He entered the large house. The door was locked, but he had the key. After all, they have been high school sweethearts, lovers, they even lived together for a while, but Karen was a career woman, and her career took priority over her love for him.
But they have stayed best friends. Living alone, Karen would always keep the door locked. He knew it was no problem to enter without knocking. After all, it was saturday afternoon. The worse, she would be sleeping. He knew she was there, her car was in the garage.
“Hello?” he discretely said, not too loud, in case she was sleeping.
He walked the large house, climbing on the second floor, to the bedroom. He heard moaning. Strange moanings.
As he reached the wide opened bedroom door, he startled.
Karen was there, moaning. He rushed to her, seeing her predicament, then stopped and looked carefully.
She was enclosed in a shiny rubber catsuit, her feet in strange pointed toes things, like ballet shoes but in boots form. She was tied up with leather cuffs at the ankles, knees and wrists. She was tied into a loose hogtie, lying on her side.
Her head, also covered by rubber, was letting her long curly hairs flow between the junction of the hood and the suit, in a ponytail. That’s how he was sure it was Karen.
She was blindfolded and gagged. Only soft moans could be heard, along with some vibrations, coming from her crotch, and a regular tap… tap… tap… She seemed unaware of his presence.
The bed has been covered with a thin plastic sheet, like the one used to cover the floor when painting. On the ceiling, was a rope with a set of keys held by a bunch of ice cubes in a nylon stocking through some steel loop. It was melting, one drop falling about every second on the plastic sheet.
He knew what it was. He just never saw one before: a self bondage session with an ice lock. After all those years, he never knew that side of Karen.
He left the room and went downstairs.
Karen was gently squirming. The water was dropping at the lowest point of the plastic sheet, created by her body. She could feel the ice cold water accumulating under her latex clad body, creating a strange sensation.
The random vibration fired again, this time, that was it. She exploded, an orgasm like she liked. Powerful, almost uncontrollable, amplified by the short breathing created by her crushing corset. As if on cue, she felt something heavy drop on the bed. She rolled on her back and felt around until she found the key ring.
She struggled to find the right key: there were four, but only one was working, to free her wrists. She removed the blindfold and the large panel ball-gag and smiled at the pool of drool under her head. Yeah, that had been an excellent session. A look at the alarm clock and it revealed she had been bound for well over an hour.
She removed the other restraints and happily walked to the master bedroom attached bathroom for a long shower. When she got out, she put on metallic blue yoga pants and a torn-down crop top, and walked downstairs. She needed a fruit smoothie.
Upon walking in the kitchen, she spotted someone in the living room.
“Oh… Hi, Phil. Sorry, I was in the shower, didn’t hear you coming. Err… Been here long?”
“Long enough.” he answered softly, looking in front of him, away from Karen.
“Oh… So… You saw… me…”
“Yes, I saw you.” he said turning toward her. “We lived together for 3 years, and you never mentioned anything like that to me. Were you doing that… secretly.. At that time?”
“Ah… no, I wasn’t. I discovered that… hum… side of me, about two years ago.”
“I don’t really need to know the details, Karen. I…”
“No wait. Please. I know you won’t judge me. Let me explain. Have a coffee.” she said, getting the Keurig coffee maker ready.
He sat with her at the dining table. She was rolling back and forth her glass of fruit smoothie in between her hands.
“You know me… I like to direct, control, and be in charge. I want to lead.”
“And you’re very good at it. Look at what you have.” he said, making a broad gesture showing her huge house where she was living alone, simply because she could afford it.
“Yes, but then, one night I couldn’t sleep, I was searching my cloud storage for something, when, I don’t know what I did, it gave me web results. I know my name is not that uncommon, but I stumbled on a story with my name on it, well Karen on it. It was…, well…, it was a fetish story. I liked it. I liked what that Karen was living through. I found a whole website full of her stories, and the more I read them, the more I wanted to be that Karen, bound up, restrained, enslaved, transformed into a rubber doll. Yes, the control freak that I am was getting aroused by not being able to control anything. Crazy right?
So I began to look around, and bought some stuff, then it grew to what I now have. Not that much, just a catsuit, a hood, a gag, a corset, ballet boots and a few toys. Sometimes, when I have the time and the occasion, I make myself a little session of self bondage, where I’m not in control… sort of.”
He had listened to her, looking at her eyes sparkles, not saying a word.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you. Maybe I am. I need a break, some vacations… or a shrink.”
“Yes.. maybe or… maybe not. I mean, you’re not the first or the only one, otherwise there wouldn’t be all those stores and sites with that kinky stuff all over, wouldn’t they?”
“No, I guess not. But I mean, I love to be in control, to lead. Look at what I’ve built of my life. I’m 32 years old and I could retire tomorrow and live a comfortable life until I die, but what would I do? I want to lead but at the same time…”
“You get turned on by not leading, by someone else being in control.”
“Yeah, silly, right?.”
They kept silent for a long moment, each sipping its respective drink. Then Karen lit up.
“Hey, I have an idea. I have some vacation coming up. I have nothing planned… well, I do, but that would be much better. What if you took control?”
“Me… euh…. Me… What? How…. Err what??”
“What if YOU take control, what if YOU become my…. Master?”
“What? Woah… I’m not that kind and I… besides, I work… and you have your self-bondage setup.”
“No. I still control too much. I mean, I decide when I do it, how I do it, what I do and even the time I do it by the size of the ice cubes. I need someone else to be in control, someone I could trust, I want you to be in control.”
“But I’ll be gone all day, and…”
“That’s fine. You set me up in the morning, and I have to cope with it until you come back. You decide the setup and you can come back right after work or later. You’re in charge. Oh, please, say yes, that will help me figure it all out.”
“I’ll… think about it, okay? When is your vacation?”
“In one month.”
“Yeah, I should be around… I’ll call you. I have to go now.” he said, standing up, giving her the usual friendly kiss and leaving. He seemed preoccupied.
Karen sat back, almost sobbing. “I really screw it up… I’m so stupid…”.
Out of the blue, she texted Phil the website of the stories (coincidentally, https://mp63storiesand3d.art.blog/).
After he was gone, she was on the internet, browsing, putting stuff in a shopping basket… just in case.
Sunday afternoon, she was laying by the pool when she received a SMS from Phil. “Okay, I’ll do it, but we need rules. When can I come by?”
“NOW” was the answer.
The rules have been laid out, plain, clear, without any reading between the lines. They called it the Rule Book
“You understand that this is to protect both of us, right?”
“Oh, fully. I totally agree.” she said, signing the document. “I can’t wait. I have so much stuff to order, to get ready… You’re still my handyman, right?” she said with a wink, giving him a list. “I need this from the hardware store, and… can you build these?” she said, producing a bunch of drawings.
“Ah… wow! Never saw that coming… You want… All of it done? That’s a lot of work to be done in 3 weeks.”
“You do what you can. They are in order of priority.” she said with a smile a little girl would have given out a list of candy to get.
For the next 3 weeks, Phil was regularly at her house, building stuff, in short, building a dungeon.
A basic scenario had been laid out, but it was leaving a lot of doors open. Karen had put on her brand new neck entry catsuit with two pouches at the crotch. She had fitted herself with an urethral catheter and an enema plug. That way, her dildos would be locked in with a chastity belt. Phil will have the control.
She had bought a tighter corset to fit under the chastity belt, locking it in place. She had cut her hair short to fit under the tight hood, which was a multi-part, on which many attachments could be fixed, at Phill’s will. She was then locked with a posture collar, elbow and wrist wide leather cuffs, thigh, knee and ankle cuffs, the latter one locking her ballet boots in place. All those were put on tightly and locked. The keys were put into a timed safe that would open the last saturday morning. Not before.
There was a set of spare keys. They were placed in a steel box with some flash paper and $10000. If the box was opened without the protective cover over the money, which was inside the timed safe, the flash paper would set the one bills for $10000 on fire.
So, any emergency would cost Karen $10000…
It was friday evening. Karen wanted to start as soon as possible. She had put on most of the items before Phil arrived. He was needed to tighten the corset and then to lock the chastity belt.
They were both standing close to the safe, in Karen’s walk in closet, installed at eye level, Karen fully tied up, arms in her back, elbow touching, legs linked with a very short chain, keeping her balance by shifting her weight from one feet to the other.
“Well, all set. Really ready to go through this, Karen?” he asked.
She hobbled close to the safe, as if to check, then with her head, gave a strong swing to the door which closed with a loud metallic clank.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” said Phil, turning the handle, sealing her fate.
There it was set. For two weeks. In a way, she still had some control. Two weeks wasn’t that long, and after two weeks, she would be free.
He tugged on her leash.
“Time to go to bed, now… you brand new bed.” he said, leading her to the dungeon.
The “bed” was a narrow bench covered in soft padded leather, and with D ring everywhere all around it. It had been made especially for her hands in her back, fitting into a padded hole. Once she was on it, Phil linked her ankles and knees cuffs together then took straps and linked the outside ring of them to the bench, pulling as hard as she could, making Karen unable to move at all. He linked the side rings of the chastity belt the same way, then wrapped a large leather strap over her shoulders, pinning her down, and finally, linked a strap to the top ring of her head harness panel ball-gag.
“Okay, try to get off.” he said.
Karen squirmed, but nothing moved. She realized the severity of the setup for the first time. In her self bondage sessions, she had to leave some play on her bounds, to be able to get free, but this time, it was out of her control. Totally.
Phil walked away. She moaned.
“Mmmoooyyy.” she mumbled.
“Toys?” he said laughing. “Why should you be rewarded? You did nothing, nor positive, nor negative. It’s in the rule book: good behavior is rewarded, bad is punished. You only dressed up and went to bed. So, you’re not punished or rewarded. Good night Karen.
“You’re not in charge anymore, and this grunt is noted as bad behavior for tomorrow’s score.” he said, walking upstairs.
He would have a look at her through security cameras, and Karen was always having access in her panic buttons. There was one in every device Phil built. But it was a $10000 shot.
She liked her setup. She had devised it after all. She squirmed gently, feeling the tight rubber catsuit wrapping every parcel of her skin, fight against any muscle movement. She felt the tight leather cuffs, holding her firmly in place. She felt them creak as she tested them, rather than hear them, her hearing impaired by the latex hood.
She chewed on the large gag filling her mouth. She tried to take a deep breath but the crushing corset prevented her from doing so. She liked everything.
She eventually dozed off.
Then, all this tightness, all this immobility began to take its toll. Her muscles were getting cramped. She wanted to move.
But couldn’t. .
The tight latex was fun at first, but now, it seemed as it was tightening by the minute. She wanted it off.
But she couldn’t.
The tight corset was awesome to look at, how her waist was forced to be shaped by it. But now, she was longing for a long breath. Her lungs wanted one. Her brain wanted one.
But she couldn’t.
She squirmed. She would have loved to have access at some kind of time device, to know what time it was, how much longer she would have to stay like that. Surely, it was close to sunrise.
But she couldn’t.
The real fact was, she had been setup only one hour ago…
She struggled stronger, trying to attract Phil’s attention, hoping he was nearby. She wanted out. She was not ready to push the panic button, but she was close. Thinking about it. But what a failure she would be, abandoning on the first night.
No. She was not in control anymore. She had to wave that panic button out of her mind. It was exactly that: a panic button. What she was feeling was what she was seeking: not being in control of what was happening to her.
Then, suddenly, all her troubles were gone. All the aches of her gag, the tight corset, the tight suit, the bindings, all disappeared in an instant, when the dildos fired.
When Pil got to her in the morning, she was a wreck, having barely slept.
“Okay, according to the book here, I’m to plug the bladder release and the enema system.” he said, putting the book down.
Yes, all that were welcomed, but she would have loved to be untied first. Then again, she was not in charge, and she couldn’t give orders.
He took her off the bed and, with her ankles linked with a small chain, led her upstairs, in the kitchen. Then, again, following what Karen had written, he linked her elbows with a chain just long enough so that they could reach equal to the side of her body, then her wrists with a 30cm chain.
“Okay. You’re to make breakfast. It’s Saturday morning. I want the whole treat: 2 eggs, bacon, ham, sausages, hashbrowns, a glass of orange juice and a coffee to start.”
Karen looked at him with wide eyes.
“Oh, and some french toasts for dessert… Come on, step on it.” he said, pointing to the kitchen.
Wow. That wasn’t planned. Karen was usually having a bowl of cereal and Phil simple toasts for breakfast. She never expected to make something as extensive as that. Not the first day. Actually, she never made breakfast like that. She didn’t know how to make french bread!
She made the coffee and poured the orange juice. She discovered at the same time that Phil had filled up the refrigerator. She would cook like never before.
She worked at it, cooking the ham, the hashbrowns, the bacon, the sausages. All this on ballet boots.
Most of the time, she had worn them in bed, or for short walks in the house. Never to perform tasks like that. It was taking its toll.
She was barely able to bring him the plate with his breakfast. Her feet were hurting. As soon as she put the plate down, she pulled a chair and sat besides him, letting out a long moan, spreading her legs to release her aching feet.
Phil, who was taking a bite, stopped chewing and stared at her. She answered by pointing her feet.
“They ache?” he asked. She nodded.
“You had all the time to think about that, Karen. Now, they’re locked on, and the only way out will cost you ten grans. It’s your choice. But, as a slave, you have no right to sit at the same table as mine, especially without being invited. Get up!”
Karen nodded no and pointed to her feet.
Phil filled his mouth as much as he could with his breakfast, got up and pulled on Karen’s leash, heading downstairs.
Karen tried to protest, but it didn’t change a thing. In pain, she followed, barely able to make it. He grabbed the winch and lowered the wire to the ground. He helped her sit on the ground, linked the hook to her ankle cuffs then operated the winch to raise her in the air, completely. He grabbed a leather strap and tied her arms in front of her.
“I’ll be back later. Rest those feet, you have more tasks to do.”
Yes, her feet were relaxing, her head, not as much…
Phil used her Rules Book to give her the tasks. Not in the order she had written them, and not exactly what she had written. She wanted to be out of control, she was. Sort of. He had to follow the basic scenario she had written. She was tied to a cross, a stock, put in a small cage, tied in different ways, she had a ball and loved every minute of them.
By the end of the three weeks, she could stand a whole day on her ballet boots without problems.
So much that when she went back to work, her working heels, 3 inches high, were giving her problems… They were not high enough!
And the removal of the corset was painful, in the sense that she missed it. She began to wear one underneath her clothes, getting it tighter every month, telling everybody she was following a strict diet. Once at home, she would get in a latex catsuit and ballet boots. She just loved it. She had a plan.
On Christmas, she invited Phil for a quiet evening. They exchanged small gifts. Then, Karen gave one to him. Looked like a book. He opened it and smiled when he saw “Rules to Follow” in gold letters. He opened it, read the first page and flipped quickly the rest of the 50 or so pages book.
“I… I don’t get it. What does it mean?”
“It’s simple. I will take a one year leave of absence. Everything is setup. It will start on May first. Then, for one year, I will be your slave. During that time, you do what’s written on the first page, you will have access to my finances to make sure everything is taken care of. I have a few transactions that need to be done in person and, well, I wouldn’t be able to attend, so included a letter where I give you all authorities to represent myself, and all the access codes for everything.”
“Yeah, I get that… but the rest, it’s all blank pages.”
“Simple: no rules. No setup. No scenario. Only one universal rule: trust.” she said. “So, are you up to it?”
“But… That’s one year, Karen. Yeah, okay you came up fine after 3 weeks, but this is 52 weeks, it’s what, 20 times longer? Sure you could pull it through? And what if you don’t? The last time, you were ready to burn 10 grans. How much this time?
“Because there’s no panic button rule here. Only medical emergency or life threatening circumstances. The situation is fixed and I’m back in it. I will be a rubber slave. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Geesh, I don’t know. And to make matters worse, I will move to the production floor, meaning I’ll be on rotating work shifts.”
“Even better! That way, there won’t be regularity. Each week will be different than the previous one.”
“Think about it. Go read more of those stories. They will give you some ideas, I’m sure.”
“I’ll… I’ll leave the book here.” he said, putting it on a shelf in the book cabinet of the living room. “I’ll take it when ready, okay?”
One week later, he went to see her. He wasn’t surprised to find her, vacuuming the house, in a purple latex catsuit, hooded, gagged, with ballet boots, feet bounds and hands tied together, the keys in the timed safe.
He knew that she couldn’t stop for him. If she was to stop moving the broom, or unplugged it from the central vacuum to stop it, she would get zapped. He knew it because he built the devices.
He simply walked to the living room, took the Rules Book, showed it to Karen, gave a “thumbs up” and walked off.
Karen was so overwhelmed by the joy that she dropped the broom to run to hug him, letting out a loud yelp from behind her gag as the tens unit fired, punishing her.
“That’s gonna be a very special year.” said Phil.
Karen grinned as the tubes were fed up her nose. That was not the best of feeling.
“Do not complain. You asked for it.” said the woman inserting them. It was Lynda, a friend from work, actually, the resident nurse of her workplace.
She had learned about Karen’s little stunts after she showed up with bruises around her neck. Lynda confronted her, to admit that she had been abused, and those were strangulation marks. Karen had to come clean on her. The truth was out.
So, when she decided to go “fully geared up” for one year, she asked Lynda to do some of the procedure.
Already, she had been butt plugged, catheter in her urethra, feeding tube, and finally, the breathing tubes through her nose.
“I’ll come every week. If you feel any discomfort, or pain, you will tell me. I don’t care about your fantasies, but I will make everything to protect you. Is that clear?” the blonde woman asked Karen with a very firm voice.
Karen nodded yes. Actually, she was feeling discomfort, but she had to deal with it. Having tubes is not the most comfortable thing.
“One last thing. You said you planned to be like that pretty much to the last day before coming back to work. I strongly advised against it. You would need to get your feeding tube out for at least a month to regain your voice and re-learn to chew and eat again. You’ll thank me.”
Phil arrived with a black, neck entry, latex catsuit with attached gloves and feet and proceeded to feed it on her. Lynda gave a hand to have Karen fully in it. They completed the catsuit with a latex hood, with dark lenses. It only had nose holes. At the mouth, there was a double layered sleeve that slid over the feeding tube, letting it protrude out of the hood.
Phil placed the large yoke of the hood under the neck of the catsuit, then took a small hand pump and plugged its needle to the side of the tube and began to pump, looking at Karen’s cheeks expand as her mouth opened, being filled by the blow-up gag.
He stopped when Karen nodded that it was enough. He did a similar inflation to other bags
Next was the corset, crushingly tight. He laced as much as he could: there was still 2cm to go to close it completely.
He indicated to Karen to sit, and proceeded with the ballet boots, her favorites. He laced them tightly before putting a padlock at the very last lace eyelets, then another point on the foot. Then it was the leather cuffs, locked. More leather cuffs were added over the knees, wrists and over the elbow, and of course, a large collar. All locked.
He went back to the corset and pulled hard to close it. Under her dark lenses, Karen was having wide eyes: that brand new corset, she had received the week before, was really tight, constricting and awfully rigid, clasping her from the hips to the armpits. Phil completed the outfit by a steel chastity belt.
Finally, he put a short chain at her ankles, knees, drew her arms in her back and linked them together at the wrists and elbows.
“There! All set. You get one year of that.” he said, laughing.
“Are you alright?” asked Lynda to Karen, who responded by an affirmative nod. “Very well then. I should go now.” she said, turning to Phil. “If there’s anything wrong, you get her out of that and you call me. If necessary, I know a doctor that wouldn’t not turn away and run if he sees someone setup like that.” she said with a smile.
“Noted.” said Phil. “Let me walk with you to the door.” he said, but before going, he snapped Karen’s collar and dragged her backward to the wall, where he fixed it to a ring. Karen had a hard time following, walking backward, with her short chain, but she couldn’t do anything, not even protest. She was not in control. She liked it.
He then left her there and walked back upstairs the dungeon with Lynda, friendly chatting.
“Geesh, it’s almost lunch time. Would you care to stay?” he asked as they reached the door.
“I… I wouldn’t want to intrude. You probably have a lot to do with Karen.”
“Actually, not really. She’s… self sufficient. So, lunch for two it is. I’ll go get Karen to fix us something.” he said, inviting Lynda to sit.
He was back a few minutes later with Karen in tow. He led her to the kitchen and linked her arms in front of her, chaining them to her chastity belt, limiting her movements. He linked her collar to a long chain hanging from a ring fixed to the ceiling of the kitchen, allowing her to reach pretty much everything, as long as it was pulling on her collar.
“Two sandwiches and two coffees”. He ordered.
Karen felt it was missing something, a thank you, a please, something. But nothing was added. She was a rubber slave, and she was there to execute. Period.
A few minutes later, Karen rang the bell signaling that the meal was ready. Phil got up, and simply unlinked her collar, then came back to the dining room. He was not to carry the food. That was Karen’s job. She knew the drill, he had begun doing that during her 3 weeks vacations.
Karen took a serving tray and brought everything to the table, then stood still between Phil and Lynda, waiting for the next order. Phil bent over and linked her ankles to a ring on the floor, then using a double quick-snap, shortened her wrist chain by linking the cuffs directly to the D ring of the chastity belt.
They began to eat. Karen was slowly balancing from one foot to the other, to ease the pressure on her ballet booted feet, creating a regular creaking leather and rubber noise, as she shifted her weight, breathed, well… live.
Phil ate his sandwich, very slowly. Lynda was done, while he was about only half way, asking questions about her job, and wanting her to recall silly situations she went through, as if to extend her stay. At first, Lynda was almost trying to look away from Karen, but as the meal went on, she was looking at her more and more, staring at her corset, at her shiny tightly enclosed body, looking down at her boots.
“Well, I should really be going, now.” she said, getting up. Phil walked her to the door.
“You have my number, right? Do not hesitate. I don’t want any harm done to Karen.” she said.
“And you have my number too.” said Phil. “I’ll take good care of her. No worries.” he said before closing the door.
He walked back to Karen, removed the quick link to her wrists and untied her from the floor.
“I’m going to work in six hours. I’ll get a nap.” he said, leaving her. She knew what she had to do: clean the dishes and the kitchen, and look up the list of tasks that Phil had prepared.
She knew how it would be, she had done it a few months earlier. But she was not intubated for feeding. She was not intubated for breathing. She could get her gag out to eat. She wasn’t to be in there for 11 months. She got hot at the thoughts!
She looked at the list, picked up the duster and went to work.
Time to put the flowers, get the garden ready. Karen was eager to work outside. It would be a nice change from her daily routines inside the house. As pretty much every time he wasn’t there, she was fixed with a short hobble chain and her wrists linked to her chastity belt with a chain long enough to allow her to do some chores.
She hobbled her way to the garden shed. That was not easy on the stone walkway, but it was a blast. She had to constantly adjust her balance. To help, Phil had her put on wedge boots, more suitable to walk on soft ground than her regular ballet boots or anything with a spiky heel. Although it was early morning, the sun was shining hard on her black rubber suit, heating it up, making her sweat.
Her force hobbled walk was wreaking havoc with her huge dildo plugs. She took a bucket and filled it with tools, put it in the wheelbarrow, along with the flowers Phil bought the day before, then added a pair of gardening gloves over her latex hands.
That’s when she hit the first snag: she couldn’t reach both handles at the same time. Well, there was only one solution: carry everything one item at a time. She began with the tools. The 10 meters walk between the shed and where she was to work, was very disturbing. She was being kept on the edge all the time, without jumping the fence. She came back with a styrofoam container with a bunch of flowers in it, ready to be put down, but mid way through, the random firing setup for the dildos decided to turn on.
She twitched so hard that she dropped the flower case, breaking it, and sending dirt and flowers everywhere, including on her suit! She, herself, ended up kneeling as the first of many orgasms to come exploded.
The hot sun, the sweat, the vibrations. Damn! That was good.
She picked up the pieces as she could. It was not possible for her to use a small broom and a dustpan to pick the dirt up. She had to leave it there and use a big broom to sweep it off the rocky walkway.
At destination, she kneeled again in the dirt, and began to work, by leaning on one side to be able to dig. She would have to ask Phil for longer chains. This was not going well.
She crouched on her wedge heels, turned to get more tools, and as she stretched again, lost balance and landed her knee on a large stone, on which sharp pebbles were laying. It hurt her knee like hell, and she quickly rose up, trying to rub it. She crouched down again, and suddenly, she felt a cold rush on her knee and thigh. She looked down and realized in horror that her suit had ripped off, from the knee to mid thigh.
Well, that wasn’t good. Only one month and she had gone through one suit. Phil wasn’t to be home for another 8 hours. She tried to continue to work, but it only widened the tear. She had to find a way to stop it, to close it. She went back to the garden shed. She was sure she had some tape, somewhere… and she found it. A full roll of grey duct tape.
She stretched a length and cut it between her fingers, then tried to apply it over the tear. But as soon as the duct tape touched the latex, it stuck to it, and when she tried to pull it off to place it correctly, it widened the tear.
She had to press it on, even tho it was not at the right place. Then she tried another one, which didn’t go much better.
Ten minutes later, she had a mess of criss crossing tape on her leg, from the hip to her knee. And she still had to work on her flowers…
She took a few pieces and taped them over the other knee. She knew the suit was trashed anyway, so. She figured the tape would prevent her other knee from ripping open.
And she went back to work.
At the end of the day, when Phil came back from work, he was in shock.
“Damn! It’s only been one month and you went through one suit. I think you will be confined inside.”
Karen nodded a frantic no. She didn’t want to be stuck inside for one year. There had to be a way.
“I’ll think of something. In any case, your suit patched like that doesn’t look very good. I’ll go get the roll of tape and fix it properly.” he said
He walked, not to the garden shed, but to the garage to come back with three industrial sized rolls of duct tape, and began to wrap Karen at the ankles, pulling on the tape as much as he could.
Half an hour later, Karen had been mummified in duct tape from neck to toe, preserving her hood. She was stiff walking, heading to the kitchen, trying to figure out how the hell was she to prepare any meal, stuck like that. Then the dildos fired. The tape cocooned concentrated the vibration energy. She lost her balance, tried to grab a hold of the nearest door frame but missed it, and ended up on the floor, face first. Phil was quick to her, but then, he realized that she had both hands near her crotch (she was unable to reach it) and trying to rock her hips, which, cocooned like that, she ended up swinging from knee to breasts.
Laughing, he walked back to the living room. His dinner will have to wait.
From the distance, he witnessed Karen becoming more frustrated by the second. She was stimulated like hell, but an orgasm was out of reach, apparently. He watched her struggle to get back up. He could only imagine what was going through her mind.
He was very far from the truth.
An hour later, dinner was ready. It was awful, in every sense. He looked at her.
“You know, I had the belief that being intubated was a drawback, because you have no way to taste what you’re eating. I now regret that I could not force you to taste that! This is simply infect, disgusting.”
Karen stood there, not moving. Every breath created a creaking noise of the tape.
He led her to the dungeon, and took more tape, and wrapped her, egyptian mummy style, before tying her on a table, adding a blindfold over her dark lenses.
“Enjoy.” he said, leaving her to her predicament, but not before taking the override control and turning the dildos on, full blast. He knew she would not orgasm unless she could move somewhat. She would be a wreck the next day.
He had plugged her enemas and feeding tube, but had also left her fully mummified, but turned off the dildos. He would be gone for over 12 hours! That pretty much meant 12 hours of sensory deprivation. Which wasn’t that bad. She needed the rest. She just needed to move a little. Just a little. But the tight tape prevented everything. She could only breath.
Suddenly, she felt someone was moving some of the hoses around. She felt being fed, then, nothing… For a long time.
Finally, more fondling on her plugs. They were getting unplugged, removed. She felt her tape cocoon being tugged, her boots being taken off. Then her chastity belt was removed and her corset loosened. She suddenly felt a rush of fresh air on her body as the suit was cut open.
She took a deep breath, which hurt. After all, her ribs had been compressed no-stop for the past month. She stayed still as the suit was cut-off from her body. Her blindfold was removed and she saw Phil, gathering the different pieces of the trashed catsuit and duct tape, while Karen waited, sitting on the table, feet dangling.
He came back with a black plastic bag and a large cardboard box. He put the box on the ground and got a brand new purple neck entry Fantastic Rubber latex catsuit from the black bag. Karen knew what she had to do and quickly proceeded to put it on. It had attached feet and gloves. She almost felt relief when it slid on her shoulders, sealing her in its tight embrace. She had missed the catsuit, even only for a couple of minutes.
He put back the corset, easily tightening it to its previous crushing size, Karen’s waist not having the time to relax too much.
Karen closed her eyes. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted that tight squeeze. She just loved it. He finished the setup by putting the chastity belt back on.
He opened the cardboard box and retrieved a heavy, thick catsuit with a long zipper. Karen recognized it as a shiny Pipe-Nineteen triathlon wetsuit. Phil took the legs in his hands and folded them at the knee, showing them to Karen.
“They have been reinforced with a layer of industrial rubber. THIS is what you will wear, from now on, for any gardening work.” he said, opening the zipper and instructing Karen to step in.
Even tho the inside was already lubed, it was a tight fit. A very tight fit. He pulled hard on the back zipper. He had the suit modified to follow her extra-curvy body. She felt the pressure of the suit all over her body, rendering breathing even more difficult than her corset since it was squishing her chest to an almost flat shape. He added neoprene gloves, then asked her to sit back on the table while he put on wedge boots. He locked them in place, then added cuffs at her knees, elbows and wrists before linking everything with short chains, impairing her movements.
He locked the collar and pulled on the leash to get outside. He led her to the unfinished flower landscaping.
“Now you can work on your gardening stuff.” he said.
Karen opened her arms, in a “I’ll cook in this.” gesture.
“Yeah, I figured it would be hot. But you have the pool. Just go take a dip to cool off from time to time. This suit is fully buoyant, so you won’t sink.
A car drove up the long driveway to the house. Karen was about to run to hide, but Phil was quicker.
“Oh! Lynda. You’re early!” he said, walking to the car, leaving Karen behind, as if she didn’t exist.
“Hi Phil. Hi Karen. Nice wetsuit!” she said approaching them. “Ready Phil?”
“In a few minutes. I just finished setting up Karen. I’ll be right back.” he said, going into the house.
“I’m bringing my sister’s 3 kids to the zoo today and I asked Phil to join me to give me a hand as they are quite… energetic.”
“I’m ready.” he said, walking out of the house in shorts and a T-Shirt. “You have your chores for the day, Karen. See you later.” he said, getting into Lynda’s car, leaving Karen alone.
She felt left-out. She would have liked for him to ask her to join them… yeah, right, she thought, looking down at her setup. She had no saying, no decision, no control. She loved it. Even more when the random setting of her dildos firing.
Kneeling, getting back up, walking on all four, proved exhausting inside the tight neoprene wetsuit. She needed to cool off.
She got up and walked faster and faster until she was practically running on her wedge high heel boots, then jumped in the middle of the large pool, making a loud splash that only she heard.
A few seconds later, the coolness of water had seeped through the neoprene and had reached her latex layer. She could finally cool off.
She stayed there, floating on her back, being rocked by the waves she created herself. A soft wind was pushing her to one side. After a few minutes, feeling much better, she struggled in the water to swim to the nearest ladder to climb out, and walked back to her flowers, leaving a long wet trail behind her.
She was dripping over her flowers, and the water provided relief for a while before the sun had the best over her suit, and she was back into the pool.
By noon, she had soaked two dozen times. Now, she was exhausted and dozing off, gently floating. A small cloud would provide some shade from time to time.
Problem was, her back was cool, but her front was hot as hell, being all black. But if she was to turn on her stomach, she would have her breathing tube in the water.
She managed to keep her head higher with some floating toys.Time went fast. She heard sharp sounds that got her out of her daze. A look at the driveway and Phil was back with Lynda. He was smiling, evidently having a good time, until he saw Karen’s mess: she hadn’t finished her flower band. All the tools were still there, dirt was covering the stone walkway. Karen was struggling to get out of the water, fast.
“You had a good time, as I can see.” he said, then he frowned. “Damn. What have you done?” he said, looking in the pool.
Karen turned around, her dark lenses were impairing her vision, but she was able to see the whole mess she had made: over half the surface of the bottom was covered by a layer of dirt She probably had dragged it with each tip, probably sticking to her boots and suit.
“I thought that Lynda and I would take a dip, but seeing that, obviously, we can’t.” he said as Lynda was getting closer, eyes wide open, looking at the mess.
“Get to work, Karen. I’m making some barbecue, and I want this cleaned when we’re done eating.”
Karen quickly got the pool vacuum hose and began to work. Although the sun was getting down, it was still hot on her layers of rubber and neoprene.
Working was hard, exhausting. She would have taken a dip herself.
As she was storing the tools, she heard two splashes as Phil and Lynda were taking a dip.
She finished her chores alone, hearing them having fun, being nothing else than the gardener, the helper… the slave. She became hot at the thought. She wondered what Phil had in mind as a punishment. She became hotter…
The punishment was a quick fix: legs bound together, arms in a reverse prayer, and a long breathing hose hooked to her breathing tubes, she was heavily weighted and dropped into the pool for the night.
The thing was, her suit and boots were not cleaned prior to going in. She knew that, her first task for the next day would be to clean the pool… again.
For the rest of her work in the garden, she was chained to a long hook screwed to the ground. She never regained access to the pool. She only had access to the garden hose.
Lynda’s visit (part 1)
Friday, just after dinner.
“… Well, sorry, it comes with the job. I’ll be gone for10 days. It’s an extensive training session.” he said to her. “Since you can’t be left alone, for obvious reasons, Lynda will take care of you… Ah?…” he said, turning to the window. “… there she is.”
A few moments later, Lynda knocked at the door. Phil opened it.
“Hell… Wow! Hot looking!” he said.
Karen was surprised by Phil’s reaction and approached the door. She startled. Lynda was there, sporting a very tight, thigh length red rubber dress with long sleeves and a black waist cincher. She was standing on 3cm platform shoes with a 15cm heel. She rubbed her buns, smiling, almost blushing.
“I got the latex underwear too!” she said, all joyous. “Karen seems to really enjoy it, so I thought I might have a go at it.”
There was the sound of a car honking.
“Well, my cab is here for the airport. Take care of each other, ladies.” he said, waving goodbye to Karen giving a kiss to Lynda and slapping her latex butt. Lynda Twitched.
“Ooooo… Have a safe trip!” she said as he closed the door, then she turned to Karen.
“I have … toys in there. That slap was…”
Karen didn’t waste a moment. She had the opportunity, she had the relative freedom, she slapped Lynda’s butt hard, three times before she was stopped.
Lynda giggled before finally walking away, holding Karen’s hand.
“Well, you need to be restrained, I believe.” she said, swiftly turning her around and snapping a quick link between her wrists cuffs, in her back. She took a strong swing and slapped Karen’s butt really hard.
Karen twitched. Phil never slapped her before, the effect was all new, and quite disturbing, considering her large plugs.
“I was on a rush to come here. Please, make me a coffee… Oh, sorry. I don’t have to be polite. Make me a coffee!” she ordered, yet, smiling.
Karen turned around to show her back to Lynda, showing her tied hands.
“That’s your problem. You’re the one who misbehaved.”
Her feet already linked by a short chain, Karen hobbled to the kitchen and struggled, with her hands in her back, to put the K-cup into the coffee machine, then put a cup underneath the spout and finally, press the button.
Then she took it carefully and hobbled back to the dining room to serve it to Lynda but she was nowhere to be found. She saw that the TV was working. She left the cup on the dining table and hobbled to the living room to find Lynda comfortably installed.
“Where’s my coffee?” she asked.
Karen pointed to the kitchen. She was forbidden to bring any food into the living room. Well, actually, that was HER rule, and Phil never broke it.
“You bring it here.”
Karen nodded no and pointed to the table again.
“Oh. Phil doesn’t want drinks in the living room?”
She was stuck. She had to tell no because SHE didn’t want any drink or food in the living room. That was HER rule. Phil never gave her the directive. He simply followed Karen’s choices.
She nodded no, then pointed again to the kitchen.
“So, no, it’s not one of Phil’s rules. So why do I have to go to the kitchen. Something wrong?”
Karen nodded no again and tried to point at herself, but with her hands tied in her back, that was not obvious.
“What? No… Kitchen… waist?… Back?… Oh! You! You. No. Kitchen. I… I think I get it. It’s YOU that doesn’t want anyone having coffee in the living room.”
Karen nodded a definitive, obvious YES.
“Well… you do not make the rules anymore. Bring me my coffee. Now.” said Lynda, looking straight at Karen.
This might have been Phil’s rule, but this was still HER house, and she didn’t want any drink spilled on her thousands of dollars italian leather furniture. She nodded a definitive no and walked back to the kitchen table, next to the cup of coffee.
Lynda stood up with a smile.
“Well, if I understand this play thing right, misbehavior means punishment. IN THE DUNGEON!” she ordered.
A few minutes later, Karen was spread on the St-Andrew’s cross.
“Perhaps a few hours there will tell you who’s in charge.” said Lynda, leaving Karen to her torments. She was tightly bound, without any… teasing. She found it difficult to accept that she was punished for respecting her own rules.
Meanwhile, Lynda had mixed feelings. It was the first time she was actually… punishing someone. She wondered if she had acted right.
She sat on the sofa, sipping her cup of coffee. As she was to put it down, she miscalculated her arm position and hit the cup, spilling half of it on the sofa.
“Ah! Shit!” She said, getting up, hurriedly getting some towels to clean it, when the phone rang.
“Hello? Oh, hi, Phil. How is it going?… Delayed?… 3 hours?… okay, no problem. Well (giggles) she’s already punished… She didn’t want to bring my coffee in the living room… what?… but that’s not one of your…. Well… I understand… it’s still her house… okay then… Take care.”
She carefully wiped the spill then walked to the dungeon. How to fix things? She had punished Karen for a wrong reason. How does a… master, fix such an error?
She slowly approached the gleaming, stretched body, lit by a dim reddish light. She could see her gently squirming. She had been like that for almost an hour. That must be stressful, uncomfortable, but she couldn’t know, having never experienced it before.
She gently touched her thigh, feeling the warmth of her body through the silky rubber. Karen responded by a slow squirm of the leg. Lynda gently slid her hand down her outer thigh, then putting a hand on each inner thigh, slowly rubbed back up, past her chastity belt, up to her corseted waist, where she used her hard and long nails to scratch the tight leather, until she reached her breasts, where she scratched some more, Karen squirming, thrusting her breasts forward.
Lynda continued, playing with her fingers, nails, squishing, pinching her breasts, her nipples, before still scratching, raised up Karen’s extended arms, scratching them up to the elbows before slowly coming back down.
Lynda felt hot. Feeling her own tight rubber dress rub against Karen’s rubber body, sliding on it, smelling it. She put her face in Karen’s chest, between her breasts, feeling the rubber on her face, licking it, trying to chew her nipple. She liked the feeling of rubber in her mouth, on her tongue. She sucked on it. Her left hand found its way to Karen’s crotch, only to be blocked by the chastity belt. She tried to insert a finger, but the belt was just too tight. Her hand then headed for her own crotch, where it lifted the tight dress and found its way to the right spot. Already, she was dripping.
The rubbing continued, Lynda caressing Karen, on her spread eagled position, rubbing her body against her, squishing her breasts. She reached her mouth again, but there was only a feeding tube and breathing tubes. Nothing really to kiss. Nevertheless, she tried to kiss her feeding tube, blocking her breathing tube doing so.
Suddenly, Karen was out of air, gasping. Oh damn! That was so good. But she needed to breathe. She began to move more abruptly. Lynda first thought she liked that but when she finally realised what was happening, she quickly released her breathing, only to block it again, with her fingers, while her other hand was busy squishing her breasts.
Karen was squirming, evidently hot, but unable to climax simply because none of the dildos were responsive. Damn, that was frustrating, but she had a plan. But in the meantime, all she could do was enjoy her current situation.
In the end, Lynda climaxed, almost dropping to her knees. She never felt an orgasm of this magnitude, and she wondered what created it: the latex, Karen’s bondage? The smell, the touch? A mix of all of it?
Slowly, she released Karen from her bondage, not taking care to tie her hands or feet back together. They walked back upstairs. Karen saw the half empty coffee cup on the counter, and quickly walked to the living room, where she spotted the still damp spot Lynda had tried to clean up. She pointed to it.
“Well… I…. I’m sorry. Phil called to say that his plane was running late and I told him what had happened and he explained to me the rule of no drinks in the living room. But it was too late. I had already made a little spill. Sorry. I cleaned it up as soon as it happened. I’m sure the leather will be fine…” said Lynda.
Karen stood there, hands on her hips, then made a gesture, pointing at Lynda and slapping her hand. Lynda went wide-eyed.
“What? You say that… I should be… punished for that?”
Karen nodded a definitive YES.
“Well… I guess I had it coming.” she said, heading to the dungeon, followed by Karen.
Lynda’s visit (part 2)
As soon as they were in, Karen put leather cuffs on Lynda’s wrists and bound them together in her back, then added a wide leather collar, which she drew very tight around Lynda’s neck, with a double buckle, and snapped a chain between it and a O-ring on the wall. Lynda realized that Karen had a lot more knowledge about boundage than she had. She had second thoughts…
Karen disappeared into a large closet to come back with a rubber mask with a hose on it. Lynda wasn’t too knowledgeable, but it appeared to her to be some kind of gas mask with circular lenses. Karen put the mask in front of Lynda’s face, gesturing to open her mouth at the same time she put it in place.
Lynda was puzzled at first, but something was pushing against her closed lips. She opened her mouth, and what felt like a deflated balloon was forced in, before the nose seal of the mask was pressed against her nose and cheeks. Karen pulled the rest of the mask over her head, putting the lenses tight against her face, before pulling on the rubber strap to tighten it in place. And she pulled them as tight as she could.
Lynda would have liked to have it less tight, but she couldn’t do anything about it.
Then Karen produced an egg shaped rubber balloon, which she put to the side of the gasmask mouthpiece and began to squeeze it.
Lynda suddenly realized that, whatever was inside her mouth, was beginning to grow, to get bigger and bigger. Karen was carefully watching her eyes, getting wider as she gag grew bigger. She stopped when she judged that Lynda had enough… For now.
The gasmask had a long breathing tube. Still looking at her eyes, she took the tube and put her latex covered hand on it, sealing it. Immediately Lynda began to struggle for air. She could move. She was quick to back off, turning her head, yanking the hose off Karen’s hand. But She understood the meaning: Karen was in control.
Karen had her backed to the wall, where there was a large padded frame with countless leather straps. She instructed Lynda to step on the footrests, forcing her to spread her legs. She fastened a strap around her waist, then, stepping on a small stepladder, unlinked her wrists from her back to quickly snap them back over her head, arms spread. Lynda could have fought it, but she was intrigued. Interested. Was she… aroused?
Karen removed her collar only to have it replaced with the attached large leather strap, which she drew very tightly, making swallowing difficult. She then proceeded to fasten the remaining leather straps, holding her arms in place, pulling them with all her strength. Then getting down, fastening straps over her breasts, tightening to the maximum the one at her waist, then thighs, knees and ankles. Once done, Lynda couldn’t move.
Karen rolled something closer. Lynda, unable to bend her neck, couldn’t see what it was, and she began to attach something to her waist and thigh straps, then something getting pressed against her double dildos.
Karen stepped on the stepladder to look at Lynda’s eyes, then flipped a switch she had in her hands.
Lynda twitched. Her static dildos were vibrating. Somehow, Karen had fixed a vibrator to her crotch and was now playing with them.
It wasn’t long before an orgasm began to build. Lynda let it come. She struggled to move, but she couldn’t do anything. She tried to get away from it, or get more weight on it, but she couldn’t move. Oh yes. It was coming. It would be strong. She closed her eyes, expecting her arrival any seconds when… everything became silent. She opened her eyes, searching. All she saw was Karen, holding the remote. She swore that, under her latex covered face, she saw her smile.
That was devilish. She tried to squirm, to provoke the vibration, but she was too tightly held. She was left there, with no stimulation. Karen was gone. Then, out of nowhere, it began to vibrate again. She could feel the vibrations in her spine, even vibrating her breasts. Karen’s face appeared again, but this time, Lynda tried to hide her feelings by keeping her eyes closed. Karen gently rubbed her hands along her bound body, squishing her breasts. Lynda was loudly moaning, the sound muffled by the gasmask.
Suddenly, her breathing was cut off. She opened her eyes, frantically searching for air. At the same time, the orgasm was building even stronger than the first time. She tried to arch her back, to prepare for the huge explosion, it was there, it… Everything stopped.
Lynda fought her bounds like if she was on fire, rocking from side to side, tearing herself off frame, ripping the frame off the wall, getting her frustration out.
That was what she felt she was doing.However, from Karen’s point of view, she was strongly struggling, but she was too tightly bound to move much.
Lynda was panting heavily under her gasmask, trying to rub her toys against whatever was making them vibrate.
Trying as hard as she could, she couldn’t get any sensation. That was frustrating as hell. She wanted more. She wanted to be teased again.
The vibration started again, then stopped. She could swear Karen was smiling under her layers of rubber, enjoying it. She knew what she was doing. She knew what was happening in Lynda’s mind. She went through that already. She enjoyed it. She remembers it just too well.
She played with her, teasing her, getting her on the edge countless times, but never letting her jump.
In time, that exhausted Lynda who was barely reacting to the vibration. Karen knew it was the right time.
She untied Lynda from the frame. She didn’t resist. She led her to a bondage table where she had her laid down on her back. She fastened her ankles to rings, spreading her legs, and her wrists to the side of the table. She then slid a dark plate under Lynda’s butt, then installed a mushroom vibrator on her crotch with a harness.
She then turned it on.
Lynda reacted instantly, thrusting her hips forward. It was easy, she was only bound at the wrists and ankles, and actually, by having her wrists by her side, it was relatively easy to raise her hips but… Everything stopped. Out of frustration, she banged her hips on the table. She let it go, frustrated. After about a minute, the vibration started again. She waited. She expected it to stop any moment, but it didn’t. She thought, she hoped, she would be able to climax, but as soon as she raised her hips, everything stopped.
She began to understand the devilish setup. To orgasm, she had to raise her hips, but doing so, was stopping the vibrator. Damn.
Karen looked at her, realizing her predicament, with a shared pleasure.
She left her to find her own little world. It was late, it was time to go to bed.
She went to her bondage bed, but she couldn’t tie herself down properly. She plugged the feed tube and the relief tubes and set herself on the table.
It wasn’t the same. She was missing the bondage. She found sleep with the constants humming and moanings from Lynda, just a few meters away.
Lynda’s visit (part 3)
She had no way to tell time when she opened her eyes: the dungeon had no windows. She could see Lynda, on her right, her chest regularly raising and falling, probably asleep from exhaustion. What should she do now? Return the “control” to Lynda, or keep it. She kind of liked… both.
But she took pleasure at initiating Lynda to her life, and she seemed to enjoy it.
Lynda moaned when Karen stopped the vibrator. She was sure she hadn’t orgasm. She knew she had suffered the predicament herself before. She tied Lynda’s hands in front of her, added a hobble chain and led her upstairs, to the kitchen. Only there she knew it was quite late in the morning, the sun had been shining for a while. She never slept that long. Then again, she had no clue what time it was when she went to bed, so…
She instructed Lynda to make breakfast. She asked, by writing, for two eggs, bacon and roasted potatoes. Karen enjoyed watching Lynda struggle to make things perfect, trying her best with her bound hands. Once the meal was cooked, with two runny eggs, burned bacon and undercook roasted potatoes, she led her to the table and waited for her to put the plate down, along with a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice, gesturing that it wasn’t for herself, as he was tube fed during the night. It meant that Lynda had to eat her badly prepared breakfast. What a treat!
But first, she had to set her up properly. Her wrists were locked together, and linked by a short chain to a ring under the table. Her feet were also linked together and locked to a ring on the floor. Her neck was linked with a chain to the high back of the chair.
To eat, she would be barely able to reach the plate with her chained arms, then, barely able to reach her mouth, with her neck limited by the chain to the chair.
Finally, she removed the gasmask and the gag.
“This is devilish, you know?” she said as soon as she felt she was capable of talking.
Karen answered by making a “shhhh” sign with her finger and pointing the gasmask.
“Yeah, right. I must shut up. But just so you know. You’ll pay for that.” she said with fire in her eyes.
Karen nodded a big yes, as if she was fully aware of it, even… anticipating it.
Karen walked away for a few moments, only to come back with more restraints, to Lynda’s dismay, then she enjoyed watching her struggle to eat. Once done, she put a harness panel gag with a large ball, and a very high and rigid posture collar on her. She then enjoyed watching her wash the dishes, with her hands tied together and struggling with the posture collar, preventing her from lowering her neck.
She had to step away from the kitchen sink to bend her whole body to look at what was in there, or to put the dishes on the countertop. All while planning the next setups. After all, she had the whole weekend to play with Lynda. Assuming she would not call it quits before the end…
Once everything was cleaned, she was led back to the dungeon where Karen was waiting for her with a rather heavy leather body harness with two huge rings over the shoulders. Then she made wide eyes when she saw what was on a table: ballet boots.
Even if she tried to convince Karen that she couldn’t walk in those, Karen put them on, lacing them very tightly before locking an ankle cuff, making them impossible to remove. She handed her crutches and led her to the treadmill. There, she tied her harness to huge springs, taking off almost half her weight from the dreadful heels. She tied her arms in her back, elbow touching, and turned on the treadmill.
Lynda had no choice but to go along. With her weight supported by the heavy springs, it was relatively easy to walk.
Karen gave her a slap on the butt and disappeared upstairs.
To her, it felt like an eternity. In reality, she had no clue how long it had been. One thing for sure, it was boring. She had found that she could rest her weight on the springs, and lift her legs to rest them. She eventually walked less than let herself suspended. However, Karen had seen it.
Without a word (She couldn’t anyways…), she stopped the treadmill, then applied two sticky pads on Lynda’s inside thighs, up her tight latex dress. Wires from those pads were run to a black box with flashing lights hung to her elbow cuffs. She then placed strange light bars behind her legs, one on each side of the walking carpet, and restarted the treadmill.
Lynda let herself ride along, without walking, but when her feet cut the path between the light bars, she was stung rather heavily in her thighs. She immediately began to walk. She immediately tried to suspend herself, but doing so, bending her legs backward, she was cutting the light path, and was getting zapped.
Karen gave her a rather hard slap on the butt, which made her stumble… and zapped… and she disappeared upstairs.
This time, Lynda had no choice. She should have known better. Every bad behavior is punished in this way of life. She should remember it. She WILL remember it… ZAP! … but better concentrate on walking for now.
She had no clue how long it had been but by then, the zaps were less painful than walking. Her feet were killing her, and she had a lot of respect for Karen who was walking in those like they were slippers.
Her eyes were closed, and her hearing was concentrating on her whistling breathing through the gag, and the regular thumping noise her walking was making, She didn’t hear Karen approach. She knew she was there when the treadmill was stopped. She was exhausted and simply let herself hang by the springs.
Karen carefully removed the boots. Her feet were a mess: aching and tired. Karen approached a chair and helped Lynda move from the treadmill to the chair. She didn’t tie her up to the chair. Well, she already had her arms tied in her back, and was in no condition to run away.
After a while, Karen came back with Lynda’s own shoes. She put them on her, and led Lynda upstairs: there were still chores to do.
Lynda spent the rest of the day doing house chores, from vacuuming, to dusting to cleaning the bathroom, all that while Karen was sitting… reading. (some stories from someone named Pete…).
Karen stopped her to make dinner. Lynda knew what to do, since she would be the one eating it.
In the evening, she set-up Lynda in the living room, in her own favorite place and setup: kneeling, back against the wall, heels linked to it, legs tied at the ankles and knees, arms in the back in a reverse prayer position, and her neck tied high, forcing her to stand erect on her knees.
They watched some movies on Netflix, then it was time for the bed.
Karen led Lynda back to the dungeon. She was expecting to be suspended or something, but instead, she was led to what appeared to be a comfortable rubber bed. Or was it a strange looking sleeping bag?
Lynda’s panel gag was replaced with a tube gag. Karen had Lynda slip into the “bag”, a breathing tube through her tube gag, and the rubber bag closed over her.
Lynda then heard a whistling sound, like a vacuum cleaner, and suddenly, everything around her shrunk. She felt trapped. She had a moment of panic, trying to get free, but she couldn’t move much, and if she tried as hard as she could, she could move, but would be forced back into her initial position within seconds. She realized that this was probably the famous vacbed she kept hearing about. Well, actually, it was comfortable: no pinching point, pressure equal everywhere. She was breathing comfortably and was ready to take a much needed nap… until she felt something being put over her crotch and over her breathing tube. Then her crotch began to vibrate.
She was so exhausted, it took time before the orgasm began to build, but… as she expected, everything stopped at the right, or was it the wrong moment. This would be another long night.
Lynda’s visit (part 4)
Lynda was freed from the vacbed. It was a sudden, strange sensation, as if she… missed it. She missed having the pressure all around her. She missed being coated in rubber from head to toe.
As she expected, she was tied up in the kitchen to make her own breakfast and had to eat it bound to the dining table.
She was totally exhausted, having barely slept for the last two nights, thus she barely ate. Karen noticed it, and figured that, since she had to work starting the next day, she better release her, but not before having a last bit of fun with her.
Early in the afternoon, she dragged Lynda to the dungeon, again. She had her laid on her stomach on the bondage bed. She linked her arms in her back, elbow touching, then linked her knees and ankles together, before folding them backward in a tight hogtie. Using leather straps, she linked her cuffed elbows to her ankles and tightened them until they were very taught. Then her wrists were linked to her knees and tightened in the same fashion. Finally, she linked feet to a ring on top of her harness panel gag tightened it until nothing was moving. Lynda was so exhausted, although the position was extreme, she managed to doze off.
Lynda was in a very strict, unmovable hogtie. She couldn’t move. She could wiggle her fingers but that was it.
Karen added straps pinning her down on the table over her shoulders, then over her waist, which she loosely tightened.
Lynda then felt something hard being pushed against her crotch, almost lifting her off the table, making her weight rest on it. Then the waist strap was tightened to its maximum. Finally, a last strap was strung between her knees and the end of the table. She tried to struggle, but couldn’t.
Suddenly, what was at her crotch began to vibrate, pulsating, changing speed and power apparently at random.
Lynda was quick to climb the hill, but she got used to the teasing and she was awaiting everything to stop at the worst moment. She tried not to get too aroused, to ease the frustration. Anyways, she was so exhausted that she didn’t care.
The vibrations continued. They would stop. Any moment now. She was in mixed feelings: should she keep calm and wait for it to stop, or try to go for it, and be frustrated when it stopped.
The vibrator was still on, and the urge to orgasm was getting stronger and stronger. She tried to have a push for it, hoping, yet expecting.
She climbed. Higher and higher. She thought she could do it, yet she was afraid of the frustration, but the vibrations continued. Oh yes, she was climbing. The engines were igniting, but she had doubts. The more she was ready to launch, the more the frustration would be felt.
Then, it happened. The engines lit up. The rocket lifted up, and exploded in the most powerful orgasmn she ever experienced. Her whole body was shaking, getting torn apart and reassembled to be re-scattered again, and again, and again.
Her brain was boiling, her crotch was on fire. She felt her bounds were giving up, being ripped apart, she was falling off the bench, or was it floating over it. She didn’t know. She couldn’t tell.
From her point of view, Karen saw Lynda strained in her tight bonds. She saw her body being run by strong convulsions as the orgasm was reaching from the tip of her hairs to her toenails, yet she was firmly restrained. No chance of escape. She smiled at the thought of what was coming.
Lynda felt as if she was liquified. Not a single cell of her body was overlooked. The hormones reached an all time high, fucking her brain. She screamed. Something unnatural, out of this world. She didn’t believe she was able to make a sound like that.
Finally, slowly, the orgasm subsided, calming down. She was panting heavily through her nose, trying to get a few breaths from her gagged mouth. She was sleepy. She would sleep anywhere, in any position, right now. Right there.
But the vibration hadn’t stopped. It was still on. Slowly but surely, another orgasm was building.
She had been denied, frustrated of any orgasm for almost two days. Now, she realized that she would be forced to orgasm. Again. And again.
Karen smiled under her heavy latex covered face. She imagined Lynda’s revenge. She expected it to be harsh, almost cruel. She wished…
A few hours later, Lynda had stopped reacting altogether to any stimulation. She had it all. Frustration and ecstasy. Even though she was tightly bound and constantly vibrated, she managed to fall asleep.
Karen stopped the vibrator and gently untied her, hearing her moan with each limb getting freed. She removed all the restraints and the gag and left her there, to recuperate, to get her cells back into one entity, and went back upstairs, turned-on the TV and watched a movie.
About an hour later, she heard someone stumble up the stairs. She turned around to see a very unsteady Lynda, barefooted, her eyes shiny and lost. She simply waved goodbye to Karen and left. Karen wondered if it was safe to let her drive, but she had her answer when a cab drove up the driveway to pick Lynda off.
That night, she went to bed totally alone, fixing herself up.
She was missing the restraints. She hoped Lynda would be back the next day, and would exert her revenge.
For the rest of the week, Karen suffered Lynda’s wrath. She had learned a lot about teasing and denial during her two days under Karen’s control, and she made it profitable… for her.
Karen enjoyed Lynda’s setup, which was a change from Phil’s routines setups. She loved every minute of it, even the painful, suspended by the elbows frogtie over the vibrator on a stick.
It was almost the end of August. The summer had been fun, but there were still a lot of beautiful days to spend outside. She was hoping to get a good dose of sunlight. She liked to cook in her own juice, floating on the pool, under the sun.
Lynda arrived shortly after breakfast. Phil led them all to the dungeon. While Lynda was working at putting Karen in something like a stretchy cotton jumpsuit, Phil was carrying heavy cardboard cases. Karen had a glimpse of it, and knew what was taking place, although Phil explained.
“I need a mold of your body for… future references,” he began, “hence the fiberglass casting rolls. We’re going to put you in it. In reality, it’s needed for only a few moments after it has dried solid, but, all this work should be used for more, don’t you think?”
The thought of being encased in rigid fiberglass cast made her wet and horny. Of course she wanted to try it. The vacbed wasn’t completely immobilising her. The mummification with tape or plastic always left the possibility to bend something, but a fiberglass cast would render her totally rigid. Totally unable to move. She was quick to nod a resounding YES!
“Okay” said Lynda with a smile. “How long do you want to be in it?” she asked.
Karen thought for an instant. Using her fingers she showed four.. No, six. Well, she was all entubed for everything. She made a circle, meaning a whole one.
“A whole one? A complete one?” asked Lynda, smiling.
Another unmistakable YES!
“Very well then. One whole one.” she said, smiling, to Phil.
They took her ballet boots off then fitted her with a cotton underwear, before wrapping the fiberglass layers. Phil was soaking them and Lynda was applying them. Being a nurse, she knew about the procedure, what to do and what not to do. Karen, however, was sure that the bandages shouldn’t be put on that tight. But she liked it, and the tighter meant the less play between her skin and the cast, which would be just perfect. She wanted to experience total immobility, and 24 hours, a whole day, would be plenty of time to appreciate… or suffer the predicament.
Her legs were wrapped, leaving no place for air between the cast and her body, putting her feet into the ballet position. She was already compressed by the corset on the torso. For her breasts, Lynda seemed to follow the curves, but without letting go of the tightening. Her arms, neck and head were equally tightly wrapped into the rapidly rigidifying fabric.
She was cast in a “zero gravity” position, a relaxed position that could be sustained for long periods. Rings were included at the shoulders, hips and feet. Holes were left at her crotch, mouth and nose for obvious reasons, and only a small slit over her eyes. She would be in semi-darkness. A small piece of tape would cut her vision dark. Talk about sensory deprivation. Otherwise, she was a hot pink fiberglass woman’s shape.
She couldn’t hear anything, barely see, and feel only the increasing pressure of the cast. She was put onto a wheeled buggy and rolled outside. The sun was high and shining strong and she was glad she only had a small slit for her eyes.
With Lynda’s help, she was lifted off the ground and suspended by the shoulder rings, balancing under the wind in mid-air.
That was quite a feeling. The tight cast, covering every cm of her skin, gave the sensation she was grabbed from everywhere, yet, balancing, was telling her that she was floating.
Her dildos were brought to live with the remote control. That sent her to heaven… and hell. They were in an intermittent setting. Sometimes she would launch, but most of the time, it would leave her frustrated. A lot. The day went on. She watched Phil and Lynda having a BBQ and taking long dips in the pool. and she surprised herself to doze off, even with the vibrator on.
The sun went down and Phil plugged the feeding / cleaning hoses, then left her there for the night. No need to bring her inside: she was very well protected. She slept like a baby, totally isolated from the outside world, her eye holes patched with a piece of black tape. This was making sure that no insect would get in.
She felt the sun rise as her cast began to heat-up. She had been totally rigid for about 24 hours and was expecting to get out anytime now. That had been a very interesting setup, and, actually, wasn’t that eager to get out. Getting slowly rocked by the wind wasn’t bad. It was actually fun, since she couldn’t do anything to stop it or slow it down.
Lynda approached. She was wearing a very tight Realize long sleeved polo swimsuit. It was hiding everything and at the same time, revealing everything. She removed Karen’s eye tapes.
“Good morning, sweetie. How was your first day?”
Karen tried to moan with her nose, but then she realized: first day?
“Yes, first day.” answered Lynda as if she had heard the question. “You’re gonna be in for a full whole one, meaning one full week.” she said laughing. “I was asking how many days you wanted to be in, not hours.” she said, still laughing, but becoming evil. “Yes, I still hold a grudge.” she said giving Karen a push, which made her balance even more.
During the day, Phil changed her hanging setup, suspending her by the hips, then, on her back, suspended by her feet and shoulders for the night.
Then, for the rest of the week, she was, sometimes suspended upside down, or on her side, facing the house, facing the pool. She was kept with dark tape over her eyes for most of the time. She lost track of time. Only her feeding and cleaning were telling her that something was being done, that she was still alive, but she couldn’t tell if they were done regularly, or at various times. For the last day (she didn’t know that), more fiberglass was added to seal her eyes, and the breathing / feeding tubes. Then they put her in the pool letting her gently sink to the bottom.
That was awesome. Now she was really floating. She couldn’t tell which way was up or down or sideways. Everything was dark. It was total sensory deprivation, until the dildos came to life.
Finally, after seven days, she was cut out of the cast. It was as if she was born again. Well, partly, because she didn’t feel the fresh, cool air on her skin. She could simply move. She was quickly put back into her ballet boots, and bound. She had jobs to do. She was one week behind her chores list!
Phil had been working in the workshop since her week-long casting session. He needed her body cast to do something. She had no clue what it could be.
There were loud noises, power tools being used in the dungeon, while she was dusting the house. Even Lynda came in. She was wearing a purple neck-entry latex catsuit and thigh high high heel boots. Since her week taking care of Karen, she fell in love with latex, wearing it as often as she could. Since, coming to Karen’s house was no problem in latex, she was spending more and more time with Phil. Karen suspected something was up between the two of them. But it was none of her business. Phil was her friend. Not her lover.
Lynda came to get Karen, tying her arms in her back and snapping a leash on her collar, she dragged her to the basement, where Phil was waiting besides what looked like a coffin with a rounded cover. He was smiling.
“I present you, your new… hum… bed.” he said, making a gesture toward the opened casket.
“When Lynda took care of you, when you had her bound, you were all by yourself to set you up for the night, I mean that you couldn’t tie yourself up. It always required someone to plug the hoses and tie you up properly. This will do all automatically.” he said, inviting Karen to come closer.
Karen approached. She quickly noticed imprints of her body in the lower and upper part of the box, that when closed down, would put her back into the rigid cast.
“Everything is lined with 2cm smoothskin neoprene. It will compress you gently yet very firmly. The tubes connexions are automatic. All you have to do is lay in it. After 30 seconds, the cover will close and the hoses will link. The next morning, after the sleep timer is done, the bed will open and release you. Everything is controlled through an app I asked a friend to make. It can be controlled remotely, meaning that if, for some reason, I don’t come here for the night, I can still adjust the setups if needed, wherever I am. Want to give it a try?” he asked.
Karen approached and her arms were uncuffed. The bed was rather low and easy to step on. She let herself slide in it and she literally popped in place. Already, she could sense that the fit was tight: she was sinking in barely halfway.
“Perfect. Now, don’t move for 30 seconds.”
Thirty seconds later, the cover closed down automatically. It closed on her, then she heard the electric motor began to strain as her world became tighter and tighter until she heard metallic latches click in places and the whining noise stopped.
When the cover closed, the feeding and breathing hoses were linked automatically and she felt the rush of forced fresh air. She felt her crotch plugs being linked.
She tried to move, but she was so compressed by the thick neoprene that she couldn’t move at all. She imagined spending 8 hours, every day, in that. Her breath became shaky. She was getting horny!
The pressure was released and the cover opened. She was now fully encased into the lower part and she had to struggle to pull herself out. Phil had thought about that and had fixed handles she could grab on to help.
Once she was out of it, he showed her the display on the end of the bed.
“Now, see here. We can program / control locally if needed, but it’s much easier through the app. And no, you don’t have access to it.” he said with a devilish smile.
“If you look here, you have your bedtime. You have to be in bed no later than this time. Every minute late will extend your… sleeping time, by 5 minutes. Got it?”
Karen nodded yes.
“Now, it has a lot of safety measures, like if it detects that you’re not breathing anymore or an abnormal heartbeat, it will release you and send an alarm to our phones. Like it?”
Karen nodded yes and gave two thumbs up.
“This way, I have less chances to be… abducted by you.” said Lynda with a corner smile.
The day was long. It’s always long when you wait for something you’ll get only at the end of the day. Karen was eager to test the bed with a full night: 8 hours totally confined in it, unable to move.
She was in it fifteen minutes ahead of time, but she then realized that the bed would not close before her programmed bedtime, meaning that the only way to spend more time in it was to be late, which would make her late the next morning for Phil’s breakfast, which would lead to punishments. Damn! That made her hot!!
Finally, the bed closed, sealing her in, squishing her in it’s thick and tight neoprene. She couldn’t move. She had had a good day. No punishments expected. She jolted when the dildos came to life. The fact that she was so tightly squeezed sent the vibrations all over her body. She had the feeling that she wouldn’t sleep that much…
New Year’s Party
Again, Phil had spent a lot of time in the workshop. Karen was eager to see what he would come up with. Finally, getting closer to Christmas, he led her, but not to the basement, to the workshop.
“It’s a fit test.” he said, “just to make sure everything is just right.”
Karen followed him. It was a large wooden box. Actually, it was more like the frame of a box, with panels closing it, leaving large gaps between them. In it was a zillions of large springs hooked to as many rings all over the frame of the box. He dressed her with a full body harness, with straps everywhere, even one going under her heeled boots. He had her stand in the middle of it, then he began to suspend Karen to them. There was spings over her head, pulling it in all the directions at the same time. Others at her shoulders. Again, all springs were linked to the box in 3 points. The large gaps were allowing Phil to grab the springs and linked it to Karen’s harness suit.
When he was done, Karen was suspended in mid-air, and mid-way inside the box, not touching any part of the frame directly.
“Okay. Now struggle. Struggle as if your life depends on it.” he said.
Karen did. Softly at first, then harder and harder. It was hard. The springs were always pulling her back in the same place, in the center of the box. Phil was looking at her from a distance, walking all around the box, getting closer, applying a bubble level to it, taking notes.
He let her go, not giving any more explanations. The next day, she did another series of tests. The springs were setup differently. For her, she was restrained as much as the first try, but for Phil, something was getting better. What it was, she didn’t know.
Two more test sessions were required, then she never heard again of that box.
Phil had a party for Christmas. Karen spent it alone. She could take care of herself with the new automatic bed. Christmas, to her, meant that she could stay up late, but the bed didn’t see it that way.
The next morning, she was kept tightly compressed over four more hours. She loved every minute of it. Phil didn’t show up back until December 27th.
Again, he worked in the workshop, then on New Year’s eve, he rolled a new glass cabinet to the living room, a cabinet that had a rather thick… box at the back of it.
“I’m doing a New Year’s party here, and I want you to be a big part of it, so..” he said, opening the back of the cabinet, revealing an array of springs, “you’ll be right there, in the middle of everybody, but totally invisible. You will be able to see through the one way mirror, but no one will be able to see you.”
Karen approached. The front end of the cabinet was all glass, including glass shelves. The back was a full length one way mirror with the bottom part masked off from behind up to where would be her head.
“Okay. Time to get in.” he said, having Karen slide in from the side of the spring frame. He began to fix her, suspending her in the middle of the springs, then closing the box.
He took the wheeled buggy to put her where the cabinet would look just right, then he filled it with glasses of different kinds, and even a few crystal trinkets.
Karen stayed there, completely immobile, suspended, in almost darkness, almost in sensory deprivation. Everything was quiet, silenced, except the music she heard mostly the bass through the thick walls of the box.
The doorbell rang and Phil opened the door. It was Lynda in a very sexy, sequin dress. She immediately walked to the glass cabinet and stared at Karen.
“We don’t see her at all. Does she know yet?”
“Nah. I’m waiting for when more people will come in… Ah, there they are. Turn it on, please.”
Know? Know what? Thought Karen. What was he hiding from her? Lynda bent down near the side of the cabinet and got back up. As soon as she walked past the cabinet her vibrators gave a short jolt, then went silent.
As the guests entered, they all gathered in the living room, and each time someone was passing in front of the glass cabinet, her dildos fired.
Damn! That was it! He had somehow linked a motion sensor with the remote control for her dildos. As more and more people came in, the more and more she got vibed.
About 50 people were now packed in the living room and dining room, moving in front of her, getting closer to look at the trinkets. The closer they got, the stronger the vibrations. Karen was squirming in her suspended bondage, but, from the exterior, nothing showed. All her movements were suppressed.
Phil was right. She would be seen by everybody, but nobody would know she was there.
Although the dildos bring her joy, seeing people drinking in the living room, over her beloved furniture was pissing her off. She saw people spill it on the floor and on the leather upholstery. Phil would have to pay to have them clean, or to replace them.
But she was quick to forget everything as another orgasm was growing, as everybody was moving at the same time, in unison, doing the countdown to the new year.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… Happy new year!
Karen exploded at the same time. Yes, it was the best firework she had ever experienced, as people continued to celebrate and hugged and kissed everybody just in front of the cabinet, she was vibed and vibed, triggering another orgasm even if the first one wasn’t completely dissolved.
She had fallen asleep from exhaustion as people were leaving. The house was empty by 04:00. Phil was too drunk to do anything. Lynda helped him reach the bedroom where she also collapsed, leaving Karen in her box.
The next morning, well in the early afternoon, Phil got up and realized that Karen was still there. He freed her and quickly sent her to the cleaning/feeding bed for a much needed relief. He by-passed the “late night” punishment, because, after all, she was something like 15 hours late, which would have added to 75 hours, in addition to her 8 hours/night normal sleep would have sum up to almost 5 days in the bed!
She was kept in the bed for about an hour, the time needed to be fed and cleaned and the dildos recharged. Then she had the house to clean, and that party had made a huge mess.
She was especially mad at having to clean her beloved fine leather furniture, until she began to actually do the job. Something was strange. The leather appeared… different. She pulled on it, to discover that they had been covered by a very well done imitation. Phil was looking at her, smiling.
“Gotcha!” he said, leaving her to her chores while he and Lynda went to the spa…
Lynda’s Second Visit
Karen was doing her chores, vacuuming the bedroom. She heard a lot of noise coming from the dungeon. Phil was adding something. After a few hours, he went to get her. He brought her to the kitchen.
“I have some bad news. I have to leave again, this time about two weeks.”
Karen nodded no.
“Yeah, I know, it’s too bad, but believe me, it’s for the better, I can’t tell you much about it right now, but you’ll be happily surprised.” he said, giving her a hug.
“Anyways, I have another surprise for you, if you would come to the dungeon with me.” he said, leading her downstairs.
The dungeon had one more item in it: another bed, this one closed. Karen looked at him puzzled.
“Well, Lynda is here to help you and keep you company.” he said, pushing the button on that new bed.
The lid opened, revealing a woman, covered in rubber, trying to get out of her tight confinement.
“I thought that, this way, both of you would be on the same level. She’s setup exactly as you are, intubating and everything. You will take care of each other, any way you see fit, for the next two weeks.”
Karen pointed at Lynda, obviously saying “Lynda wanted that?”
“Yes, it’s Lynda. She actually suggested it. The more she wore latex, the more she liked it and examining you on a regular basis, she could tell that no harm was being done. She wanted to try it, so there she is. You two are gonna have to take care of each other. Think you can do that? Without putting both of you in an inescapable situation?”
Karen nodded yes. Already, a prank was forming in her head. She still remembered the seven days she spent inside a full body cast. That was way more than the couple of hours of teasing Lynda had to endure.
She watched her struggle to extirp herself from the tight neoprene mold. Once out, she walked on ballet boots, and placed herself beside Karen, putting her hands in her back, in the perfect behaving rubber slave.
“Very well. I have to go now. Again, make sure you don’t end-up, both of you, unable to get one another out of your predicament, or it’s gonna be a very long two weeks.
Phil left, not without laughing. Yes, this was devilish. Lynda followed him upstairs. She was still unsteady on the ballet boots and the long and rigid corset seemed to be difficult to manage. Karen used it at her advantage. She grabbed a padlock and before Lynda could reach the stairs, she pushed her to the wall, pinning her there, and quickly snapping the padlock on her wrists cuffs, linking them in her back. Lynda tried to kick her off, but she was not used to making such specialized moves on ballet boots. Karen had the advantage.
Karen dragged her to a whiteboard she uses to communicate with Phil. She wrote:
“I will be the master for the first week, you’ll be for the second week. Deal?”
Lynda quickly saw the opportunity. She would learn what Karen would do to her, and used it at her advantage afterwards. She knew Karen had the advantage, but she would have the opportunity to fight back, to take her revenge.
She agreed. Too bad Karen couldn’t see her face, because the smile she was making behind her latex hood was devilish.
But then again, Karen was also smiling a devilish grin. Lynda had fallen into her trap!
Karen led Lynda upstairs. There was no food to prepare, no kitchen to clean, no dishes to wash. They were both fed a nourishing broth made from powder and water. The only tasks left were keeping the house clean and keeping the driveway and pathways clean from the snow.
For the next two weeks, there would be no towels to clean, no bed sheets or clothes to wash. Sealed in their rubber confinements, they were not kicking much dust. They would take it easy. Well, Karen would take it easy. The only big task they had to do was keep the driveway and pathways clean of snow, which involves operating the tractor-mower that had been outfitted with a snow thrower, the standard hand-guided snow thrower and of course, shovels and brooms.
Lynda had never used any snow thrower, living in an apartment building. She had used the broom to clean her small patio, but it was about it for snow management.
Things were different here. Usually, Karen would hire a contractor to do the major cleaning of the driveway. She would use the hand-guided one to clean her pathways. Phil had bought a snow thrower for the tractor and cancelled the contractor. Now SHE had to do ALL the work.
However, she couldn’t do it as is, in her latex catsuit. Latex is heat transparent, meaning that it’s neither insulation or conductor. It’s as if it doesn’t exist. So, she needed a winter suit.
Phil took care of it, in the form of a white leather catsuit with attached wedge boots, mittens and hood, leaving only her eyes peeking out through an oval aperture on the hood.
Since rubber kind of sticks to most fabric, the inside was made from a thick layer of rubber, that was tight fitting. Simply lubricating her existing catsuit made putting on the snow suit a breeze.. Well, a storm force breeze….
The insulation was a thin layer of very high tech material, that would allow her to work comfortably down to -20C. Finally, the outer layer of white leather was actually the same size as the inside layer, making the suit extremely tight. Zippers down the lower inside leg (for the attached boots) and lower arms (for the attached mittens) made it possible to put it on. It was still a very tight fit, and a lot of struggle was needed to put it on.
The hood was attached to the front of the suit, with a zipper going from the top down to the neck where it would meet with the back zipper of the main suit. The two zippers would lock together.
Of course, it was cut to measure for Karen. Lynda was a little chubbier. She wanted to try it anyway.
Karen applied a generous amount of lubricants and Lynda tried to squeeze into the suit. That proved a big challenge. The leather was taught to the breaking point, and Lynda was afraid that the suit would rip apart. Karen, however, knew it would not happen, as the leather was lined with a layer of kevlar, and that the stitching was also kevlar. That thing would not rip apart, not even at the seams. As for the zipper, it was industrial grade. It would be the last thing to let go.
Just putting the legs on proved to be quite an exercise. Lynda could tell already that it would be a very tight fit, if it fits. She had taken her ballet boots off and was trying to put her feet into the wedge ones, attached to the suit. They were wedged, but with the heel so high, they were practically ballet boots.
Karen helped her feed her arms into the very narrow sleeves. Again, good thing there was a lot of lubricant. In the attached mittels, Lynda discovered that she had to align her fingers with some kind of internal gloves. She would not be able to cross her fingers, except the thumb.
When Karen began to zip it shut, she felt it squeeze her hips. For her waist, the corset was already giving all she’s got. Karen struggled to get it up one tooth at a time. It went easier when she went past her corset, over her breasts, where Lynda felt the awesome squeeze of the suit, which was pulling tight on her arms.
Then the hood, dangling in front of her. Karen pulled it over her head. It was a very tight fit and only an oval shape hole was opened over her eyes. The rest was tightly pressed against her head, including the neck portion, following every curve of her neck. When Karen pulled the zipper down, her head became almost immobilized. Then the zippers of the lower arms and lower legs were pulled closed, squishing every last parcel of her body.
She was like a robot. She realized that she could barely bend her arms, even less lift it. Sitting? Totally out of the question.
Karen nonetheless sent her outside to feel the suit. Lynda, struggled to walk to the garden shed where the shovels were kept. Karen laughed at the sight. She looked like a kid that is overdressed with multi-layers of clothings and can’t move. However, tight and figure hugging as that suit was, it was a lot sexier looking.
Lynda came back to the house a few minutes later, holding a shovel. Since it hadn’t snowed for the last few days, there was nothing to clean up, except for a few spots where the snow was blown by the wind.
She could barely do it. She couldn’t bend. She couldn’t flex her arms properly. She was panting heavily, and with her lungs capacity restrained by the tight corset, it made it even worse.
After a few minutes, all she could do was rest on the shovel stick, gasping for air. Karen saw it and let her in the house.
Taking off the suit proved as challenging as putting it on. Damn, it was tight!
Karen wasn’t mad. She was almost laughing. Everything was going well.
Now, she was eager for the first snow storm. It was due in a few days, according to the weather reports.
The rest of the day was rather eventless, but since Karen was in charge and, although difficult, Lynda had managed to clean part of the entranceway, she was due for a reward.
Karen led her to the dungeon where she tied her to the X frame, securing her perfectly still, before putting a strong vibrator on her crotch. Lynda had done a good job. She deserved a reward.
When it was time to go to bed, Karen released her and they both took place in their respective devices, welcoming its tight embrace.
It was pretty much a first for Lynda. Yes, she had tried the bed for fit, but never spent more than a few minutes in it. Even when she was carried in, she had spent about an hour in it. Spending a whole night, AND being fed and cleaned was an all new, disturbing, experience.
Disturbing, not not unpleasant.
Karen did the same. She took place in her bed for the night. The cover closed and she welcomed its tight embrace.
The next day was not different. There was nothing more to do than tease each other. All the chores were done. So, they played a game, tying each other up and seeing if the other could escape, with a one hour time limit. Of course, Karen being in control, Lynda was always kept in some kind of restraints, being chained to the wall, so she could not take control over Karen.
Lynda loved that game. It gave her hints and ideas on how to tie Karen. She was preparing her own “dominant” week.
Karen watched the TV with Lynda tied on the carpet. Karen felt mixed up. She was a slave, yet dominating another slave. Can someone be a dominant slave?
Then, by the end of the week, the big snow storm came in, the storm Karen had expected, hoped for. The forecast was for 3 days of heavy snow.
In the morning, Karen got out her snowsuit and put it on the back of a dining room chair. Lynda was standing by: she couldn’t do much. She thought.
Karen had another view. She walked to her normal bedroom, and went into the walk-in closet, coming back with a one-piece ski suit. It was light blue with hot pink accents which made it very feminine, very sexy. She gestured to Lynda to put it on. She walked again in the closet to come back with ankle high wedge high heeled booties. They were fashion more than fetish, but they had a four inches heel, with the little furry collar around the ankle.
Lynda put on the suit. Of course, it was nicely fitting, but it wasn’t tight. That was more comfortable that the ultra-tight suit Karen would have to wear. She was having the advantage… She thought.
As she was zipping the booties and getting back up, she saw Karen waiting for her, with four rolls of duct tape. She took the white board and explained what she would do. Lynda had no choice anyways, since for that week, she was the sub.
Karen proceeded to wrap Lynda in the snow suit, starting at the feet. She wrapped the top of the boot with the leg of the suit, making sure they were well joined together, then she went up, wrapping Lynda’s lower leg tightly, up to below the knee. She stopped there, then began to wrap again over the knee up to the crotch. She did the same for the other leg.
She wrapped the torso from the hips to the armpits. Then it was the arms, wrapped the same way: she made sure the mittens were carefully joined with the sleeves, and wrapped them up to the elbow then the upper arm up to the armpit.
Lynda was tightly wrapped but very well able to move.
She flipped the hood over her head and wrapped it, leaving the eyes cleared, and a hole for breathing.
Karen put on her own tight suit, and a short while later, they were outside. Lynda was on the hand driven snow thrower, and Karen on the tractor.
Of course, the tractor had been rigged to give a pleasant ride, vibrating the crotch. Karen took great fun at that, orgasming a few times, while considering Lynda who hasn’t much stimulus except for her vibrating dildos… which she forgot to turn on.
Two hours later, the first layer of snow had been removed, but more were falling on top of the clean pathways. It would be for the next day.
Once inside the house, Karen got out of her suit, but let Lynda in.
“I want to get out. It’s getting hot in here.” wrote Lynda on the white board.
“I can’t. I didn’t think of it, but taking the tape off will rip the suit. The snowstorm is forecast to last for 3 days. I need you.”
“I’m cooking in there!” wrote Lynda.
“Well… Would you mind sleeping in the shed? It’s not heated. You’ll be just right.”
“Okay.” said Lynda. The idea of getting tied up in the shed, instead of the usual dungeon was somewhat appealing.
So, that evening, Karen used the emergency cleaning/feeding device that has to be used when someone can’t use the bed, then she led Lynda to the shed where she tied her laying on the floor, feet together, arms in her back, collar linked to the floor.
The next day, the same routine repeated itself: Cleaning the driveway and sleeping in the shed.
Then the snow storm subsided, and at the end of the day, Karen unwrapped Lynda. The suit was no longer pristine, but did not rip, and would be wearable after a good wash. Lynda grunted, sure that Karen made it on purpose, but Karen wrote that she didn’t know and wouldn’t take the chance. This was a very expensive snow suit after all.
So for the first time in 2 nights, Lynda could sleep inside, in the bondage bed she had come to appreciate.
When the lid closed down on her, Karen looked at her display, and jumped a few times of joy: It worked!
The next morning, Karen awoken, fully rested. She got out of her bed and looked at Lynda’s display. Everything was working as expected: Lynda’s bed would not open for about 5 days. Well she slept 2 nights out of the bed. Since each non bedtime is multiplied by 5, and she had 16 hours out of the bed, which translated to 80 hours, not counting her regular bed time, she would be encased pretty much until Phil returns.
She spent the day alone, enjoying everything for herself. She didn’t need anyone to take care of her. She could manage. That’s the message she was sending Lynda and Phil.
It was the middle of the afternoon on her second day alone, when there was a Skype call from Phil. She answered from the wide screen TV of the living room, the wireless keyboard in her hands, ready to type the answers.
“Hello Karen. Everything is fine?”
“Yes. Everything is fine. Nothing to report.”
“Very good. Where is Lynda?”
“She’s taking a nap. All this bondage stuff is hard on her.”
“Yeah, I figured…”
At the same time, Karen heard some noise behind her. She turned around to see Lynda, tumbling her way, obviously disoriented. Karen swiftly turned back to the screen.
“Well, she woke up, apparently.” she quickly wrote. Good thing her face was hidden behind the hood, because she was totally startled to see Lynda up.
“Karen.” began Phil, with a very firm tone. “You probably forgot that I can get all the bed data from my phone, right? It means that I know what happened. I have access to all the security cameras. I saw what you have done, and how you tricked Lynda.”
“It was just a joke.” typed Karen, trying to buy herself out of it. “She stained my sofa the other day and put me in a cast fo…”
“Enough Karen. Lynda, you will take Karen downstairs NOW, and put her to bed. I’m transferring Lynda’s time left to your bed and I’m adding another 24 hours as a punishment. I’ll be long returned before you’ll get out of it.”
“I’m watching you. NOW Lynda. And Karen, any minute late in the bed as of now is one more hour..” he said before cutting the transmission.
Karen had no choice. She walked downstairs and laid down in the bed. Well, she had her answer. There is no dominant slave.
The Surprise Gift
Almost a year. Karen That was judging by the weather only, because she was forbidden to have any kind of time measurement. She didn’t have access to the news, and Phil, with his broken schedule, made keeping time of weeks difficult. She figured that she still had about a month to go before having to go back to the… normal life. The point was that she was finding THIS life normal. She was not eager to end it. She liked that life of rubber slave. Nothing to worry about except what would be the next reward or the next punishment. Her life was being taken care of.
Walking in ballet boots, breathing with her chest heavily compressed by the corset, not being able to talk, dimmed vision, impaired hearing, well, she liked them all. She could easily isolate herself into her own little world, like when she’s inside the bed.
So, when the doorbell rang, she didn’t think for a moment that, perhaps, she would be a disturbing sight for whoever was at the door. Usually, nobody comes to the door, but a quick look at the window indicated to her that it was a courier service. If she was not to answer, he would go back with the package and she might get punished. If she answers, she might get punished because she answered, but then again, she would have the package.
She opened the door. The man standing outside with the package opened his mouth, but remained speechless, looking at that gleaming black body, alien looking head, incredibly thin waist and legs without feet.
“Err… I… I have a package for… Hum…. Phil.” he said, looking at the box.”
Karen grabbed the box and put it down. It was a large sized box, rather heavy. The man looked at her in disbelief, grabbing the box and bending to put it down, the early morning sun reflecting on her tightly encased arms and thighs.
She grabbed the pad and signed before handling it back to him. He took it, like hypnotized, not asking for I.D. or anything.
“Uh… Okay… Thanks… Have a nice day… Errr… Miss.” he said, walking away, but turning around constantly.
Karen was laughing. She picked up the box and got it inside the house, closing the door behind her, ending the delivery guy’s wet day dream. He would be asking himself if he has seen right for the rest of the day, and probably chase for any other delivery at that address. Just to be sure. Just to see that… thing, again.
She put the box on the dining table, looked at it and startled at the shipping label: Fantastic Rubber!
She was jumping with joy. A new suit. Yes, her current one was getting worn out, but this was probably the suit she would wear to gradually phase out of her full enclosure suit.
Should she open the box, or not? She would get punished for peeking. But that was it: peeking. She could not put it on or anything. She decided to play the good girl and wait for Phil to come in.
The time until Phil ended his 12 hrs shift appeared to last centuries. She was so eager to look at the suit.
When finally Phil arrived, he tied her to a ring in the living room while he, in the kitchen, was opening the box: Karen would not see the content!
He seemed pleased.
“Everything is there. It will be for tomorrow. Lynda will be here to give me a hand.”
The next morning, when she crawled out of the bondage bed, she was like a kid on Christmas eve, but it wasn’t until Lynda arrived, in mid morning, that he had Karen follow them to the dungeon. There, he removed her current latex outfit, including the corset.
It felt odd to be completely naked like that. Lynda examined her, thoroughly, and gave her approval: Everything was fine.
With a smile, Phil got out the first opaque envelope, to reveal two new huge dildos. Karen made wide eyes when she saw them.
“Not to worry.” said Lynda. “Your body is quite accustomed to what you have right now. Those are only a small stretch. You’ll love them, I’m sure.” she said, removing the old ones and pushing the new ones in place. She moaned. Yes, they were rather large, but a damn good feeling. She hadn’t realized that she had pretty much forgot about the old ones. Yes, her body had become accustomed to them.
He put circular adhesive pads around her nipples, and round pads on her buns and inner thighs. She suspected they were for some tens unit, but she saw no wire.
Next was a black neck entry catsuit. The latex appeared quite thick tight. Lynda helped Karen to lub herself up to fit in. It took a lot of contortions from Karen’s part and a lot of tugging and pulling from both Phil and Lynda to put it on. It was thick, and it was tight! Phil made sure it was well in place, especially over her breasts, then he took a needle and fondled at the tens pads on her nipples. He carefully punctured the suit, then took what looked like a small headless screw, about 1 mm wide by 2 mm long, and screwed it to the pad from the hole he had just punctured. He did the same on her buns and inner thigh pads.
Phil got some thick lubricant paste and he applied it only to her waist, well, from her crotch to her neck. He then got out of the box two half corsets, front and back, made of carbon fiber.
He wrapped the front portion on Karen’s body: it was covering her from the crotch to the neck. Yes, this thing was pretty much a body suit, with a collar and a crotch band. He carefully aligned the tubes of the crotch through holes on the and seemed to align the small metal rods of her breasts’ tens pads to holes on the cups of the body corset.
Small ribbons were hanging from the back of it and also from the crotch. He took those ribbons and linked them to the connection points of the other tens pads.
Using ratchet straps, he put the back portion of the corset and tightened it. Karen helped it by sucking her stomach in. Damn, she couldn’t believe she was missing the tight embrace of the corset. But this one was different. Way longer, way stiffer and a heck of a lot tighter. She thought her ribcage was to cave in when she finally heard a series of small snapping sounds.
Phil removed the straps and looked from a distance.
“Astounding! I knew FR would be able to pull it off! Now the rest.” he said, producing a lot of half bands, and putting them, not before greasing them with the thick goo, over her wrists, elbows, thighs, knees but not the ankles. Each one had four D rings. Adding to the numerous D rings of her brand new corset, including on the shoulders, she could be tied up from anything.
The next items were two long pointing tubes Karen recognized as ballet boots, but without any heel. Using the same method, he wrapped the two halves of the boot on her leg and tightened them until he heard a series of small clicks, indicating that they were locked in place.
The last item had Karen grasps: it was a complete carbon fiber hood. It would engulf her head, making it a featureless bulb. That was her biggest fantasy. She was no longer someone. She would have no face, no feature. Like a robot or an android.
He carefully aligned the front piece over her face. The inside was made to follow her face like a second skin. The lenses over her eyes were replaced by small TV screens, linked to cameras, or whatever Phil would want her to look at. Again, he poked the rubber, this time over her ears, to insert small earphones in them. Them, using the ratchet straps, he closed the rigid hood over her head, pressing it, compressing it. It included a long collar that overlapped the bodysuit’s collar within a circular ring. She closed her eyes. She welcomed the tight hood. She loved it.
She heard crackling noise in her ears.
“You hear me?”
She nodded yes, but at the same time, realized that the collar was making it difficult. It allowed her to easily turn her head, but up/down movements were small.
“Good. Now do you… see me?” he said, at the same time an image appeared.
She nodded yes again.
“Very good. There’s three more catsuits to put on. Shall we continue?”
She nodded yes. Three more latex catsuits? Damn, that would be tight. She was getting wet by the thought of it.
Again, he spread the thick lubricant all over her body and she was fed in the next catsuit which wasn’t latex, but like a thin bodystocking. It seemed quite heavy for nylon. Then more goo, and another neck entry latex catsuit, as tight as the first one.
She had a hard time getting her hands into the attached gloves until she took a good look at them: they were mittens. The inside was molded like a glove, but the outside had all her fingers glued together. Only her thumbs were free. She shivered. She was looking more and more like an artificial being.
The suit had slots where all the D rings had to go through. Phil carefully put all the D rings through the slots and smoothed it out, removing every possible wrinkle, before wiping it clear.
“Those two suits are the base suits. Very resistant, but not extremely shiny. I have this. It’s a brand new product from Fantastic Rubber: a shiny wear layer. It keeps it shine, is very resistant, but a lot cheaper than a regular latex catsuit. If it tears or gets worn out, I simply replace the outer layer. Time to get it on.” he said, applying, this time, a more liquid lubricant.
Once all done, he led her to the nearby mirror.
Karen couldn’t believe it. She looked like an out of this world android on pointed legs. Her face was replaced by a mirror-like curved surface. She had no more identity.
“What do you think?”
She raised two thumbs up. It was awesome. Each step was a new sensation. She’s never been that rigid before, and it was a blast! She loved it. She even began to act like a robot.
He gave her a small iPad and a stylus she was able to hold with her mittens.
“Here. That’s the camera control. Have a look. It’s practically a cable box you have there!” he said, laughing. “The batteries are embedded in your corset and your helmet. Enjoy. I have more stuff to prepare. We’re going on a trip.”
What’s Going On? (END)
Karen didn’t really hear “we’re going on a trip”. She was too overwhelmed by everything.
First the new suits, that were very right. She could feel the rubber press tightly against her skin everywhere. Then there were those new accessories. They were huge, and each movement reminded her that they were there. She was still to see, or rather feel them in action.
Finally, this new rigidity. Walking in pointed boots never felt so easy. Yet, on the other hand, her upper body was now totally rigid, unyielding. She couldn’t twist her shoulders, and of course, balancing her body while walking was something new. Not mentioning this new hood or helmet. It was compressing her head. She couldn’t forget it. She felt it. Moving her head was limited. She had to use some force to move it, making it move in sudden steps.
She felt like a robot. It was actually a fantasy she had mentioned to Phil a couple of times. She never thought it would come true.
Playing with the remote control, she realized that she was also linked to the house’s security camera system, and that she could see everything, including herself in the dungeon.
Damn! She looked awesome. She moved around, watching her do so from an overhead angle. It felt weird. She looked wonderful. She liked it.
That’s when she noticed Phil, working along a rather long wooden box, or rather a crate. At the same time, she saw him get up and walk to her, taking the remote off.
“I’ll take it… Ah! Good. Overhead view. You’ll be able to see what’s going on. Come with me.” he said, taking her arm and leading her to the crate.
“As I said, we’re going on a trip, but first, you have to be properly packed.” he said, plugging hoses to her crotch and then at the back of her neck. “Yeah, you’re getting fet from the back of the helmet now. Please, put your arms in your back while I wrap you up.” he said, picking a large roll of industrial shrink wrap.
He wrapped her legs together tightly while she leaned against the nearest item, a bondage rack. He wrapped her completely, including her head, making the tube he had plugged earlier go in between the layers. He wrapped her again and again until the roll was empty. Karen figured she had 3 to 5 layers of plastic wrap. Of SHRINK wrap, which was slowly, well, shrinking.
She was slowly squirming in her mummy wrap, feeling its tightness, enjoying it. Phil was gently lowering her down in the long wooden box. She was not resting at the bottom of it but rather on five our six foam blocks.
She was still looking from the security camera and had a great view.
He fed the different hoses under her down to her feet to another section where the feeding/cleaning devices were.
Then, after he kissed her on the forehead, he closed the top of the box, screwing it securely. He approached a strange device that looked like two scuba tanks, but they were linked to a gun. He inserted the gun in a hole on the side of the box, at about her waist.
Karen felt something crawl under her, getting larger, expanding. That was it: expanding foam. She would be well protected.
From the point of view of her camera, he was filling the box until some foam squirted on the opposite hole. He would then switch hole, from her head then to her feet.
As the foam expanded, she gently squirmed to fit comfortably in place. That was a dream come true. She always wondered how she would felt being all… foamed up.
The foam expanded, compressing her, rendering her totally immobile, as if she wasn’t already with the stretch wrap. She liked it.
The more time passed, the less she could move. Finally, took away the spray gun, and turned down the foaming machine. She saw him take his phone and everything went dark.
She lost track of time.
She was moved, carried inside a truck or something, then she was moved again by trolley or by a forklift then she stayed there, not moving for what seemed a long time.
Then again, she was lifted by some machine and rolled, then up some slope, then bang a few times before coming to a rest again. After a while, she felt moving, but it wasn’t… right. She felt falling, no she was rising. Darn! She was in a plane. Where the hell was he taking her.
The flight appeared long, very long. Too long. She slept part of the time, if not most of it. Then she was carried some more. She felt as if she was on a boat or something, gently being rocked from side to side.
Again more carrying and a final rather hard fall, where the case slammed hard.
Then, nothing. For quite a while.
Suddenly she whelped, but gagged as she was, no sound came out: Her dildos came alive. Her new dildos. The new, extra-large, extra powerful apparently, dildos, came to life. She squirmed but nothing moved. She was getting vibed like never before. The two dildos were dancing, in sequence, out of sequence, together, pulsating, humming.
She orgasmed. Once. Twice. She forgot the count, until she passed out.
A sudden release of pressure woke her up. She opened her eyes. She was seeing from her own camera. Phil was there. She could see his lips move but she couldn’t hear him. He was breaking the dense foam away to free her. Finally, he got her out of the box and unwrapped her. He was still talking but she couldn’t hear. She knocked at her ear, nodding no.
He startled, looking at her phone.
“Oh, sorry. Silly me. I had this thing on mute. So, how was your trip? Liked it?”
She nodded yes and moved her hand from side to side in a “not exactly” gesture.
“Yeah, sorry, but I had no choice. So what do you think?” he said, making a broad gesture around him, showing a sparkling luxury place. She was in the kitchen. She could see the living room and from there, through a large open wall, the ocean, emerald, beautiful. She walked, slowly, enjoying the view.
“Fantastic view. This place will be perfect.” he said.
Karen turned to him, arms by her side, elbows bent upwards, hands folded with the palm opened in a “I don’t get it” gesture. “What’s all this?”
“Ahh… Yes, right. An explanation is in order. Well, this is your new home. Well our new home. Let me explain. You left me in charge of your estate, including all the stock market funds, retirement funds, savings, and so forth.”
Karen began to be suspicious. Did he splurge all her retirement funds for this? For a few weeks of vacations before she would get free? If so, he would not live long.
“So, there was this fund that was getting renewed, about a million or so.”
A million! That was 80% of her retirement funds. What the fuck did he do with it. She began to slowly walk toward him in a menacing way. He backed up. Apparently, even encased in layers of rubber and carbon fibers, she was intimidating.
“No, no, listen. I had this hunch about that new internet start-up company, so I invested in it. I added my whole retirement fund which is about $200 grans. And guess what? It paid off. Big time. THIRTY-FIVE TIMES!” he said.
“Yes! You made 35 millions in six months. Ain’t that wonderful?”
Karen gestured to her suit.
“Yes, I’m getting to that. We each have our dreams. Having a rubber slave wasn’t one of mine, but, after spending a year with one, well, I got accustomed. My dream was to have my own little private tropical island. So, voilà! I have my own island. I sold your house and have this one buld here, just for you, with all the… necessities.”
Karen gesture typing on a computer.
“What? Working? You? Not according to your rules book. I followed it to the letter: It was stipulated that, in case of travel, you would have to be well packed and protected. I guess it was followed.”
She nodded… and?
“Well, there were notes at the back of your book.” he said, punching keys on his phone, changing her viewscreens, displaying a scan of her book. “You can read it with me. It says: It’s utopic to think that a life as a rubber slave is a possibility. It’s not. Not in my wildest dreams. But if it was possible, I would like to live the rest of my life as a rubber slave. But not any rubber slave. One with those rigid carbon fibers accessories described in those fetish stories I read. And more: I would like to be some kind of android, looking like a faceless robot. That would be my dream life. A rubber encased living android. Yes. I would love that.”
“Remember that?” he asked.
Karen nodded yes. It was a fantasy. She never thought it could become reality.
“So, there you are. You probably figured by now that the thick gooey coating was not lubricant but glue, so you two rubber suits are glued together, along with all the carbon fiber accessories. And oh, the bodystocking you put on? Titanium. Needless to say you won’t get out of those suits easily. Ain’t that wonderful? You’re an android now!” he said with a genuine smile.
He was happy. He was sure Karen was happy.
Right now, she didn’t know. It was too sudden. She had no time to adapt, to prepare for her change in life. She was expecting to go back to work. Well, expecting, not exactly looking forward to it. But as long as she was home, she could get out of it. But now…
He led her back to the kitchen, covered in white tiles. On a wall, there was a strange looking device with three claws like jaws, one at neck level, the other two near the floor. At mid height, was some kind of box.
“Okay, back up to it, perfect. Now you will feel a box behind you. If you cross your arms in your back, you will notice they will fit nicely in it. Go ahead, do it then back up until your neck touches the claws.”
She did so. As soon as her neck touched something solid, the claws closed on her neck and lift her off the ground. Her dangling feet were immediately grasped by the other set of claws. She was totally immobile. She felt something linking to the back of her head and something else linking at her crotch.
“This is your new feeding / cleaning / not in use station. You will come here when you’re not needed. Like an android, this is your… recharge station.” he said with a satisfied smile. “Clever, right? Now for a tour of your new home.” he said, pushing a button which released her.
He made a tour of the house. There was no basement. There was also no dungeon. However, there were devices, hooks, fixtures, rings everywhere. She could be restrained in any room, in any position. Karen was dizzy. Was this just a dream? What the hell was going on?
“And you got to see this. Come.” he said, leading her outside, toward the beach. She approached. The sun was getting near the horizon.
“I was told the sunsets were marvelous here, and they were right. I suggest you enjoy the view.” he said, leading her to a bondage frame sunk in the soft sand.
A few minutes later, she was suspended, spread eagled, to the bondage frame, facing the setting sun.
“Enjoy the view. I’ll be back later.” he said.
Then, suddenly, her dildos were back alive, along with something else: the tens pads. They were playing a wonderfully orchestrated sequence, sending Karen flying straight to the sun and back. She wondered if the rack would hold.
The odd thing? It was getting more powerful as the sun went down. She doubted she would remember the sunset.
As another powerful orgasm was engulfing her, she came to peace with herself, and with Phil. Yes. What she had written was true. She loved it. She loved her new life. She wouldn’t go back to her… what is it… normal life?
© Pete, August 7, 2017
Plugged to her recharge station, Karen had a view of the beach by the house. Waves were crashing on the shores. The sun was getting up on the other side of the island. Well, she could choose the view from any of the 30 cameras covering the island.
She was gently released from the station. It was time to go to work. She began to make Phil’s breakfast. After one month, she knew the routine.
The kitchen was well equipped and especially made with someone in her condition. She loved it.
Phil entered the kitchen. He seemed troubled. He walked to Karen, stopping what she was doing.
“Karen. Listen. I have to make this clear. I’m perfectly aware that I imposed this life on you. I didn’t ask you, I didn’t offer you. I didn’t discuss the setup, the outcome, I simply did it because I read what you have written and I’ve been knowing you for so many years that I think I knew what you wanted. I got sort of… carried away.
So, tell me: are you happy in this life? If you have the slightest doubt, nod no. I will find a way to get you out of this outfit. With your millions, you don’t have to work anymore, so no sweat there. So, again. Are you happy?”
She didn’t understand the question, and why now. Of course she was happy. She loved it. She nodded a very definitive yes. Phil smiled.
“Thank you very much, Karen. I… I have to go back to the city. I’ll be gone a few days, a week tops. You could manage alone?”
She nodded yes. He kissed her on the forehead of the helmet, and left, taking his toasts on the way, waving her goodbye.
Six days have passed. Karen heard the sound of the power boat coming to the pier. There were actually two boats. Theirs and another she recognized as a service / delivery ship. She walked to the door. She was not allowed on the pier, for obvious reasons. She switched her vision to the pier cameras. Phil was there, helping two men getting a wooden crate from the delivery boat, and putting in on a wheeled buggy. Phil thanked them and they left. He carried the box to the house. He dropped at the entrance, and began to open it. The box was about one meter high by over two meters long by a 1.5 meters wide.
When he removed the first panels, Karen recognized the device: it was the bondage bed. But why had he delivered it? She had no use for it anymore.
The bed was on wheels, so as soon as it was unpacked from the box, he rolled it inside the house, to the guest room.
“Well, apparently this will become our new dungeon.” he said.
Karen was puzzled.
“I had a little… snag, back in town. I had to take desperate measures. Remember the questions I asked you before leaving? Well, Lynda, who helped me set you up, realized that I never had you signed a contract. So, legally… I was wrong. She decided to blackmail me, stating that if I was not to pay her what she asked for, she would go to the authorities. They would be forced to get you out of this, to hear it from your own voice and to sign any documents proving that you accept it. You would have to go through psychological evaluations, medical exams, etc. I didn’t want to make you go through all this.
The video I made from my questions was not sufficient for her. So…” he said, opening the bondage bed, revealing a woman, tightly encased in rubber, similar to Karen, but without the android helmet and a more regular corset.
“I took care of it the only way I could think of. I present you, your… personal slave: Lynda.”
© Pete / monsterp63, August 7, 2017
We are sorry that this post was not interesting for you!
Let us improve this post!
Tell us how we can improve this post?