As she was putting her drink down, her cell phone rang a single tone. She looked at it and smiled.
“Sam,” she said to the bartender, “I just got my paycheck. Let’s have a drink for everyone!”
Everybody around here cheered. It was the usual. Each time she was at the bar and her regular lottery paycheck was received, she would pay a drink to everyone present.
She took another drink, paid the barman with a huge tip, and left.
“Thank you, Karen.” said Sam. “And a happy new year!”
Karen walked out, slightly drunk, unsteady on her high heels boots. Once outside, she slipped and fell on her butt, laughing. A gentleman helped her get back up. It was not easy since she was wearing jeans so tight that bending the leg was difficult.
“Want me to call you a cab?” said the man.
“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just a few blocks away.” she said, wobbling her way. She zipped her down jacket. It was so tight that merging the zipper was not easy, especially when drunk and wearing leather gloves she never takes off.
On the next street corner, she made to her left, had a spin making a 360, then, suddenly, became sober. In fact, she wasn’t drunk at all. She was an expert at deceiving, pretending. After all, she was a con artist and a high tech criminal : she was stealing industrial secrets to sell them to the highest bidder.
She steadily walked to her car, a midsize SUV, pretty common, so not to draw any attention. She drove to her average apartment, yet somehow luxury since she… won the lottery.
She took off her down jacket, revealing that her leather gloves were reaching to her shoulders. Then took off her tight T-Shirt and removed her tight jeans and ran her fingers to the imprint of the seams along her thighs. She just loves that.
She put on her beloved burglar business suit, consisting of a shiny spandex black catsuit. The spandex was thick. She had started with a cheap thin spandex, but rip the suit open on a small shard of metal. She went to a thicker and thicker suit until she reached that one. Same with the zipper. The first ones had cheap ones that burst open. Perhaps she was wearing them too tight, but the zipper simply had to cope with it.
She sensually pulled the suit up her legs, pulling hard against the tight spandex, before feeding her arms in. The suit was total, with socks and gloves. The less openings, the lesser the chance someone saw her skin or that a part would be caught somewhere. After all, she would be crawling on ventilation ducts.
Knee high black leather boots with a half inch platform and a 5.5inches heel completed the outfit. The sole was made of rubber with thick grooves, allowing her to have a firm grip on the snow and also when climbing ducts or walls. The heels didn’t bothered her at all. Even more, it puzzled whoever was looking for her. They were looking for combat boots marks, not high heels.
A glimpse at the mirror and she smiled: she was wearing a full body spandex disco catsuit.
She put on a long coat to cover her catsuit while she was in public and drove off.
The facility she was aiming on that new year’s eve, was a chemical company. As with all her targets, she looked for press releases and shareholders information to pinpoint what might be interesting to steal. Usually those secrets are on a different computer network, not accessible through the internet. That’s why she had to get in.
She stopped on a side road, put the hazards on her SUV and left a note on the dashboard saying “Engine problems. Will send a tow truck tomorrow. “with a (false) name and a phone number to contact. That was in case someone found the car.
She completed her outfit with a shiny black spandex hood. It didn’t had any hole for breathing and had dark lenses over the eyes. It was so tight that the lenses created some kind of isolation pocket around her eyes, very useful in case of tear gas use. She walked toward the facility. The high fence was just ahead. But she wasn’t looking to jump over it. She was looking for a service entrance, and she found it. The lock was a standard magnetic card one. She took one of the electronic devices from her duffel bag and quickly unlocked the door.
She proceeded to walk. Surprisingly, her shiny black catsuit didn’t make her stand out in the dimly lit alley. In fact, the shine of the suit made her melt with the slight shine of the snow. Having worn a dull catsuit, she would have stood out like a shadow.
Her high heel boots were making a high pitch squishing sound as she was walking on the snow, something that the sound detection devices for trespassers were not looking for. They were listening on the more low pitch of a combat boot or something similar crunching the snow, not the high screech sound her heels were making. Even more. Guards would be looking for combat boots soles when searching, not spiked holes.
The building was about 100ft away, but that was in a clear area. The lighting was not uniform so she walked slowly keeping in the shadows. Once again, her suit proved perfect. She reached one of the service doors. She got in easily using another electronic gadget. She got in.
She knew where the research department was. All she needed was an Ethernet port, but it had to be within that department to be on the same network. The best and fastest way: ventilation ducts.
Checking her plans on her electronic tablet, she walked to the right one and quickly got inside. She had just enough place to crawl and her sleek spandex suit helped a lot. She turned left, then right, then let herself drop gradually down a couple of different ducts until she reached the second basement level.
She loved the rubbing of the tight spandex on her skin as she crawled, the way it tugged and pulled between her legs. She loved the gliding feeling when she was skidding down.
A few more turns and she encountered a row of UV lights to disinfect the air. The lenses of her hood had the proper filter so her eyes would not get damaged. She passed through it slowly, so it would kill any surface bacteria off her suit, lowering the chance to be detected. It would be a shame for her reputation to be discovered because of a bacteria.
Another junction to the left and there it was. She carefully opened the access door and peaked around with her head through the opening from the ceiling. Nobody. She spotted a IR movement detector to her left. It posed no problems. She took all the pictures she needed of the different instruments and physical setups of the devices then closed the access panel. What she wanted the most was a little farther away. Sometimes, she wondered if it was made on purpose. On the side of the duct was a service opening. By opening it, she was 10 ft away from a router placed in the ceiling. She had to crawl carefully on the suspended ceiling tracks to reach it. She took her pad, added an adapter for a cabled network and plugged it into the router. She rolled on her back, making sure she was well supported and began her search. Sometimes, she would catch a glimpse of light coming from her pad, reflecting on her shiny arm, and she would smile. She liked that.
About an hour later and two visits from a security guard below her, she had all the information she wanted.
She began her climb back. Going down was easy with the sleek suit, but crawling back up was another story. She had to use the rubbery tip of her boot to get a grip and crawl up, helped with suction cups for her hands. This was a lot more noisy. Four times she had to stop as a security guard was nearby.
She felt pretty safe now. She was on the last leg to exit, going over a series of tanks and vats, when she heard someone.
“Hello there. I know you’re in there somewhere.” said the guard. “Let me just find you.”
By a grill, she could see him pointing an IR camera on the ceiling. Yes, he would detect her with that. She had to act fast. He was too far to catch her and there was too much equipment between him and her. She had to get out of the ventilation duct. She crawled to the nearest access port and punched it open and let herself drop.
Gun shot. Twice. But she was unharmed.
“Shit! This guy is serious about his job.” mumbled Karen. “That was not part of my plan.”
Carefully, she walked amidst the tanks and vats, trying to avoid him, trying to reach an exit. Her spandex outfit proved useful as it was pretty much noiseless, as well as her high heel rubbery soles. However, they were not the best footwear to wear over grating.
She heard someone coming from the distinct sound of the steel floor being walked on. It was getting closer. Using her gymnast abilities, she grabbed a hold on some pipes and silently pulled herself on top of one of the reservoirs, using the sleekness of her shiny suit to push herself out of sight, and waited. She saw the guard. He walked right where she was hiding, but did not look up. Karen was holding her breath and was pushing hard with her arms to stay in place as she was slipping on the polished stainless steel of the reservoir’s cover. She followed his sight and when she felt safe, she carefully and silently let herself drop on the steel walkway. She looked for an exit and found one. She had to get to the ground floor first, which meant using a staircase in plain sight.
Slowly, she reached it and walked down.
Gunshot. She tuck and she heard the bullet whistle pass her head. She ran to hide behind more reservoirs. Walking crouched down, her thigh rubbing against each other with the smooth feeling of the sleek spandex was turning her on but it was not the time nor the place. She was so close to the door, yet so far away. He had foreseen her plan and he went to the exit door and used a chain to lock it. She would have to find another way out. Ventilation ducts were her only hope, but she had to go back up the stairs. There was a ladder near her, hidden behind a huge tank. She climbed it, reaching the top of the tank. She looked for him and saw him getting up the stairs and walking fast toward her. Somehow, he had seen her. She walked around the tank to go behind it. He was approaching. She could hear the steel floor sound getting closer. He was closing on her and she had no way out. Just in case, she opened her bag and took the memory card off all her devices and put it into a small pocket off her catsuit. At least, she would lose her gadgets, but not the data.
As before, she grabbed some tubing and pulled herself up on top of the reservoir but, when she released, it was too late: this reservoir had NO cover! She fell in it, losing grip of her duffel bag at the same time. The sound of her hitting the surface of the liquid was almost none, as the liquid was somewhat viscous. She went down over her head. While flapping her arms to try to swim, she hit something on the side of the tank and grabbed a hold of it. It was like a handle, and she pulled her head out. Turned out there was some kind of inside ladder. It was smelling bad, but she still had to hide.
In the process, she had dropped her duffel bag which made a loud noise hitting the walkway grating. The guard was quick on her.
Karen was breathing loudly, trying to get some of the gooey stuff out of the mask in front of her mouth and nose. She somewhat succeeded at it but each time she breathed, some of it was entering her mouth and nostrils. She felt the liquid seep into her catsuit, even down her boots. It was quite hot, like a hot Jacuzzi. She heard his footsteps. He was getting close. She saw a shadow: he had found the duffel bag and he was checking in the reservoir. She took a deep breath and with the help of the handle/ladder, she pushed herself down the liquid.
She felt it soak her head through the spandex hood, enter her ears. She was glad her eyes were somewhat protected by the lenses. Then it occurred to her: is this thing toxic? Well, if it was, she would have been screaming of pain now, yet she felt good, almost comfortable. She had no way to see if he was gone or not. She held her breath for as long as possible. With all her training, this sums up to close to a minute, then she slowly pulls herself up, expecting to see a gun barrel pointing at her. Her eyes went out, but the goo was still stuck to the lenses, then her nose. She exhaled with a short but powerful blast to clear the spandex from the liquid. When she breathed in again, she got air but also a lot of the liquid entering her nose. The same with her mouth. It entered and as she tried to get rid of it, it seemed to stick to the inside of her mouth. The smell was like very old tires, so was the taste, although she imagined what old tires would taste like.. The goo slowly ran off her lenses and she was able to see. He wasn’t there.
Carefully, she pulled herself out of the tank and thanks to the inside ladder, was easily able to get off it. Her duffel bag was gone. She was dripping this liquid which turned out to be pitch black, almost like tar. She would leave a hell of a trace to follow, dripping her path. She wiped off all she could but her spandex suit was heavy soaked in it. It felt almost oily. When she rubbed her crotch, it aroused her.
“Not now, Karen. Time to get out!” she said to herself.
She spotted a duct access 20ft away and made a move for it. In no time, she was in and began to crawl out. There was a grill and she could see the guard, waiving his IR camera toward her. She was caught then… he swiped her camera on her position twice, back and forth, but it didn’t seemed to register anything. He went to swipe the duct farther away. Was the coating rendering her invisible to the IR?
She crawled toward the exit. Ahead, a row of UV lights. Karen went through it but since they were fluorescent tubes, and that there was some on the bottom of the duct, she had to go over them carefully so as not to break them.
As she crawled over, she had the distinct impression that her suit was getting tighter, a lot tighter. As she was halfway through, she touched her hands together: it had dried up!
“Well, if this coating gives me IR invisibility, I’ll keep that suit!” she said, crawling back to get more exposure to the UV lights. Yes, the suit was tightening somehow, but she actually liked it. She slowly crawled over it, then headed for the exit. It was a standard exit with a 90 degrees curved elbow. She let herself drop into the soft pile of snow. It didn’t feel cold as she expected it. Whatever that coating was, it was hiding her from IR sensors, and keeping her warm. She should market this thing!
As she struggled to get out of the snow, she felt stiffer.
“Apparently, it doesn’t like the cold too much.” she said to herself.
She was out, an IR detector right over her, green lighted. She was invisible!
She ran out the way she came in. The suit had stiffened but was still manageable. It was as if she had all the flexibility of her spandex suit, but more rigid. It felt like rubber. Thick rubber.
She ran to her SUV. It hasn’t been detected. She drove off, all lights off, and drove almost half an hour before stopping in an isolated road. She hadn’t been followed. She hadn’t been discovered. She was safe. Time to get her hood off so she could go back home.
She searched for the seam between her suit and the hood, but the rubbery coating had concealed everything. She took a pocket knife from the glove compartment and using the small sunshade mirror, tried to cut it. No avail. The blade was only stretching it as if it was a dull blade. And more, it seemed to be stuck to her neck.
She drove home, put her long coat and went to her apartment. Luckily, in the middle of the night, she saw no one. They were probably all sound asleep.
That was too much excitement. She let herself drop on the bed. She was feeling the suit massage her with every breath, every movement. It had somehow softened a little, but it was still rather stiff. She gently rocked her hips up and down, feeling her tight crotch, putting her hands down. Before she knew it, she was orgasming and fell asleep.
The sun was warming her black rubber coating. She woke up, feeling great, but tightly enclosed. She got up slowly, and when she saw herself in the mirror, she startled. She was one tall, shiny, pitch black, curvaceous female body! She looked like one of the Bane character from RubberMatt
“Okay, time to get out of this.” she muffled from her closed mouth behind the now tightly restricting hood.
She went to the mirror and took a sharp knife. She carefully cut it but was afraid to cut her skin as it was very tight. She even had the impression that it was glued to her skin.
“Better start somewhere else than cutting your own throat.” she said.
She tried to grab a pinch of it on her stomach, but couldn’t. She figured that by sucking her stomach in as much as she could, she would get some slack to grab a hold of, so she did, sucked her stomach as much as she could, letting all the air out of her lungs, then tried to grab a piece of the rubbery fabric, but it was as if he had followed her skin. She couldn’t pull on it without feeling her skin being pulled at the same time.
She let go of her stomach muscles but… the suit kept that last state, stomach crushed! She tried the reverse, pushing outward with her stomach muscles, but the suit wouldn’t expand. It acted like a corset.
She was on the verge of panic. She had to get out of this! She took the knife and carefully cut the suit over her arm, small layer by small layer. She reached her skin, she barely scratched, but the suit was firmly attached, almost fused, merged with it. She put the sharp knife down and was looking for a butter knife, less dangerous, to try to unglue the suit from her skin, but couldn’t find where she had cut it. Puzzled, she made another try. Within 15 seconds, the cut was closed. The suit was kind of self-repairing.
She needed to eat, to go to the bathroom. She went to the mirror, took the knife, opened her mouth as much as she could behind the hood and carefully cut an opening. To her relief, she was able to, she even stuck her tongue out, a black and shiny tongue! She shone a light in her mouth and to her frantic dismay, the rubber had coated the inside of her mouth, down to her throat! She closed her mouth and went to the kitchen to get a class of water, but when she tried to drink it, her mouth was sealed again. She had to re-open it with the knife.
Drinking was weird. She felt the cold of the water down her mouth, but didn’t feel the water itself, and didn’t taste anything.
She also needed to pee. The same phenomenon took place: the opening sealed itself off afterward. She was quick to figure out that removing her high heel boots was out of the question. She sat there, on the edge of her bath, looking at the mirror at this shiny, sleek, sexy pitch black body, reflecting the lights, and wondered… She was stuck in this!
She had to come to the final conclusion. She walked to her computer and browsed the internet. She looked at sex toys sites, for hollow dildos and gags. Yes, that was her only way out. Putting dildos and plugs would keep the hole of the suit open, but would probably set the toys up permanently. She didn’t know.
One thing was sure: she was becoming a living rubber doll. The thought made her wet.
© Pete / monsterp63, January 1, 2016
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