Karen – Deja Vu


Author’s note: Yes, it shares some resemblance with the movie “Groundhog Day” with Bill Murry. It is the inspiration behind this story.

Day 0

The vast prairie was only disrupted by the column of dirt, rising high under the high sun as the sporty convertible car was driving fast along the dirt road. But although one would think that anyone driving such a fancy car under a warm sunny afternoon would enjoy such a ride, the driver of this particular car was displaying an angry face, frantically banging on the dashboard.

“Damn fucking GPS! I told you to lead me to Megaville, not Lostown, you piece of worthless shit!” she said as she bang the dashboard again. But the screen remained steady, showing that she was driving in the right direction.

A few kilometres farther away, there was an intersection. The GPS indicated to continue, but Karen saw the outline of some town about one kilometre to her right. She turned and accelerated, her large tires spinning on the gravel as the GPS was trying to indicate to turn around.

It was a small town, like any other small town. She stopped by a gas station, apparently the only one of the village. The mechanic, a rather young man, walked to her.

“Hello miss. Nice day for a drive. How can I help you?”

“Hi.” She said, rather dry. “This fucking… Navigation Aid got me lost here. I want to go to Megaville, but it had me driving through small dirt roads for the past three hours and I’m lost. Can you show me the fastest way?” she said, punching the touch-screen, revealing the road she had done lately, all obviously following the dirt road.

“It sure screwed up to drive you through here, but what it’s indicating is the right way from here to Megaville. It’s probably just a wrong setup som…”

“Thanks… Phil.” She said, looking at the embroidered name on the man’s shirt and sped away, leaving him in a dirt cloud. But she hadn’t made it 50 meters before her car began to cough and ultimately died.

“Now what!” she said, as she turned the key, trying to desperately restart it, but it didn’t respond.

The mechanic had walked up to her.

“Well, I guess the engine is laughing at you too. May I have a look?”

Karen grunted as she popped the hood and a small puff of black smoke rose. The man looked at the engine and frowned before putting the hood down.

“At first sight, your ignition computer went up in smoke. I’ll have to push you back to the garage.” He said, waving at some other villagers to have a hand.

A few minutes later, the car had been pushed back to the garage. All the helpers were very kind to her but she was as cold as ice to them.

“So, how much is this gonna cost me?” she asked.

“About a thousand dollars.”

“Shit. Well, I have no choice. Do it. I’ll wait.”

The man laughed.

“Of course you’ll wait. It won’t be ready before Monday morning.”

“What? No way. Fix it now. I’ll pay you overtime but I have to be in Megaville tonight. I’m expected at a very distinguished dinner with the mayor and…”

“Listen lady. We don’t have that many fancy sport’s cars around here so I do not have this part in stock. I have to order it. It’s Friday. It’s 16:00. I’m lucky if I can place the order. There’s no delivery here on Saturdays or Sundays, so it will be Monday morning. If I can place the order and if they have it in stock, I should get it by 10, Monday. That’s the best I can do.”

“Shit! Damn! I’m already late. Is there a bus route, a cab, something I can ride to be in Megaville tonight? In one hour?”

“Impossible. First because it’s a two hours drive from here. The last bus left fifteen minutes ago and the next one will be only Sunday evening and no taxi here.”

“Well…” she said, suddenly trying to look warm and sexy in her perfectly cut expensive designer dress and jacket, “… perhaps you can drive me there.” She said, biting her lip in a provocative way.

“On any other circumstances, I would love to, but not today. Not this weekend. It’s the FetFest this weekend, and I wouldn’t miss it for all the gold in the mine.”

“The FetFest?”

“Yes! The FetFest. The Fetish Festival.”

“Oh that’s sick!” said Karen. “Don’t tell me you fantasize about making with… farm animals…”

“What? Hey, that’s not because we live in a small community that we have to be disgusting. It’s a fetish festival, you know, leather, rubber, heels, bondage, those sorts of things.”

“Yeah right. Here. In the middle of nowhere… What is it, your first edition?”

Phil pointed up at the giant banner, which clearly stated in “leather clad” letters, that it was the 8th edition.

“You’re welcome if you want to. Friday nights are rather calm. Most of the people come here for Saturday’s party. Everybody’s welcomed, no dress code enforced.” He said as if it was as natural as talking about the year’s crop.

“I think I’ll pass. I hope you have a hotel or something?”

“Yes. Just across the street, there’s Sylvia’s bed & breakfast. She always keeps one of two rooms free in case of an emergency.”

“Thanks.” She said as she began to cross the street, grinning. A fetish festival in the middle of nowhere. She couldn’t imagine farm women dressed in rubber… unless the cattle were put in heels and corset. And picturing a bondage scene with suspended sheep, she thought that it gave an all new meaning to being “hung like a horse”…

Sylvia’s bed and breakfast looked like a small dinner. The waitress was a woman in her mid 20’s. At the moment, she was standing behind the cash register. Karen approached her.

“Hi. I’m looking for a room. My car broke down and Phil up front directed me here.”

The waitress looked at Karen from head to toe.

“Funny. Not the usual look for the car breakdown excuse.”

“Pardon me? I’m serious here.”

“Ah, then sorry, miss. You see, most rooms are all booked three months in advance for the FetFest. I keep a few rooms in case of emergency and the “car broke down” is a classic one, except that the girl usually pulling it up wears much more skimpy or I should say, fetishy clothes on. By the way, I’m Sylvia”

“I… I’m Karen. Well believe me, I would rather be in Megaville tonight. I had an important dinner where I was supposed to meet an important client… Oh shit. I have to call them.” She said, picking her cell phone. Dead.

“There’s no cell phone service here, miss Karen. I’ll book your room and you’ll be able to call from there.” Said Sylvia with a very soft and friendly voice.

Karen went through the usual check-in procedure. Sylvia handed her the key, indicated that the room was on the second floor, then walked away to serve customers. Karen did a double take as Sylvia was wearing one of the tightest pair of jeans she ever saw, and was walking on very high stiletto heels as if they were sneakers. She stood there, like in shock, staring at the young woman.

“Something wrong?” asked Sylvia, rubbing her tightly encased butt with her hands, in case something was stuck to it, like a piece of sugar pie or something.

Karen shook herself out of the stare and walked up to her room, almost running. She rapidly called her customer who turned out to be very angry.

“Well, if you can’t set up a GPS or can’t follow a simple road map, how can I trust you with my investments? No need to call me back, miss.” He said, hanging up on her.

Now she was depressed. Stuck in a small town, about to run a weirdo’s festival, losing an important contract. She had lost her appetite but she needed a drink. She walked downstairs.

“Is there a bar in this place?” she coldly asked Sylvia.

“Yes, miss.” She answered with her still very soft and peaceful voice. “Two blocks down the street. Andrew’s pub, but…”

She didn’t have time to finish her phrase, Karen was gone.

“If she was in shock because of my tight jeans, she’s in for a heart attack.” Said Sylvia to her nearest customer which laughed at the thought.

Karen walked down the street. On the other side, a young woman was closing her store. In the display windows, were mannequins wearing tight fitting denim and leather jeans, along with equally tight shirts and jackets on one side of the door and on the other display window, mannequins were wearing shiny skirts, dresses, pants and in one corner, one completely covered in shiny black fabric, including her head, with strange looking steel straps in a few strategic places. The woman locking the door had long curly blond hairs and was wearing extremely tight jeans, high heels pumps and an equally tight denim jacket, so tight that she appeared to have difficulties reaching for her purse, hanging on her left shoulder.

“That’s sick.” Thought Karen.

She entered the bar and frowned.

“Well, what should you expect from a town like this.” She whispered to herself as she took place at the counter.

The waitress was wearing a tight fitting red rubber leotard with black leather jeans, of course, extremely tight, and was walking on high heels platform sandals, apparently quite at ease with this.

“Hi there. What should I get you?” she joyously asked.

“Vodka” coldly said Karen.

“A vodka it is.” Answered the woman, quickly preparing the drink.

“Hey, Kat! Bring another round of beers, will ya?” yelled a man at the back of the bar, at a table with three more men and four women, all dressed in a disrespectful manner, according to Karen’s point of view, of course.

 “I’ll be right there, Chuck!”

Karen had a few drinks, looking more despaired after each one.

“Looks like you had a bad day.” Asked Kat while bringing Karen her sixth drink.

“Yeah, bad day.” Answered  Karen, getting pretty drunk. My GPS screwed up, I missed a dinner which probably screwed up my career, and I’m stuck in this weirdo’s hole…” she said as a man and a woman entered, although the man was sporting high heels thigh high boots over a tight leather catsuit. The woman at his side was wearing the same outfit. “… of which two good examples just walked in… make that three.”

Another customer was entering the bar. It was a woman, rather short but thin. She was walking on boots with a thick platform about six inches high, surrounded by chromed spikes. The leg of the boots, although laced up, was covered with leather straps and chrome buckles. She had dark pants looking like tight jeans, with chromed spikes running down the side of the leg. Her leather jacket, tight, was partly opened revealing a tight black shirt. She had black half gloves covering only the palm of her hands. Her hair was long and deep black. Her face was covered with black make-up, from her lipstick to her eyeliners.

She smiled at the waitress and took a seat next to Karen.

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Weirdos!”

“There are no weirdos here.” Said the black dressed woman. “Only people who think weird things.” She said, looking at Karen straight in the eyes.

“Go to hell.” Said Karen while taking one more drink.

She spent the rest of the evening complaining about her lost opportunities and how sick the people of this town were and that she was eager to get out of there. She threw a bunch of insults to the woman sitting by her side she came to know as Sabrina. But this one never answered back, only smiled and said nice thoughts. To Karen, it was even worse.

By the end of the evening, she was plain drunk, almost unable to walk straight. She wobbled out of the bar under the applause of the crowd who had enough of her down talk.

“Go to hell, all of you. You’re just a bunch of sick people. A shrink would make a fortune with you!” she yelled as she walked out.

Once on the sidewalk, she looked around to find her way, turning to one side, then to the other one. Suddenly, the black dressed woman, Sabrina, was standing in front of her.

“You know miss, you should open your mind to the world but also to your most inner feelings.”

“Get out of my way!” yelled Karen. “Go back with your sick-o friends and leave me alone.”

“Instead of judging people by the outside, you should look inside your soul. You might be surprised by what you would find.” Calmly said Sabrina.

Karen turned around and walked toward her. She raised her arms and pushed hard on Sabrina’s shoulders, sending her on her butt on the street.”

“Get a life!” said Karen.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Said Sabrina while getting slowly back up. “I had been nice, I gave you some advice, but you are just too pig head to hear anything.”

Karen stopped and laughed.

“You think you scare me? I…”

“You, Karen, are a very bad person. You’re selfish and self centered. You think of no one but yourself and you believe that what you think and believe, is the only way to be.”

“Hey! I’m not a pig!” mumbled Karen.

“You deserve to learn more.” Said Sabrina while raising her arms in the air. “You will never find peace. Tomorrow will be today until you get in touch with your deepest feelings and FETISHES….”

“What? Now way, I don’t have any of those fucking weird fetishes!” said Karen, trying to walk back to Sabrina to punch her in the face.

“… Tomorrow will never end! May the spirits of the Fetishes hear me!” yelled Sabrina.

“What do you think you are, a witch?”

There was a thunder sound. Karen turned around to find where it was coming from, but the sky was as clear as it could be, displaying his awesome carpet of stars and with the crescent moon rising over the horizon. When Karen turned around to face Sabrina, she was alone. Sabrina was gone.

“What the fuck… Oh rats. Now where’s that damn hotel?” she said, stumbling toward it.

Day 1

“Good morning boys and girls. It’s going to be a wonderful day today for the 8th annual FetFest. It’s currently a comfortable 19C outside at 06:00…”

Karen slammed her hand down on the wake-up radio to shut it off.

“What the fuck…” she said, still dizzy from her last night of drinking, non remembering setting the alarm clock on and putting it on.

Dizzy, she got up and headed for the bathroom where she took a long shower. She came out in a lot better shape, yet still sleepy. By her room window, she saw a white luxury car stopping in front of the hotel. The driver came out, wearing a long leather coat, barely showing high heels boots. Her red hairs were held in a strict bun. She walked to the back of the car where she opened the trunk. She fondled in it for a few moments and when she closed it down, a man was standing by her side, completely covered with studded leather, hands tied in his back. She clipped a leash to her collar and dragged him along

“That’s sick.” Said Karen, putting her clothes back, smelling the cheap alcohol and the cigarette smoke. She didn’t have any other clothes and she would have to find some.

The mechanics on the other side of the street, was serving some gas to a black van. The driver, obviously a woman, extended a shiny covered arm with the money to pay the goods and drove off. The mechanics then headed for Karen’s car, parked to the side. He sat on the passenger seat and appeared to sneak around.

Karen frowned. It was an invasion of privacy since he was not working on the car’s problem. At that same moment, a woman was coming to the restaurant of the hotel. She was strolling on six inches high heels and platform sandals under incredibly tight red leather jeans. Karen recognized her as the woman from the clothes shop.

Karen grabbed her things and walked downstairs. By the counter, the red hair woman was waiting, a strict look on her face, her… man, kneeling by her side, waiting while Sylvia was serving a cup of coffee to go to the blond woman.

“Thanks Sylvia. I’ll come back later to pay you since you have customers already waiting.”

“No sweat, Lynda.” Said the owner of the bed & breakfast walking back to the check-in counter. “Yes, this thing finally worked.” She said, ripping the receipt off the authorisation machine. “there you go. You have room number 16, right here to your right to the end of the corridor. The X frame is already there. Have a nice stay.”

“Thank you very much, miss.” Said the woman, giving a short tug on the leash. “Come on, piece of trash.” She said at the man, struggling to get up and then walk on six inches stiletto boots, ankles linked with a short chain.

Karen felt totally humiliated for him and wondered what pleasure he found in this. Upon passing her, the woman made a sniffing sound. Obviously, Karen did not smell very good.

“Where can I find some clothes around here?” she asked Sylvia, not taking into consideration that she was occupied serving customers. “Hello? I’m talking to you…”

But Sylvia continued taking the orders, raising her finger in a “one minute” sign.

“Excuse me…” Said Sylvia when she raised her head, “I was already busy with customers. You were asking? Ah yes, clothes. Well there’s Lynda’s store. You’ll find everything you need there.”

“Any other one? I’m not into this… kind of clothes.” She said.

“She usually has some different assortments, but since it’s the FetFest she got her most beautiful clothes on display.”

“Her most beaut… never mind.” Said Karen, leaving, pissed off.

She walked to the store. The window was already shocking her as mannequins were clad in spandex and rubber, especially that one close to the door, with something that looked like a gold trimmed corset, and steel cuffs and collar, standing on pointed feets.

Upon entering, her senses were struck by the strong smells of leather and rubber. Rack after rack were filled with the shiny fabric; latex, leather, spandex, PVC, plastic, with a few rack filled with more dull looking fabrics, mainly denim. There were already a few customers inside although Lynda had barely unlocked the door.

“Hi. I’m looking for dress pants and a nice shirt.” She said to Lynda, not taking into consideration that she was already helping a customer at choosing a gasmask.

“Dress pants?” asked Lynda, turning around and then noticing who was talking. “Ah… dress pants. Well sorry, I do have some but they’re way at the bottom of my storage room and it would take me half the day just to get there, that assuming that I didn’t had any customers to serve. I can suggest a pair of designer jeans or nice leathers.” She said turning back to the other customer “Yes, it is fully functional. If you block the breathing tube, you block-off the air supply. Ideal for breathplay… Yes, I’ll be right with you.. .Red? Yes, I’ll get you a pair.” She said to another customer holding a pair of white thigh high patent leather high heel boots before going to the back of the store.

Karen was pushed surrounded by customers, looking at the array of latex clothes, one taking a long sleeved leotard in her hand, then smelling the air.

“Gee… smells funny…” then getting closer to Karen. “Oh, sorry, it wasn’t the latex.”

Karen heard the message, for the second time. Reluctantly, she headed for the denim rack and browsed around, picking a pair of True Religion faded jeans before heading for the changing booth. She got out of it a few moments later, pissed off, and headed for Lynda.

“What’s the rip-off here? You label clothes larger than they really are? This is supposed to be my size but it’s so small I can barely put them on.”

Lynda took the jeans, read the label and held them at arm’s length.

“No, it’s the right size. Remember, they are cut tight. Those are tight fitting jeans.” Calmly said Lynda, then looking at a woman turning in front of a mirror admiring her figure in a light blue PVC catsuit, “I would go one size down, but get the long body style…”

“Then where are your… normal sized jeans?”

“Sorry, that’s all I have… here let me help you.” She said to another customer, trying cuffs. Lynda quickly linked the woman’s elbows together then the wrists. “Those are really comfy. Just keep them for 15 minutes and you’ll want them.”

Karen felt ignored. She returned to the rack and took a pair three sizes bigger, but when she got out of the changing booth, she realized that they looked awful, being too large at the waist for the relaxed fit look at the legs.

She was sweating even more and it didn’t help her smelling clothes. She took another pair she was sure to fit okay, grabbed a T-shirt and a denim jacket and headed for the cash register.

Lynda came a few moments later.

“Sorry. My employee couldn’t make it this morning. She has a bad case indigestion to put it mildly. 

Karen handed her credit card and got out of the store and headed to her hotel room where she took another shower before she put her T-shirt.

“Shit… I should have known better.” She said as she struggled to unroll the much too tight garment down over her breasts, squishing them, then down her belly. It was the correct size. The correct size for a very tight fit. 

“Good thing it has some spandex.” She said as she tugged on the white T-shirt, removing the wrinkles. Then there were the jeans.

“What the fu… oh shit! I took the wrong ones.” She said, realizing that she took the “correct size”, meaning very tight. A look out the window indicated that people were practically lining up for the store. No way she would be able to exchange them. With a sigh, she decided to try them. She had to lay on her back, on the bed, twist and turn while she was pulling them one, and they were stretch jeans!

She couldn’t believe that those were the proper size for anybody. She struggled to fasten them. By then, her goal was to put them on and go back to the store to prove that they were too tight, and hope she would get an easy exchange for a bigger size. When she got up, the first problem arose: the inseam was too long, about four inches too long. She tried to bend over to roll them but could hardly do it. Out of breath, she managed to do it. She grabbed her jacket and, well you guessed it, another surprise. The Levi’s denim jacket was also cut on the tight, very tight side. It was also stretched but she felt the size of the sleeves were made for a child’s arm although the shoulders rested at the right place.

She looked at herself in the mirror and grinned.

“I look like a freakin’ weirdo… I should blend well into this town.” She said as she headed out.

Getting downstairs was difficult as the denim was pinching her in strange places and the legs cuffs kept unrolling. Walking across the street also felt weird as she had to rock her hips side to side to walk. She was feeling her buns getting squeezed with each step, as if giant hands were squishing them as she walked. And there was this rubbing at the crotch. She entered the store, full of people and headed for the counter where Lynda was selling some kind of leather harness.

“There you go. Play safe!” she said, all smiling.

Karen cut in.

“It doesn’t fit right…” she said, opening her arms, revealing her very tight outfit with her rolled up jeans legs, mostly unrolled and trailing on the floor.

“You’re absolutely right.” Said Karen, turning around and picking a pair of high heels pumps. “There, I’ll get your invoice later at the hotel… Yes for you? Oh yes, very restrictive. You can’t move your head in this. You’ll love it.” She answered a customer putting a posture collar on the counter.

Karen, stunned, holding the pumps in hands slowly turned around and headed back to her hotel room. By the time she got in, she was walking on her pants. She threw the shoes on the floor and lay on her bed.

“This place is nuts.” She said.

She stayed there, breathing in short gasps, fighting the tight shirt and the tight jeans. Her hands were resting on her thighs, unconsciously gently rubbing the tight fabric, sending small tingling waves down in the inner thighs.

“What the f… I need something to pass the time. I’m not about to stay in this room all day.

As she was about to roll the legs cuffs once more, she realized that they wouldn’t keep rolling for long. With a sigh, she took the heels and put them on. Lynda had a gift for sizing people as they were the right size. 

Standing in them was another story as she was not used to anything higher than two inches. She strolled down the stairs, slowly, carefully.

As she walked through the restaurant, full at this hour, she didn’t attract as much attention as the other times and she even got nice looks from handsome looking guys and even some girls. Yes, she had a beautiful figure and those tight clothes revealed everything. She headed for the bookstore.

“Of course, what else.” She said while entering and discovering that all the books prominently displayed were all fetish books, ranging from latex pictures to bondage stories to how-to bondage books. A large display was showing fetish novels by some guy named “Pete.” They appeared to be hot sellers. She had to go at the back of the store to find conventional books. She chose one by Danielle Steel, paid for it and was heading back to the hotel when she noticed a small park nearby. She walked there, barely realizing that she was strolling along on five inches heels. In fact, she even liked the walk, not feeling annoyed by it, but of course, she didn’t realize it. Only her sub-conscience registered it.

Sitting on the hardwood bench created a pinch at her crotch. Her thighs muscles, looking to expand felt compressed by the tight garment. She felt as if she was not sitting on the bench but floating on it. It felt strange yet, not unpleasant.

She opened the book and read but it wasn’t long that the people passing by her, wearing all this leather, latex, spandex and other silly looking clothes got her annoyed, especially those in bondage. She needed a quieter place, so she headed for the hotel.

Once lying on the bed, while reading, she barely realized the small movements she was doing with her buns muscles, working her crotch. She wasn’t really noticing the fact that the book was resting on her lower stomach, right on the tight jeans, close to her crotch and that each page change was… fun.

When she realized that, while reading a hot love scene, her finger was rubbing her crotch and she liked it, she was shocked and almost threw the book away.

“This place is cursed. I get turn on by a fucking love story? That’s sick!” 

But she couldn’t deny what she was feeling, what her body was telling her brain, that she was getting hotter by the minute. She decided to take a walk to cool down, but it only made matters worse, or better, depending on your point of view. She hadn’t made 10 steps out of the hotel that she had to grab hold of a lamp post as her body shivered and trembled with an orgasm like she never felt before.

As she was recomposing herself, a young woman, barely in her 20’s stopped by her and put a hand on her shoulder.

“First time, right? Well it happened to me too. Here, especially this weekend, people won’t mind and will even wink at you, but in the city, you will have to control yourself more and… put in some protections.” She said, pointing down.

Karen looked and there was an evident wet spot at the crotch, and it was not urine.

“Have a nice day.” Said the young girl, walking away with jeans Karen wondered how she was able to put on, her buns dancing with each step, evidently looking for a place to go but locked in the ultra-tight denim, as she fought to keep her balance on incredibly high and thin heels.

“That’s impossible. That’s not me…” she was repeating in disbelief, but as she began to walk again, she couldn’t repress the feeling, the pleasurable feeling she was getting from the tight jeans. She reached the park bench where she collapsed, panting and sweating, red faced.

“Are you okay” asked a man in a studded leather suit with an equally studded hood.

“Yes… I think.” Babbled Karen.

“The paramedics are in the white tent up this street, if you need to see a doctor.”

“No thanks,” said Karen with a grin. “I think I need a shrink.”

The man laughed with a soft bear like voice, in total contrast with the harsh and violent image his outfit was displaying.

“Well, aren’t we all?” he said, leaving, still laughing, something that belonged more to Santa than to a dominator.

She walked back to the hotel. On her bed was a little package, coming from Lynda’s boutique. Karen opened it. It was a pair of jeans with a pair of plastic briefs. There was a note.

“I heard about your little incident. Since I haven’t provided you with the necessary things at first, I take it on my fault. In compensation, here’s another pair of jeans, brand new (not spoiled 😉  ) and a pair of thin plastic panties to… hold the mess up. Better add tampons. See you tonight.”

Karen looked at the panties, made of pink transparent plastic. She put tampons and then the panties. They were somewhat loose fitting but tight on the waist and thighs would ensure a nice seal in case of… overflow.

It was then time for the jeans. When they glide over the plastic briefs, Karen bit her lips. She somehow liked that feeling. Then it was the struggle to fasten them on, which she managed to do quite fast. She got up, jumped on her heels and looked at herself in the mirror, making sure that everything was perfect and it was: the plastic briefs were a no show. Then she stopped, startling.

“What the hell is happening to me. I can’t like these things yet… I really need to talk to a shrink.” She said as she headed downstairs.

It was now dinnertime. She enquired if there was another restaurant in the town and Sylvia suggested a chic restaurant two streets farther away where she could have seafood and other expensive meals. When Karen inquired if there was any dress code, Suzy answered that she would blend right in dressed as she was.

She walked over there. She had to stop twice, grabbing hold of something to let the good times roar before she reached the restaurant.

“I really need to work on this.” She said as she entered the restaurant, checking in the long mirror if anything was showing. Nope, the plastic pants were doing their job.

She was seated next to a couple where the man was dressed in a very fine leather suit, and the woman was concealed into a very tight fitting rubber catsuit. Her arms were awkwardly restrained in her back, reversed, wrists up linked to the back of her wide leather collar, so wide in fact that she couldn’t move her head much. Her waist was crushed to an incredibly thin size by a leather corset. Her feet were encased in ballet boots, her legs firmly held together by wide leather cuffs at the knees and ankles, linked together with snap links. One more strap was wrapping her thighs to the chair while another one was doing the same thing with her upper chest. Her head was covered with a shiny black rubber hood with the only hole being the one over her mouth. A gag looking like a deflated balloon was hanging on her neck.

The man put some shrimp on his fork and gently presented them to her. She chewed on them slowly, obviously smiling.

Karen surprised herself, not at liking it, but at founding it less… weird. She ordered seafood for herself and enjoyed her meal.

The couple was done. The man fastened the strap of the gag over the woman’s mouth and, using a hand held pump, pumped it until Karen noticed that her cheeks were bulging and the woman made two sharp moans. He removed the pump from the gag and the straps securing her to the chair, then removed the link of her ankles, leaving the knee one in place. He then snapped a leach on the front ring of her posture collar and pulled on it.

“Come sweety, it’s time to go to the party.” He said. She hobbled along.

Many other guests, dressed in similar fashion, some as restrained, some less, gradually left the restaurant. And it was still quite early in the evening.

“Geesh, people do eat early around here.” She said to her waiter.

“That’s because they don’t want to miss anything from the fetish party. I guess it is your first time?”

“Err.. well, yes.”

“Then I would suggest you skip dessert and head for the auditorium.”

Karen looked at her plate, only half emptied.

“I don’t have room for anything more anyways. Thanks.” She said as she paid and left.

He was right. Everybody was converging to the auditorium, but although she liked her tight jeans, she didn’t think she was weird enough to be part of all this. She headed back to her bedroom, to finish the book.

Again, this time only once though, she had to slow down while pleasure engulfed every hidden place of her brain. She collapsed on the bed and began to read. She surprised herself many times at rubbing her crotch, scratching it with her fingernails, but as she reached the last page of the book, she fell asleep.

Day 2

“Good morning boys and girls. It’s going to be a wonderful day today for the 8th annual FetFest. It’s currently a comfortable 19C outside at 06:00…”

Karen slammed her hand down on the wake-up radio to shut it off.

“What the fuck…” she said, feeling dizzy as if she had drank too much the night before. “I’m sure I set this thing off last night.”

Dizzy, she got up and headed for the bathroom where she took a long shower. She came out in a lot better shape, yet still sleepy. By her room window, she saw a white luxury car stopping in front of the hotel. The driver came out, wearing a long leather coat, barely showing high heels boots. Her red hairs were held in a strict bun. She walked to the back of the car where she opened the trunk. She fondled in it for a few moments and when she closed it down, a man was standing by her side, completely covered with studded leather, hands tied in his back. She clipped a leash to her collar and dragged him along

“What the fuck… Didn’t they come in yesterday?” Said Karen, looking for her jeans and heels but finding nothing but her old clothes back, smelling the cheap alcohol and the cigarette smoke. 

“Hey, where’s my stuff.” She said, looking for the book on her bed table, which had also disappeared

She looked again through the window. The mechanics on the other side of the street, was serving some gas to a black van. The driver, obviously a woman, extended a shiny covered arm with the money to pay the goods and drove off. The mechanics then headed for Karen’s car, parked to the side. He sat on the passenger seat and appeared to sneak around.

“Didn’t he do that yesterday? Either that or I’m really mixed-up.” She said, witnessing a woman who was coming to the restaurant of the hotel. She was strolling on six inches high heels and platform sandals under incredibly tight red leather jeans. Karen recognized her as the woman from the clothes shop. “Wow. People here like to keep their routines.”

Karen grabbed her things and walked downstairs. By the counter, the red hair woman was waiting, a strict look on her face, her… man, kneeling by her side, waiting while Sylvia was serving a cup of coffee to go to the blond woman.

“Thanks Sylvia. I’ll come back later to pay you since you have customers already waiting.”

“No sweat, Lynda.” Said the owner of the bed & breakfast walking back to the check-in counter. “Yes, this thing finally worked.” She said, ripping the receipt off the authorisation machine. “there you go. You have room number 16, right here to your right to the end of the corridor. The X frame is already there. Have a nice stay.”

“Thank you very much, miss.” Said the woman, giving a short tug on the leash. “Come on, piece of trash.” She said at the man, struggling to get up and then walk on six inches stiletto boots, ankles linked with a short chain.

Karen looked at them and headed for the counter. Sylvia was already taking orders from customers. Karen was about to speak but remembered what happened the day before. She waited.

“Hi. I was wondering where are the clothes I bought yesterday? Did someone go by the room to pick them up to send them to the cleaner or something? I didn’t go to the auditorium last night so they weren’t spoiled.

“I can assure you that nobody went to your room last night. As for the auditorium, I really don’t know what you’re talking about since it was closed yesterday. The party is tonight, only on Saturday nights.”

“What?… Err isn’t it Sunday? The party was yesterday, right? Yesterday was Saturday.”

People in the restaurant began to giggle.

“I would suggest you go back for some more sleep, miss Karen. Today is Saturday.”

“What? This can’t be…”

She headed out under the amused smiles of the customers and walked across the street to Lynda’s store. She recognized the display window with that gold trimmed corset suit or something.

Upon entering, her senses were struck by the strong smells of leather and rubber. Rack after rack were filled with the shiny fabric; latex, leather, spandex, PVC, plastic, with a few rack filled with more dull looking fabrics, mainly denim. There were already a few customers inside although Lynda had barely unlocked the door.

She found her close to the counter, helping a customer at choosing a gasmask.

“It is fully functional. If you block the breathing tube, you block-off the air supply. Ideal for breathplay… Yes, I’ll be right with you.. .Red? Yes, I’ll get you a pair.” She said to another customer holding a pair white of thigh high patent leather high heel boots before going to the back of the store.

Karen had a sense of dejà vu, as if everything that was happening had happened before, yesterday to be more precise.

Karen was pushed around by customers, looking at the array of latex clothes, one taking a long sleeved leotard in her hand, then smelling the air. Karen swiftly went away, knowing that she was the one with the funny smell. She knew what she wanted. She headed straight for the jeans rack, picked a pair, a shirt and a jacket and headed for the cash register, putting everything on the counter.

“I would need a pair of shoes and some, well, you know…” she asked, uneasy with it.

“Of course, miss.” Answered Karen. “So you decided to try some. That’s not this weird anymore? Quite a change from yesterday night, if I may say.”

“Well, things happen.” Said Karen, handing her a credit card.

Karen left with her goodies and headed for the hotel room where she changed, welcoming the feeling of yesterday… or was it?

For the first time, she was really thinking about what had happened. Was all this real or just a dream? Did she dream of the day she “lived” yesterday or did it happen? As she put on the tight jeans over her plastic panties, she was sure she couldn’t have imagined or dreamed what she was feeling. This was real… yet it was unreal.

She remembers some of the things of the day before, or her dream, and she decided to check them out.

She headed back to the street. The first thing she noticed was that she felt at ease with the heels, although she should have never worn anything like that before, unless…

She went to the bookstore and chose the same book as in her dream. She browsed the story. Yes, she knew it. She had read it… but she bought this book yesterday… err… today… the last time it was… today. Weird.

She chose another one and walked to the park bench. Of course, she had to stop twice for her orgasm to go through but she was getting better. A young girl, wearing extremely tight jeans and incredibly high heels walked by her, giving her a wink. She recognized her. She was the one who gently noted the wet patch on her crotch.

This was all too weird. She spent most of the afternoon on the bench, looking at people go by before heading back to the bookstore and buying another book. For dinner, she headed for the seafood restaurant a couple of streets down. She was not surprised to be seating close to a couple where the woman was totally encased in rubber.

She headed back for her room and began to read the new book, slowly rubbing her crotch. At this point, the pressure was too strong and she began to heavily stroke her pussy through the tight denim. She exploded like never before and gently fell asleep.

Day 3

“Good morning boys and girls. It’s going to be a wonderful day today for the 8th annual FetFest. It’s currently a comfortable 19C outside at 06:00…”

Karen slammed her hand down on the wake-up radio to shut it off.

“What the fuck…” she said, feeling dizzy as if she had drank too much the night before. “Oh darn! Again.”

This time, she tried some leather jeans and chose a pair of boots instead of the shoes. 

She liked the smell of the leather. Together with the creaking sound, it felt arousing. She surprised herself at wishing it would be tighter.

She bought another book and tried something else on the seafood restaurant menu, always sitting next to the totally enclosed woman, then headed for her room. Finally, she fell asleep.

Day 10

Yes, the same morning again. The same run to the store and the same buying of clothes. She was now looking at the PVC rack. She looked very carefully at a red catsuit, but decided on black jeans like pants, completed with the rivets on the pockets. She added a tight PVC jacket, a long sleeved PVC leotard and red platform boots with six inches heels. She was really liking this stuff.

This time, she changed the routine. She accepted the fact that she liked being tightly dressed and in high heels. It was not so “weirdo” anymore. 

While exiting the store, she paid more attention to one of the mannequins in the display window. It was covered in rather thick and shiny rubber. There was a long zipper up the back, opened. Around the waist, what looked like a built-in corset, underbust, with rich looking gold trimmings. Rigid stays could clearly be seen about every two inches, all around it. Steel cuffs were encircling the mannequin’s wrists, elbows, knees and ankles. It was standing on pointed boots, like ballet shoes that appeared rigid. A large steel collar was encircling her neck. Finally a steel band was tightly encircling her waist with another band going under, between the legs and then back up in front where it linked with the belt. Karen smiled. It was the first time she was actually looking at a chastity belt. She glanced the mannequin from the enclosed head to the toe boots and wondered who would want a setup like that and why.

She decided to have a go at the main hall, where the main festival was taking place. Her questions might be answered there.

Of course, guarding the entrance was a leather-clad man covered with studded straps. Her senses were quickly overwhelmed by the music but also the mix of smell, from PVC to leather to rubber, as well as seeing all those mostly shiny outfits, very few being loose fitting.

The place appeared to be divided into rooms, and each one, a different setup, a different event was happening. 

In the first one, a woman wearing a full rubber catsuit, was tied to an X frame and was teased by another woman, dressed in full leather, running a vibrator along her tied-up body, stopping at the crotch, at her chest, then slapping her with a riding crop on her inner thighs.

The captive woman, gagged, was softly moaning. Karen didn’t quite understood what was pleasurable at this, but she kept her mind open.

In the next room, a woman, wearing nothing but a corset, appeared sandwiched into some transparent rubber vacuum bag while a man was gently teasing her with ice cubes. Again, her moans were not of panic or distress, more of enjoyment.

In the following rooms, she saw men and women, mostly tied up in different positions, being tormented and teased by different people, sometimes many at a time.

She reached the main hall, where the music was the loudest and where most of the participant were having a go at the latest music, and having a drink.

She walked to the bar, witnessing the different people, dressed in different outfits that obviously aroused them. She sat at the bar and ordered a drink. Shortly after that, a man wearing a tight fitting black rubber catsuit, a rubber corset and apparently walking easily on four inches heels, sat next to her.

“I never thought to see you here. You came to complain about their low life standards?” said the man.

With the dim and flashing lights, Karen barely recognized him.

“Oh, you’re the mechanic. I recognize you now. Well, sometimes a good night of sleep opens new horizons.” She said.

“It’s definitely a change from yesterday.” Said Phil. “Glad you like it. I like your outfit.”

“Thanks… I… I have a question. From my room window, I saw you fondling in my car this morning. What were you doing? Received the parts already?”

“No, I went to test a theory. And I was right.”

“About what? That I can change my mind on… this?” she said, waving at his muscular black chest gleaming under the flashing lights.

“No, about your GPS system. You, or someone else, programmed it to AVOID all highways and freeways. The only roads it could choose were the winding country roads. It was leading you in the right direction, following the only choices he was given.”

“What? I never programmed it this way. I’ve always taken highways. I’m not even sure where I have to go to change this setting.”

“Well, perhaps someone who would have gained from you being late could have done it.”

“Forget that. That’s stupid. Nobody I know of would gain from me losing the contract.”

“In any case, it was programmed to do it, either by a mistake from your part, or by someone else, or by a software glitch, although I never heard of anything like that before. Anyways, enjoy your night!” he said, getting up and starting to dance with a woman wearing a very long leather coat, reaching to the floor.

Karen finished her drink and headed back to her room. She laid on bed, not taking time to remove anything. Why bother since she would start all over again “this morning”. She began to think about what Phil said and who could benefit from taking the contract away from her.

Day 11

She was quick in her leathers and out of the store, back to her room and began to make some phone calls.

She came up empty handed. It wasn’t foul play. But then she remembered she surprised the neighbour’s kids playing around her car in the morning. Yes, he was a brat enough to have caused that. If she ever gets the proof, his parents are in for a nice lawsuit.

Day 188.

Yes, over six month’s worth of living the same thing over and over. She had been through most books of the library. She even rented a car and drove to Megaville to try to fix things up, or at least, prepare something so when this repeating day will be over, she would be able to go on and get back that customer. She had to do it over the course of a couple of days because she learned that at 3AM, wherever she was, whatever she was doing, she was back in her bed, on this Saturday morning. At the end, she was not even bothering to drive back. She would stroll along the main streets, in different clubs, wearing a different outfit every night but consisting mostly of tight leather and PVC and even a few rubber items, until 3 AM ringed, and bam! She was back in Lostown Motel.

On this day, she had chosen a deep blue rubber catsuit and was trying a corset for the first time, but she couldn’t tighten it by herself. Phil seemed not very busy so she went to him for some help.

He gladly helped her, explaining to her at the same time, what he had found about the GPS programming. It was news to him, but it was hard for Karen not to wave the explanation off because it was the103rd time she was hearing it.

In the evening, she tried the blow-up crate, where once inside, the lining inflated, pinning her down, totally immobile. She had already tried the X frame, the cross, the vacuum bed, the hogtie, the medical chair, the enema, body cast, tape mummification and a whole bunch of other setups.

She knew that everybody, but her, would not remember what happened.

Day… something.

She had stopped counting. Was it a year? Two years worth of living the same day over and over again? She tried everything, even a setup so severe that it would kill her, but instead of dying, she simply ended up back on that dreadful Saturday morning. There was no way out of it.

She had noticed that by 15:00, Lynda’s store was pretty much empty and she had taking the habit of going back, look at the merchandise although by then, she knew the inventory by heart. All but this puzzling suit by the display window. She finally asked Lynda about it.

“Oh this? That’s the perma-lock system.”

“Perma as in… permanent?”

“Yes. The closure of the suit uses a special gliding zipper made of two reacting polymers. When they are put together, the chemical reaction starts. There’s still a grace period of about half an hour, after that, it’s impossible to remove without tearing off the suit.”

“Latex being rather fragile, that should not be difficult.”

“That’s the point. This is not latex, at least, not pure latex. It is some kind of rubbery compound mixed with Kevlar and carbon fibres and a whole bunch of techno chemicals. Here, have a ball.” She said, handing her a utility knife with a very sharp blade.

“Err… What do you want me to do?”

“Go ahead, have fun. Cut it in pieces. If you succeed, I give you a brand new one. At least, that’s what their publicity says.”

Karen grabbed the leg and noticed very faint scratches as if someone already tried it before. She applied the blade, pushed and dragged. Nothing. It glides on it. She tried harder, same thing.

“Are you sure this blade is not dull?” she said as she scratched her thumb nail with it, proving that it was in fact very sharp.

“At least 50 people tried it so far, even Phil. Hell, he tried it with his power drill and even with his blowtorch and couldn’t damage the suit. He wasn’t able to draw a nail through it.”

“Wow. Impressive. It means that someone sealed in this thing…”

“Is sealed for the rest of his or her life.”

“Quite a commitment. How much does it costs?”


“Shit! That’s the price of my car!… Well, not much to lose. Can I try one?”

Lynda laughed.

“You’re serious? Well first of all, it’s only a demo. I would have to take your measurements and have one made. It takes the classic four to six weeks.”

“Rats. It’s too long. How about this one? Perhaps I can fit in it?”

“It’s your money… and your life. Lets see.” She said as she headed back to the counter, got a binder and flipped a few pages. “Come here, I’ll take your measurements.”

A few minutes later, Karen got the verdict.

“Well, as for every length, body, legs, arms etc, it’s a perfect fit. On the size side, it’s about 10% too small, as for the waist, well forget it. How tight is this corset?” asked Lynda, pointing at the garment Karen was wearing.

“It compresses me about three inches.”

“Wow… you would have to remove three more to fit in it, and be very accustomed to.”

“What do you mean? All you have to do is draw it tighter.”

“No. Seen any draw strings on the suit? Because, there’s none. The only entrance is the zipper. It means that the body has to fit in the suit the first time. There’s no way to tighten it to close it. Only one very accustomed to wearing such a corset would be able to hold her figure for the time needed to put the suit on before it expands back. And in your case, you’re three inches too big. In other words, forget it. I can order one though.”

“No, I need this one, and I want it for tonight. Well, better start to train now.” She said, unfastening the laces of her corset. “Give me a four inches.”

“You expect to reach six inches of compression for tonight? I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s impossible.”

“Let me deal with that, will you?” she said, hand her credit card.

She was quick to run back to Phil’s garage, and he was happy to help her tighten her very tight corset.

“I can’t believe how one inch seems so much tighter.”

Gasping for air, she walked around, and did what was now her usual tour of the festival. What would she try, again, for the countless time? There, suspension by the feet. Why not?

A few months later.

Karen picked her rubber catsuit and her corset, six inches down.

“Are you sure you will be able to fit into this? I mean, this is quite tight. And you’re sure about the boots too?”

“Yes, no problem, I’ve had months of practice.

As she headed back to her room, she was amazed at how she would remember, how her body would remember, but at the same time, she wouldn’t age. In all this time, she never cut her hairs, never cut her nails and although she had the same body, she could now walk easily in ballet boots and six inches compressing corset without much efforts. She felt that it was the right day.

She had time to browse the website of the company, and learned all the intricacy of the suit. The built-in hood was enclosing a blow-up gag that gets filled with rubber paste that would cure with time. Tubes would be going through her nose and down to her lungs, while another one would go through her mouth and down to her stomach. Dildos would fill her lower orifices, being blown up buy the same rubber paste, making them permanent. From then on, only an enema would take care of her waist, and she would have to be fed a special food.

By three in the afternoon, she entered the store with Phil. She would need all the help she could get.

“It’s the big day today. I take the suit.”

Of course, it was still the first time for Lynda, and she had to go through all the measurements, and explanation about the corset etc. Karen was quick to cut that she had been through their website and was aware of all the details. She paid for the suit with her Amex card, which had a $100000 limit. She knew she had nothing to lose since, tomorrow, it will be today again.

She kept her corset for the first stage of the suit pulling it over her legs. The rubber was not as stretching as natural latex and putting the legs was hard. 

The hollow dildos were lubricated and pushed in place then Lynda inserted her finger in each tube and pressed, feeling a capsule break, releasing the foaming agent, which would react with the rubber paste already present in them. Karen felt them increase in size, filling her with much more pressure than she anticipated. She squirmed but liked it.

She liked the increase in pressure. Then her arms were fed into the sleeves, down to the built-in gloves. It wasn’t difficult to remove the wrinkles as the suit was so tight that there weren’t any. It was time to close it.

Phil quickly undid the corset she had now under the suit and quickly removed it while Karen held her breath. As Phil was pulling on each side of the zipper opening, Lynda was struggling to pull it up. 

They were grunting, swearing and sweating as they struggled to close it. Phil wanted to call it quits a few times but Karen urged them to continue. They stopped when the zipper reached her shoulder blades.

Karen was all smiles and was breathing in very short gasps, realizing that she was used to the compression of the corset but the suit being this tight, it was also compressing her chest, making her work hard to expand her lungs.

“Time for the hood.” Said Lynda, panting. “Ever got intubated before?”

“No sweat. Go ahead.” Said Karen who had been practicing the procedure. She knew when to swallow and the feeling it was to have. It was not very pleasant but she was sure that the overall feeling would just be overwhelming.

Once the tubes were through, the hood was unrolled over her head. Karen chewed on the capsule to release the foaming agent. Protective plastic bands were removed from the yoke of the hood as well as the collar of the suit. As with the zipper, the two polymers would fuse to seal it in place. The hood zipper was pulled down the back, squishing her head in the thick rubber and at the same time, suddenly increased the pressure in her already filled mouth.

Now she was seeing dim as the dark lenses over her eyes filtered most of the light. She felt her pounding heart throb in her tightly enclosed head as the sound was almost cut off by the thick fabric.

They yanked the suit zipper up, sealing everything. Karen was in her own world, vision dimmed, hearing dampened. Phil and Lynda ensured she was okay. After all, they had about half an hour to get her out of it if anything was to happen, and they were sure she would change her mind. A commitment of being permanently sealed in a rubber suit is a very strong commitment.

They led her to a nearby bench where she sat. Phil took one of the special ballet boot and separated the two plastic looking halves, removing the protective plastic film on both edges. He placed both halves around her feet and with a lot of strength, clamped them together until the small latches clicked. Now the compound would do the rest. They were a simply rigid version of the rubber of the suit, just as strong but totally rigid. He did the same with the other feet then helped Karen get up. He took her face in his hands and tried to look at her eyes through the dark lenses.

“ARE YOU OKAY” he said, loudly. 

Karen nodded yes and gave two thumbs up.


Karen nodded no, that she was all fine. She began to walk around the store, then, wiggled her fingers at them in a “goodbye” fashion and walked away.

People on the street were turning their heads. There was this gleaming, curvy liquid tar female form, walking on pointed toes, wiggling her way around, obviously enjoying every minute, every second of it. One could see a very large smile under the thick hood.

Karen walked slowly, balancing her arms, sometimes putting her fingers on her butt to feel it squeezed by the right rubber, putting her finger in the single crease created at the back of her bun when she was walking. She felt the dildo move inside her, massaging her insides like she never experienced before.

She walked past the seafood restaurant but didn’t enter. Yet, she witnessed the man with the totally enclosed woman entering. He gave her a gentle bow, admiring her setup.

That night, she was the sensation. Everyone wanted to see her, to touch her. Everybody wanted to see the one who committed to be enclosed in rubber for the rest of her life.

Being spread eagled on the X frame turned out to be a totally different experience, tightly encased as she was.  She fell asleep, hanging upside down, with a mix of exhaustion and total satisfaction.

One Month Later.

For the past month, Karen had been living her rubber encasement fantasy. Again, she had tried every setup imaginable, and she was now shaving her head completely before going to the store to feel the rubber to its maximum but the day just restarted again. Yesterday, she tried the complete reverse, staying in her room the whole day, not changing, not dressing up. It did nothing. So she was ready for the next step.

She went again to Lynda’s boutique and faced the barrage of questions and warnings for buying the suit. Only this time, she added the permalink cuffs.

She welcomed the pressure of the rubber all around her body, then Phil approached with the large steel cuffs. They would be a little tight but they would do the job. He began with her ankles, putting them in place. He then used a small ratchet strap to close the cuffs together until the latch clicked. Karen twitched. Although it was just a sound, it was also a meaning that it was too late to change her mind. He proceeded with the other ankle, then the ones above each knees, followed by the wrists and over the elbows.

He then tackles the chastity belt. A steel band was circling her waste was another one was running under her crotch, reaching back at the belt. He linked all the belts together, and they were a very tight fit. Karen felt the dildos, not totally inflated and hardened, being pushed deeper inside than she thought. They were quite disturbing. With a pair of pliers, he crushed the locking block. It was now totally impossible for her to reach the dildos.

The last item was the collar, about three inches wide, forcing her head up and straight, limiting its movements. She felt the locks engage and Phil removed the ratchet strap. He made a few steps back and took position besides Lynda.

“You look stunning” Karen read on her lips. “It is quite a commitment.” Added Lynda.

But Karen could see that they were both aroused buy the sight, especially Phil who couldn’t hide his bulging organ.

Karen turned around, looking in the long mirror. She was looking hot. She was hot, and she was feeling totally wonderful.

She gladly walks around the village, stunning people about her changes, her who just 24 hours before, was treating every citizen of weirdo and sicko for wearing tight clothes and high heels. And there she was, sealed in rubber for the rest of her life, wobbling on pointed toe boots.

Again, that night, which was still the first night for the rest of them, she was the main sensation, the main attraction. Her permanent cuffs were used to tie her to the ceiling railing or to any other objects.

She ended up tied like a pretzel, legs crossed under her, arms in the reverse prayer position, neck linked to the knees, suspended over the crowd of the dance floor. Later she was simply sitting on the ground, chained to some links on the floor, unable to move much. She ended the night fixed to a cart, used as a ponygirl. 

As soon as she collapses on the bed, totally fulfilled, she awakens on that same dreadful morning.

Growing Relationship.

With time, her relationship with Phil had grown. Unfortunately for him, it was always a first date, but this time, he had been with her the whole evening. At around 1 in the morning, he managed to get her to a table where he fed her drink with a special pump that came with the suit. He took a piece of paper since it was easier to write to her than to yell through the thick latex sealing her body.

“What do you say we end this evening at my place?”

Karen agreed and they were seen slowly walking hand to hand down the street. Karen appeared very tall besides him. Her ultra-shiny suit was reflecting every street lamp, every neon sign there was in colourful rainbows.

He led her to his house, attached to the garage, and led her to the bedroom where they embraced. Of course, all he was touching, all he was feeling was nothing but rubber. He caressed her breasts and squeezed them as much as he could through the thick rubber, killing her feeding hole, blocking her breathing tubes. He tried to play with the dildos but the chastity belt prevented it.

“Better not take it tomorrow” she thought to herself.

She felt being caressed, from her smooth head down to her thighs, the smoothness of the rubber only cut by the tight steel cuffs.

You tried almost every setup in the main hall tonight, but there’s one you haven’t tried. Care to? He said to her. She nodded yes.

He led her to the garage, under the chain winch he usually used to get engines off the cars. He approached her with snap links and linked her ankles together, as well as the knees. He put her arms in the reverse prayer position, linked her arm cuffs together, then her wrists which he linked to the collar. He then gets the chain down from his winch until it reaches her ankles. He then linked the chains links to the ankles, knees, chastity belt, arm cuff, wrist cuff and collar.

Working the controls, he gently raised her up. The pull was evenly distributed along her body and it was very comfortable. He winched her up over the car being fixed until she reached the high ceiling.

“Good night honey, see you tomorrow.”

Karen wiggled as a goodbye gesture. She felt just great, slowly balancing. She felt she had found her place, her soul mate.

A flash in her eyes awoke her. She opened her eyes only to see cars under her as she was slowly balancing on her hanging chain. Another flash. Cars passing outside were reflecting the morning sun in their windows which were hitting the garage.

Wait a minute… Morning sun? What day is this? What the fuck happened.

Karen frantically tried to get free but she only managed to balance even more. The garage door opened and a smiling Phil appeared.

“Good morning my dear. How was your night? I hope you liked it because that’s how you’re going to spend most of your nights from now on.” He said, all smiling as he was lowering down.

As soon as she was unlinked, she ran outside and looked around. Could it be? She had slept through the night and this was actually Sunday? A look at the hotel across the street provided the answer as the couple with the man on the trunk were leaving, not checking in.

That meant that it was over, that she could go on with her life. That… She looked at her rubber covered hands, at the steel cuffs. Frantically, she tried to remove them but couldn’t. She rushed to Phil and gestured to him to take them off.

“You can’t, remember? Those are permanent, like your suit. Gee, what a change in just one day. I guess you never thought you would end up like that, sealed in rubber for the rest of your life, living here, with me. Oh, I love you Karen.” He said, embracing her.

Karen was staying frigid, not responding. Reality was sinking in.

She had no choice. She knew the outcome. She just never thought that her ordeal would end this way. She thought she was there to learn her true inner feelings, not live them for the rest of her life. They were easy: she loved tight rubber, high heels… and Phil. No doubts.

Phil had put her to good use on the very first day, chaining her to the gas pumps. Along came a small jeep, and a driver she recognized: a young woman, black hairs, black clothes and black make-up.

“Hello there. Well, I wished that you would discover your deepest fetish but I never thoughts they were this strong.” She said with a devilish smile. “Just be careful at what you say and to whom you say it the next time.” She added, but pointing at Karen’s permanent gag, “Then again, I don’t think it will be a problem anymore.”

© Pete / monsterp63, January 29, 2009

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3 thoughts on “Karen – Deja Vu

  1. I can imagine how difficult it was, not to go into describing each her day in all juicy details! )))

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