Karen – Gone Fishing



She waved the 4X4 driving away goodbye, smiling. Phil was going on his long awaited fishing weekend, and Karen was staying home. Alone.

She wasn’t fond of fishing, and Phil preferred to go there alone. It was his way of disconnecting with the stress of his job.

Karen used that opportunity to work on stuff that bored Phil.

It was a perfect agreement.

She gently rubbed her buns, tightly encased in vegan leather, feeling the tightness and smoothness of the fabric on her firm butt, as the pick-up turned away on the corner, disappearing from view.

There. She was alone. On a friday evening. Phil was to come back only Sunday afternoon.

She walked to her car, parked in the driveway, heels clicking on the concrete sidewalk, to retrieve a large suitcase. Wobbling on her thin high heels shoes, she dragged the heavy suitcase inside the house, up to the bedroom.

She walked back to the front door, heels clicking on the hardwood floors of Phil’s house, feeling her tight jeans pinch her buns with each step, and locked the door with a decisive gesture. There was a devilish grin on her face. She had work to do.

She was kinky. A lot. However, Phil didn’t know how deep into her fetishes she was. He knew that she liked very tight clothes, and high heels, and that she had the perfect body for it. Although she was good looking, it wasn’t the reason why he fell in love with her: her personality, her sense of humor, her sparkling eyes had his heart melted.

They’ve been together for close to a year, and Karen decided that, this weekend, was the opportunity to get out of the closet for him, to reveal her true fetish nature.

Unknown to him, she had put into his fishing lure box, a set of keys. He will be the one freeing her when he returns, and she will have to wait for his return to get free.

As she was giving herself an enema, she smiled and bit her lower lip with her upper teeths, in a very sexy, bratty manner. It will be a blast.

She opened the suitcase. The smell of leather and rubber filled the room as she picked up a hose and a large rubber ball, before heading for the bathroom. She was going to give herself an enema.

Once it was completed, back to the suitcase, she lubed herself generously, before taking the thickest neck entry catsuit she could put alone. She would need help to take it off, tho.

She began to tread it up her legs, feeding her little feet down the attached toe socks, wiggling her toes, and applying lubricant over them. She loved that feeling, the first cold touch of the latex against her skin, followed by the warming up.

She rubbed the legs upward, gently pulling on the whole suit, sliding it up her legs, removing the wrinkles, ensuring a perfect fit.

The suit was so tightly fitted that no air bubble could find a place to hide.

She giggled as it reached her crotch, the cold rubber touching her sensitive labia. There will be more for it later on.

She pulled on the suit so it reached just below her breasts. She stopped there.

She took the heavy hood, molded to her face, leaving tiny pinholes over her eyes to allow her to see, and a small hole at the mouth, and two small holes under the nose.

The hood had a large yoke going under the armpits, which meant that, once the catsuit was on, the hood was not going off without removing the catsuit, and she would make sure the catsuit would not be removable before Phil got back. And in more ways than necessary.

She smoothed the hood over her head, pulling her hairs through the vertical tube along the top of it, creating brown hair fall.

She then squeezed her arms inside the catsuit, wiggling them to find the sleeves. Her left arm popped into the attached glove, quickly followed by her right arm, sending the high collar tight against the hood collar, creating a nice seal, at the same time the rest of the air rushed out with a funny farting noise.

At the same time, the suit pulled at her crotch, taking its place.

Karen let out a soft moan while rubbing her hands along the sleek and shiny rubber that was now her skin, feeling her thin waist, her hips, her hot crotch. Bending her arm, she could feel the suit had to stretch. That’s how tight it was.

Even breathing required efforts. The suit had been made considering a corset, so it was tighter than what a corset would be to ensure a very tight fit, and no wrinkles. She was already feeling her tummy being squeezed. She liked it.

Under the hood, she smiled. Oh, yes. She will go on with her plan. She had no intention to back off.

Back to the suitcase, she got out two long leather tubes attached with long laces. She sat on the bed and proceeded to pull on long knee high pointed boots on her legs, fastening them tightly. Once they were done, she took two steel cuffs and wrapped them around her ankles before applying small padlocks.

She paused for a few seconds. Only one and she would have to go through with all this. She hesitated for a moment: what if something goes wrong?

Nah, everything will be fine! What could happen?

Click! Click!

There. No turning back. Those boots were there to stay.

While she could still reach them, she added a hobble chain between her ankle cuffs. They will not impair her walking much, she would be walking in a short stroll anyways. It was more for the feeling, the presence of the weight of the chain.

She went back to the suitcase to retrieve a long black shiny latex corset. Well, the exterior was latex, the inside was canvas. That was the real thing. She wrapped it around her body before fastening the front hasps. The corset was reaching from her hips to her armpits, with open cups for her large breasts to protrude out.

She fastened it as much as she could with her hands, then backed up to the door, looping the lacing ends through the knob, one on each side of the door, and she began to slowly walk away, pulling on the laces.

Her ballet boots were actually helping her by making it easier to lean forward, pulling on the laces.

She felt the corset tighten around her already thin waist, constricting her. Her breath was shaking with anticipation. Damn, she loved being tightly and rigidly encased. And her setup was far from over!

She pulled as tight as she was able to, but a check with her fingers revealed that she had still about an inch to go. Time to let her organs move inside her to make way for the corset.

She roughly tied up the laces to hold the corset where it was, and hobbled back to the suitcase, getting out the next series of items: more steel cuffs, a steel collar and a complete steel chastity kit, including thigh cuffs and breasts cups. She would be in complete denial, her brain fucked to death, until Phil would be back to release her. Then, she would explode.

Assuming he would not keep her bound and chastised for a longer period. Ohhh. She loved that thought. It made her hot.

She set up herself again to tighten the corset and pulled hard. She even heard the door crack a little. She might be pulling a little too hard. Now, the corset was fully closed. She quickly fastened the laces and inserted them into a special pouch on the flap that would be covering her lacing. That flap had a belt that reached in front of her where, once fully pulled tight, she applied another small padlock.

Breath shaking, hands trembling, she rubbed her tightly corseted body, closing her eyes, realizing that, after each step, she was imprisoning herself more and more, with less and less possibilities of escaping.

She picked the chastity belt and a leather covered box. She opened it to retrieve two huge steel dildos. As she manipulated them to fix them to the belt, she couldn’t refrain a smile, feeling the hard steel balls, mounted on springs, inside each of them, that would tease her non-stop, each time she would move.

She opened the crotch zipper of her latex suit and fed the belt between her legs, and gently inserted both intruders, playing with them, getting them in, out, in out. She couldn’t believe she was teasing herself that much, perfectly knowing that she would then deny herself of any orgasm for about 48 hours, while being constantly teased.

She had to move forward with her plan. After a last teasing stroke, she pushed them in fully, pulling on the belt and wrapping it around her corseted waist.

She actually had to lie on her back to pull on the waist belt. It was a tight fit over the corset. She struggled and at some point, was feeling a little bit distressed at not being able to put the belt on. Yes, she would adjust the belt size, but it would be a hassle. One last try, and the belt clicked in place.

She quickly added the padlock.

There! One more locked encasement layer.

Still laying on the bed, her hands reached the now inaccessible crotch, and tried to play with the dildos but the belt was just too tight. No teasing was going to work, unless her goal was to melt her brain out.

She fastened the thigh cuffs, which prevented her from opening her legs. So, even tho she had a magic wand in her suitcase, she just closed that access.

She slowly sat on the bed. Damn, those steel dildos were not making it easy. 

She took the chastity bra and put it on. It was also a very tight fin, especially over the corset portion. Again, struggling, she was able to link the ends between the boob cuffs and locked everything in place.

She got up and walked to the long mirror of the bedroom, on the closer door. She looked simply stunning, shiny black and silver was a very good combination. She tried to touch her breasts, to feel them, but the steel cups were doing their job, and were not moving.

She applied the steel cuffs to her wrists, fastening them tightly.

Going back to the suitcase, she retrieved a rather large gas mask with hoses dangling from it. It had been custom made for her by a well reputed company, and included a built-in blow-up gag and feeding tube, along with dark tinted lenses.

To put it on, she actually had to sit at a table. She hobbled her way to the kitchen, feeling, for the first time, the whole extent of her setup. She would never go that bold alone. She did it because she knew Phil was there… will be there…  to free her.

She sat, her steel cuffs and belt clinging on the hardwood of the chairs of the dining set, pushing on the stiff dildos. She moaned.

Resting the mask face down on the table, she proceeded to feed the deflated bag of the blow-up gag through the tiny mouth hole of the suit, as well as feeding short hoses up her nose, before carefully taking the mask and fixing it to her face, tightening the straps, making sure it was resting comfortably and at the right place. Then, from the side of the snout, she began to push a small button, effectively pumping air into the gag, inflating it, getting it bigger and bigger, until her cheeks were pressing against the sides of the mask.

Should she? Would she?

“No. Let’s not over do it.” she thought as she removed her finger from the pump.

 She took a series of small padlocks and locked each and every strap of the gasmask. It would not be taken off without the keys.

She hobbled back to the bedroom, hearing her heavy breathing through the two small breathing holes.

The last item to put on was a tall steel collar, shaped to follow her neck, to be comfortable on the long run, yet keeping her neck stiff and erect.

The inside was somewhat sticky, so pulling the collar of the suit through it would have been very difficult. It was also a very tight fit, making it almost difficult to swallow. She fastened it with another padlock.

Now each time she  moved her head, there was something like 5 small padlocks swinging, hitting her, revealing their presence, a constant reminder that she was securely locked in.

A length of chain and two padlocks was all there was left to put on. She put the first padlock with the chain on her left wrist cuff. She hesitated. She will have to prepare her food for the next two days. Well, after all, they were nothing else than diet milkshakes.

She fastened the last lock, leaving about 15cm between her wrists.

There. She was all set.

All sealed up, all locked up, all warmed up, with nothing else than wait for Phil, in about… 48  hours.

She walked up to the living room to watch some TV, catching a glimpse of herself in the large entrance mirror, with close to 20 padlocks dangling everywhere, pitch black body enhanced by silver steel.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful.

The night was rather restless. How can one sleep while constantly reminded that she is stuck with huge dildos, waist crushed by a corset and mouth fully inflated. Exhaustion had the best of her.

Saturday morning.

She still had some chores to do: laundry, vacuum, general house cleaning. She told Phil she would take care of it. Now she had to.

It seemed like a good idea… at the time.

But now, with those huge dildos, and especially those bouncing balls inside them, it was devilishly difficult to concentrate on the task ahead, and linking her wrists was not the smartest of ideas.

But she liked the challenge, and that was the reason of the whole setup. She voluntarily left many items dirty, hoping Phil would notice and… punish her accordingly.

On many occasions, she let everything there and rushed to the bedroom, trying her best to orgasm with the magic wand, but the chastity belt was doing its job.

In the middle of the afternoon, she was feeling her mouth quite accustomed to the blow-up gag pressure and decided… well, why not?

She reached for the pump button and gave it a push, inflating the gag, getting her the right feeling. She had to be careful, the only way to deflate it was under the gasmask. If she pumped too much… then again… Her mouth got used to the first pumping.

As she was walking out of the room, she decided that just a small push would probably suffice, being just enough uncomfortable to be bearable in the long run. As she was pushing it, she didn’t notice that she was passing very close to the doorframe, hitting her elbow, pushing on her hand and… giving a full push on the pump.

She moaned and her eyes went wide! Damn! 

That was too much, but it was too late. Well, it would be punishment for wanting too much. It might actually take her mind off the damn dildos.

Rubber creaking, steel clinking, she walked to the kitchen to make a diet shake, she inserted through the tiny feeding tube using a large syringe. 

She wondered what it would be like to live a LIFE like that, permanently encased, chastised, bound, like her doppelganger in those fetish stories on the internet.

The sun was going down and she was letting herself surf on those sexy and fetish thoughts when her phone rang.

Of course, she couldn’t answer, but it’s fucking difficult to let a phone ring without answering, especially when the call comes from… you boyfriend!

She waited. The phone then beeped as a message was left.

She quickly took her phone and listened.

“Hi Karen…” said Phil with a strange voice. “I’m okay, nothing to worry about, but I had a little accident on the lake and… well… you’re gonna have to come and get me because the keys of the truck are now at the bottom of the lake… Call me as soon as you can. Love ya.”

Karen raised her head and catches a glimpse of a woman, encased in rubber and steel, on the living room mirror.



She picked up her phone and sent him a text message:

“Sorry, can’t talk. Whitening strips on.” she lied.

“Ok. Can you come and get me?”


“No need to drive at night. Tomorrow morning.”

“OK, I’ll be there.”

“Love ya. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Yes. Me too.” she typed, absolutely shocked and asking herself what she’s going to do now.

She had three ways to get out of that setup:

  • Get the keys from Phil
  • Get the spare keys that are hiding in a locker at the bus station… much too crowded.
  • Rip and destroy everything.

Only option one was remotely possible. She had nothing to cut padlocks, and the rest was steel cuffs. She figured she would find a solution during the night.

What was fun became annoying. The thought of pleasure was no longer there anymore, so feeling her dildos move along was not a pleasure because it was breaking her concentration.

It changed the whole fetish-bondage feeling. Now, she began to feel what a captive, a slave, would feel, not being allowed out of her predicament, anyways, not as planned as self-bondage with a timer.

The night was restless. She did get some sleep, but it was not good sleep. She had formed a plan, tho.

She would leave very early in the morning, while it’s still dark, so that less people would see her drive, or rather that strange being with a gasmask. She might get pulled over, but it’s not illegal. She hoped.

So, very early, she opened the door of the house and had a peek outside. Heart pounding. Who was around. There’s usually no one at this early hour, but what if? She couldn’t hear much, so if someone was walking by, she wouldn’t hear him.

She was making noise to attract attention. All her chains, at the ankles, on the thigh cuffs, her wrists, all her padlocks, were making metal noises, not counting her tiny steps on the concrete slab of the little walkway from the door to her car.

She opened the door. Damn! The dome light! Now, she was the center of attention. If someone was looking through a window, she directed where to look.

As fast as she could, which was not very fast, she sat sideways on the driver’s seat, then tried to shuffle her legs back in, impaired by the corset, the large intruders of her chastity belt and the fact that her legs were tied together.

She closed the door with a swing of the arm. It closed, but… not enough. She had to push it open and slammed it shut. 

She had been noisy and lit. The contrary of what she wanted to achieve.

She put the key on the ignition and closed her eyes upon realising a hard fact: right now, at that very moment, she deeply regretted taking a stick shift transmission…

It was usually a blast, in tight jeans, high heels boots, moving her legs for the clutch was simply rubbing the crotch seam on her labia. That was fun.

But all bound up, feet linked by a short chain, and her thighs locked, that would be a hard workout. And that was not counting working the pedals in ballet toe boots!

She had to completely let go of the gas pedal to push on the clutch. How the heck was she going to start moving?

And more! She had to practically let go of the steering wheel to shift gear, because of her bound wrists.

She released the clutch very slowly, giving some time for the car to pick up some momentum. Gradually. Slowly.

Well, it took her 8 tries to achieve it, but she did.

Now, she would have to practically run on all stop signs. At very slow speed, mind you, but a picky officer would pull her off. Fortunately, there was no traffic, and the only street light was green.

She was struggling with the clutch, the shifter, all while she was hearing constant rubber brushing, creaking, she was reaching the end of her chains somewhere. 

But the worst part was her chastity belt, and of course, the dildos.

With each bump, the darn balls were moving, sending them vibrations, shakes. She was getting tormented like she never thought possible. She wondered if that was what a Sybian ride felt like.

Finally, she was off the city and into the main road, driving fast, but way under the speed limit.

Phil, at full speed, takes two hours to reach his cabin. Karen was foreseeing three, perhaps four hours.

She hated whoever maintained the road. She usually didn’t mind every little crack in the pavement, but at this moment, yes.

She was panting heavily when, after an hour, she drove off the main road to a dirt road. The sun was getting up but it was still dark. She tanked the overcast for it.

 Then all hell broke loose!

Struggling with the clutch and she shifter, she drove forward on a dirt road, filled with potholes and bumps, loose rocks.

She was screwed. Literally. She was sweating like a pig, feeling the liquid layer run down her spine. Concentrating on the road was hard.

She didn’t think it was possible but, yes… she exploded. Right there, sitting in her car, being bumped, she orgasmed. The vibrations were just too strong. And it was worse because the stimulation didn’t stop.

She almost ran off the road as her mind short-circuited for a few seconds, and stalled the car when she tried to get the control back of the pedals, her tiny footprints slipping off the pedals.

It took her four attempts to get the car back in motion, and the road Phil’s cabin would only get worse, switching from a rather wide dirt road, to a narrow, one car wide trail. A very bumpy trail.

The good thing was that she knew she was getting close. That’s when the rain began.

Now the road was getting slippier by the minute. Phil needed his 4X4 to go there. All she had was her subcompact car.

The road was transforming into a mud river, especially since it was a rather steep incline. Under the mud, the bare rock of the mountain.

She was doing her best, trying to see where she was going, sight impaired by her dark lenses, the overcast and the pouring rain.

A wheel began to spin and the car slid sideways, sending it close to a ditch. She punched the gas pedal to the floor. She pulled the car back into its track but it died there, sinking into a mud hole.

Reverse, forward. No avail. She was stuck.

Well, at least she was far from the main road, far from civilization and rather close to the cabin. She had been there only once before. She didn’t know the surroundings enough, but she figured she was about half way to Phil’s cabin.

She had no other choice but to walk.

Yes. Walk.

Clad in rubber, sporting a corset, a gasmask, and ballet boots, on a steep muddy trail while the rain was pouring.

At least, she would stay dry.

Sort of…

She got out of the car, struggling and pesting against the chain linking her ankles. She steadied herself as much as she could on the heel, feet easily sinking in the mud. She closed the door, turned around to face the bottom of the slope.

Her feet let go and she flew in the air, landing hard on her butt, hitting the chastity belt, sliding down a few meters.

She let out a loud yelp, totally muffled by her gag, and the gasmask, letting out only a low pitch grunt, but she was definitely hurt… in a good way. That shock had pushed hard and deep on her plugs, triggering an instant pleasure wave, close to an orgasm.

Panting, she tried to compose herself, turn around on her stomach and get back up.

She was forced to make very short stroll because of her chain and the steepness of that portion of the hill, close to 30 degrees.

The rain was washing the mud from her suit, bringing in back to its original shine.

She was  panting hard. After a while, she turned around to see her progression. Damn! She merely made 10 normal steps. She looked up: still two car lengths to reach a plateau.

She continued to climb, her rubber creaking with the water, feeling the plugs doing nothing else but teasing her. The feeling of the rain on her rubber skin was amazing and was only adding to the rest of the simulation.

Twice she fell face first on the mud, her chastity breast cups acting as bumpers. Twice she got back up.

But that third time was one too many. She stayed there, panting, gently rocking her hips on the muddy ground.

She was simply too hot. She wanted to climax! Badly!

The cold mud helped her calm down, but damn! She wanted somuch to orgasm.

She crawled for a while. That didn’t help at all. It even rubbed her thighs even harder.

She got back up, and walked, in short steps. She was seeing the cabin. Well, she thought it was the cabin.

A cracking sound, a flash of light. The thunder roared and rain poured even harder.

From the bottom of her lungs, she screamed. She wondered how it came out, muffled as she was, but shortly after, she saw something move, over where the cabin would be.

It was a man, holding a gun, pointing at her.

“Hold it. Who… What the fuck are you…”

From the distance, he saw the top of a car from the steep portion of the hill.

“Ka… Karen?” he said, approaching slowly, gun pointing.

Karen collapsed on her knees.

He reached to her, and grabbed her in his arms, carrying her to the cabin, the rain cleaning the rest of the mud off her shiny outfit.

“What the hell…” he said, as he put her down on the sofa-bed in the only room of the cabin. “What the fuck is that? What happened to you? Are you hurt? How do you get out of this… thing?”

She raised her bound hands to have him calm down then asked for something to write.

He left and when he came back, she was sound asleep. Exhausted.


He looked at her by the dim light of the fireplace, the fire reflecting on her shiny suit. Her breathing was regular. She seemed okay. With each breath, he could hear the rubber creaking under the strain. When she moved, the steel of her restraints were clicking on each other.

That was obviously her own setup. He knew about her kinky side. Well, honestly, he didn’t know, he only suspected, with her constant tight jeans, high heels. She had mentioned BDSM and latex fetish a few times, like testing the grounds.

She looked wonderful. She wasn’t looking in pain. He was drawn by those fetish images, but never experienced anything, and especially not anticipating having a woman wrapped in rubber and chained up in front of him

Hesitant, he approached his hand, touching her thigh. Her tightly latex encased thigh. He liked the touch. It felt warm and cold at the same time, but incredibly smooth. He ran his hand up, along her corset, trying to imagine how tight and rigid it was.

And that steel belt, locking her sex off. He smiled at the shiny steel breast cups. They took a beating. They were scratched and dented.

She softly moaned and he approached.

She struggled to sit down and he helped her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softly, while taking her latex gloved hand.

She nodded yes and pointed to the pen and pad besides him. He gave them to her.

She wrote, explaining that it was her setup, that she was kinky, that this was part of her life, that she wanted to surprise him when he would get back, that HE had the keys to free her. And that she hoped she would be a part of it too. If not, just to drive her home and she will take everything off by herself and never see him again.

He read the message, his eyebrows raising from time to time as he read the detailed explanation of her setup, then put down the paper and looked at her, looking sad.

Karen braced for the news: he wasn’t into kinks.

He gently nodded his head.

“So, you left the keys in the case of my fishing lures?” he asked.

Karen nodded yes.

“I’m sorry, Karen, but… my fishing gear is all down at the bottom of the lake, along with my car keys. I lost them all when I flipped over yesterday.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, but of course, because of the dark lenses, he couldn’t see them. She frantically pointed back to the pad and pen.

She wrote where her spare set was, at the bus station.

“Ah… okay. So, you want me to drive you back to my place then get the keys?”

Karen nodded no. She didn’t want to risk being seen like that in broad daylight. She suggested she would wait here while he went to get the keys, then bring back some clothes for her and then, they would both go back.

“Okay. I can go around your car where it is. It’s no problem. So, where are those keys and my spare keys for the truck, because you did bring them, right?”

“In my car” wrote Karen.

“Well, better go get them.” he said, getting up, opening the door and looking at Karen.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked.

She struggled to get back up, hobbling to the door. She grabbed him to come along.

“Hey, no way. I have no rain gear, while you… Come on. Go get those keys” he said, laughing, gently pushing Karen out.

Karen stumbled forward, in the mud and fell on her knees, with the rain pouring on her. She turned around and looked back at Phil. He was now dead serious and pointing to the car. He was ordering her.

She had to… obey her master.

She struggled to get to the car and back. Took her over half an hour. When she entered the cabin, all dripping and muddy, he was hammering something in the corner. Of the cabin, at mid level.

“Oh, finally, you’re back. Come here.” he said, indicating the corner, pointing to the floor. “Kneel.” he said, putting Karen facing the corner.

He took a few screws and fastened her ankle chain to the floor. Then he brought her arms down and fastened the chain with more screws between her knees. Finally, he threaded a rope from the front ring of her wide collar and hung it to the ring he had just installed higher up. It was forcing Karen to kneel. She could barely rest her buns on her heels. Doing so, was pulling hard on her collar. But if she tried to kneel up, her hands tied to the floor were preventing her from reaching a fully raised position. It would be hellish.

“There. Next time, be better prepared in case something happens. Now, it’s two hours to get to my place, another hour to get to the bus station and back, and two more hours to come back here. I should be here in the middle of the afternoon. Don’t worry, the rain is supposed to stop and the sun will be back by then.”

He bent and kissed her on her latex covered head. 

“Love you” he whispered, before walking out of the cabin. Surprisingly, the rain had already stopped.

She stood there. She was happy to rest, although this was not exactly a restful position. When she was sitting on her ankles, the rope pulled hard on her collar, and it quickly became uncomfortable, and she couldn’t raise her hips high enough to be balancing on her knees. It will be a very tough five hours, although…

Each time she raised and lowered, she was moving her butt, moving her dildos, moving the devilish steel balls.

She began slowly, building the feeling, taking the momentum, and especially the right timing where everything worked together: her breathing, the balls hitting their stops, her butt hitting her ankles.

Slowly the orgasm built up. Slowly, the power increased. The dildos being of different size, the balls were not always in sync, but when they were, darn!

She was breathing hard, smelling the rubber. She could hear and feel the latex creaking with each swing of her hips, squeezing her buns against the plugs, jerking their motion, she was ready to explode, if only… yes, she had found the pattern, the resonant frequency, the bonds, the restriction, the corset, the gasmask, the latex catsuit, the ballet heels…  just a few more…

All hell broke loose. She launched, went who knows where, but it was colorful, wonderful, powerful. It was engulfing her whole body in an uncontrollable convulsion, held only by her bonds. The hormones ran from her head to her heels in powerful fushes she was feeling down to the tip of her fingers.

Not being gagged, she would have been heard on the other side of the universe. She screamed.

Her body was shaking hard, so hard that the few hand driven screws Phil tentatively put to keep her still ripped off the planks, sending her flying on the floor. She rolled on her stomach, rocking her hips hard so the chastity belt would hit the wooden floors, jerking the dildos, moving the plugs. Screwing her hard.

Her mind was nothing more than a mushy mass of pure pleasure. Nothing else counted. Nothing else existed.

Gradually, the effect subsided and she calmed down, panting, still gently rocking her hips, trying to get the last feeling, the last spike of electricity, the last… whatever that was.

Exhausted, she lost it.

When she woke up, the sun was high. It was probably past noon. She struggled to get to the sofa. Her body was aching from everywhere, like if she had tumbled down a cliff or something. She got on the sofa and went immediately back to sleep, only to be awakened by Phil as he finally got back to the cabin.

“What… How did you…? He asked, seeing her there, and the splinter of wood where his screws were.

Karen had taken a sitting position and simply raised her shoulders in a “I don’t know what happened”

“Anyways… I hope this is correct, all I found was two keys, but you have a lot more padlocks than that.” he said.

Karen nodded yes and extended her hands to take it. Phil complied. Two keys. One with a green tab, the other with a red tab. She flipped the lock on her wrist cuffs to show the red tab, then flipped the lock of the chain linking her cuffs showing the green dot. She took the locks off the chain, freeing her hands then her ankles. She then handed him the red dot key and gestured for the gasmask locks.

Phil went to work and a few moments later, she was releasing the straps of the mask, pulling it off slowly, then reaching for the deflating valve, inside the mask. Phil had no clue what she was doing until he heard a hissing sound as the air was forced out, then she pulled out the deflated bag out of her mouth. Phil went wide-eyed.

“You had that in there?”

“Yes.” she said with a raunchy voice. You… You’re okay with all this?” she asked. “Be honest. If you don’t like that I… I…”

“I admit that I was taken by surprise. I don’t know how it will go. Did I do okay with that, you know, ordering you to the car, tying you to the wall… although I must improve my fastening skills.” she said.

“We’ll work it out together. That is if you want to.”

“I… okay… Now, I would guess you want to get out of that?” he said, pointing to her outfit.

“Yes, that would be good, and… damn. You don’t have a shower here, haven’t you?”

“No, I mean… I take a dip in the lake.”

“Uh… okay. That would have to do. Afterwards, we’ll each take our cars and drive back to your place, right?”

“Yeah…” he said, evasively. “About your car…”

“What is it?”

“Well, the heavy rain and the mud kind of caught on it and… it’s lying sideway on the ditch.”

“Oh… I see… Well, it was a piece of junk anyways. That means… that I don’t have to drive, don’t I? I mean, I’m coming back with you, right?”

“Err… Yes. Why? It’s difficult to see but I sort of see a smile by that small hole.”

“That means that I don’t have to get out of that right now. Lets drive back home and have some more fun.” she said, brushing against him, putting her gloved hand on her obviously erect member.”

“But… people will see you like that and…”

“Honestly, Phil, right now, I don’t give a fuck what people think. Let’s go!” she said, hopping away on her ballet heels, squirming her hips, balancing her arms, heading for the passenger side of the pick-up truck.

“Come on, Phil. There’s more for you at home…”

“I… Right… Erm… Yes… “ he was saying, turning in a circle, like totally lost. “What the hell have I put myself into” he mumbled as he walked to the truck eyes wide at that latex clad sexy woman’s body, and her erect, almost painful member.

As she was passing by the truck bed, she stopped and plunged her hand in.

“Say, that trail is rather bumpy, and I’m not sure the seat belt will be enough to hold me down. Think we could use these?” she said, getting out a handful of ratchet straps.

“I…” began to say Phil.

“There’s only four. Got any more?” added Karen.

“Duugg.. Gah…… Yghhes…”

© Pete / monsterp63, October 6, 2018

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