Note: this is a 500-themed story in honor of reaching 500 watchers on DA, on September 8, 2017, hence the 500 somewhere in this story.
She was breathing fast, being unable to take deep breaths, her rib cage crushed under the pressure of her tight steel boned latex corset, reaching from her hips to below her breasts.
She was also sweating like a pig, sealed under her black total enclosure latex catsuit. The only hole was… well, there wasn’t any. She was totally sealed, like the rest of her inmates.
Yes, she had made a mistake. She didn’t think it was that bad. She just had one drink too many. Okay, maybe it was three or four. She had decided to drive. All her friends told her not to, but they were as drunk as she was, so their judgment was not fully there.
She wasn’t driving very fast. She couldn’t, the lamp posts were always putting themselves in her way. Just there, there was another one. She swerved to avoid it, but then, there was that pedestrian. What the heck was he doing there? She had the choice between hitting the post or hitting the pedestrian.
According to the police, she also had the choice to get off the sidewalk and drive on the road, but that, she didn’t really understood it while they were cuffing her. In the meantime, the young man was being taken to the hospital, his spine badly injured.
She hadn’t killed anyone. She just injured him. She knew all the prisons were overflowing from low impact sentenced people, and they were sending the new ones home. She figured she would be getting that treatment. It wasn’t like she had murdered him.
She had heard about those new privately owned prisons. It was just rumors.
She was sent to one of them. She was expecting an ever better treatment than the government managed prisons. They pretty much get a hotel room, with a comfortable bed, exercise time, leisure times, and they have to do minimal work, to get rehabilitated.
She just needed a desintox rehab. She would get a nice room, three full meals a day, a comfy bed.
The guard behind her gave her a push forward. It was a small push which, for any other person, was no big deal. But when you’re walking on ballet boots, linked by a short hobble chain, it becomes a major push.
Keeping balance? Try it with your arms and elbow tied in your back.
It wasn’t the first time. She knew how to avoid falling face first. She made a series or quick steps to keep her balance, which made her gasps for more air.
She had fallen face first before. When that happened, the guards simply pulled her up by the arm and continued walking.
Not only did her tight corset prevent her from taking deep breath, the narrow breathing tubes going up her nose were not exactly wide open airways either.
She had long lost the reflex to swallow. Her throat was filled with the feeding tube, ending in her mouth, which has been filled with some sort of rubbery expanding foam. Her eyes were sealed behind clear spherical glasses.
Then, a facemask, consisting of a highly reflective ovoid shaped glass was glued over her latex encased head. It was a smooth surface, removing any human features. No expression could be seen. At mouth level, two holes: one for breathing, the other for feeding. That was it. She was now a faceless female form in shiny rubber and pointed boots. She didn’t looked human. She looked alien, or rather non-human. That helped the guards from having compassions for the inmates.
She was reaching her locker. The guard behind her grabbed her shoulders while another one unlocked the padlocks linking her arms and her legs. She was swiftly turned around and backed up into her storing cage. Trying to run away was a thought. Only a thought.
It was a narrow cage where she was barely able to squeeze in. She stepped on the little pedestal and backed against the bars, her arms by her sides.
One guard went behind and linked each steel cuffs, at the elbows, wrists, chest, thigh, over the knee, below the knee and ankles, and linked them to the corresponding fasteners. The last one was her wide steel collar, tightly wrapped around her neck.
At her waist, the tight stainless steel chastity belt was also linked to the bars on each side. From an opening, the guard plugged the relief and enema tubes to their corresponding connectors built-into the chastity belt, that were linked to the large plugs filling her lower orifices.
There was no pleasure there. No vibration, no stimulation. That was total denial. She was a convict, why would she have pleasure.
Once all fixed, the front of the cage was closed on her, the guard actually having to lean on it, to push it shut, squishing her inside.
She couldn’t hear, but she could imagine the creaking of the tight leather catsuit the guards, all females, were wearing as they were working the door.
All squeezed as she was, Karen wouldn’t move. She couldn’t move. And she did barely moved when they pulled off the small pedestal, putting her ballet toed feets suspended. That was the only time she was not having her weight all resting on her toes. However, all the links were now taking the weight. Her wide steel collar being the most uncomfortable one.
Then her cage, suspended on a rail, was pushed sideway into her locker, then the door closed and locked, leaving her in total darkness.
She would stay there for her resting time. How long was that? She had no clue. She couldn’t figure out how many days or weeks or even months she had been there. She had no time reference. There was no windows, and since all the guards were identically dressed with a mask covering their face, she couldn’t even make up their working shifts.
She knew the routine tho.
She would stay there, then, some time later, she would be getting out, then led to the exercise room, where she would have to perform a series of strict exercises, from lifting weight to treadmill runs, all while bound to the different machines. There was no way out, and no way to get out of it.
If one was hurting herself, she would be sent to the medical center, where apparently they knew only one procedure: total body cast.
Then she would be sent to the main room and be able to interact with other inmates, while elbow bounds and hobbled chained, unable to speak or hear. Yeah, great interactions. The only distraction was looking at herself from the mirrored face of the other inmates.
All were dressed the same way as she was: tightly sealed in a black latex catsuit, corset, steel cuffs and ballet boots. All seemed like women. She would say it seems because, well, some appeared to be much too strongly built to be women. There were rumors. Those were men transformed into women, because their crime had been to abuse women. But they were only rumors.
From time to time, her earplugs would diffuse a message. Only once. If it was an order and if ignored, punishment was immediate.
Although most were walking in ballet boots, some were having difficulties, walking with crutches or walkers. Others, who were totally unable to make a step in pointed boots, were confined to wheelchairs. Literally confined to it, their steel cuffs welded to the wheelchair frame. If they don’t want to make the effort to try to walk in ballet boots, they will have to learn to walk again when they’ll get out.
Getting out. That was Karen’s current concern. What will the sentence be? It was based on the condition of the victim. In her case, she would get out when he would walk again, assuming he would. She had badly damaged his spine when she hit him. It wasn’t severed, so there was still hope he would walk, but his hip was crushed. Time will tell.
Then, one day, the news was broken to her. Her earplugs were put to life, to announce, in a dry tone, that her victim was able to make his first steps and that he would fully recover. With everything taken into account, her sentence was set for 500 days.
But there was more. The victim showed no greed against her, stating that he himself had drank quite a lot and was not able to get out of the way of the car. He asked for her to have good treatment.
Following that, instead of getting led to her night cage, she was sent elsewhere. She was led into a white tiled room, filled with drawers, each one about 2m long by 40cm thick There were stacks of them, up to the high ceiling, making columns. A good dozen of those.
The guard pressed a button. In about the middle of the stack, one drawer was pulled out and lowered by mechanical arms to Karen’s waist level. One guard lifted the cover made out of a steel frame with a clear latex sheet. The inside looked like a foam mattress, molded for a body lying down, with her arms in her back, legs slightly spread out. That rather rigid foam was covered with black rubber.
Karen was untied and softly slid on the mattress, her body easily gliding against the lubricated rubber mold, her arms finding their place.
It was actually quite comfortable, and it was the very first time she was allowed to lay down since she got there. That was a heck of an enhancement to her previous cage.
The guard pressed a button and Karen felt the connectors linking to her chastity belt. The guard then lowered the latex cover over her, aligning a hole over her breathing/feeding connectors. The bed was raised back and inserted into its narrow drawer opening.
Something lowered over her face and linked with her tubes. She felt quite comfortable. At least, she was able to move somewhat, since she was only half sunk into the mattress.
Then, she felt weight on her. Something was pressing against her. She tried to move, but she was tightly restrained. Then it occurred to her: she had been vacuum sealed. Any chance of moving had been taken away one more time. At least, she was lying down.
She had a thought:
Her sentence was for 500 days. Yet, she had now clue how many days she had been there, and how many there were left. Was the 500 days starting now, or when the man would walk normally again? That could take weeks, months.
Was the time already spent in jail removed from it?
She would know in 500 days.
© Pete / monsterp63, September 2017
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