She was sitting at the dining room table, staring at her empty plate and the small cake with a single candle on it.

“Happy birthday, Karen.” she mumbled before closing her eyes, thinking about her deepest wish and blowing the candle.

Of course, she succeeded. How much chance do one really need to blow ONE friggin candle.

She cut a small slice and put it on her plate, then took her glass of wine, the lights of the dining room reflecting on her black and shiny material coating her arms and hands. 

“You’re pathetic.” she mumbled as she brought the glass to her lips emptying her glass in one large gulp.

She pushed the chair away, leaving the piece of cake untouched.

That had been one hell of a day.

First, she had wanted to take the day off, for her birthday, but the Thompson Account, one of the biggest clients of the firm she was working for, and HER biggest account, had it otherwise, wanting last minute changes to the work already in progress.

So, scratched-off was the day off. Scratched-off was the dinner with friends. 

She was alone. With her cake.

Oh, she had put on her favorite in-house outfit: neck entry catsuit, complete with attached gloves and feet, hood, a leather corset and thigh high, high heel boots.

If she couldn’t have the day she wished for her birthday, she would have at least, the evening, and that, nothing could change it.

She startled as a furball jumped on the table. Oh, right, she wasn’t totally alone. She had her two cats. Babs and Buster(1).

“What are you doing here, sweety?” said Karen to the pure white cat. “You’re not supposed to jump on the table like that.” she said as she took the purring furball and put it gently on the ground, only to have Buster jump on her lap..

“Yeah, I neglected you today. I’ll make it up, I promise.” she said, scratching the yellow male cat.

She put it gently on the ground and got up. It was time for her own personal gift: a self bondage session.

Heels clicking on the hardwood floor, she walked to her bedroom where she would spend the next hour or so.

She had a friend who was good with gadgets, knew about her kinky lifestyle, and who had installed electro-magnets on the top of the bed, linked to an electronic timer within a control box, that allowed her to, in addition to control the magnets, also control toys, vibrators, tens units, and so forth.

The box itself was laying on the ground. It was installed on the wall, but she had taken it off to re-paint and, well, she was always moving the task of putting it back to later, and later, and… well, you can figure it out.

She took two vibrating dildos, set them to random, opened the crotch zipper of her catsuit and inserted them inside latex pouches, attached to her latex panties. She then added a steel chastity belt. With it on, she couldn’t play with her toys (as if she could anyway), nor take her corset off, meaning she was not taking her suit off.

While the dildos were randomly firing, she bent forward to fasten the ankle straps and linking her feet together, to a chain fixed to the foot of the bed. She locked it. Everything was locked, and the keys were in a timed box that would only open in the morning.

She brought her knees together with another set of leather cuffs, making her inner thighs bite into the chastity belt. She moaned. She liked it.

She took a harness ball gag and tightly fastened it around her head, pushing the large ball deep into her mouth. She worked it with her tongue, moaning, already enjoying the pleasure. She couldn’t put a blindfold as she had to see what she was doing, otherwise, she would have: being in a sensory deprivation situation was something arousing for her.

She set up the timer to one hour. She would have liked longer, but she needed time, in the morning, to get out of her latex suit and take a shower. She still had to work the next day. And it was an important day as she was presenting her new project to said big client, so some sleep was also needed. She didn’t mind sleeping in latex. Bound-up would have prevented her from really sleeping.

She stretched her left arm over the electro-magnet, guiding the steel plate over it.

Clunk! It was on. She had no way to get it off now. She looked over her right arm and guided the plate. Clunk! There it was. Now she was officially stuck for the next hour. She has a chicken button, of course. Well, she HAD. It was  part of the wallmount of the timer box. Now, it was on the floor, out of reach, but she knew the box was reliable. She had no fear.

She closed her eyes, rocking her hips, awaiting for the next fire of the intruders, drifting into her fantasy world where she would be sealed in rubber, and in constant bondage, living the same life she was living right now, meaning going to work, the grocery, all the regular stuff, but dressed in latex, corset, high heels, and always in some sort of restraint.

The dildos fired and she struggled against her bonds, increasing the pleasure, feeling  the latex stretch as she was tensing her muscles, pulling against the cuffs, the chains. Nothing give. She was secured, unable to get out, and the very thought that even her chicken button was out of reach, was even more arousing.

She drifted into her fantasy world.

Then, from afar, a faint beeping. Regular. Bip… Bip… Bip, about once every second. She was searching what it was, in her fantasy, before her brain realized that it was happening in the real world.

What the F…

She opened her eyes and turned toward the beeping sound. It was the electronic timer. She giggled. Standing on it, was buster, evidently pushing a button. The only button that could be was either the increase or the decrease button. Each bip adding or removing 5 minutes. She quickly realized that, by the number of beeps, if it was decreasing, she would have been free by now. It meant that it was increasing. How many had there been so far? Eight? Ten? Fifteen? She was looking at over an hour more of bondage.

She squirmed and yelled through her gag to have Buster get off the box. Oh it was limited… To 12 hours!

Finally, Buster got off and jumped on the bed, cuddling against her bound mistress, but… how much time did he add? Two hours? Well, she had no way out, now.

She began to panic. She thought about the meeting the next day, but… well, there was nothing she could do.

Better relax and enjoy it, then.

She tried, but the thought of not knowing how long she would be stuck was, at the same time, arousing and panicking.

The first orgasm went quickly, but wasn’t very powerful, and more triggered by the vibrations than real arousing thoughts. Things were silent for a while then another orgasm built up, slowly, and her thoughts were there, fully realizing her predicament, that she was stuck for an unknown amount of time. She was not in control. She was not directing it. Someone else was in control… Buster… 

Well, cats want to achieve world domination. That’s a way to do it.

It launched her, and the more she fought her restraints, the more powerful it became. She could feel the sweat building inside her latex suit. She wished she could open her legs, to play with the dildos, but her knee strap prevented it. It was awesome. Wonderful.

After that incredible orgasm, she quickly doze off from exhaustion and pleasure. It was getting late anyways and her body wanted to sleep. She was only kept awake by the vibrating dildos, but the urge to an orgasm wasn’t there. She had been satisfied. Big time.

Finally, the batteries drained out and she found sleep.

She heard beepings. Bip. Bip… Bip.

“No” she thought as she opened her eyes. “Bust…” she began to say as she turned toward the control box, but Buster wasn’t there. It wasn’t Babs either. It was…

“Mffffil?”

“Oh, Hi Karen, Nice device you got here.”

“Mffaas aafff oofff kooffffiiiggg eerrr?”

“What am I doing here? Well, your door was locked but apparently not fully closed, so I came in, expecting you to be already up. 

I was coming to talk to you about your presentation, because I feel my idea is better than yours and I think I should present my project instead of yours. I can see that you have already taken care of it. If I read this right, you still have, oh… 2 hours, and the meeting starts in two. You’ll be too late.

“Mfffaapp? kfoo oorr?”

“Yes, I took the liberty of sending a request to do the meeting earlier. You didn’t get it? Oh, perhaps it was because I sent it after midnight. Mr. Thompson agreed, so…” he said with a devilish smile “Honestly, Karen. You really think it’s fair you get all this money just to yourself? You should share, you know. Well, I’ll be surely taking over. Don’t worry, since Thompson will use most of my time, I’ll leave you my accounts in the meantime.

Karen complained, fought back, but bound and gagged as she was, it did nothing. He got up, smiling, giggling, looking at her like a predator on her prey.

“I didn’t know you were that kinky. I mean, you’re alone and everything is locked on! Interesting. Hey…That means that there are… yes, KEYS!”

He looked around and found the timed box in one of the bedside tables, the timer having released the keys. He grabbed the whole box and walked away, laughing.

Karen was yelling through her gag, but nothing much came out.

That was one heck of a birthday celebration… She was on the verge of losing her job! She couldn’t let him do it, but right  now, she had no choice.

Main company building. 

Conference room.

08:00

“Where is Karen?” asked a man, dressed in a shirt and a sport jacket, along with her partner and wife, a beautiful blond woman, dressed with a very classy dress.

“Yes, where is Karen, Phil?” asked a man dressed with a suit and tie, sitting in front of the blond woman.

“She… err… said that yesterday’s modifications were too hard for her, and she was taking the day off. She left me in charge of the presentation.”

“That’s not like her.” said the redhead woman sitting besides the man in a suit. “She would have noticed me of any change, I mean, I had to print the documents and…”

“Yeah, yeah, she says that she’s sorry about all that, Lynda. I took care of everything. You should thank me for it.” said Phil, “So, if you will, Mr and Mrs Thompson, I would like to present my solution for your upcom…”

The door of the room slammed open, and a tall woman, wearing a shiny black latex catsuit, covering her from head to toe, walking on very tall high heel boots, her waist crushed by a tight leather corset, itself circled by a steel belt going below through her crotch, entered with a confident attitude.

“What the hell… Karen?” asked the man in the suit? “Oh gawd. What the fuck are you doing.” he said, putting his hand at his forehead, in shock.

“Hello Mr. Smith, Mr. Thompson, Mrs Thompson… Lynda.” she said with a wink. “Let me explain, if you will… Phil.” she added with a disgusted tone on her voice, while staring at him.

“I’m eager to hear that explanation,” said Mr. Thompson. His wife had wide eyes and couldn’t take them off Karen’s suit.

Karen walked to the white board and took place, facing the table. Phil had slowly retreated to the corner, red, evidently pissed off.

“It will take just a short moment to explain everything.” Karen began. “We all know that your account is a major income for our company, and as my main client, you’re also my most important commission. So, some get jealous.” she said, looking at Phil. “That being said, yesterday, was my birthday. I had planned a wonderful day off, but the Thompson Project had other plans, making me work all day and even stay late.” she said, taking a dramatic pause.

“Well, I didn’t know…” began to say Mr. Thompson.

“And you didn’t have to know. My personal life is, well, personal… Until today, that is, thanks to Phil.” she said with a wink, which made him grunt.

“So, like I said I had a little treat to myself planned for my birthday. Yes, I’m a kinky fetishist.” she said, looking down, although limited by her wide collar, opening her arms in a display gesture, “and I had treated myself with a little self-bondage session. However, there was a little mishap caused by one of my cats, but that’s another story.” she said, having decided to spit it all instead of trying to find some bogus excuse.

Lucy, Mr. Thompson’s wife, had a little giggle.

“However, when I woke up, still very much in bondage, Mr. Phil, here was standing by my side, stating that he had purposely changed the time for the meeting, because he wanted to take over your account.”

“No! That’s a lie. That’s not…”

“Shut up, Phil. I want to hear the rest of the story.” barged in Smith. “ And yes, YOU changed the time of the meeting, and quite late yesterday. I was wondering why… Please go on, Karen.”

“Thank you, sir. Well, he came to my place and entered. Apparently, my door was not fully closed, funny since my alarm system would have advised me of such a mishap. Anyways, when Mr. Phil saw me in my predicament, instead of helping me out, he took the advantage, leaving me there, and leaving with the keys, which is why I’m still in full fetish gear.”

“But…” said Phil with a grin, “if I went to your place, which I haven’t and if I have the keys, which I don’t, how come you’re here? Shouldn’t you be still… bound to your bed. I didn’t touch your gizmo box.?” asked Phil.

Karen raised her eyebrows, although they were hidden by her latex hood, but Smith, Lynda and the Thompsons did raise their eyebrows too.

“Ever heard of spare keys? I didn’t have all of them, tho, that’s why I’m still stuck in it, and… who said I was bound in my bed?” asked Karen.

“Err… Y… You did.” said Phil.

“No, she didn’t, and I was wondering how she spent the night myself.” said Lucy.

“And what is that gizmo box you’re referring to?” asked Smith.

“It’s… well… I… “

Karen approached Phil, menacing, almost like a dominatrix, latex and leather creaking, heels stomping on the hardwood floor of the conference room. She stopped inches from her face.

“Give. Me. The. Keys.”

He could feel her hot breath in his face, and see the fire in her eyes, ready to kill him.

“They’re… they’re in my… desk. I was to give them back to you later, I promise…”

“This is all embarrassing.” said Smith. “Perhaps it’s better if we postpone the meeting…”

“No, we don’t have time for that.” said Lucy. “Karen, if you don’t mind doing it… as is… I would like to hear your project, and Phil, since you’re so eager to present it, you will do so afterward.”

“Oh I don’t mind.” said Karen. Deep down, it was a dream come true: working in full fetish gear, giving a presentation clad in latex, neck impaired by a heavy collar, balancing on high heels, feeling her, although depleted, toys, the chastity belt. This was a blast!

She gave her presentation as if everything was normal, feeling the tug of latex everytime she wrote on the white board, feeling her corset limiting her movements, having to balance on her heels, erasing the occasional error on the whiteboard with her gloved finger, feeling the restraint of the corset and collar everytime she turned around, hearing everything squeak with every move. She had fun. Total fun.

And since the proposal was what the Thompsons asked for, and what she spent her birthday working on, they were pleased.

Phil did his presentation, and much to Karen’s relief, it was received by grins and nods of disapproval from the Thompsons.

“This contains nothing that we asked for.”

“But it’s better, and the planning…”

“Phil, Karen, get out.” said Smith. “I have to talk to Mr and Mrs Thompson.”

In silence, they exited the room. Karen followed Phil to his desk, followed by the eyes of everybody along the way, who looked at Phil with disdain when they saw him handle a set of keys to Karen, proving his implications in this situation, who took her collar off to start with.

When the Thompsons and Smith walked out of the room, the Thompsons walked out of the office, not looking toward Karen, and Smith walked directly to them.

“You’re fired. Both of you.” he said, moving on.

Shocked, Karen knew she had no way out. It was obvious that, dressed like that, she was a no-fit to the company.

She quickly grabbed her few personal things and headed out, taking her hood off while walking, her hair, filthy and wet, falling on her shoulders.

As she reached her car, in the underground parking lot, she heard echoes of footsteps. Two sets. One male, and the other female, as she recognized the sounds of high heels. She turned around and faced Mr and Mrs Thompson.

“”Oh… hello. I’m really sorry for what happened back there and I fully understand you not wanting to work with me anymore.” said Karen. “I’m sure that whoever will take over your account will do a great job.”

“What? No.” said Lucy. “We want to work with you. Why… Did he fire you?”

“Yes, me and Phil.”

“No, we didn’t want that. We said that we were accepting your proposal and Smith said that he would make sure nothing like that would ever happen again.” said Mr. Thompson.

“We didn’t mind. In fact, you can come to work all tied up for all we care, as long as the job is done.” added Mrs. Thompson.

“Mark…” softly said Lucy, taking Mr. Thrompson’s arm and dragging him away. They whispered and looked at Karen back and forth, then Mr. Thompson spoke up.

“You spend most of your time on our different projects, isn’t that right?”

“Y… yes, Mr. Thompson. You’re my main workload.”  said Karen.

“What would you say about working directly for us, then?”

“We’ll make your office any way you like.” said Lucy.

The next thing she knew, she was sitting behind a large oak desk, her computer setup in front of her. She couldn’t talk, as her mouth was filled with a blow-up gag pumped until her cheeks were ready to explode. Her feet, encased in ballet toe boots, were securely linked to the floor with heavy chains. A wide posture collar ensured she was looking at only her computer screens. As she placed her rubber coated hands on the keyboard, she felt the heavy chains linking them to the desk.

She tried to take a deep breath and went back to work, deep breath limited by her crushing corset, typing with her latex gloves, feeling the steel band passing through her crotch, while the dildos vibrations were being transmitted to the hard wood chair she was tied up in with multiple ratchet straps.

She was living her dream.

Then she heard bips. Regular. Constant. She turned her head to see what it was about. They seemed distant. She blinked. The office became a blurry image, replaced by a ceiling fan. She was now laying down, arms stretched on each side of her head. She turned her head to see…Buster, sitting on the electronic timer of her electro-magnets.

© Pete / monsterp63, May 11, 2020

1. From the  WB/Spielberg cartoon of the 90’s. Those who know what I’m talking about, will know the title: T.T.A.