She slowly fed the smooth yet cold fabric up her foot, putting her toes into the individual pockets of latex, then slowly pulling the rubber upward, her breath shaking.

In part because of the coldness of the initial touch of the material, and also in expectation of what was to come.

Slowly, she pulled the latex up her leg, wrapping it in the tight rubber, feeling the pressure build up.

The latex was thick and tight. She was struggling to put on her neck entry catsuit and was barely able to take it off. She had devised a plan, in the shower, helped with a smoothed plastic hook, to be able to pull it off her shoulder for the first step of taking a neck entry latex catsuit off.

But for now, she was putting it on.

Now, both her legs were tightly encased in the smooth fabric, molding them perfectly. The rest of the suit was waiting on her stomach. She gently pulled the collar portion up, going over her rib cage, then stopped just shy of her ample breasts.. She put her right hand into the suit and searched for the arm opening. After a few moments, she found it and she gradually inserted her arm inside the tight sleeve.

Slowly, her hand creeped forward, into the attached glove.

She liked to take her time, making the pleasure last, feeling it, feeling her body being encased in rubber, feeling her world getting imprisoned in rubber, losing the sense of touch, losing the sense of air, getting lost into sexy thoughts. No, not horny thoughts. That was for later.

Once her right arm had found the glove, she slipped her left arm through the narrow neck opening, pulling the whole section over her breasts at the same time, the suit sliding on at the same time she was feeding her arm into the tight sleeve, getting the last air pocket out, wrapping tightly her body up to her high neck.

She let out a shaky sigh, smiling ear to ear. Damn! She loved that suit!

She stretched her arms helping the suit take its place, squishing her breasts into the molded cups, teasing her crotch, wrapping her buns, feeling the tightness of the rubber all over her body was a blast!

The little tug at her crotch had her stand on her tiptoes, delicately walking like a porcelain doll. A black, shiny doll. She rubbed her hands against her hips, her waist, up to her breasts, in the long and sultry move to extend her arms and grap the latex hood laying on the table.

She carefully placed it over her face, trying to align the mouth and eye holes the best as she could. The mouth hole was easy, but the eyes were covered by dark lenses.. She pulled the tight and thick zipperless hood over her head. It was a struggle, a tight fit, but that was the way she liked it. Her hair disappeared under the black hood, and the finishing touch was to tuck the long collar under the neck of the suit.

She smoothed the wrinkles, placed it carefully over her face.

She smiled, looking at her reflection in the long wall mirror. That was perfect.. There. She was a rubber doll, from her toes to the tip of her fingers, the only skin showing was around her mouth. For now, that is. She twisted around, turned, lifting a leg like those ballet dancers on jewel boxes, giggling, thinking that if her suit was gold, she could pass for one of those.

She walked to her bed, feeling the latex glide on her enclosed feet, and sat on the black satin comforter, which slid slightly, to reveal that the inside was lined in red latex, as well as that the bedsheets were also made out of bright red shiny rubber.

She picked a boot laying on the bed to her right side, and gently bent to put it on. It was a long leather tube, ending in a pointed tow with a towering heel, forcing her foot into an en-pointe position.

She put them on slowly, feeling her latex covered toes make their way, squishing together, sliding against each other, until they reached the narrow tip of the boot, before she began to close the fine leather, expertly working the lacing.

Then she softly brushed the boot with her rubber covered hand, extending her leg, admiring the reflection of the bedroom lights on her shiny leg, appreciating the view of her long pointy feet.

She lowered her leg, resting on the toes of the boot, feeling the extreme position of her feet, and picked the other one.

Her phone rang.

Puzzled, she stretched her neck to look at it, resting on the bedside table. She rolled her eyes and let it ring. “It’s my day off.” she said, putting the other boot on, back into her thoughts, her pleasure, the feeling of the right rubber wrapping her fingers.

There. Both feet were duly encased in ballet boots. She got up, every gracefully. All those years of ballet training paying off. She never expected that it would come up to that. She was hoping to become a professional ballet dancer, but life had it otherwise. Someone else was chosen and destiny sent her to another lifepath.

Again, she admired her shiny curves in the long wall mirror, standing on one leg, bending the other at the knee, taking that oh so frequent instagram pose that has now become mundane because copied too many times.

She gracefully walked to her dresser, the tight latex creating a single crease under her firm buttocks as she walked. She could feel it. She liked it. Damn. She was already horny.

She opened the second drawer to retrieve a long and rigid rubber garment: a corset. She wrapped it around her waist and linked the front busks, and began to slowly pull on the lacing, feeling it gradually becoming tighter, gradually restricting her body movements, gradually restricting her breathing. 

It was covering her from under her breasts to her hips, the front being cut in a way that it ran under her breasts, lifting them up, making them appear even larger, firmier.

Her breath was shaking as she was pulling on the lacing, slowly crushing her waist. She was hot. She just liked it. The feeling of restriction, of restraint, of bondage, all at the same time.

That was about the tightest she could go. For now, that is, because there was still a 2 to 3cm gap to close, and she needed it to be fully closed.

She walked around her apartment, walking to the kitchen to take a nice bottle of wine and uncorking it, pouring herself a fine glass and taking a sip.

She heard her phone ring again. She casually walked back to her bedroom, rocking her hips, feeling the tight corset swing with it, and holding her glass of wine.

“Ah, come on! Can’t you run that thing without me around?”

She walked to the window, slowly moving her legs, as if she was floating, and slightly opened the drapes, looking down from her second floor room, down in the street.

She saw people walk, some standing nearby, waiting, probably  having a smoke outside the small diner-like restaurant downstairs. It was mid day and the sun was shining.

She felt the hot rays contact her black latex skin and warm it. She closed her eyes. “Ah, if only…” she whispered.

Notification sound. She looked at her phone. Again.

“Yes, just leave a message. That’s the way to do it.” she said, putting her glass of wine down and going to her closet, retrieving steel cuffs. She put a bunch of them on the bed and thanks to the still not fully tied corset, she was able to bend down and snapped a steel cuff on each boot, then taking small padlocks, she put one through the locking hole of the first cuff. She waited a few seconds, looking at her phone, smiled and pushed the looc closed. “There.” she said. “No way for me to go in, now.”

She snapped tight the other cuff, making sure she wouldn’t be able to take off her boots, and resumed tightening the corset, finishing by wrapping the loops of the lacing around each side of a door knob, then walking away, pulling the corset shut.

Satisfied, she quickly knotted the laces, then slowly ran her latex fingers along the latex corset, feeling its tightness. She tried to take one long breath, but… nope. The restriction was complete.

She added more steel cuffs around her wrists, then went again to her closet to retrieve a steel belt with a crotch strap, and to her dresser to get a large dildo and an equally large buttplug.

She opened the crotch zipper of the suit, to reveal a red latex liner equipped with two rubber pouches. Usine a finger, she put the first pouch inside her vagina, and the other inside her rectuf, them, lubricating the toys, she proceeded to insert them, one by one, millimeter by millimeter, enjoying the stretching, enjoying the fulfilment of the large intruders.

She even played with the dildo a few times, pulling it out, pushing it in, out, in, out ,in, moaning, grunting, licking her lips, and biting her lips.

“Not now, Karen. You’ll spoil the pleasure.” she mumbled to herself as she pushed the dildo fully in, so deep that, if she wasn’t already standing on her toes, she would have had…

She closed the zipper and took the steel belt and wrapped it around her corseted waist. The reason of the corset was obvious: that belt would only fit one size, and that was it

She quickly grabbed the steel crotch strap and pulled it between her legs, pushing it deeply in, pushing the dildo, the buttplug, now without any possibility of release. A last small yank to reach the front of the belt, and the last click was made.

There she was, locked into her chastity belt, fully stuffed.

During this time, she has heard her phone beep quite a few times, from SMS. She didn’t even look at it.

The next to last step was to put a steel collar, sealing her time in full rubber, locking her suit and the hood together. There was no hesitation, no regrets. She pushed the lock closed and, there. She was set.

She knew where the keys were: in a time locked safe. It was an old safe she discovered hidden under the living room floor. It was an old safe, probably dating to the beginning of hte 20th century, and featuring a mechanical time lock. It had proven reliable, yet very imprecise, where a 12 hours timer, could end-up after 10 hours or… 20 hours. She had set-it up for 12 hours. Only time will tell how long she would be stuck in her predicament. Well, she wasn’t exactly stuck in a predicament. It was a well planned, rehearsed… way of life.

The last item she needed to put on was her panel gag. She was putting the harness when the phone rang. Again. Since it was her last time being able to speak before putting the panel gag, she decided to answer.

“Hi Lynda. Listen, It’s my day off. You know what it means, right?” she immediately said while answering.

“Yes, Karen. I know that, but this is an emergency.”

“I’m sure you can deal with it, Lynda, whatever it is.”

“Well… no. Not this time. Harry cut himself badly this morning and had to get to the hospital for stitch this thing up, so we’re stuck with only… Phil, and customers are starting to complain that it’s taking too long and that their meal isn’t what they wanted.

“What? Phil is running the kitchen? What the hell is he doing there? It’s not his work shift.”

“Valery swapped with him. So, please, can you come in?”

“I…” she began to say, catching a glimpse of the tightly enclosed rubber woman in the mirror, “I think I could but… not now, I mean maybe in an hour or so?” she said, trying to buy some time. She had seen someone picking a safe similar to this one on Youtube, but she didn’t knew if she could pull it off herself.

“An hour? Why? Are you in your bath or something?”

“No, but let’s just say that I’m not currently…public material.” answered Karen.

“You’ll be in the kitchen, Karen. Who cares what  you look like… Yes, in a minute Ma’am.” said Lynda. “Hurry up, will ya?”

“Hum… okay. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” said Karen, hanging up, hearing the chaos behind Lynda.

Now what? She tried to take the hood off, but it would be impossible without ripping it off. The same with the boots with the cuffs preventing any removal. Chastity belt? Forget it. It would take a grinder to take that off and all she had was an egg beater.

She walked to the living room and opened the secret compartment. She fondled with the combination lock. Of course, it worked, she had the right one, but the timer prevented any opening. She tried to pry it open with what she had, mainly… a kitchen knife, but only managed to bend or break the blade.

After 10 minutes, she realized that she had two choices. Go as is, or not go.

Considering the situation, the second option was not an option. She had to go.

“Well, someone is in for a shock.” she said, heading for a door at the far end of her kitchen, and taking a narrow staircase downstairs.

In the restaurant, next to the toilets, in a narrow corridor, a door labeled “private” opened on a strange, shiny black and chrome creature, with bubble eyes, a tiny waist and walking on pointed boots, looking confident.

The sudden silence, creeped through the restaurant from the back to the front.

“Oh my…” a woman screamed, covered by “Fucking Shit.”  yelled by a man.

Stunned by the sudden silence and curse words, Lynda turned to see what was all the commotion and exclaimed herself “Holy fucking shit, Karen. What the hell??”

“Told you! It’s my DAY OFF!” said Karen, heading for the kitchen, where a stunned Phil frose in place, almost pouring a full container of olive oil into a salad.

“Phil!! Watch what you’re doing, damn it.” said Karen, pushing Phil away, taking place behind the plates, ovens and burners and immediately looking at the numerous orders and beginning to work.

Soon, heat from all these gas appliances began to work her sweat glands and she could feel the layer of water form between her skin and the latex catsuit, making it slide, glide, rub, exciting her.

Her deeply inserted toys, standing  up and moving constantly from one foot to the other, did nothing less than move them slightly up and down, teasing her more and more. 

Quite a few times, she had to stand still for a few moments, for the hormone rush to calm down. This was no time nor place to orgasm.

The chaos quickly returned and people’s mood changed when plates of food began to flood out, and people were happy. The lunch rush was calming down and she looked forward to going back to her apartment and let it go. Damn! She was so hot. And at the same time, sort of realized that she would probably have to do the dinner rush too since Harry was hurt and couldn’t work for a few days…

Many asked who that was, to which Lynda simply said “Karen”. Some were stunned, others were smiling, and obviously, some were not approving.

“Well, you can’t have more health-code compliant than that with that suit.” would jokingly say Lynda.

Karen was starting to think to come to work like that every day. Why not? After all, Lynda was right: health code inspectors would be happy. Puzzled, but happy.

A couple walked out to the till, the man obviously trying to get a glimpse at the shiny women in the kitchen and the woman too, but not with the same eye as her husband.

“That… thing there. That’s outrageous.”

“Well, that’s Karen.” answered, again, Lynda.

“That’s unacceptable. She should be fired. I want to talk to the owner.” said the woman.

“I’m sor…” began to say Lynda.

“Honey, it’s…” tried to cut-in her husband, but the woman wouldn’t have any of it.

“Shut up, you horny pig. I want to talk to the owner. And I want to be compensated, I want my meal for free. Now!” she said, stomping her foot, staring at Lynda.

“As I was saying, Ma’am,“ calmly answered Lynda, but with her tone going louder, “this is Karen, you know? This place? Karen’s Diner? Rings a bell? That’s Karen. That’s her diner. She’s THE OWNER, she can do whatever the fuck she want, and no, I won’t comp your meal for this.” she said, pointing at Karen.

Karen, who heard the whole ordeal, turned her head around, smiled and waved her black shiny fingers at her.

The husband answered back. The woman… did not.

© monsterp63

January 28, 2021

Note: As soon as I find where this restaurant is, I’ll post it. Promise!.