-1- First Ad
She opened her shopping cart from the on-line store and took a long look at the content, before, with a sigh, remove every single item from her cart: thigh high boots, lacy booties, sexy sandals, convenient wedges, the latest model of Freddy jeans, other pants and skirts, dresses, frilly, sexy, casual tops, and finally, leather, nylon, cotton, all kind of jackets, until there was nothing left in her cart.
Apparently satisfied, she closed off the application and let herself drop on her chair, actually sinking into the worned out, malfunctioning desk chair.
She looked at her small, filthy apartment, the only one she could rent. That was not the life she was hoping for.
As she was about to close her old laptop, a pop-up sprung on the screen.
“Make up to $1000 per week in cash. Easy, no hassle.”
Desperate for money, she pushed the screen back, while it flickered a few times because of worned-out connections,she clicked on the link.
The answer was slow. After all, she was tapping on some neighbor’s network to access the Internet, and her PC was still on a 5 generation old Windows system.
Finally, the ad opened. It was vague, full of gibberish, but it appeared to be something about long term wear of some clothes and/or accessories. The $1000/week was prominently displayed.
She figured she had nothing to lose. She got on the next public transit bus and headed for the address indicated in the ad, which was plain downtown. She entered the all glass skyscraper and got into the all shiny stainless steel elevator, pushing the button for the desired level: 12.
There, she looked for the suite, and pushed the heavy and thick glass door, getting into a luxury lobby, where a receptionist was sitting behind a large desk with multiple computer screens.
The receptionist raised her head to look at who was coming in: a tall, slim woman, brown shoulder length hairs, ample breasts, thin waist, wearing a worn-out leather jacket, ripped jeans and wedge sneakers.
To a casual observer, Karen was just wearing the latest trend. It was in fact a leather jacket she found in an alley, her sneakers had multiple coats of tape inside to keep them together, and her ripped jeans were not designer jeans, but what was left or her once perfectly good jeans.
The receptionist smiled at Karen.
“Hello, how may I help you?” she asked with a very calm and friendly tone.
“I… Well, I just saw that ad on my computer…” began to say Karen, looking around, realizing how rich and posh this place was, and totally feeling out of place “and… I don’t think this is for me…” she said, lowering her head, and slowly turning around.
“Miss?” said the receptionist. “Can I be the judge of that? We’re not looking for rich people, but true people. This is just… decor.” she said, getting out from behind her desk, revealing she was wearing very tight Freddy leather jeans and high heels booties, like Karen wished to order a few hours earlier, and a rather tight fitting, knitted long sleeve shirt with a high collar. “Just fill out this form,” she said, handing Karen an electronic tablet “and we’ll take it from here. Please.” she said with a very friendly tone.
Karen smiled. It was the first time in a while she wasn’t treated as a piece of junk. She sat in the comfy chair, almost moaning at how comfortable it was, and began to fill the blanks.
Name, address, phone number, all was pretty standard. Name of the father? She put none. She didn’t know who her father was. Name of mother? Yes she knew her name, but not her, as she had dumped her at an orphanage before running away with another “father”.
Relatives? None. She was sent from one foster family to the next until she was kicked out being a so-called adult.
Current job: part time barista.
Previous job experience: none, except for the house chores her foster families had her do.
Modeling experience: Karen laughed as she selected NONE in the answer field.
She pressed the send button and walked back to the receptionist desk to hand over the tablet, go back home and forget about all this. The receptionist’s computer bleeped and she looked at her screen, eyes widening.
“Err. Miss Karen. If you just wait here for a few minutes, someone will be with you for an interview.” she said, punching a few keys and inviting Karen, with a very warm smile, to take back a seat.
Puzzled, Karen complied. Not believing. She figured it was probably more to make sure she wasn’t making a joke, that she was really such a loser.
Less than a minute later, Karen heard weird creaking sounds and click clacking sounds, like pointy heels hitting a tiled floor, before being muffled by the carpet, but the creaking sounds become louder.
A tall, short haired, blonde woman appeared from a corridor behind the back wall of the receptionist’s desk. She was wearing a very tight fitting leather jacket, equally tight fitting leather jeans, high heel boots, and leather gloves. All white.
And she had a whitish face, almost ghost-like, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, with her bright red were the only things contrasting. Approaching Karen, she extends an arm, obviously impaired by the extremely tight sleeves.
Karen was taken aback from the sight, and also the strong musk smell of the leather: this was no cheap imitation.
“Hello. You must be Karen.” said the woman with a german or something accent. “My name is Erika. I would like know more about you, Karen. Would you please come with me?”
The skin of her face appeared stiff, like waxed. Karen shook her hand, feeling the fine and soft leather of her glove, looking at her, from head to toe, puzzled as to why someone would dress like that to go to work, and even more, why keeping the gloves.
“Err… Yes… Sure.” answered Karen, like in a daze.
“This way, please.” said Erika, showing the direction of the corridor she just came from, extending her arm, again, limited by the tightness of the leather sleeve.
Erika took the lead as soon as Karen began to walk, leading her through the rather long corridor that had a few doors on either sides, leaving the plush carpet for the marble tiled floor. Karen was staring at Andrea’s butt, admiring how the tight leather was following every crease her firm butt was making as she walked on her skyscraper heels, as if they were slippers.
She was twisting her hips in a weird manner, so much that Karen had the thought that she was wearing some kind of medical brace under it, but on such a thin waist… no wait. A corset?
She was dragged out of her thoughts when she entered an equally white office, with everything being white but with bright red accents.
Erika offered Karen a seat by the desk, seat covered by white leather with red piping. She then turned to her computer screen to look at some files.
“That’s really interesting, Karen. Now, how is your general health? You seem fit.”
“Well, I think I’m good. I mean, I haven’t had a physical in a long time, but, as far as I know, I’m good.”
“You work out?”
“Involuntary.” answered Karen giggled. “I mean, I have no car, so I walk.”
“Of course.” said Erika, also giggling. “Oh, I notice that you haven’t put name under emergency contact. That very important. May I have name?” she said, preparing to type Karen’s answer.
“That’s because I… I have no one.”
“What do you mean, no one? A friend, an acquaintance, a co-worker?” asked Erika.
“No… not really.” said Karen. “I sort of… take care of my own, and for my co-workers, I work only four hours a week, so, I can barely remember their names.”
“Oh, I see.” said Erika, putting her arms in front of her, on her desk, hand to hand, leather creaking, and leaning her upper body slightly forward, “if you, say, go away for long period. Would that cause problem?”
“Go away? You mean like travelling?” asked, puzzled, Karen.
“Yes, like… traaavellling.” said Erika.
“No… No problem. I… I would love to travel.” said Karen, smiling.
“What about your roommate, rent?”
“I live alone and I have nothing in that shit hole, and I may afford something more… appropriate, I mean, it’s $1000/week, right?”
“Ah… Yes, up to $1000/week. So, you could… disappear from the city and nobody would notice?”
“Erm… well, I… When you put it that way, that sounds creepy.”
“Oh, I’m very sorry” said Erika with her strong german accent. “I still have problem managing the English language. What I mean is that you be gone for long time on… traaavelllling. Could anyone be searching for you? Keep contact?”
“Well, I… Err…no. No one in particular.” said Karen, realizing at the same time how empty and void her life was.
Erika smiled, creating weird wrinkles on her whitish waxy looking face.
“I may have offer for you, Fraulein.”
-2- First Contact
“Really? Where?” asked Karen, suddenly all joyous.
“It is an… undisclosed… location.” answered Erika.
“What will I do there?” askes Karen, suddenly not so sure.
“Err… Long time testing of environment suit, ya.” said Erika, nodding as if satisfied of what she had just said.
“Long time… How long?”
“Until the suit is fully tested, of course” said Erika with a condescending tone.
Karen was finding the answers vagues, but what did she have to lose?
“Euh… Okay, I’m in.” said Karen.
“Oh. Wounderrful!” exclaimed Erika, producing a document, written in German.
“I… I can’t read this.” said Karen.
“Just normal legal things.” said Erika, brushing it off. “I’m out of English version, ya.”
All the alarm bells should have rang inside Karen’s brain, but they didn’t. She browsed it and was satisfied when she read “$1000” amidst the text, she figured it was safe enough. After all, the amount was there, in writing.
Erika took the document, scanned it, punching a few keys on her computer, then smiled.
“You are accepted. Welcome.” she said. “You will need to give notice to your actual job, then you will come with us.”
“Oh.” said Karen. “I only work about four to eight hours a week, filling up for missing employees. It’s no trouble, really. They won’t mind.”
“No. Proper procedures. During this time, you will learn sign language.”
“Sign language? Like for the deafs?”
“Yes. With suit, no talking. You use sign language to talk.”
“Why can’t we talk?”
“Helmet and tubes.”
“Tubes?” asked a very puzzled Karen.
“Yes, tubes for feeding in helmet. Long term suit.”
“Oh, like a spacesuit?”
“Yes, like a spacesuit, but for the Earth. You have to come back as often as you can, to train the language and the suit”
-3- First Training
“Well, I’m free now for the day. I’m ready to start right now, if you like.” said Karen, more eager to learn what she put herself into than to really start to work. She could always walk out. You always have time to bail out of a contract.
Erika led her to another room where she was sat in front of a computer, equipped with a camera. Karen took place and began to learn sign language, making the symbols to the camera which were confirming if the gestures were right.
Erika left, her leather creaking and high heels clicking, echoing in the otherwise empty room until she closed the door behind her.
This went on for quite a while and it quickly became mentally exhausting.
Erika went back to the room. Karen didn’t have to turn. The sounds were now familiar, but there was someone else with her: the receptionist, carrying a few boxes.
“Lynda will help you with the uniform.” said Erika as the receptionist put down the boxes on the desk next to the computer. “I will see you for lunch.” she said, leaving, heels clicking.
Lynda was not to be left out with her very tight leather jeans and high heel booties.
”Did Erika tell you about the environment suit?” asked Lynda.
“Just that it’s for prolonged wear.” answered Karen.
“Yes, that’s its function. However, the suit is quite tight fitting and includes very special footwear. To help you get used to it, I brought you a few items of clothing. They are… street wise meaning that you will be able to wear them home, and even sleep with them.”
“Sleep with them? I usually sleep naked.” said Karen.
“Not anymore.” said Lynda, with a wink.
She opened the first box and produced what Karen thought was a long sleeve dress for a little girl.
“This is actually a compression shirt.” said Lynda. “It is made to… compress. It looks really tight. Well, it is, but quite comfortable, once you get used to it.” she said, picking up another box. “Jeans. Skinny jeans to be exact., Since they’re stretchy, I simply picked up a size that should work for you.”
Karen went wide eyes. The waist was about as wide as her thigh, and the tight about as wide as her upper arm.
“Yes, that’s a tight fit, but you’ll simply love it.” she said, rubbing her own butt, pinching the leather, showing at the same time that they were so tight that she couldn’t even pinch it.
She followed by booties, similar to hers, with a 10cm high heel.
“Better get your feet used to strange footwear with these. Don’t worry, the heel seems quite high, but there’s a platform. It’s about 8cm high.” she said, like this was perfectly normal.
“Geesh that’s… weird.”
“Only seems weird. I’ll leave you to get dressed. If you need help, just call me.” said Lynda, leaving the room.
Karen proceeded, starting with the shirt. The sleeves were about half the size of her own arms. She struggled to put them through. The fabric was indeed stretching, but she could feel its tightness. She began by feeding her arms, and when they were pretty much as far as they could be, she put her head through the narrow opening, which included a turtle neck like collar.
“Oh my gosh!” said Karen, when the shirt ended up rolled up between her breasts and her armpits. “How…”
She struggled to get it out of there, and pulled it down her torso. It had somewhat molded cups for her breasts, but they were getting really squished. She had to tug hard on it to pull it down, over her stomach, down to her hips.
“That for sure is compressing.” she said, rubbing her hand over the smooth and silky fabric, which sent tiny tinglings sensations. She had to work to breath, to fight against the tightness of the shirt.
She then picked up the jeans, and looked them up before putting in front of her, close to her legs.
“I’m never gonna fit in these.” she said, trying to feed them up her right leg.
Again, the fabric was surprisingly stretchy but still very tight. She had to use a lot of tugging, pulling and some dancing moves to get them up to her crotch. She decided to wait and put the booties first before fastening them, which proved to be a wise choice because once fastened, she could hardly sit straight, even less thinking about bending down to reach her feet.
She made small steps, to get accustomed to the extreme heels, well extreme from what she was used to wear. The tightness created by her extremely tight denim jeans seemed to make it easier to walk in heels.
Her waist was getting squished. The jeans were very tight but also had some kind of boning preventing the high waist from rolling down.
She tried to sit back at the computer but she was too disturbed by all those new sensations, the constant fight against the tight fabric to breath, the feeling on her arm each time she tried to bend it, the constant hugging feeling around her hips from the jeans, and the heels… She continued her exercises standing up, making the gestures, rubbing her elbows against her squashed breasts, the silky fabric gliding, brushing… exciting.
Each time she was missing an exercise, out of frustration, she would slap her hands on her thighs. However, the tight fabric returned the favor by spreading the hit, especially toward her crotch. She was quick to realize the effect. Rapidly, one of her hands was sliding toward her crotch, and she was starting to wiggle on her feet.
In her office, Erika was looking at her computer screen, at the images sent by the hidden camera of the learning room. She smiled. Things were even better than expected.
-4- First Time Home
Going home. Easy to say.
Walking on her newly acquired high heels demanded some practice, and standing up in a crowded bus, being tossed around, was one heck of an exercise.
Her tight clothes also attracted their share of stares, some were indifferent, some envious, some disgusted, and some were drooling.
Karen? She was… a wreck.
Her legs could barely support her as she got down the bus. She had experienced a lot of rubbing, some voluntary, but most involuntary, pushing her, tossing her, hitting her, all had made her… HOT! She loved the feeling, the small tingling, the tickling it gave her.
As she began to walk from the bus stop to her apartment, the rubbing at her crotch proved to be too much. She was climaxing, right there, on the sidewalk, in front of her building.
“Ah come on! They’re just jeans!” she said to herself. “Devilishly tight jeans…”
She recomposed herself. Nobody cared. Not in this neighborhood anyways. Oh, well, perhaps waiting for her to collapse and take off her clothes and shoes! That has value. But her? Nope.
She climbed the stairs with difficulties, the extreme legs movements only creating more rubbing. Legs shaping, she entered her filthy apartment and rushed to the bed, where she collapsed, on her back, hips raising up and down, hands at her crotch. Yes, she would. No… That’s silly, It’s just jeans, but… She muffled her scream as the pleasure engulfed her.
As if on cue, at the same time the pleasure wave died out, her phone ding: a notification. She looked at it.
“New bank account created. Thank you. Click here to see the balance” – Central Bank.
She grinned. Another one of those spams. She was about to swipe it off when a text message popped up
“You didn’t have a bank account to deposit your advanced pay. I’ve created one for you. Hope you don’t mind. Just complete the registration and it’s yours.”
She raised her eyebrows. Well, if this was a scam she had nothing to lose: she didn’t have any money. She completed the few remaining steps, and her jaw dropped at the balance: $5000.
The first thing in her mind was to get new clothes, then her hands rubbed her tight jeans, and sent tingling sensations again.
“Hum… I’ll wait…”
-5- First Plugs
The night was not very restless. Sleeping with clothes so tight on proved to be almost impossible. She kept turning and turning. It was the middle of the night when she undressed and finally found sleep.
The thought of putting everything back on was not a eager one, but once she was tightly wrapped, feeling the constant hugging once more, things got better
The commute that morning was slightly… happier. She knew what to expect and was able to control the urges. This went on for a week without any issues, except that, the more days were passing by, the more she loved what she once considered insanely tight clothes.. Over the weekend, although the instructions were to keep everything on, she decided to get back on her worned out jeans, only to feel…naked? Weird. She was back into the tight outfit within the hour, and took long walks, being whistled quite a lot. That built her confidence and, unconsciously, began to walk with her body a lot straighter, shoulders pushed back, which pushed her breasts forward, getting them more squished, getting… oh my gawd!… She wanted more!
On the next monday, she was now very much used at the stares, the whistling and the, ahem… accidental… brushing by some people, generally always the same. Yes, mostly guys, but also some gals.
As she was settling down for the sign language lessons, Erika inquired about how she was feeling and she was very pleased by her report. A few minutes later, Lynda came in with two boxes.
“I have a few things for you.” she said. “I especially noticed that you have quite an old phone. We’re providing you with one. It’s all set up and ready to go. It got full data access.” she said, handing the brand new, top of the line smartphone.
Karen went wide-eyed.
“Wow… Thanks. It’s even more powerful than my old beat-up computer!” she said, eyes sparkling. She never had something so expensive in her hands.
Lynda put the other box down, opened it and smiled at Karen’s wide eyes.
“Oh, I also got that for you.” said Lynda, showing two huge intruders. One was a rather long and large dildo, the other a steel butt plug.
Karen was stunned..
“You don’t expect me to put these on, don’t you? That’s a joke, right?”
“It’s not.” said Lynda, smiling. “Believe me, you would not want to take them off after a short adaptation period.”, she said, still smiling, a weird smile. Karen went wide-eyed, again.
Lynda simply nodded and put a gentle hand at her crotch, tightly covered with thick, very shiny PVC jeans. She was still sporting a snug fitting, cotton, long sleeved shirt with a rather high collar, as if she wanted to conceal as much skin as possible, and at the same time, showing her body as much as possible. There was a strange smell that accompanied her every move, that Karen couldn’t identify. Then again, she was not very knowledgeable about perfumes.
“You didn’t believe me when I said you wouldn’t want to take those clothes off, yet here you are. So… Believe me for these. I’ll let you do this privately, unless you need help.” said Lynda. “For the butt plug, just relax and use lots of lube. You can lock the door behind me.” she said, simply strolling away, her legs reflecting the lights of the room, high heels clicking.
Karen, hands shaking, locked the door, then stared at the intruders for a while. She had sex before, but her… companions were never equipped with anything that large! As for the butt plug, she figured it would be the most difficult to put on, and thought that, putting the dildo last, would simply be a nice reward.
She took off her tight jeans. No need to take off her underwear, she wasn’t wearing any anymore, but she wished she had.
She took the plug and admired the shape with her hands, applied a large amount of lube and tried to push it in.
It wouldn’t go. Damn, that thing would never fit!
She tried to relax, but that was not easy. However, feeling something being pushed in was… interesting, and her mind slowly changed from “it would never fit” to “I wonder how it will feel”. Her body began to relax as she was gently, yet firmly, stroking it in and out, sort of telling her rectum to open up for the treat.
As it pushed in more and more, she felt she was trying to insert a rugby ball. And then, all of a sudden, it went in. She gasps! She never thought her eyes could open as wide as that, probably because her mouth was opened as wide.
Still bending forward, she leaned against the computer desk, panting, slowly getting back upright, feeling that huge thing up her butt, as if something was half way… oh, the thought was disgusting.
But the feeling? Weird. Very weird. She hobbled along in a circle, trying to figure out if her body would simply push it out, like it was supposed to do, or keep it in, as she wanted it to do.
She kept squishing her butt, not exactly knowing what to expect.
She looked at the box and the huge dildo, and her eyes almost flipped over, thinking that she also had that one to stuff at the front!
At least, that she had experience. Well… some experience.
She lubed it and gently inserted it. She couldn’t repress a moan as, inside her, the two huge intruders were playing in the same area.
She couldn’t refrain from stroking it in and out a few times. Her body temperature was increasing rapidly. She was bringing herself to a climax when she realized what she was doing, she stopped, and quickly turned around to see if anyone was watching. She let out a sight as she confirmed the door closed and locked.
Little did she know that she was very well watched, and that the watcher was pleased by the results.
She pushed the dildo fully in, biting her lips, moaning, then quickly pulled her tight jeans on over them, causing her to make a very low, guttural grunt as her hips was squished all around, further pulling everything in when she fastened the waist band, which pulled the jeans at her crotch.
With a hand at her crotch, she slowly walked around. There was a knock on the door, almost as on cue.
“Are you done? Do you need help?” she heard Lynda’s voice through the door.
Karen unlocked the door and let Lynda in, who repressed a laugh.
“You should see your face!” exclaimed Lynda. “Oh… I’m so sorry, it’s just… you’ll get used to it.” she said, still smiling. Apparently, Karen’s face was triggering laughter.
“That’s… intense.” managed to say Karen, her body jerking from slight moves, feeling the intruders massage her insides.
“Yes it is, at first.“ Said Lynda. “My advice is, to get used to them, just continue your lessons. Don’t be afraid to sit and stand up as much as you want and if you cum, well, it’s quite okay. In fact, it is expected.”
“Really?” asked a puzzled Karen. “But… I mean… I’ll stain the jeans, and I have to go back home and…” began to nervously say Karen, who was stopped by a friendly hand on her shoulder.
“You’re not going back home with those clothes. We’ll provide you another set that will, ahem… contain any accident.” she said with a wink. “I’ll bring them this afternoon. In the meantime, just concentrate on your exercises.”
“Oh… okay. If you think that would help.”
“It will, but the best would be to use the gym.”
“The GYM?” almost yelled Karen. “I CAN’T go to the gym like THAT!!!”
“No, I mean OUR gym. Clock a few kilometers on the treadmill, or even, if you dare, do some cycling. There’s also cardio videos playing in loops. It’s right there, the door on your left.” she said, showing a door on the corridor.
Karen started with the learning exercises, standing up. The intruders were disturbing, but were bearable. Until she sat down.
THAT was… something. She couldn’t concentrate. At all. Even getting back up, the “damage” was done. She figured that walking it off would be the solution.
She headed for the gym and stepped on the treadmill, putting it at low speed. She felt she was walking with a full diaper, and that it would show. She concentrated on walking straight, and the more it went, the easier it became. As she warmed up, her body seemed to get accustomed with them, or her brain was getting accustomed to them. One thing for sure, she liked it. She liked the constant teasing, and most of all, she knew she could control the urges.
In the afternoon, Lynda came in with a new pair of tight jeans, these ones being similar to hers, looking like leather Freddy Jeans, except for the inside: it was lined with something smooth, to which Lynda produced some lubricant.
“Better put a little bit of this on your legs first, this is a tight fit, and the inside is lined with latex, which takes care of any… mishap.” she said with a wink.
That was, again, a new feeling. It felt cold at first, but it quickly warmed up. It was tight, yet stretched, and, most importantly, it was keeping the… toys… in place. The pants had a very high waist portion which even had soft boning to prevent rolling down. It was reaching her rib cage, and it was very, very tight. Almost acting like a corset.
And the smell. Weird. She smelled that before, but where?
When she walked, the rubber liner seemed to glide on her thighs, which was creating a very interesting feeling. Again, to get used to them, she decided to get a few more strolls on the treadmill, which helped cope with that new rubbing feeling, and especially feeling a lot more warm and … wet.
She had everything under control. She thought.
That was until the commute back home. The bus had to go through a long construction zone, very bumpy, and quite hard. Karen was sitting, and was being shaken up, down and sideways, playing with the intruders, pumping the plugs up and down and up and down.
At one point, she grabbed the seat in front of her under the amused look of the fellow passengers, and closed her eyes. Yes. She was having an orgasm, right there, on the bus, in front of dozens of strangers. As if perfectly timed, the bus got out of the construction zone, hitting the last hard bump going back up to the paved street, at the same time she was climaxing.
She couldn’t refrain a yelp, clinching the seat with her hand so hard that her fingers poke through the soft cushion liner.
When she calmed herself down and opened her eyes, she was met with a bunch of inquisitive eyes.
“I…. I… just… erm…. Went to a… very bad… gynecological exam.” she managed to make up, with a soft voice.
The men quickly looked away and the women made an understanding, disgusted grin. She avoided the worse. For now…
Walking to her apartment was also hellish. She felt always being teased and tormented, and not being allowed to touch, otherwise she would draw a lot of attention.
She was eager to simply collapse on her bed, this time, rocking her hips up and down, her hand at her crotch. Gawd!! That was good and quite disturbing.
She heard a strange song and realized it was her new phone. It was Lynda. She answered.
“Hello Karen. How was your trip back home.” asked Lynda, with an obvious laugh in the voice, knowing what had probably happened.
“Fuck you.” said Karen, laughing. You called me for that?
“Yes and no. If you look at your phone, you’ll see an app that has the icon of a bright pink heart. Try it. Have fun.” she said, hanging up without leaving time for Karen to ask any kind of question.
Puzzled, she launched the app. It just had a series of square buttons, with nothing written on it, as if the app was bad or bugged. She tried to figure out what to do. She punched one of the buttons.
“FUCKING SHIT!” she yelled as her eyes went wide eyes and she gasps for air. “THEY VIBRATES!”
-6- First Suit
She came to work with one of those weird smiles, the next day, as if she had been high all night. Well, she had been, but not on weed…
In fact, she completely drained out the plugs, which was probably a good thing, because she still had to commute the next day to go to work. The bus went again over the construction area, but it did nothing much than a small thrill. She had lived more. A heck of a lot more, the night before. Everything else was just… boring?
Not surprisingly, she kind of accepted to wear the plugs as long as she could, taking them off for hygiene reasons only.
After a few days, when Karen seemed to be feeling very good about the inserts, Lynda came in with another, rather large, box.
Since the toys, Karen was expecting, hoping for anything that Lynda would come up with. She frowned when she saw the long rubbery garment.
“That’s a latex catsuit.” said Lynda, showing the long item, keeping it up in the air, holding it by the shoulders.”
“That’s… nice,” said Karen, touching it. “But a wee bit small, don’t you think and… how the heck do you put that thing on? There’s no zipper. At all!”
“You put it on through the neck.”
“No way!” exclaimed Karen, wide eyes. “I don’t believe you. There must be a hidden closure system or something.”
“Nope.” said Lynda, taking the neck and stretching it as wide as Karen became when she saw it. “You’ll have to get totally naked to put it on, as we need to use lubricants. And oh, you might want to go to the bathroom, to take off the plugs.”
“Oh…” said Karen, kind of disappointed. “I have to take the… toys out?”
“Yes, the suit had integrated ones.” said Lynda with a wink, which gave Karen her smile back, much to the pleasure of Lynda, and Erika, who was still watching through the hidden security camera.
“If you’re not shy about getting naked in front of me, I can help you put it on.” said Lynda.
Karen thought for an instant, and since Lynda was bringing in toys and talking openly about them, well… why not. She undressed, evidently struggling with the extra tight, latex lined clothes. Lynda put on latex gloves and helped Karen remove her actual toys.
She moaned in the process, a mix or disturbing, and arousing sensations at the same time.
Again, she smelled Lynda’s strange perfume. Lynda offered her a bottle of lubricant and instructed her to put a thin layer all over her body, which she did. Then she helped her put one feet into the suit, which had attached toe socks. That made Karen giggled when her toes were individually wrapped.
“Coo effect! She said.
Then the other foot was fed down the latex, currently all crumpled down at her feet. Lynda then told Karen to gently pull the suit up while she was rubbing and removing the wrinkles on her legs as it went upward.
When the suit reached her waist, Karen could feel the intruders, and they seemed huge!
As Karen took the proper position, Lynda gently pushed in both dildos, which made Karen moan.
“Darn. They’re a lot bigger than the other ones!” said Karen in-between two breath, as Lynda gave the final push on the butt plug.
“I believe they are, but they are sized by very knowledgeable people.” answered Lynda.
Karen wanted to know who those knowledge people were, but as the plug came in, Lynda gave a hard slap on Karen’s butt, to put a point on a job well done, then continued to pull the suit on, instructing Karen to feed one arm, then the other through the very stretched neck opening.
The suit, almost by itself, then rose up over her breasts, and covered her body up to her neck with a strange, yet funny, succion sound.
Karen stretched her arms, wiggling her fingers into the attached gloves, feeling the tight rubber wrapping her body, hugging it equally everywhere. She moved her legs, putting her hands at her crotch and butt, to settle the toys in place.
Lynda stook back and admired the work.
“Splendid!” she said, looking at Karen black reflection.
Then that smell again. A bulb lit up.
“Latex! You’re wearing a latex catsuit under your clothes!” exclaimed Lynda.
“Yep, very clever.” she said, pulling on her turtleneck shirt’s collar, revealing flesh colored rubber. “I wear one all the time. Now. Okay, now the hood.” said Lynda, producing a head shape lump of latex.
“Hood? Really?” asked Karen.
“To test it, of course” she answered.
But Karen didn’t have time to question back, as the hood was pulled down her head, a large lump of rubber getting stuffed in her mouth, as well as small plugs entering her ears.
Lynda smoothed the yoke of the hood under Karen’s catsuit, then stood in front of her, and talked in sign language.
“Now it’s time to start real practice.”
“That’s intense.” answered Karen, suddenly coping with the tight rubber, the huge intruders, deafness, muteness and even part blindness as her eyes were covered with dark lenses. She felt… isolated. Encased.
“You’re feeling okay? For some, it’s quite overwhelming.” said Lynda.
“I’m fine.” answered, Karen. “How do I pee?” she questioned.
Lynda smiled as she answered. “You will have to hold it for as long as you can for now. This is a test suit. You will take it off when your bladder will no longer hold it.”
“Say what?” questioned Karen.
“It was simpler to wait for you to have it on to explain everything.” said Lynda. “The plugs are huge because they will mold your inside. They need to be heated to do that, and your body will heat them enough.
Then, real plugs will be made, and all the tubes needed for catheters and stuff. The next plugs will be permanent.” said Lynda.
“Wait! Permanent? As… non removable?” asked a startled Karen.
“Permanent for the duration of the suit test. You were told this was for a long term test. So, for as long as the test is going on, you’ll keep them in.”
“Oh… and how long usually are those tests?”
“It depends on a lot of factors, Karen. Each one is differ…”
There was a ringing sound on the PA system.
“Oh. I have to go back to my desk. If you need to pee, just call my extension. I’ll be right over.” she said, as she left, closing the door behind her.
Karen was alone in the room. She began to rub her latex covered fingers, over her latex covered head, feeling her hairs squeezed inside, getting down on her face, cheeks, neck. She felt her breasts, squeezing them gently while moaning. Could she be…aroused?
The suit was very tight fitting, yet there was no pinching. She did feel the tightness and the elasticity of it with every move. She was always feeling it.
She looked toward the box, which seemed rather large to having contain just the suit, and was startled at what was still in it: Ballet boots.
She knew what a latex catsuit was, and of course, ballet boots, but… were they expecting her to wear them?
She was now liking her high heel booties very much. What if she just tried them?
She sat, moaning as the intruders moved along, but not necessarily in the right direction, took the long leather tubes and fed her feet in it.
The fit appeared just right, and the insole, rather soft and cushioned. She laced the long shaft of the boot, reaching just below her knees, breath slightly shaking as it tightened around her leg.
When both boots were tightly laced on, she stretched her legs, looking at the incredible sight of long, never ending legs.
She grabbed a hold of the desk and tried to stand up. That was not easy, and she had to do it four times before being able to stand, knees flexed, not knowing how to balance in them. But they felt great.
Could it be?
Yes, the position was extreme. She gently straightened up her body, pushing on her legs, then made a first tentative step, which went well. Then another one, followed by another one.
She was unsteady, yet, she managed. She walked to the door and back, where she sat on the edge of the desk, wiggling her ankles, admiring the shape of her leg.
Behind her gagged and concealed face, she smiled.
From an office nearby, two women were also smiling, looking at the video monitor.
“No one else walked that easily in the first try. She’s gifted.” said Lynda.
“Yes. Gifted.” answered Erika. “We move on.”
“Yes Madam.” answered Lynda, getting out of the office.
After a few hours, Karen couldn’t hold it anymore and rang Lynda. In a short time, she was out of the boots, suit and plugs and was relieving herself. When she came back, the suit was gone and only her regular tight clothes were there. Yes, the toys were there too, much to her pleasure.
-7- First Corset
When Lynda greeted Karen the next day, she found her with pockets under the eyes, and what looks like a scratch on her right cheek.
“Problem sleeping?” she asked, smiling.
“Yeah.” answered Karen.
“You should turn them off for the night.” said Lynda, with a little motherly tone in her voice.
“I couldn’t.” she said, producing a smash phone. Lynda went wide-eyed.
“What the hell happened?”
“I was mugged yesterday, going back home. I was playing with the toys app on my phone when he tried to grab it. We fought over it. At one point, it flew over on the street as a delivery truck was passing, and, well… he wasn’t interested in the phone afterwards.”
“Oh my gawd! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. He wasn’t interested in me, just the phone. Well, he might have been but after I kicked him in the groin, I think sex was the last thing on his mind. Those booties do kick hard!” she said, smiling.
“Oh… Ouch… Okay, then. Go on with your lessons, if you feel up to it, I’ll be with you shortly with something new.”
“Oh! Cool!” waid Karen, clicking her way to the training room, Lynda inquired one more time to make sure Karen was okay before she headed for Erika’s office.
Karen sat at the computer. The toys batteries were drained out by now, and instead of following the lessons, she quickly fell asleep on the chair, exhausted. She startled when the door opened. Seeing again a box in Lynda’s hands put a smile back on Karen’s face.
“What is it, this time?” she inquired, yawning. “Sorry, I think I fell asleep… at the wheel.” she said with a grin.
“Yeah, you’re definitely too tired. You need to rest, and I may have something” she said, opening the large box. Karen immediately spotted the latex catsuit and grinned.
“Darn. I better go pee now, or I won’t hold it long enough.” she said as she was getting up her chair.
“Oh, no. No need. That suit has a relief zipper. It’s for long term wear without permanent plugs. It’s for you to get accustomed to the rubber.” said Lynda.
“Oh, good then.” said Karen.
“But there’s something more.” she said, picking a rather long and stiff piece of rubber, she unrolled. “A rubber corset.”
Karen’s eyes bulged out when she saw the size of if.
“Are you nuts? That will never fit me.”
“Who says it has to close on the first try?” said Lynda. “Okay, put the suit first, we’ll see how the corset fits after that.” instructed Lynda.
Karen proceeded. Already, the second time was easier than the first one. That neck entry thing was relatively easy, especially with the toys in. Even if they weren’t vibrating, they were fun. She wiggled her toes and her fingers in the attached socks and gloves. It still made her giggles.
Lynda wrapped the garment around Karen’s waist. It was long, covering her from her hips to below her breasts, raising to almost her armpits on the sides. She began to lace it, asking Karen to empty her lungs, each time, pulling on the laces, with each breath, tightening it, tighter, and tighter. Karen’s breath was getting shorter and shorter, and her eyes bigger and bigger.
“How does that feel?” she asked.
“Tight.” said Karen. “How much to close?”
“Oh, about 3 or 4cm. That’s even better than I anticipated.
“And that’s tighter than I had anticipated.” she said, walking around the room, learning to walk with her upper body stiff, working her hips and shoulders only. She rubbed her hand against the tight and rigid garment, feeling her tiny waist, how curvy she was from her waist to her hips, looking at her image through the learning camera on the computer.
“Wow”. she said, then she opened her mouth and closed it without saying a word, having seen, through the camera, behind her, what Lynda was taking something out of the box.
“Yes. you need more practice.”
“Yes, I figure, but with the corset?”
“You’ll be fine. In fact, you’re the most advanced of your group!” said Lynda with a smile.
“My group…” said Karen, looking around. “I’m the only one in the group.”
“Yes, and you are the best!” said Lynda, smiling. “Seriously, you’re one of the most gifted candidates we had in months. You’ll be just fine. Believe me.” as she laced Karen’s feet inside the extreme footwear.
“I… I don’t see how all this will make me rest.” said Karen, opening her arms.
“You won’t have much choice.” said Lynda, taking the last item of the box, a long beige trench coat. “Put this over your suit, you’re coming with me, to my place.”
“T… To your place? What for?”
“To keep you safe. I have a guest room you can use. Don’t worry, everything is settled with Erika. You’ll stay at my place until you’re ready.”
“Oh…Okay… Thanks… … I think…”
Lynda smiled, leading her out of the office, to the parking lot, and to an expensive German SUV, driving off.
She was led to a posh neighborhood, admiring the properties, thinking that, one day, perhaps, she will be able to afford something similar. On one of the huge houses, a garage door opened and Lynda drove in, the door closing as soon as she was in. By the time Karen was ready to get out of the car, the garage door was closed.
“Come,” said Lynda, directing her to the basement entrance accessible from the garage. The inside was rather dark, lit only by a few sparse reddish lights. Lynda led her to a room, where the large bed was covered with bright red, shiny… latex.
“You have a latex bed?” asked puzzled, Karen, while approaching it and touching it. She took off the trench coat then sat on the bed, her lubed suit easily sliding on it. “Cool” she said, giggling.
“Okay, take place.” said Lynda, picking something in her hands.
“Take place, like… on the bed? Uh… okay.” she said, getting in the middle. “It’s missing a blanket or something.” said Karen.
Lynda grabbed Karen’s hand and began to wrap something around her wrist: a leather cuff.
“What are you doing?”
“Fixing you for the bed. This is the guest room bed. It’s a bondage bed. Nobody sleeps on it unrestrained.”
“Say what?” said Karen, shocked, but leaving Lynda to her devices.
Soon both her wrists were stretched out on the opposite corners of the bed, and she was now doing the same thing at her ankles, spreading her wide, to the corners of the bed. Once done, Karen couldn’t move much.
“That way, you won’t get out of the bed without authorisation, and you won’t play with yourself without authorisation.
“Ah, come on. You’re kidding right?”
“Nope.” she said, producing a harness with a large red ball that she had every intention of stuffing inside Karen’s mouth.”And you won’t talk either.”
“Now, now. A little peace and quiet for the little princess.” said Lynda as if she was talking to a child.
Karen twisted in her bonds. Being encased in latex, corset and ballet boots was one thing. Being tied up was another and gagged? She hadn’t signed for that. Or did she?
Lynda left the room for a moment to come back holding something that seemed heavy and thick. She threw it over Karen before spreading it: it was down blanket, but in black latex! That was kind of destroying the advantage of a down blanket, which was of being light…
She felt the now rather heavy garment over her body.
Lynda bent over and reached for her head, kissing her on the forehead, right on the O ring of the head harness before snapping a blindfold on.
“Sweet dreams, sweety”
She walked out of the room, turning off the dim lights, leaving Karen alone, in the dark.
She tested her bonds. She would go nowhere, and spread eagled as she was, the toys were not giving much effect. The gag was an annoyance, but sleep got the best of her.
-8- First Bondage Play
She had no way to tell the time. Her blindfold prevented her from seeing anything. Then again, the room had no windows and she didn’t remember seeing any clock anywhere.
Her muscles were aching from the constant stretching, and the only thing she could do to ease them was… stretch.
From then on, she was going back and forth sleeping then awake, for what seems eons, until she felt a presence.
“Welcome back, sweety.” she heard Lynda’s voice said. “Did you rest?”
Karen nodded yes.
“Okay, be careful with your eyes, I’m taking the blindfold off.” she said, pulling the leather piece off.
Karen blinked. The lights were dim but she had to adjust. She moaned and pulled on her wrists, giving clear hints that she wanted them released.
“Everything in good times.” answered Lynda. “There are some things that you have to know: everybody coming in here has to … pay their dues.” she said, with a weird smile on her face.
Lynda slowly pulled on the thick and heavy latex down blanket, giving Karen a strange feeling of relief as the weight went off, then gently climbed on the bed, climbing over Karen’s body. Karen noticed that she was wearing a very tight and shiny purple latex catsuit with a black corset. She felt Lynda’s weight on her hips, which was transmitted to the dildos.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” said Lynda, gently stroking her hips back and forth over Karen’s hips, her latex suit easily sliding over Karen’s.
She reacted, moaning, pulling on her wrists. That was good. Surprisingly good. Lynda moved her hips sideways, then forward-backward, then side to side again, then jumped a little.
Karen’s eyes were flipping over. She was pulling hard on her bonds, on her wrists as well as on her ankles, raising her knees, pushing Lynda, increasing the pressure. That was good. She was getting hotter, hornier, by the second. Her muscles were not hurting anymore. Hell, she couldn’t feel her muscles at all. All she could feel was the large plugs inside her, massaging her inside, slowly, mercifully. She moaned and swallowed with difficulties while trying to catch her breath.
Lynda gently reached for Karen’s breasts, squishing them, pressing them, rubbing them, which only created more moaning from Karen. She slid her hands from Karen’s breasts to her armpits, then to her arms, bending forward, still gently dancing her hips over Karen’s, stretching her arms so they reached the wrist cuffs, and until her boobs were pretty much on Karen’s face. Feeling that rubber pressing against her face was arousing. Lynda worked on Karen’s wrist cuffs and she felt them released as Lynda straightened her body again, still rocking her hips.
Karen’s hands were free. She rubbed her own breasts, then went for Lynda’s thighs, rubbing them, squeezing her buns, trying to get to her breasts, but they were out of reach, Lynda keeping straight and smiling at Karen, that weird, teasing smile only a woman can do.
Karen went back for her own breasts, rubbing them, squeezing them, then she stretched her arms out, finding the chains, grabbing them and pulling.
“Yes.” said Lynda. “It does feel a lot better when you’re all tied up, doesn’t it?”
Karen didn’t answer. Well, not directly. She simply smiled and moaned, thrusting her hips upward, lifting Lynda, who was apparently enjoying what she was doing as much as Karen. Did she have toys of her own?
Lynda bent forward again, putting her latex covered breasts on Karen’s face, and stretched out to re-link the wrist cuffs to the chain, then she reached over Karen’s head. She felt a pull on her head harness and when Lynda let go, the pulling feeling was still there. Lynda straightened up and twisted backward to pick something that was apparently resting on the bed, between Karen’s legs.
“Try to move your head, Karen.” said Lynda.
Karen tried, but her head harness was now linked to the head of the bed. She could turn it, but not move it much more than that.
Lynda then produced what she had grabbed between Karen’s legs: a wide leather band, with three rolling buckles. Lynda wrapped it around Karen’s neck and, although they were under her, buckled all three straps, going slowly, each time making sure that Karen was still breathing. That was a nice thought…
When she let go, Karen couldn’t move her head, held straight by the extreme posture collar and the head harness link.
Lynda went back to rocking her hips, harder, and squishing Karen’s breasts. Again, reaching for something behind her, she moved slightly forward and began to slap on Karen’s dildos with a riding crop.
Karen’s eyes went wide. She was getting ridden! Lynda had her left hand on her breasts, was jumping and rocking over her lower stomach and at the same time, hitting her dildos with a riding crop.
She lost it. In a very primal, guttural scream that almost scared her, she exploded, her body taken by strong convulsions, as waves and waved of pleasure riding her from the tip of her toes to the tip of her fingers, scratching her spine from the inside along the way, releasing a shitload of hormones, all more overwhelming than the previous one.
As if Lynda knew exactly what she was doing, that last breast squeeze, that last hip hump, that last crop hit, the pulling on her bonds, all combined to simply short-circuit Karen’s brain. She was floating, having an out of body experience, or whatever it was. It was out of this world.
For a moment, she wasn’t there anymore. She was elsewhere. Somewhere. Everything was silence and at the same time, everything was a firework.
When everything died down, slowly, she began to hear her breathing again, felt her heart pounding, her voice grunting.
Lynda was there, sitting by her side, smiling.
“You need to rest. I’ll catch up with you later.” she said, smiling, slapping Karen’s inner thigh as she got up, making her jolt, the sound of the slap hurting more than the slap itself.
Lynda got up, walked to the door and turned off the light.
Karen closed her eyes and her brain shut down.
-9- First Slave Game
She felt some tugging on her right ankle. Then on her left one. That got her out of her slumber. Her body was “there” but her brain was still “elsewhere.”
She moaned, softly. She felt a presence by her side on the bed. Someone had just sat on it, and was working on her wrist cuffs, then on the top ring of her head harness. She finally opened her eyes.
She blinked, her eyes adjusting from the total darkness to the dim reddish lights of the room.
“Welcome back, sweetie.” said Lynda.
“Mfgghrhgg.” Karen said, still gag. She reached for the harness, to take it off, but Lynda gently blocked her hands.
“No un-gaging until it is absolutely necessary.” said Lynda. “A slave must remain quiet.”
“Agg. fffphaaffff?” mumbled Karen.
Lynda did as if Karen hadn’t said anything.
“You probably want to… take a dump.” she said. “Out this room, first door on your left. There’s towels, and lube to put the toys back on.”
Karen gave her a stare.
“No, you don’t get out of the suit, and no, you can’t come out of that room without the toys. Now, go.” said Lynda, getting off the bed.
Karen struggled to get up, her latex encased body, stiff by all the recent exercise, was also sliding on the lubed latex mattress. She giggled. That was actually fun.
Getting on her feet was another story: she was in ballet heels, remember? Well, she didn’t and stumbled forward, only being stopped by Lynda.
“Careful, Karen. Don’t hurt yourself. Are you alright?” she asked.
Karen took back her balance and nodded that she was fine, then headed for the door, walking like she was drunk.
When she reached outside the room, expecting some kind of corridor, she ended up instead into a large room, filled with kinky equipment, ranging from tables, to benches to cages to furniture and devices she had no clue of their use: she was in some kind of dungeon.
The call of nature had the best of her and she headed for the bathroom, where she took some time to clean herself.
As she was sitting on the johns, she tried to look around. Her stiff posture collar was causing some problems. She thought about loosening it. Sure Lynda wouldn’t notice it being one or two notches down. She reached for the buckles and loosen them. It was not easy working behind her neck, but she managed. She welcomed the relief on her neck.
It was now easier to turn her head but she still had to turn her whole upper body, of course, kept rigid by the corset. The bathroom was pretty standard, with a toilet, a sink and shower. What made it non-usual was the amount of hanging steel rings: they were everywhere! One or more people could be fixed, attached, linked, about everywhere, from the shower to the sink, and some of those rings were cleverly positioned so that someone sitting on the toilet could be, well, made to stay there. There were even rings on the shower floor.
The wall directly in front of her was covered in small white ceramic tiles. About two dozen of them, were covered by small picture, where she had to squint to be able to see, of people, evidently using those same rings: suspended upside-down in the shower, hogtied-suspended from the ceiling, spread on the wall, tied on all four with the head inside the toilet bowl…
She was stunned by all she had seen and been subjected to and wondered where the hell she had landed..
Once all cleaned and well stuffed back up, she slowly walked out of the bathroom, puzzled, looking around.
“Did you like what you lived? Do you want to play some more?” asked Lynda who was waiting for her amidst the dungeon equipment.
She wanted to ask more questions, but Lynda cut her short.
“The only answer I’m accepting is either yes or no.”
Karen risked a different answer. She was lost and wanted a frame of reference. She put her left hand in front of her and tapped on her wrists.
“What… How long?”
Karen nodded no.
Oh, what time is it? Yeah, I’m sorry, you must be quite mixed up. You were tied up for about six hours, as I came back around 14:00. We played for an hour then you were out of it for about 3 hours. So, it’s currently around 18:15.
Karen took some time to digest those information. She slept spread eagle for six hours! Then was out for three more hours! No wonder she felt relaxed and well rested.
Well, so far, she liked everything she was put through, even discovering new things. A lot of new things. All more enjoyable than the other. Who would have thought that being tied up would…
She looked at Lynda and with a firm head movement, as much as the posture collar she was still wearing allowed to, she nodded: YES.
“Very good. I’ll get you prepared for your tasks.” said Lynda approaching Karen, passing behind her to reach a door when she did a double-take. “What is… did you loosen the collar?” she said, turning around, approaching and looking at the buckles. “Evidently so. I know I didn’t leave any buckle undone.”
She grabbed Karen by the shoulder and had her spin around, which almost put her out of balance.
“I trusted you. There’s a rule here that no slave is to be walking around unrestrained. I left you unrestrained and you betrayed that trust. Very well, then. Stay put.”
She resumed in the direction she was originally going, opening a door on a large closet. Even from her point of view, Karen could see an vast assortment of straps, whips, crops, and also hoods, cuffs, collars, footwear, there was enough to dress an army. An army of slaves. Lynda walked back with her arms filled with stuff. Metallic stuff.
She put everything down, and kneeled by Karen’s ankles. She removed the leather cuffs and put on steel ones. They were 5cm wide (2 inches). It consisted of a thin steel plate with a leather lining. The tongue of the plate was entering a box then was exiting in a space between the steel band and the leather, leaving an unbroken look, except for the locking box and the attachment rings. The tongue was being held in place by a ratchet mechanism similar to police handcuffs.
Lynda wrapped it around Karen’s ankle, over her ballet boots, and used both hands wrapped around it to tighten it, struggling to get it one more notch in.
That was tight. Karen could feel it.
She did the same on the other ankle, then linked them with a short 12cm long chain. She would be forced to hobble.
Lynda added steel cuffs above her knees, which she linked with a 4cm chain. Then added cuffs at the wrists and elbows. She left them unlinked. For the moment.
She then picked the last item: a wide belt with a crotch strap.
“What is that?” thought Karen “A chastity belt?”
Lynda tightened the belt as tight as she could over Karen’s corset, then yanked the crotch strap to it. Karen moaned. It pushed on her dildos, but now, she had absolutely no access. She even tried when Lynda left to go back to the closet: she couldn’t fit her fingers between the belt and her crotch!
Lynda came back with more stuff, which she wrapped around Karen’s breasts: steel cups! The same kind of steel strap was running to her back where she heard her tightened it, as well as two double chains running from the center of the bra, over her shoulders, then down the back.
She also had different lengths of chains. She took a rather long one. She fixed one end on her left wrist cuff, then fed it through a series of rings along the side and the back of the chastity belt, up to the other side, where she fixed the other end to the other wrist cuff.
When Karen pulled one arm, the other had to get close to her body for the maximum length of chain. She was able to easily reach her throat with one hand only. Then Lynda added a length of chain between her elbow cuffs. Now, to reach her throat, she had to twist her elbows. Not easy, but doable. She wondered what would be her tasks.
Lynda faced Karen.
“You will not speak. I will be removing the gag harness to put a latex hood on.”
Karen nodded that she understood.
Lynda took the harness off, making Karen drool all over her latex and steel suit.
“Fuck!” said Karen, looking down. Then looking back up, saw Lynda’s fiery eyes. Karen clamped it shut while Lynda flipped the latex hood inside out and showed two long tubes coming from the inside of the hood.
“Now, these won’t be a pleasure to put on, but once on, you won’t notice them. It will help your breathing.” then added to Karen’s wide eyes: “yes, they go up your nose. Now, inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth.” she said as she rubbed the hoses with lubricant and proceeded to feed them up Karen’s nose.
She was grinning. That was not enjoyable at all. She felt the tubes go in, in her nostrils, in her sinuses, then felt them going back down in her throat, but by this time, the hood was close to her face.
Without a word, Lynda flipped it over Karen’s head, putting the final push on the hoses, squishing the latex around her head. Pulling the zipper, Karen felt the hood tightened around her head. That was a lot to cope with: the tubes AND the hood, rendering her almost deaf, creating a weird echo.
The hood also had rolling buckles on the sides, at mouth and eye levels, evidently to attach accessories.
Lynda tucked the collar under the neck of her suit then applied the steel posture collar. She tightened it, notch by notch, listening to Karen’s breathing. When she felt she had just the right restriction, just the right struggling level, she stopped.
She took a piece of latex with bulbous dark lenses on it and put it on the hood, covering Karen’s eyes with the tinted lenses. She took what would have been the flap going over the mouth and showed it to karen. It was a simple latex flap. Nothing special about it.
“That’s what you were about to have. But since you talked, it will be something less comfortable.” she said, leaving for the closet and coming back with a flap, but this one had a huge penis gag attached to it.
Karen had to open wide for it to enter and she definitely would not be comfortable, as Lynda pulled the strap tights, then applied small padlocks, locking everything in place.
The only way she could breath, now, was through her nose. But thanks to the hose, the passage was all clean and breathing was easy. Sort of…
Finally, Lynda snapped a leash on the front ring of her collar and tugged. Karen followed. She had no choice.
-10- First Cooking
Lynda led Karen to a flight of stairs. That would not be an easy task, bound as she was, but Lynda seemed used to it. She waited for Karen to grab a hold of the handrail and get up, one step at a time. It was as if those steps had been made shorter than normal, specifically for someone in bondage.
Once upstairs, they entered into a wide opened area, evidently a large living room where many guests could be seated. Lynda led the way, tugging gently on the leash as Karen hobbled her way along.
“That house is huge” thought Karen “I hope I won’t have to clean it.”
Lynda led her past the living room, the large dining room with a long table able to sit 16, and to the kitchen.
There, in the middle of it, hanging from the high ceiling, a length of chain. Lynda positioned Karen under it and snapped it at the back of her collar. On that length of chain, she could barely make two steps in any direction.
“Well, evidently, the refrigerator is there, the stovetop, the oven, the microwave over there. The pots and pans you can see hung over the island, just open the cabinets to see what’s in them. All that you might possibly need are there. Oh, there’s also the big pantry full of fresh produce.” said Lynda, marking a pose, leaving time for all of it to sink into Karen’s probably messed up brain. “I must tell you about the tether you have. It allows you to move along: it is linked to a spring return spool. However, be careful not to reach the end of it.”
“Uh… okay.” thought Karen. “Where is the end of its rope?”
“So, the kitchen is there. Madam Erika should be here in about an hour. Just cook us something.” said Lynda, walking out of the kitchen to disappear.
Karen turned around, eyes wide opened, under her dark lenses.
“Cook a meal? Me?” she said to herself. “I don’t know how to cook! I’ve been eating scraps or in shelters for years!”
She looked around, opened the large double-door refrigerator: all sorts of meat, some she had no clue what they were, seafood, fish, all sorts of ingredients she didn’t recognize apart from the classical mustard, ketchup, relish, mayo and stuff. She went to the pantry: it was full of vegetables and fruits, again many she had no clue what they were.
Her brain was totally fucked up, and cooking was the last thing there.
She opened the refrigerator again to look inside. She bent forward, finding she reached the end of the tether. She saw chicken breasts. She reached to take them but she was missing a few cm. She pulled forward, stretching the tether. She gave it a yank to grab the package. She didn’t have time. She was rapidly yanked back, struggling to keep up with it, she ended up getting dragged until she was back at the starting point. She took a deep breath.
“So that’s what happens.” she said to herself. “Now I know”.
She began to walk away but was stopped: the spool was locked, somehow. For a while, she tried to pull on it, but it was probably broken: she couldn’t move.
After a while, Lynda happened to walk back. Karen pulled on the leash to show the problem.
“Oh, so I see you went to the end of it. Well, it has a mechanical timer. You have to stand still for about 5 minutes for it to release. But it’s mechanical, so precision is not there. The manual states between 4 and 8 minutes.”
Even eight minutes! It has been longer than that. Karen yanked on it, to show it was not working.
“Err… Karen. Each time you yank on it BEFORE it’s timed out, that resets the mechanism. My guess would be to look at the stovetop clock and count 10 minutes, just to be on the safe side.”
Karen stood still, staring at the clock.
“Very well then. Obviously you haven’t started to cook. I’ll come back later.” said Lynda, leaving.
Karen stood there, unable to do anything, afraid to reset the counter at the slightest tug. That gave her time to think over what she was about to do, the recipe, something simple yet tasty she saw one of her foster moms make..
When the clock had counted 10 minutes, she walked away and was able to reach the refrigerator, where she carefully extended her hands, taking good care not to pull too hard on the leash, and retrieved the chicken.
She had to prepare a meal for two. Well three. She was not about to let herself out. She took the chicken breasts and cut them in thin slices.
Well, there went problem one: the only way she would see what she was doing was to bend her whole body down. To do so, she had to back away from the counter. Doing so, she was unable, with her bound arms, to reach said counter.
How the hell will she be able to cook??
In frustration, she looked around for a way to cook, either very long utensils or… Yes. That’s it! A mirror! She saw one, square, about 30cm on each side. When she went to grab it she realized that it was ALMOST of reach, that to grab it she might have to yank her leash.
She didn’t really have a choice, and it was probably all made on purpose by Lynda. She had no clue how, but she will get her revenge.
She pulled her left hand as close as she could to the belt to get as much free chain on her right wrist. She twisted and bent her body as much as she could and carefully reached for the mirror. She could touch it, but not grab it.
She took the deepest breath she could, then exhale all of it, hoping that it would give some flexibility to her body, then make a move for it. She was able to grab it with a firm grip before being pulled back by the leash.
She didn’t fight it, and let herself be dragged, firmy holding the mirror, then waited, another 10 minutes before resuming her work.
She set up the mirror at the back of the counter, angled just right. She proceeded to cut the chicken, the onions, the bell peppers, everything she needed for her recipe.
While chopping the onions, she was glad she was wearing sealed lenses: she wasn’t crying. And thanks to the nose tubes, she wasn’t even smelling it. She liked the feeling of the latex on her arms as she was working, and it was a breeze to wash off. She loved looking at its shine, and she sort of liked the challenge created by the chains, by her restraints. With each movement, she could feel the chains clinking against the steel cuffs or her steel chastity belt, or the counter. She liked it. Damn… Could she be…?
She put the butter in the pan, let it roast, then added the onions to make them sweat before adding the thin slices of chicken, roasting them in the butter and onions, almost burning at the bottom of the pan, which at the same time, allowed the onions to caramelise.
She poured in some water, making a nicely colored broth as she lowered the temperature of the stove.
Seeing her arms move over the steaming pan, feeling the heat but not the water vapor, was fun. “I could end-up really liking that” she said to herself.
In the meantime, she prepared some vegetables: potatoes, carrots, asparagus, and also a nice salad, working from the island, her back to the stove.
One of the radish rolled away and she bent over to retrieve it, bumping her steel breast cups on the counter at the same time. She was stunned by what she felt. That weird, as if she was wearing some kind of armor. Well, in a way, she was.
At one point, she turned around and startled: the pan was out of water! How come she hasn… then she realized: her impaired hearing prevented her from hearing the simmer, and her nose tubes, prevented her from smelling the disaster in the making!
She had to throw everything off, and start over again. That time, she was more careful.
She went to the pantry to get some cabbage but dropped it on the floor. She crouched down to pick it up, feeling the corset bite her hips at the same time it was pushing up her breasts from under the stainless steel cups, balancing on her toes.
She lost balance and internally, let out a very bad word as she felt she had just yanked the leash and was being dragged back to the central point.
In dismay, she looked on the stove at her chicken, which would probably run out of water again, and also at her vegetables, who would also probably run out of water.
The clock was showing 6 minutes done. Lynda had said that it would be between 4 and 8 minutes. However, if she waited any longer, what’s on the stove would be ruined. It was all or nothing, as they would be ruined anyway: what would be 10 more minutes.
She slowly walked forward hoping to not reset the counter if it wasn’t completed.
She let out a sigh of relief when she managed to walk away, quickly fixing everything without losing anything.
Legs shaking by the ordeal, she managed to complete her meal, thickening the broth, mashing the potatoes, everything was ready to be served.
Now she wanted to rest, to sit down, to relieve her poor feet.
She looked around for a bench, a stool, a chair, anything,when she spotted Lynda on the kitchen door opening.
“We’re waiting. How long until we are served? That smells good, by the way. Oh… right!” said Lynda, smiling ear to ear, knowing perfectly the psychological effect on Karen.
Karen made two thumbs up, indicating that she was ready, and Lynda came to unhook the leash.
“Very well, go for it.” said Lynda, walking out, leaving Karen.
“I have to serve it to you and all?” she asked herself?
She struggled to get some plates and began with the salads. Picking the first plate was easy, but picking up the second one, was not.
Carrying both salad plates, one in each hands, hobbling her way, the dildos becoming more and more of an annoyance.
Putting the plates down proved to be another challenge as the dining table was lower. She had to bend her knees while keeping her upper body straight, then to lean sideways and slightly forward to being the plate on the table.
She couldn’t reach the proper place. She put the first plate on, then using the now available length of chain, put the other plate in directly in front of Erika, before picking up the first plate and moving it in front of Lynda.
“Impressive adaptation, ya.” said Erika, smiling at Lynda.
“Yes, she impresses me.” answered Lynda, as Karen walked back to the kitchen. “Hey, where are you going?” she asked.
Karen stopped and pointed to the kitchen.
“You’re not hiding back there. You stay here, in that corner until we’re done, in case we need something.”
Karen took a deep breath. She still wanted to rest her legs. Reluctantly, she hobbled her way into the designated corner to stand there, hands joined, fingers crossed, in front of her, balancing from one foot to the other, touching her steel belt, the steel crotch strap, feeling the chains dance on her legs with every move.
“Karen?” said Lynda.
Karen raised her head, looking at her.
“I said KAREN!” said again Lynda, with more authority, pointing down besides her. Karen hobbled her way to the spot she indicated.
“We need water, and bring us some wine too.” she said.
Karen went back to the kitchen, and brought back a pitcher of water she put on the table, before turning around to find some wine.
“Ahem…” said Lynda. “We’re not about to pour ourselves the water. What are you here for?”
Karen turned around and managed, not without making a mess, to pour water into the glasses before leaving with the pitcher. She returned a few minutes later with a bottle of wine. She was beginning to know the drill. Doing the best waitress she could, she opened the bottle in front of them, which was not easy with her wrist chained, then poured a little in one glass to offer it to Lynda, who made a very convincing expert wine taster gig, before smiling and indicating to fill the glasses.
Lynda then cleaned the table and served the main course, which seemed to be liked, making sure to refill the wine and water glass as needed.
“That was wonderfully tasty.” said Lynda once the meal was done. “We’re ready for the dessert.”
Karen startled. Dessert?
“Even through your latex covered head, I can see your face. Funny.” said Erika, giggling. “No dessert. Okay. There was some ice cream in the freezer. That will do.”
Once all was done and completed, Karen was hooked back in the kitchen.
“Well, you have to clean the dishes don’t you? Just put everything in the dishwasher.” said Lynda laughing. “Got ya!. I’ll give your half an hour to put the dishes away and clean your mess. Then I’ll come back to remove the gag and allow you to eat.”
The gag was put back in place after her meal and she was sent to her room. She didn’t care that she had to be tied up for the night. All she wanted was to rest her poor legs.
-11- First Encasement
From then on, she never returned to her old apartment. She was getting to work with Lynda and coming back with her, spending her nights tied up on the latex bed, or on different bondage furniture, on different positions,hooked to a cross, tied to the bench, in the stocks, even hogtied, and she managed to sleep.
One night, Lynda fixed her on the bondage table, tightening straps around her ankles, under and over her knees, hips, waist, under and over her breasts, then with arms on the sides of the table, she tightened straps at her wrists, lower arm and upper arm, and last ones over her shoulders, through her armpit.
She couldn’t move. But that was not enough. One more strap around her neck and finally one over her forehead.
She was spending her days completely covered in latex, head shaved, for about a week now.
Lynbda tightened the strap holding the gag in place on her hood, and smiled before putting the flap over her eyes.
“Tomorrow, is The Day. You’ll get your full environment test suit.”
Karen blinked in appreciation, but inside things were mixed up: what kind of suit will that be? After all the bondage, latex and stuffing she was put through lately, she had mixed feelings. She had, for the first time in a while, a thought about her paycheck: She never saw a penny. Well, yes, she saw the bank account, but that was it. Then again, she had nothing to spend it on.
Although for many, this setup was totally uncomfortable, Karen slept like a baby. In fact, she was finding it harder to sleep free…
The next day, she was driven to the office, where Erika was already waiting for her in a room she never saw before: it was rather small, but all covered in white tiles. There was one gynecology table, one standard hospital examination table, and someone new, she had never seen before, wearing a white catsuit with a red cross on it.
“This Nurse Annie. “ said Erika. “ She there for last medical exam and intubating process. Leave with her.” she said, before leaving, leather creaking, high heel clicking.
“Hello Karen. Nice to meet you. I will explain the procedures as I go. If you’d like to undress and take place.” she said, indicating the gynecology table.
Annie explained the intubating procedure and since all the plugs have been molded to her body, everything should be very comfortable, so to speak.
The catheter was installed for her bladder, then the orifice plugged. Similarily for her butt hole. Then a feeding tube was inserted, which ended by a huge gag, molded for her mouth. It was followed by breathing tubes up her nose.
Some paste was pushed down her ears, rendering her pretty much deaf.
Annie picked up a bag from a large box. Karen had learned to recognize those bags: it was a neck entry catsuit.
She put the suit on, helped by Annie who seemed to know the procedure, as very few words were exchanged. That suit was thinner than all the others she used to put on, but was very sturdy. It was followed by an equally thin hood, with holes for the breathing and feeding tubes, as well as large holes for the eyes. Annie carefully put the short lengths of hoses protruding from the plugs through holes within the suit and smoothen all the wrinkles before applying a thick coat of paste all over the suit and adding another one, this one a little heavier, including the hood. This hood, however, had dark tinted oval lenses over the eyes. Once on, Karen was seeing all blurry.
As she knew the silence question, Annie answered.
“There’s a protective film over the lenses. Don’t worry, I’ll take it off once the procedure is completed.” she said, quite loudly over Karen’s ears, because by this time, she was not only deaf, but couldn’t see much either.
Karen saw someone else moving around her, although only able to make out that there was someone, not who. She figured it was probably Lynda.
Lynda and Annie proceeded to put something rigid around her torso, Karen quickly figuring out it was a corset.
The carbon fiber garment, in two halves, was tightened with ratchet straps as Karen exhaled. She knew it was going to be a tight fit. She had worn such a tight corset for a while and actually, welcomed its presence.
When she felt that it was pretty much as tight as she was used to, the tightening stopped while the team worked on it.
They were in fact applying glue to the mating joints before cranking the ratchet straps again.
Karen’s eyes went wide as the tightening continued. She felt she was getting crushed in half as she felt constricted beyond what she believed possible, but nothing was stopping the ratchet straps.
Once the ends met, they wiped out the excess glue and let it sit for it to cure. Karen was panting and her eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets. Damn! That was beyond tight!
Then they added a rigid strip of carbon fiber on her crotch, linking the front and the back of the corset. It was perfectly molded for her body and at the same time, pushed on the plugs. Internally, she moaned. Could that really feel… good?
They had Karen lay on the conventional examination table, as using the same techniques, put her lower legs in pointed, heel-less carbon fiber boots, also in two halves, with the same ratchet strap techniques. All this time, Karen was still panting, looking for air, learning to cope with the new corset, the new suit, the new everything.
Once the boots were completed carbon fibers cuffs were glued over her knees, wrists and upper arms, as well as a wide collar. Not as restrictive as a full width posture collar, but one that couldn’t be ignored.
While she was waiting there for the glue to set, Karen wondered why in hell she needed all this for an environment protection suit.
They had her stand up after about 15 minutes. She was getting used to the corset, but the rigid boots were something new. She had been getting used to leather ballet boots, which provided some flexibility at the ankle. Those provided none. And the tight cuffs were impairing her abilities to fully bend her legs or her arms as they were preventing the needed muscles to fully contract.
They coated her with paste again and fed another black latex suit, and hood with eye holes, which was followed by another one, the fourth layer so far. Each suit and hood appeared to be tighter and/or thicker than the previous one, squishing every part of her body, rendering her fingers clumsy.
The last suit, the fifth layer, was a clear catsuit and evidently not as stretchy as the other ones.
“That’s the wear and tear layer.” mouthed Annie to Karen. “This one can be replaced if needed, however, not as stretchy.”
Ah, so the long term suit has an outer layer that is removable… wait. If THAT ONE is removable, what about the others?
Karen began to ask questions in sign language. Lynda simply nodded no, but Karen wouldn’t stop.
Lynda went in a drawer and came out with stretchy fabric tape, and she began to wrap Karen’s hands into a closed fist. The fabric was some sort of elastic, but Karen couldn’t do anything once her hands were tightly wrapped.
“That’s how you gag a mute!” told Lynda in sign language to Karen.
She had signed to test a long term protection suit. Just how long the term was, she never really thought about it, but now… it was too late.
They smoothed out the suit, removing any residual wrinkle. Although she was sort of spaced out, her mind elsewhere, she liked being… groped. Feeling those hands over her latex covered body, massaging her from head to toe was… fun?
With a sharp tool, they poke holes in the suit where her different cuffs were, and at some places around her waist and collar, then led her to another room where she recognized a tanning bed.
Lynda removed the vet wrap tape that was keeping her silent, and she instructed her to get on the bed. She turned on the light, closing the bed over her.
She stayed there, her mind wandering.
She felt the suit tighten, or was it just an impression as the latex tried to revert to its original size which was quite tight to start with. She figured that this procedure was to fuse all the layers together. She was smart enough to figure out that she would be stuck in this. It would not be easy to take off.
After what seemed like a long time, they came back for her and Lynda peeled off the protective plastic over her lenses, and she could finally see her reflection in the long mirror: she looked stunning! And she looked like anything but a human being.
Lynda led her to the exercise room, with an objective sheet: she had to do one hour of treadmill at slow speed, then half an hour of cycling, followed by half an hour of rowing.
But before she got on it, Annie was back with rings. She screwed two rings on each cuff, one on each side of her corset and four, all around her collar. She commanded Karen to step on the treadmill and she linked the waist rings to the front console. Karen would not get out of it. She turned the treadmill on, at a relatively fast speed, for someone is her condition, of 3.5km/h (about 2.2 mph)
Easier said than done. Her feet were totally rigid. She had to relearn to walk in pointed boots. Her corset was not giving at all and was a lot tighter, making her quickly short of breath. And that whole suit, just doing natural arm balancing demanded an effort. She was feeling the tightness of the rubber compressing her. She was feeling the creaking when she bent her arms. She was feeling the latex pinch her buns with each step. And she was feeling the plugs move inside her, and that’s on what she focused. She thought of better enjoying the ordeal instead of suffering it. She set her goal for an orgasm.
She was getting teased to fuck her brain out, but she wasn’t able to build an orgasm. She was slowly depressing: does that mean that she would never have an orgasm anymore?
She was put from one equipment to the next according to the schedule. Walking was relatively easy, compared to the cycling, where her crotch strap was a great annoyance: it was still teasing her even more, but without any sign of relief. That was devilish.
Rowing was another matter, especially since, for the first time, her whole body was required, and bending with her very stiff corset and collar proved not to be easy. When she was done, she was totally exhausted and passed out right there on the bench.
When she awoke, she was on a bed. She tried to get up but was stopped, her collar linked with a chain to the wall. She let herself drop back, wondering what she had put herself into.
A door opened and Lynda appeared, smiling.
“You passed with flying colors, Karen. I want to officially welcome you to our testing program.” said Lynda, with sign language. “We’re arranging for transportation, and you should leave for the testing facility in a few days. Congratulations!” she said, turning away, not leaving time for Karen to ask any questions, but just before passing the door, she picked her smartphone. “I forgot. Your reward.”
Karen jolted backward, letting herself drop on the bed. Yes, the plugs were vibrating!
-12- First Shipping
For the last four days, Karen’s routine had been the same: waiting for Lynda to untie her from the bed, she was fed and cleaned, a few sign language lessons followed by rigorous tests, then left in the exercise room to do whatever she wanted, followed by a two-hours nap in the afternoon, of course, properly secured, then some suit integrity testing. She had the evening to herself, with access to a computer and internet, where she can only browse: she couldn’t send anything out. All of this, properly bound to the chair, before being put to bed, spread eagled, hogtied, straight tied, anything but “free”.
And she loved every second of it! The challenge, the struggle. She loved all of it. She loved feeling the tight corset, she loved the squishing of the tight latex on her arms each time she was flexing them, she liked the clumsiness of her fingers, feeling what she was touching at the same time she wasn’t feeling anything.
She was surprised at the speed she got used to the tubes going up her nose, and the feeding tube going down her throat.
That day, instead of being sent to the learning room, she was brought to another room that looked unfinished. There was a long yet narrow steel box on the floor, and a few boxes on a table. Lynda was there with Erika.
Erika, still dressed in her sparkling white leather outfit, approached Karen with a wide smile.
“You are one of gifted.” she said, still with her strong German accent. “Today, we fix you for shipping.” she said, loudly, without using sign language.
“For travel?” tried to correct Karen in sign language.
“Ya.” said Erika. “Traavell. We fix for traavell.” she answered with a smile.
She smiled at Lynda and walked out of the room.
“You need proper protection for your travel. We use… cargo.” signed Lynda.
Under her hood, Karen raised her eyebrows. That was not what she was expecting. That was far from first class.
Lynda went to one of the boxes and retrieved a few long hoses, which she plugged at her crotch. She then brought thumbless mittens she put over Karen’s hands. The mittens were held on by one of those steel straps with a ratchet buckle.
She would be unable to communicate!
Fetching from another box, she came back with one of those hand held wrapping plastic rolls, about 12m wide. She approached Karen and kneeled down, tapping on her feet so that she would spread them apart, then began to wrap her, starting at the tip of her pointed toe boots, going up one leg, making a few passes at the crotch, wrapping around the tubes, and wrapped her hips, before doing the same with the other leg.
Then it was her arms, however, she began by putting Karen’s hands in a fist position before tightly wrapping them. She was wrapping the plastic wrap very tightly, as if it could make any difference, then going to her torso, and ending with her head, leaving her lenses clear. For now.
She repeated the procedure two more times.
She followed it by a layer of white large PVC tape, again wrapping her tightly. After she was fully wrapped, Karen felt like a robot. She made a few steps while Lynda was back at the boxes, and giggled. That was actually fun!
Lynda got another roll of plastic wrap, but this one much larger and began at her hips, having Karen lift her arms, which was difficult taped as they were. She wrapped her torso with the wide plastic until she reached her armpits, then placed Karen’s arms, crossed, on her chest and continued to wrap, pinning her arms down. After the first pass, Karen could barely move. After the third one, she was as stiff as a plank from the hips to her neck.
Karen gently dragged her to a nearby wooden table and had her lay on it, before proceeding to wrap her legs together, again with three layers, putting the long hoses between her legs, the end protruding at the tip of her feet.
Karen then knew what being a mummy was like, and went wide eyes when Lynda came back with more tape!
She began at her legs and wrapped her to her hips, before sliding her down the table, yet leaning against it, and she wrapped her upper body, this time, covering her head, again except the lenses.
She did that three times!
By then, Karen wondered why she wasn’t simply put into a cast or something. She was as rigid anyways.
As if on cue, Erika came back, and they picked up Karen, Erika at the head, Lynda at the feet, to carry her to the steel box. She was so stiffly wrapped that she didn’t even bend!
They put her down in the box, and she found the mattress or whatever was there, quite mushy and comfortable. They hooked tubes at her nose holes and mouth tube, as well as the tubes now exiting at the tip of her feet, before closing the lid.
She heard, or thought she heard, power tools, all around the steel cover and figured she was getting screwed in.
If she struggled enough, she was able to move around, slightly but she could. She thought that she could be banged around quite badly. That was until she felt something filling the gaps around her, some kind of liquid, or a paste. She had a little rush of panic when she felt it going past her head, past her mouth, but she was still breathing easily. The liquid filled the entire seel case. It was more difficult to move, the liquid having a high consistency, but she could move. She felt well protected, padded anyways.
She just lay there, and even to her own surprise, she doze off, dreaming of latex, slavery and bondage. Weird.
When she awoke, she tried to move, but couldn’t. Somehow, whatever had filled the case, had hardened and even expanded. She felt crushed.
She liked it.
She had no way to tell the time. She suddenly felt being moved, put into some kind of trolley, then almost dropped down. She thanked the cushioning layer.
She was in a truck or something similar. She could feel being slightly thrown, up, down, sideways, as the truck hit road bumps, and was taking curves, stopping and accelerating.
She was again moved by a trolley, and put down, but this time, in an upright position. Then nothing.
For a long time.
As she was dozing off, she felt something enter her stomach: she was being fed water. That was nice. Someone… or something, was taking care of her.
She was moved again, and she couldn’t figure out by what, then after another long time of immobility, she was on the move again. But where the hell was she? A bigger truck? No a train! She was getting moved by train. Damn. She wishes she could see the scenery.
Then again, more handling and another feeling. What was it? Plane? Could it be? She had never taken a plane before.
It was followed by what she believed was a boat.
Damn. How long has she been… trrraaaaavelllling, she said the word in her mind with Erika’s accent, giggling. Darn, she was so relaxed, although she couldn’t move at all. She should be panicking, but instead, she was relaxing, living the experience, enjoying it.
What turned out to be the last leg of her trip, she felt being carried by hand, on a short distance before being put down.
-13- First Arrival
She felt power tools opening the lid through the gel that was keeping her still. The gel was amber and when the lid was opened, she could see some light and people working around her.
They were apparently cutting the gel off from around her, gradually freeing her. Well, they still had quite a few layers of tape and plastic wrap to go before being freed.
Once out of the gel, she was able to see who was helping her and she startled: they were copies of herself: tightly rubber clad women.
They worked with safety scissors to remove the layers of tape and plastic wrap keeping her immobile, keeping her mute.
As soon as she was almost free from the last layer of plastic wrap, all her “friends” except one, left. That last one, once all the plastic was gone, simply took her arm and led her away from the unpacking area.
Karen followed, showing her mittens. She wanted them off. She had so many questions. But whoever that was, simply pushed her hands away. She was led to what looked like a cell built inside a cave. Except for the steel rod door, all the walls and ceiling were carved in stone. The floor was covered by a thick hard rubber carpet. She could see the light from outside through the gated opening, but that was it. No windows.
The helper brought her in the cell and took a chain hanging from a wall and fixed it to her collar, using a padlock, then walked out of the cell and closed the door.
Karen walked toward the door but was stopped short of it, not even able to reach it with her arms. She gestured, asking questions. The helper asked her to calm down.
“This is standard procedure. Only Madam Erika will allow you to wander freely on the island. In the meantime, you are to remain here. I don’t have any keys: I can’t re-open the door or remove your muting cuffs.” Read the instructions and learn to use the machine. she gestured, before coldly turning away.
Karen stomped on the rubber ground with her carbon fiber boots, making some noise, but the helper simply walked away, in similar pointed boots, walking… sexily, rocking her hips… evidently enjoying it.
She had nothing to do but walk in circles, waiting. There was a little mattress, non surprisingly, covered in rubber, where she could lay down.
On one wall, there was the “machine”, the device that will allow her to clean her bowels, empty her bladder and provide nutrients and water.
Everyday, someone will come by, look, turn around and leave.
One time, whoever came looked behind her as if to check if someone was watching, then, with her hands straight in front of her, as to hide them from anyone passing behind, she sent a message to Karen.
“Don’t know when Erika will be here to free you. Sometimes takes a few days, sometimes a few weeks.”
She then turned around and left.
Well, that was some comfort… If at least the plugs were vibrating, that would make the waiting more interesting.
-14- That’s a first.
Six days. That’s how much time it took for Madam Erika and Lynda to come by. At first, they simply stood there, by the steel gate, looking at Karen, chatting between themselves, Karen not hearing a thing.
Finally, Madam Erika got out keys and opened the door. Karen yanked on her chain and stomped on the floor, showing her disapproval.
“I don’t care how you feel. I own you, now.” gestured Erika.
Karen extended her locked mittens in a swift and stiff manner, almost ordering for them to be taken off.
“Yes, you have the right to ask questions.”
“What the fuck is this all about?” asked Karen, who would have jump at Erika’s throat if she wasn’t still tethered to the wall by the neck chain.
“It is what you signed for: the testing of a long term protective environment suit. “Answered Lynda, approved by Erika. “There are attachments, like an external air supply, or an air filtration system that can be added. The lenses could be outfitted with special filters and enhancers, allowing you to see in complete darkness, or in different wavelengths. The suit will protect you against the radiation of a nuclear blast, as long as you’re not within the blast zone, that is.
The suit would allow you to survive a complete climate mayhem created by a supervolcano, an asteroid or… by men.”
“What about the pay? It was just a trap? I never saw the money! When will I get out of that suit?”
“Oh, you’ll be paid, alright,“ Answered this time Erika. “when time comes, when you be allowed wander back freely in the world, you get your pay. But right now, you’re here to test the suit. Each one of you has different suit, with different improvements.” she said. “You’re a testing unit.”
That seemed to calm down Karen. Erika approached with a key and unlocked the chain from Karen’s neck.
“Go join the others, and enjoy your new life.” said Lynda.
“Enjoy? Those things are dead silent.”
“Lynda smiled. “In good times. All in good times.”
Karen exited the cave to discover a paradize island, with the blue sea, gorgeous parrots perched everywhere, and about a dozen women who, like her, were enclosed in rubber.
She saw Erika and Lynda heading back to the boat. That was it.
She had a warm welcome from the rest of the group, each one comparing their “enhancements” to the others. Of course, the earlier versions of the suit were way behind now, but it didn’t seem to bother them. One of them, she identified herself as Clara, showed Karen their playroom, filled with bondage equipment, and their bedroom, equipped with strange vacuum beds, where they would sleep completely immobile.
Karen became warm and wet at the thought. And her first try proved her right, especially when the dildos fired. Oh yes.
She didn’t mind the suit.
Along the way, she learned the truth: they were in fact testing protective suits, but they were also Madam Erika’s little army of survivors. She was expecting the end of the world: by human or by nature. Something bad was bound to happen and her little army will then take over the world, fully protected against anything that might be thrown at them. Even zombies…
The paycheck? They will get it then, in full. But by then, money will have no value…
-15- Not The First Turn of the Wheel.
She was playing with dolphins, not far from the shore, helped with a special breathing apparatus that allowed her to be in water for hours at a time. Her lenses would compensate for the water distortion and she would see as if she was out of the water.
She spotted a boat approaching. She swam out of the water, her gleaming black body quickly drying under the hot sun. She was almost hearing the squeaky noises her wet suit was making as she walked on the beach.
Some others were also heading for the boat. Who was it? Erika? Lynda? They haven’t shown themselves on the island since Karen’s arrival, six months ago.
It was a drone ship, with only one thing on board: a steel case.
Karen wondered what improvement her suit will have compared to her own..
© Pete / monsterp63, May 20, 2019
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