one concern: we have no way to tell if it will be possible to remove the rubber at all. We tested it, well Carla tested it for about a week, and it was somewhat glued to her skin when we peel it off.”

“It was the best exfoliation treatment I ever had.” She said with a smile, “but not quite pleasurable.”

“So you’re saying that if I get sprayed on, I might be forced to stay like that for the rest of my life.”

“That’s what we’re saying, yes.” Said Phil.

“Okay… Carla, remember Pete, from the electronic department? Get in touch with him. Get also in touch with Dan at the composite material lab.” Then turning to Lynda.

“I have a proposition for Mister M.” she said, very seriously.

Final Encasement

She was in a white tiled room, completely naked, legs slightly apart and arms along her sides, also slightly apart so not to touch it. Her mouth was filled and she couldn’t speak, already intubated for breathing and feeding. She had some kind of greasy looking lenses over her eyes. Right now, her vision was somewhat blurry. Her ears were plugged but, like the lenses, a very thin flat wire, almost transparent, was running from it to the right side of her head. Someone approached, dressed in a white rubber lab coat. It was a woman evidently, judging by her features. 

“Ready Karen?”

Karen nodded yes, and the woman took a spray gun and began to apply the shiny black liquid. It was very thick and adhered perfectly to Karen’s hairless skin. Karen’s breath became shaky as she felt the first coat of liquid rubber get in contact with her skin. That is what she had been dreaming of since the first time she wore rubber, a few years back. The spraying continued. Two very thin coats were applied, then they were subjected to strong UV lights for fifteen seconds. The rubber was still not fully cured. It was too early for that.

Two men approached with a rigid torso, opening it in two halves upon reaching Karen, revealing its carbon fiber construction. They wrapped the device around her waist. It was shaped perfectly for her, reaching from the hips to under the breasts. They used stainless steel straps to tighten the sides together. But although it was made for her, it was small, very small, crushing her waist to a thin tube. Six inches reduction over her already thin waist was incredible” Just as there was still a small gap between the two halves met, one of the men applied an adhesive inside the gap before tightening the steel straps until both sides were firmly held together. 

A stool was approached and Karen sat on it. The men took carbon fibers pointed toe boots and took them apart in two halves. They were applied on Karen’s feet and more steel straps were used to fasten them in place, helped with some glue. 

Another carbon fiber tube was placed around her neck, acting like a high posture collar, as well as cuffs on her wrists, elbows and knees.

They then waited for fifteen minutes before removing the steel straps. Karen resumed her position and two more coats were applied.

Again, a fifteen seconds of UV lights secured the liquid rubber in place. One of the men approached Karen. He used a sharp knife to dig in the rubber on the side of her head, next to her right eye. He retrieved a small connector which he plugged into a thin box the size of a matchbox. It had a few colorful buttons on it. He then added a coat of liquid rubber and squished the keyboard in place, smoothing the liquid rubber and using a portable UV light to partly cure it.

The rubber was smoothed out around her feeding and breathing tubes, inserting the final stainless steel fittings on her mouth. More fittings were fitted on the hanging tubes at her crotch allowing cleaning procedures.

Gentle poking was done around the ankle of the boots, on each side of her feet, to find screwing holes where O rings were attached O rings were attached to the inside and outside of her other cuffs and four O rings were added around her collar. All were screwed and glued. Even with all her strength, she wouldn’t be able to rip them off.

Finally, rubber paste was injected into her blow-up gag, filling her mouth until the cheeks were bulging out. She knew that, once cured, the gag will be impossible to remove without a surgical procedure, and then when cured, the hood will shrink, pushing in those bulges. It would be awesome!

Everything was checked out one last time and Karen was asked to give two thumbs up to continue with the procedure. She did.

Powerful UV lamps illuminated the black rubber form in the middle of the room. She felt the suit tightened as the rubber cured completely, sealing her in thick and incredibly tight rubber.

When everything settled, she flexed her arm for the first time, welcoming the resistance of the rubber. She flexed her fingers. The rubber was clinging to them. It would be better than any kind of glove. Karen reached the keyboard on the side of her head and pressed a button. The lenses cleared but she was still looking fuzzy until Carla wiped off the grease put there to prevent any rubber from adhering to it. She was now seeing clearly. She pressed another button and she saw all her features in infrared light. Another one, and it was under UV filters. Karen frowned and took Carla’s arm, directing her attention to a small black spot. She made a few signs with her hands, like the sign language used by the mute people.

“She said to have this check out.” Said Lynda who could read the language. It was actually her which suggested it to Karen where the management team was concerned about the lack of communication a fully enclosed doctor would have. So far, it worked well. She would just need a nurse who can read sign language.

Carla looked at her arm.

“It’s only a small burn, Karen. I did this yesterday while cooking. You will need time to assimilate the signals your special lenses are sending.”

Karen lifted her right index finger in a “wait” fashion, fondled at the keyboard on the side of her head, then made a rolling gesture. She had forgotten her earphones to off.

Carla explained again the cause of the spot. Karen nodded a small yes. Her posture collar was very effective and she could barely move her head at all. She set her vision back to normal and walked toward a long mirror on the wall and looked at herself. She was stunning! A gleaming deep back long and slender body, incredibly thin waist, large breast. Every curve was accentuated by the reflecting light. Her head appeared small, tightly encased in the shining rubber. From the outside, the slightly spherical lenses appeared black and are reflecting like mirrors.

Not a single wrinkle, not a single imperfection.

From the inside, the feeling was simply awesome! The tightness of the suit provided support to her pointed legs. The tight corset forced her to keep an erect, pushing on her breasts. She loved the tightness of the hood over her head. 

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Perfect. I love it.” She said with sign language.

Then the sign language she uses was obvious for anybody. She glide her hands from her neck, down to her breasts, then followed the contour of her constricted waist, reaching the hips, slowly riding inward toward her crotch where she stopped for a few minutes before going back up her waist and breasts, over her head, and finally, down an arm, feeling the tight rubber all over. It was a dream come true.

Resident Doctor

The teenaged girl was brought into the examination room, supported by two fellow employees. She was hopping on one foot, keeping the other in the air. She was sat on the examination table and the helping girls left after they were assured that she would be fine.

Shortly after, a woman dressed in a white rubber catsuit with a red cross over her left chest walked in. She was standing on ballet toe boots but it didn’t seem to bother her. She was completely encased in the white rubber except for her bright green eyes and her bright red lips.

“Hi. I’m nurse Foxy. How can I help you?” she asked.

The young girl looked puzzled at first but went on.

“I hurt my ankle at the beach.” She said, lifting her left leg in the air. “I hope it’s not broken.”

Nurse Foxy took a look at the foot. A dainty sandal with a four inches heel was still fastened on the feet. The ankle was obviously swelling.

“It looks like a sprained ankle, but not very severe. You were in heels at the beach?”

“Yes.” She said, somewhat embarrassed. “I kind of love high heels and I would wear them all the time.” She said. “I hope you don’t think I’m weird or anything.” She said.

Nurse Foxy simply made a step back and opened her arms, putting in evidence her rubber catsuit and her tightly corseted waist wrapped in a red rubber corset.

“Yeah, right. Sorry.” Said the girl with a large smile.

“I’m going to have to ask Dr. Karen for this. DOCTOR!” yelled Nurse Foxy.

From behind her, the young girl heard rubber creaking and clicking sounds. Then from her left, appeared the sight she had only imagined in her dreams, the sight that only a few people were genuinely saying they had seen. The sight of a slim and tall woman, completely encased in pitch black shiny rubber, waist severely constricted, walking on pointed toe boots. Doctor Karen. The Legendary Doctor Karen.

Karen made a few signs to Nurse Foxy.

“Her name is Nadia. She sprained her ankle while walking in heels on the beach.”

Karen took the girl’s ankle in her gloved hand. The girl shivered at the touch of the warm rubber. Karen gently pressed at different parts of the ankle. At one point, Nadia twitched. At other points, she didn’t react. Dr. Karen then took the medical file of the girl who just couldn’t stop staring at the unbelievable sight in front of her, all this tight rubber. She could almost see the muscles of Dr. Karen’s arms work as she moved her arms. That’s how tight the rubber was.

“Nadia,” said Nurse Foxy. “According to your insurance plan this… this is going to cost you…an arm and a leg.” Said Foxy, reading Karen’s sign language at the same time. The girl smiled.

“Well, you get what you pay for.” Answered Nadia.

Nurse Foxy left them and came back a few moments later with a case of fiberglass rolls.

“Well, obviously, it’s going to be the left leg. Do you have a preferred arm you would like to be immobilized?” asked Dr. Foxy, preparing the fiberglass cast while Karen was already beginning to wrap Nadia’s left foot, with the shoe still on.

© Pete / monsterp63, June 2008

Revised and slightly modified for neck entry catsuit in August 2020.

Damn… 99 pages long!

My longest story!

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2 thoughts on “Karen – Summer Job

  1. This has long been one of my favorites because it has such a good build up as Karen grows and explores. I particularly like her interactions with her fellow students, and the discussions about kink it brings up.

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