With a back kick of her high heeled booties, she closed the door of the janitor room, pushing her bucket and mop, humming and clicking her way in the long corridor.
She was alone. The large office building was empty. That what she liked about being a night janitor: she was alone.
She was somewhat of an introvert, keeping it to herself. She didn’t have many friends, and she liked it that way.
And this was a no-stress job where she could work at her pace, and best of all, she could dress whatever way she wanted, as long as it was functional.
She loved tight jeans and tight shirts. Well, anything that was tight. And she also loved high heels. She was however supposed to wear work shoes. Not necessarily safety shoes, but shoes more designed to work than clubbing. However, she had been wearing heels for so long that wearing flat classic shoes made her feet hurt. So, a little note for her doctor stating that she needed heels at least 2 to 3 inches high, fixed the problem. Sort of. He allowed her to wear those wedge sneakers. Which she did. Then, sneaked in more heeled shoes. When her boss surprised her at work, wearing those high heel, stiletto booties, she was written up, but at the same time, she indicating that she had been coming working with them for over a year, that she didn’t had any high heel related accident, and that he even praised, on her last review, for awesome and efficient work. Where was the problem?
She was allowed to continue, but with the condition that at the first mishap, she will have to revert to totally flat shoes.
So there she was, mopping the highly polished black floor of this high-tech lab, the sharp clicking noises of her heels resonating in the otherwise empty corridor. Her loose fitting working shirt was hiding a very tight long sleeve compression shirt. Each time she would move her arm, she would feel the strain of the compression shirt. She liked it.
As she crouched down to reach the bucket, she softly moaned as she smiled: those jeans were tight! And the rubbing they created was, well, interesting.
On her left side, a large black glass wall. She knew there was something secret there, because, on occasion, when she was washing it, a screen would lit up, from beneath the glassy surface, and a hand would appear, the kind of hand you have to put yours over for identification. Of course, laughing, she had tried it, to be denied access to whatever that was.
She was now washing the floor just in front of it, the music blasting through her wireless earphones, she took the mop and began dancing, sliding her heeled feet on the shiny floor, her tight jeans straining with the large movements. She dipped backward, feeling her tight compression shirt almost limiting the movement, sending the mop flying high, then bringing it down in a turning motion, only to accidentally hit the wall behind her.
There was a bleep, the hidden screen lit-up and the door silently slid open.
“Oh my gosh!” said Karen, dropping the mop and putting her hands at her mouth. “You broke it, you dumbass. You’re in deep shit” she mumbled to herself.
She tried to tap on the screen, put her hand over the hand drawing, the door was staying open.
“Hel… Hello?” she risked, peeking her head inside the other room, filled with electronic equipment.
She wanted to find someone, to tell them it was an accident and to close the door.
She walked in, slowly, making small steps, her heels clicking. Nervous, she kept rubbing her front thighs with her hand, feeling the tight jeans, ready to rip opened at the slightest opportunity.
“Hello? Anybod… What the fuck…” she said, startled as she looked around a corner. There was a vertical tube with someone hanging inside, like suspended.
She got closer, nervous, now unconsciously, rubbing her back thighs and buns. Heels clicking, she approached the tube, a mix of scared and curiosity.
Then she smiled and giggled.
“It’s just some sort of suit.” she said, letting out a sigh.
She felt a presence behind her, but she didn’t have time to say a word as there was a sharp pain on her neck and everything went black.
Her head hurt. She softly moaned, slowly getting back to her senses. She was half sitting and half laying down, sitting on her legs, hands in her back, against something metallic.
Her legs were straining, her tight jeans almost cutting the circulation from her weird legs position. The lights were dim and blueish.
Her face was pressing against something, or there was something stuck to her face. She tried to bring her right arm forward to touch it, but it wouldn’t move.
Her position was not comfortable, perhaps her arm had gone numb. She barely recalled what happened. She tried to with her left arm, but…. Strange. Her right arm was following, like a tugged.
She tried to move her legs, to change her position. She couldn’t…. What the hell?
She remembered the glass door, the laboratory, the strange tube with someone hanging inside, then the pain… Oh, that’s it. She’s been abducted.
That sort of jumped-start her brain. Now she realized fully her predicament: she was tied up and gagged.
She heard footsteps, and voices, getting closer.
“… So, instead of confronting her, you hit her on the head with a jug?”
“Yes and I tied her up there, in the corner. I mean she’s a spy. What should I have done? She would probably have killed me with one of those super-spy gadgets or something…”
The footsteps were now by her. Two men turned the corner of the nearest big cabinet and stopped. One of them, an older man, she recognized, looked at her in shock, while the other one, much younger, was frantically balancing his weight from one foot to the other.
“Oh my gawd! Karen! Are you alright?”
“Y… you know her? You know that spy?”
“That’s no spy, Phil. That’s Karen. She’s the night janitor. She’s been here for years!” he said, pointing at her.
“Mfffmm mppmmhsooon??” (Mister Thompson?)
“Well, how did she get the secret door opened? Only a spy can do that. You have to know the code, then the hand print and…”
“Phil. That system is crap. I happened to bang my suitcase on the wall before I was even able to call the hand print scanner and the door opened. It looks like they took that thing out of old 2006 Mazda*. Her mop and bucket are by the door. She may have simply opened it without even asking for it.”
“But… she had sneaked in and…”
“You would have known, having questioned her instead of knocking her unconscious.”
“I… But she’s a spy! I’m telling you. She’s a…”
“Phil, go back to your post. I’ll take care of it.” she said, crouching by Karen’s side and taking off the piece of cloth wrapped around her mouth to gag her.
“Pfft… Thank you Mr. Thompson. I swear, I’m not a spy. It was an accident. I was looking for someone to tell them that the door had opened by itself when I hit the wall with my mop and…Oooooo. Thanks.” she said, as he removed the rope tying her wrists together.
“It’s okay, Karen.” he said, undoing the rope at her ankles. “Tell me. What did you see?” he softly asked.
“Nothing much, really. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” she quickly added.
“You probably don’t know any of that stuff anyways, don’t you?”
“Well, I’m no techno nerd, Mr. Thompson. I mean, I have problems installing apps on my phone.” she said as he was trying her to get up, but her legs were not responding.
“My legs are numb. Probably the position and the fact that my jeans might be a little… tight.” she said with a weird smile.
“You’re lucky they did not split open. Damn, those are really tensed.” he said, as he felt her jeans as he was trying to massage her left thigh as Karen was doing the same to her right one.
After a few moments, he helped her again to get up, which she managed to do. She was unsteady on her heels, but for once in her life, was glad she was not wearing her beloved 5 inchers.
He helped her, holding her firmly, walk away from the corner. She had to pass again in front of the tube with the woman hanging inside the gooey stuff or something. She couldn’t repress a horror face, which made her miss a step, quickly recovered by Mr. Thompson.
“What? What is it, Karen. You’re okay.”
“Han, han…” she said, eyes wide, a frightened expression on her face, then her face lit up as she realized her mistake.
“That’s only a suit?”
“Where? What? Oh… That? You thought it was someone…”
He burst out laughing.
“That’s only a suit. We keep it in this gel for protection. I have to admit, now that I see it with your eyes, that it does seem creepy at first.” she said, giggling. “Never thought of that.”
“What… what is it?” she asked, walking toward the tube, looking at the suit in admiration. It was black, obviously shiny, and appeared very small for its length. And those feet, ending pointing down, like a ballet dancer. And that waist, incredibly small compared with the rest of the suit. There weren’t even holes for the eyes or the mouth or anything.
“That’s a… let’s just say that it’s a protective garment. A prototype. But it’s not working.”
“Well… if it’s not working…” she said, sliding her hand on the glassy tube, as if to feel the suit inside, “can… can I have it?”
“Say what?” asked Mr. Thompson, totally puzzled. “Why the hell would you want that?”
“Well, it looks tight as hell, and I…” she began to say, then realizing what she was doing, daydreaming her fetishes, she snapped out of it. “I… Nothing. Forget it.” she said, pulling her hands off the tube as if it was suddenly burning them, turning around. “The door is that way, right?” she said, walking away, heels clicking.
Mr. Thompson quickly looked back and forth at the suit and at Karen, then back at the suit.
“Oh, Karen! Wait!!” loudly said Mr. Thompson, almost like an order, which freaked out Karen who began to walk faster.
“Wait! Wait! I may have something for you!” he said.
Karen had mixed feelings: quickly walking out of there, embarrassed from exposing her fetishes (as if they weren’t already) and the possibility of having the suit. She slowed down, made a few more steps before stopping and turning around, avoiding Mr. Thompson’s eyes. He walked to her.
“Wait. I figured, well everybody did, that you love to wear tight clothes and heels, and that suit… interests you? Would you like to try it?”
“No… forget it, Mr. Thompson. That’s not for me. It’s just a fantasy.”
“And for me, it might be a breakthrough. Lets go to my office. We need to talk.” he said, gently grabbing her by the arm, in a very friendly manner, like someone who found something that he had been searching for a long time, and not wanting to lose it.
The door silently opened and closed behind her. She was struck by the rising sun. Damn! How long was she unconscious?
They took the elevator, and Mr. Thompson inserted his special key, allowing it to rise to the very last floor, where his very private office was located. It would be a first for Karen.
The office was richly furnished with an incredible view over the city.
“Please, take a seat, Karen.” said Mr. Thompson, pointing to one of the luxurious leather covered chairs. Karen gently sat on it, feeling the smooth leather against her tight jeans. She was more or less sitting, her jeans not allowing her hips her full range of movement. She rubbed the fine leather covered armrests with her hands, feeling the leather, smelling it.
“Well, Karen.” he said, sitting behind his large desk and logging into his computer, “I have a very unusual proposition for you.” he said, but before, I need you to sign some official documents.”
“Uh… Okay?” was all that Karen could answer. His printer turned on and a few moments later, two sheets of paper were put in front of her. In big red letters was written “confidentiality agreement”, and “special ops confidentiality agreement”.
“I guess you understand the purpose of those documents?”
“Well, I would guess that if I’m to tell anyone about what I’ve seen, I’m fired.” she answered.
“In part, yes. You’ll also be sued for whatever damage this hypothetical leak caused. But it is also for what you’re about to learn.”
Karen looked at him puzzled for an instant, then realized that she would be taken deeper into this secret lab. That could be dangerous, but if all it takes to be able to try that suit was to sign those forms, so be it. She will keep it a secret.”
“Oh. Yes, I do understand, Mr. Thompson.” said Karen, reading the rather short document, filled with words she was expecting to see. There was nothing hidden. then signed it.
Mr. Thompson smiled.
“Karen, you might have just changed history.”
She raised her eyebrows, puzzled.
“In good times. Now, what we do here is we’re developing a long duration stasis pod. You know what this is?”
“It’s for space travel, some sort of hibernation device.”
“Yes, something like that. The stasis tube we developed needs a special suit.”
“The one I saw in the tube”.
“Yes, and that’s the problem, and that’s when you come in.”
“How? I mean, I’m no scientist or anything.”
“No. I need you. Your body.”
Her body tensed. She was ready to flee. Thompson realized what he said and quickly intervened.
“Oh gawd. No, not that way. I’m sorry. You see, in the process, the stasis pod is filled with… erm… a specific gaseous atmosphere, which would damage the skin if it comes in contact with. So, the suit must be very close to the body.”
“Oh, you mean skintight?” said Karen, puzzled.
“Yes. Well, I would say, even tighter than that…”
“Oh.” said Karen, who quickly smiled, by the time she was imagining herself enclosed in a suit so tight that… but quickly hid her thoughts. “But, I mean, you were able to, right, do it?”
“Yes. But each volunteer that tried it, either male or female, just couldn’t cope with it. Because they were not used to being that tightly enclosed, they were unable to lower their brain patterns and go into what we call, stasis mode, where the body metabolism slows down.”
“And I’m different because?…”
“Well, isn’t it obvious? You wear tight clothes everyday, so tight that sometimes, I saw you almost unable to bend down to retrieve the mop or broom you dropped. I believe I even saw you with one of those corsets, at least once.”
“Oh.” said Karen, realizing that, well, it showed. “So you think that I would make a difference?”
“Well, you are our best bet so far. But first, I must point out that it is a volunteer offer. There are risks.”
“Like the skin burns?”
“Yes. We had one incident. The process was stopped before it was too late, but there was some skin damage. And we don’t know how it will all go down. I mean, nobody ever really went into stasis.” he said, picking up another document that he had ordered to be printed.
“Here are the details. Take the time to read it. I’ll go back down to see how things are going. I will be back in about half an hour. Is that okay”
“Uh, yes. I think.” shyly said Karen.
Puzzled, not sure, she took the document and began to read it, while Thompson walked off the room to the elevator.
She was no PhD, but she wasn’t dumb. She read the document, carefully, three times, highlighting the few passages that were making her uncomfortable, and waited for his return.
He came back close to an hour later.
“So, what’s your decision?”
She asked to clarify the few points she had highlighted. Thompson smiled at her thoroughness. She had made sure to understand the document, the test and its implications.
“I would tend to understand that you’re going for it?” he asked, a hoping smile on his face.
“That’s tempting, but… you said it’s a volunteer job. It means, I don’t get paid?”
“What? No, you do get paid, with insurance and stuff, it’s on page five.”
“I… I don’t have a page five.” she said, showing him the document.
Startled, he looked at the printer, and there it was, still there.
“I’m terribly sorry. Here.” he said, handing out the document.
Again, Karen read it, three times, highlighting some passages, especially what they called the compensation.
“That’s not right. I mean, it’s more than what I make in a month for a single test session.”
“That session is 24 hours.” as if it was obvious that the pay was reasonable for a session that long.
“I’m in.” said Karen, signing the documents. Thompson was smiling ear to ear.
The test had been set up at night, so there would be less people in the building, and also, less people seeing Karen coming in during the day and asking questions, which suited Karen, used to work at night.
She wasn’t coming in as the night janitor, so she went… full blast.
She started off by a long sleeved, dark blue, Realise swimsuit. Just putting it on proved a challenge. Tight fitting was not the right word.
She began by putting her legs in the holes and pulling up to her crotch, tugging on it, smiling. She then fed her left arm through the tight sleeve, slowly, giving time to the tight shiny fabric to warm up and stretch. She tugged gently on it, pinching it to pull it on, starting at the wrist, getting some slack, then going up her arm, then again, from the wrist, up her arm, until it finally reached her shoulder.
She was arching forward, trying to get as much slack as he could, and fed her right arm through the equally tight sleeve, struggling to use her left arm to pinch and pull the fabric, working it up her shoulders.
When she felt both were high enough, she raised her upper body, stretching her arms up, to get the suit down, letting out a faint yelp as the suit tugged at her crotch.
She turned toward the bed and picked her jeans, holding them in the air by the waist. Any bystander would say “no way these will fit”. And they would be right. Almost. They were stretch, black coated denim jeans. She proceeded to put them on.
Passing her feet was already a feat. As for the swimsuit, she tugged on them, on small steps, getting them up to her hips, before pulling them up, again against her crotch, before laying on her back on the bed, working the two sides together, struggling to pull the zipper up. Tooth by tooth, the zipper went up until fastening the button was easy. Relatively speaking.
As she was laying down, she proceeded with the front zipper of her swimsuit, she had left down to help get the jeans.
She began by slowly, yet firmly, grabbing the two sides and pulling them together, expertly gripping them with one hand to pull the zipper up a little, squishing her ample breasts in the process.
With awkward movements she got up from the bed, feeling the whole extent of her choice of clothes.
She made a few steps to a row of shoes, waiting to be put on, and got on a pair of dark blue leather pumps, sporting an impressive six inches heel.
She topped it all by a red leather jacket, with tight fitting sleeves.
She just loved feeling hugged by her clothes, almost to the point of being restricted in her movements.
She walked out to the underground parking of her apartment building, her heels echoing off the concrete wall, until she reached her motorbike, putting on her full face helmet. It was a little hard to put on: she liked it tight, and it also had the narrowest visor she could find. She topped her outfit with tight leather riding gloves.
She rode off the empty street, the street lights reflecting off her leather jacket and shiny pants. The few people walking the street turned to look at her. She was quite sight.
She parked her bike, removed her helmet, untangling her hairs with her gloved hands, and took the elevator to the fourth floor of the building.
If she wanted to be inconspicuous, she totally missed the target: the sounds of her heels on the hard tiled floor was primarily attracting the attention. Then the creaking of her leather jacket. And if one was to turn around to see what was all that noise, he would be facing a tall, slim woman, wearing glittering tight jeans, a sleek leather jacket, opened on a shiny undershirt, her long brown curled hairs floating on her shoulders, easily gliding off the leather jacket, walking with a hip movement that would melt anyone, guy or gal.
She stopped in front of the black wall, turning to face it, bringing her legs together until the shoes touched each other, then bent forward at the hips to tap the wall where the screen would be.
The hand print lit up. She put her hand with a smile and waited, hearing the door unlock then silently slide open.
She walked in, the door closing automatically behind her: the mechanism had obviously been repaired.
The sounds of her heels entering attracted the attention of the two men standing behind large consoles.
“Hey, hi Kar…Oh…” said the oldest of the two.
“Hello Mr. Thompson. Err… Something wrong?”
“I wasn’t expecting you to walk in… dressed like that.” he said, wide eyes, obviously admiring the curvaceous figure in front of him. “You do know that you are to wear the suit tonight, for the fitting, right?”
“Yes, Mr. Thompson. I’m eager to try it.” she said, beginning to literally peel off her leather jacket.
“Oh… okay.” he said, looking puzzled. By his side, Phil had his jaw reaching the floor, but he snapped out of it when Karen looked at him.
“Something… wrong?” asked Karen, looking down at herself, at her rather shiny, but incredibly tight outfit, following Thompson’s gaze.
“It’s just that, knowing you would have to get undressed, I had imagined you would have worn something more… comfortable.”
“Why? That’s perfect.” she said, smiling, sexily walking toward the suit, still inside its protective tube, her tight jeans pinching her buns with each step, her heels clicking, still struggling to take off the jacket, but as if all of it was perfectly normal. “I’m ready to put it on when you are.” she said.
“… Yes, YES, of course. Phil, please?” said Thompson, then hearing nothing, turned to the young man, who was staring at Karen’s butt, obviously hypnotized.
“Phil?… PHIL!” he said, louder.
He snapped out of it by dropping his tablet.
“Yes, yes, Mr. Thompson. I’m on it. Checking the pod’s confinem…”
“Not the pod, Phil. The suit. Get the suit out of the tube… please?”
By then, Karen finally had the leather jacket off and was slowly pulling the zipper of her body suit down. The suit was raised by an electric winch, out of the tube, the liquid or whatever it was, sliding off totally, leaving nothing, not even a drop on it, yet making the suit shine as if it was liquid black paint.
“That’s cool.” said Karen. “I mean the way that liquid isn’t sticking to the suit. What is it?”
“That’s a silicone compound. But it’s not the liquid that’s not sticking to the suit, it’s the suit to which nothing could stick on. You could dip it in hot glue, it won’t stick to it. Now, you… Euh…” he said, turning to Karen, seeing that her bodysuit was opened, showing her deep cleavage, and she was in the process of unzipping her jeans, having already stepped down from her high heel pumps.
“Oh, sorry. Do you have a changing room?”
“No. Not really. I mean, we want to see how it is to put on, so… but you’re not wearing any… underwear?”
“No. I pretty much never do. Is that a problem?”
“I… Euh… But…”
“Hey, don’t worry, Mr. Thompson. It’s okay for you to… watch. It’s just a human body, after all.” she said, now bent in half, tugging down on her tight jeans to take them off, to finally struggle to get her bodysuit off, for which she had some difficulties. “I’m sorry, could you grab the back and pull it down? It’s very tight and I did sweat a little in it…” said Karen, turning around.
Thompson gently put his fingers between the tight fabric and Karen’s smooth and silky skin to pull the suit off while Karen was squirming. As soon as she was one arm peeled off the suit, by turning it inside-out, she turned around to thank him and within a few moments, she was totally naked.
By then, the suit had been lowered at her level.
She looked at it, touching it, feeling it.
“Feels like rubber or something.” she said.
“The inside and outside are coated with rubber. The inner layers are a mix of specialized fibers, nanotubes, sensors, and other stuff you don’t need to worry about.” he said. “Now, today the goal is simply for you to put it on, to see how it fits. If it’s good, you’re to wear it for a couple of hours, to make sure it’s fine and you can cope with it. That’s the farthest we went. All the previous testers gave up after less than an hour.
“Cool. Now, where does it open? Where’s the zipper?” she asked, spinning the suit still hooked to its hanger.
“You get in it through the neck.”
“Oh! A neck entry catsuit? I’ve seen those but never tried one before. Do you have the lube?”
“Lube? Oh, no need. The suit has been soaking in it. Should be easy to put on. At least, it has been all the previous times.” Said Thompson, unhooking the suit and carefully putting it down, inviting Karen to sit on a nearby stool.
She lifts her feet and Thompson, helped by Phil, puts her tiny feet inside the equally narrow neck opening, pulling it up, stretching it, getting it to her shin before returning to her feet and feeding the rest of the suit on.
Karen felt the main body of the suit pass by, quite snug, actually, then the legs, becoming tighter and tighter as it reached down to the calf high boots, to the attached pointed boots.
The boots had two rigid halves that were pulled apart as her feet went on, before closing back.
Then, Thompson, each taking one boot, wrapping their hand around it and squeezing. Karen felt a few hard clicks as they snapped the halves together, putting her feet in a rigid, pointed position, like a permanent ballet dancer.
She began to pull on the suit, getting up her leg as much as possible. The suit was getting tighter as it rose up her legs.
Now, she had to stand up. She loved high heels, but pointed boots, without any heel, was a first.
She let herself down slowly, putting gradually her weight on her newly booted feet. Everything was fine.
“Feels weird, but I think I can manage.” she said, all smiling, like it was a great victory.
Holding the bulk of her suit around her stomach now, she made a few steps before coming back to the stool, to grab a hold if needed.
The two men pulled on the suit again, stretching the neck so she could feel one arm inside, and to pass it over her ample breasts. Altho Mr. Thompson was quite a gentleman and proceeded with caution, Phil, on the other hand, did quite a few squeeze that Karen felt were more than accidental. But she didn’t mind, accidental or not.
After putting her other arm inside, the suit slid up her shoulders, the collar shrinking back to its original size, the last bit of air inside the suit, getting expelled with a funny sound and a tickling feeling. She wiggled her fingers into the attached gloves, stretching the suit, tugging on it from one arm to the other, rotating her arms, bending over. She felt the suit glide on her, take its place, pulling hard on her crotch.
She had to concentrate not to moan too much, and especially, not to put her hands there, because she was willing to let her fingers play.
The feeling was simply awesome. She liked the hugging feeling of tight clothes? That was beyond her wildest dream. Everything was tight, from her feet to her fingers. Each breath was a struggle against the tight catsuit, and it seemed to become… tighter?
“Yes.” answered Thompson. “The nanotubes will try to keep the suit as tight as possible, to make sure there’s no air pocket anywhere. That… That’s where the other models had difficulties. It became too tight for them. How… how do you feel?” he asked.
As she moved her arms to get to her waist, rubbing it up and down, feeling it getting squeezed, she also realized that her arms were getting tighter, her armpit, her chest. Bending them was more difficult.
“It’s… It’s fine, Mr., Thompson. I’m okay.” she said, breath shaking, her eyes getting wider as the suit slowly tightened around her body.
“Ah… well, we would have tried. Let me help you take it off.” he said, reaching for the collar.
“What? Why? I don’t want to take it off? Why do you want to take it off?” she asked, slowly backing away.
“Err… Well, your reaction. I thought it was too tight. The others had that reaction too and… you want to keep it on?”
“Of course. I’m sorry if my reaction led you to believe that, but rest assured. This suit is awesome!” she said with the widest smile, as she rubbed her thighs, then her waist, feeling the smoothness of the suit, and especially, how tight it was and still tightening, slowly.
“Oh! Good then.” he said, with a nervous laugh. “Do we go, I mean, are you ready for the hood?”
“Yes, Bring it on!”
Phil approached with the latex garment, and carefully slid it over Karen’s head, tucking her hair inside, then stretching it before pulling the zipper down.
Karen felt the latex cling to her face then become tighter as the nanotubes began their work. The small holes around her mouth and eyes kind of magically clung to her skin, as if glued on as the hood squished her hairs to get as tight as possible.
“Usually, the person going into stasis will have to shave her head. The nanotubes might get a lot tighter right now because of that,” said Thompson, “trying to get all the air out.”
“Ah. Okay.” answered Karen, her brain overwhelmed by the sensations.
“That seems quite good, so far. How do you feel, Karen?”
“That’s pretty… intense.” she managed to say, trying to find the right word, without including horny, hot, aroused, teased or anything from being too sexual. The fact was, that she was horny, hot, arousing and she was teased with every move, every breath. She liked it. The tightness, the smoothness, being totally encased, the heels. “So. What should I do now?”
“I… I don’t know. We never went that far before… Just walk around, I guess. Phil, is everything okay?”
“Yes, Mr. Thompson. I have a link with the suit, reporting body temperature, heart rate, oxygen level in the blood, blood pressure. Blood pressure is a little high, but we got the same readings from everyone”.
Karen walked around, the tip of her boot making a small clicking sound with every step. She was rocking her hips like only she knew how to do, making the suit slide on her body, creating a gentle rubbing. Dang! She was so hot. She wished she was alone to… She quickly realized that her hand was already down there.
She tried to change her mind by walking some more, visiting the rather large laboratory. She even saw the pod, where she laid down in it, and actually fell asleep, much to the mixed feeling of dismay and accomplishment of the two men. If she was comfortable in that tight suit to fall asleep, she would be perfect for the first full test.
“We’re getting way ahead of our test schedule here, but would you try the helmet?” said Thompson, carrying with him what Karen thought was a thin motorcycle full face helmet.
“What for? I’m gonna bang my head around, or something?”
“Ah, no. Although it gives your head protection, which is actually a… side effect, it houses the computer screen that would tell you the status of your stasis, as well as monitors brain activity, plus adds the last sealing layer, while providing breathable air.” he said, pointing respectively at the lense, a small panel with lights at the back, and the inside where a spout like part was visible.
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” she said.
He proceeded to open the helmet in half, being linked only from the top of it. He carefully adjusted the front piece over Karen’s face, positioning the breathing mask over her nose and mouth, then slowly lowered the back half. She could see though rather dark lenses over her eyes. She heard a click, followed by someone pressing at the back, and informations began to display on top of the lenses, like floating in the air.
“Cool!” she said.
“You’re seeing something?”
“Yeah, a bunch of data of some sort, but most are… gibberish, I mean, it’s all dollar signs. I figure this thing is expensive, but…” she said, giggling.
“That’s okay.” said Phil. “These information comes from the pod. Since it’s not activated… If you stare at the white dot at the bottom left of the screen, a menu will appear. You stare at the selection and…”
“Oh, wow!! I got night vision in this thing? What for? I would be in stasis.”
“We’re testing a bunch of technology at the same time, Karen.” Said Thompson “so we integrated night vision, high UV protection, meaning that you could look directly at the sun. We also added heat mapping, which is a different use of the night vision sensors, it could be linked to the central computer of the future spaceship or something.”
“Cool. You really thought of… oh, I have a red warning: integrity.”
“Yes, I figure you would get that when I closed it. It’s not tight enough on your head. The integrity is compromised, meaning that the pod gas would enter the mask. We’ll have to make a few adjustments.”
“So, I take it off, now?”
“No, don’t worry about it. You’re not in the pod anyways. Just… keep it for a while, unless it’s really a nuisance.”
“Oh, not at all.” she said, feeling she sounded too joyous, she quickly took a lower tone “I… I want to get used to it.”
The fact was that she loved it, and it would have been better if it would have been tighter. After all, it was riding a motorbike, and she would have loved to have a helmet like that! It even got a rear-view camera!!
A few hours later, all the tests needed were completed and Karen was taken out of the suit, to her own disappointment.
“I would have gone home with this thing on.” she said once it was off, much to the astonishment, and delight of Thompson, happy to have found the right person for the tests.
“So, do I come back tomorrow, or do I enter for my regular job?” she asked, facing the two stunned men who had just witnessed her struggle to get her street clothes back on.
“Err… what?” Asked Thompson, visibly in another world, “Oh.. No. You don’t come back at all.”
“What? Oh… Wait. Not at all? Am I fired?” she asked, shocked.
“What? Oh damn. No. Sorry. It’s been a…. Been a… long night.” he said, fishing an excuse for his lack of concentration. “I mean, all have been taken care of. You’re officially on paid vacation for the next month. When you’re not needed here, you stay home. You may come anyways, but you will just find it boring, probably. Right now, we need to make some modifications to the helmet. So… See you in two days? Is that okay with you?”
“Oh! Yes! Cool, Mr. Thompson. See you in two days.” she said, clicking her way out of the laboratory.”
For the next month, Karen would get to the lab every few days, for sometimes just a few hours, and some other times for a few consecutive days, as they quickly improved the suit and the helmet, the suit getting even tighter, and the helmet more form fitting. Her month paid vacations extended to another month, then another, until she was officially muted to the R&D department, because it was getting suspicious, as people, especially the janitor replacing her, was seeing her get in or out of the building on odd hours.
One night, she came in, sporting a tight and shiny PVC catsuit and thigh high, high heel boots.
As usual, her presence was announced by the sound of clicking heels. Mr. Thompson turned toward her, and startled.
“Hey, welcome Kar…. What’s with the bike helmet?” he asked, puzzled at the fact that Karen had kept her motorcycle full face helmet on.
Without a word, Karen took off the helmet, to show a totally bald head.
“You… you shaved your head? Why?” asked Phil, as stunned at Thompson.
“Well, didn’t you say that, today, we would test the full functionality of the pod? Well, I don’t want to have any frostbites or anything of that nature on my scalp, so, I shaved it.” she said, all smiling, running her hand on her smooth head.
“We would have gotten you out before…” began to stutter Thompson “I mean, we did it before, getting you out before anything bad happened, but now that you… you know… shaved it, we can change the scope of the test. That would take about two hours, tho.” he said, gesturing Phil to get to it.
“That’s fine. I’ll get the suit on.” said Karen, walking past them to push the button to get the suit out of her liquid filled tube.
“There’s no rush, you know? If you want to wait before putting it on…”
“Nah. I like it.” she said, having already removed her boots and in the process of taking off the suit.
By now, both men were used to seeing her naked, but she was still a sight. She could now put the suit all by herself, including snapping the ballet boots on.
Putting the hood over her bald head was something new, and it was awesome. She loved how the latex glued to her skin, how now, she was feeling everything smooth instead of her lump of hair. She had experienced something similar when she put on her bike helmet. In fact, she had gone out and bought a new one, smaller, knowing that she liked it tight.
The suit helmet had been purposely made tighter to account for it, which had made it uncomfortable all the previous times, limiting her time in it. Now, it was perfectly tight. She could wear it for hours.
Less than five minutes later, she was walking amongst the equipment. The helmet prevented anybody to see, but she was smiling ear to ear. There was more to it than it showed, as, unbeknownst to them, she had added some toys. She wanted to live a really awesome experience: entering a stasis state fully plugged!
It was part of the experiment at first, to see the resistance and mobility of the suit, but it was now part of her daily routine: she went to the small attached gym, equipped with a treadmill and a rowing machine, and went on it. It wasn’t long before she began to sweat profusely, creating a layer of lubrication between the suit and her skin. Damn, she was so hot, but having an orgasm there wouldn’t be… scientifically proper. It took all her strength not to have one.
When she came back from the gym and into the lab, thanks to the suit, nothing of her sweat was showing. They confirmed to her that everything was a go and were glad to know that she could stand the helmet for a longer time now.
Things were going well with the setup, and Karen was put inside the pod. Straps secured her at the ankles, waist upper chest and wrists. The pod was intended to be used in space, so in a weightless environment, where a ship might enter sudden change of course. Those straps were simply there to prevent the person in stasis from moving around. A full test meant a full setup.
Karen squirmed, testing her… bounds, as if she was settling comfortably, while actually, her mind was racing not to go into an orgasm.
The breathing tubes were connected to the helmet, as well as a longer, small tube, going just past her lips, where a zero waste nutrient would be injected at regular intervals through the stasis period.
“Okay, communication check. You hear me, Karen?” asked Thompson as Phil ordered the pod lid to close.
“Yes. Loud and clear”. She answered. “Status is showing.” she added, confirming that her visor was displaying the required information.
“Good. Filling the chamber.” he said.
Karen could feel the cold gas feeling the pod. She was nervous. Anything could happen, but she had full confidence in them, having witness and experience the pod safely all the previous tests.
She felt dizzy, the stasis gas entering her system, then she lost it.
Everything was going well. Everything was going according to plan. So much that Thompson and Phil had fallen asleep on their chair, in front of the row of computer screens. They were awakened by an alarm. Nothing serious, it happened from time to time.
But this time was different. It was a major dysfunctional alarm. As more alarms went on, they turned around, to look through the window of the laboratory, at the pod: it was glowing… from the inside!
It was as if it was being consumed by a blue fire. They rushed in. The sound was deafening, as if thousands or lightning bolts were firing at the same time. Inside the pod, Karen was completely covered by a layer of blue electricity, her body shaking, kept in place by the straps. They tried to reach the emergency stop button, but as soon as they got closer, they were zapped, lightning bolts jumping out of the pod.
Phil, quick thinking, ran out of the lab to grab a broom, which gave him enough reach to push the emergency stop button.
Within a few seconds, everything was dead, and the pod was opening, letting out a puff of smoke. Inside the pod, motionless, was Karen, her body, well her suit, apparently in perfect condition.
“Well, the suit held fine.” said Phil, getting a disapproving grin from Thompson.
“What about her? I don’t care for the fucking suit.” he said, taking the straps off, straps that had changed from flexible to rigid, so much that he had to smash them off.
“She’s breathing.” he said, seeing her chest rise and fall regularly, almost normally. They took her out of the pod and put her on a nearby table. She moaned.
“Karen! Karen. Are you alright?”
“”Whut?” she said, dizzy, trying to figure out what happened, where she was. Who she was. As she moved her hand to try to touch her head, she felt the tight suit compressing her arm. She saw the information displayed in front of her eyes, with “malfunction” flashing in red. She quickly gathered her senses.
“What happened? Did I break something?”, she said, trying to sit down.
“We don’t know what happened, yet. You were surrounded by some kind of electrical field. Are you hurt?”
Karen thought for a moment, somewhat feeling her body, moving her limbs, getting on her booted feet, making a few steps.
“Well, apart from the fact that the suit seems a little bit tighter than it was, I feel fine.” she answered.
“Let’s take that helmet off.” said Thompson, pushing the release button, but nothing happened. “Damn, it’s stuck. Phil, hand me the knife over there.”
But the knife did nothing, nor the screwdriver, not even hammering it in. Carefully, they tried a drill bit on the latching mechanism, but the bit would slide off the helmet, without making a thing as small as a scratch.
“We’ll deal with that later, at the building workshop. Any indication of what happened?” asked Thompson to Phil.
“It’s weird. According to the diagnostic log, there was some unforeseen conductivity between the suit and the body.”
“Inconclusive. It would suggest the presence of… liquid.”
“Liquid? Like… pee?”
“Hey! I didn’t pee in the suit!” said Karen. “Well, not consciously. Maybe while I was in stasis?”
“No, your bladder was empty. Wait. You went to the gym. Did you sweat?”
“Yeah, like… a lot!” said Karen, giggling. “Makes the suit more comfortable.” she added. “Why? You think that… You never told me I didn’t have to sweat in it. I mean, it’s rubber. I’m bound to sweat!”
“Technically, yes, but this is a stasis suit. Normally, whoever is to wear it is to go into stasis shortly after putting on the suit, so no time to sweat. One more… feature we will have to up. Okay, let’s take you out of it.” said Thompson.
However as with the helmet, the boots were impossible to take off. As for the suit itself, although they could feel the seams between the hood and the suit, they were unable to pull them apart. Cutting the suit off: the blade slipped on it.
While they were trying to figure a way to get the suit off, Karen was thinking: what if she was stuck in that thing? Was it really that bad? It does feel good, tight and now, apparently, less flexible, which made it almost like a… bondage suit. Her toys were still there and, well, she sort of liked it.
In stasis, the high value nutrient was to be administered automatically every six months. Since she wasn’t in stasis, she had to be fed every week, but as it generated no waist, the fact that the suit had no evacuation hole proved no problem.
Because, ten days later, she was still in the suit. Thompson, Phil and a bunch of other scientists were looking at her in dismay.
“Seems that we can’t find a way to get you out of this suit, Karen. Sorry. Damn, the lasers simply bounce off! I swear we will find a way.” said Thompson.
Karen got up from the exam table she was sitting on, made a few steps and turned around, facing the row of people having tried to get her out.
“So, let me get this straight: you can’t cut the suit off. It resists to blades, lasers, and every other kind of energy or physical thing you threw at it”
“That’s about it…” said Thompson.
“With my helmet, I can see in different wavelengths, I can even see in the dark. My microphone could amplify very faint sounds, which makes it almost a super-ear. I can go without food for over a week. The suit has somewhat gotten more rigid, which acts like an armor.”
“We know all that, Karen. Where are you heading at?”
“I’m like a superhero! I should take on the world!”
“What? Wait! What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m invincible! I’m a super here. I’m SuperKaren!”
“What? No, you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m SuperWoman… No, LatexWoman… I’m… I’m…”
“No, Karen, you’re not a su…”
“YES! I GOT IT!” she said, taking a superhero launching pose. “I’M CAPTAIN LATEX! Tam! Dam, Daaaaaaammmm!!!!!”
Nobody could answer. They were all in shock, as Karen hopped her way out of the research center.
© Pete / monsterp63, December 12, 2019
* This is so absurd that it’s not funny. I have a friend who didn’t bought any Mazda product after that, because of Mazda’s “dismissal” of the problem and, finally, their shitty solution.
And no, repairing the dent on the door was not part of the “warranty”.
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