Sandra & Karen: The Convention

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Sandra & Karen – Convention

The alarm sounded and the announcement was made that the 05:50 ICE train was about to depart Stuttgart to Munich. Sandra rushed to reach it while frantically working her cell phone. Finally, as she was getting on the train, she got an answer.

“Hello?” said a sleepy voice on the other end.

“Phil? Damn it, Phil. Where are you? The train is leaving the station now.”

“Oh… yeah… About that. I’m not going.”

“What? Why? You’ll be there Friday, right?”

“No, I will not. I’m not going. You do that alone. I know you can do it, Sandra.”

“What? No, I can’t. I… I never gave a presentation. I don’t know what to do.” said the short blond haired woman while getting a seat, suddenly shaking and sweating. “I’m not the right person for that.” she said.

“Derek told me you will be fine. The presentation files are on the server. You just have to download them and read them a few times.”

“Derek? He’s aware of it?”

“Yes, I told him… last evening. Anyways, I’m going back to sleep now. Bye.”

Sandra hung up and grunted, but with her tiny girly voice, it sounded more like a kitten screaming.

“You’ll pay for that, Phil.” she mumbled between her teeth. On that, her phone rang. This time, it was Derek. She answered without any protocole.

“Derek!! What the hell is that all about? She asked, right off the start. She was fuming.

About three hours later, she was entering the hotel / convention center of Munich, her suitcase trailing behind her. She walked to the registration desk. She had just enough time to check-in, go to her room and refresh a little before attending the first convention of the day.

After registering, as she turned around still pissed off by the whole ordeal, she bumped into another woman.

“Oh. I’m really sorry.” quickly said Sandra. “My mind was wandering somewhere else.”

“It’s alright, miss.” answered a rather tall woman, standing taller on high heel shoes. “Wait… Sandra?”

Sandra looked up from her small stature and frowned.

“Karen?”

The woman smiled and made a yes nod.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been such a long time!!” said Sandra, embracing Karen, who did the same.

“Yeah,” said Karen, “ten years or so. I went back to Stuttgart quite many times, but never had the time to get in touch with any of you.”

“Mom will freak out when I tell her I met you here! What are you doing here anyway? Didn’t you move to Berlin when you left Stuttgart?”

“Yes, and I still live there… when I’m not somewhere else. I manage conventions, so I travel from city to city. What are you here for?”

“I’m here for the Next Millennium Communication Symposium. You?”

“I’m organizing something else. It’s…”

“Hey, Karen. You better come here.” said a man, waving at them.

“Sorry, I have to leave now. How about we meet for a drink? 19:00 at the bar, is it alright with you?.”

“Great! I’ll be there.” said Sandra, suddenly happy again, looking at that long lost family acquaintance.

She assisted at the first conference, wondering what the hell she was doing there. She was just an administrative assistant. That was Phil’s job and responsibilities to figure out if what they were saying was relevant to their logistic business. She could somewhat tell, but she didn’t know what to look for, what would trigger something good or bad. She tried the best she could.

By the end of the day, she was bored to death and was looking forward to having a drink with Karen.

She kept her business suit, a short dress, jacket and flat shoes. She met Karen wearing tight pants and high heels, and they headed for the hotel’s bar.

They sat and ordered some wine and engaged in a long conversation about where each-other’s been.

About half an hour later, two police officers entered. They looked around and immediately walked to Karen and Sandra’s table.

“I’m sorry, misses, but we have reason to believe that one of you is under age to be in a bar.” they said, staring at Sandra.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” said Sandra, reaching for her purse and producing her driver’s license.

“I’m sorry, miss, we’ll have to verify that. Please stand up.” said an officer grabbing his handcuffs.

“You’re joking, right?” said Sandra. “Are you in that prank?” she asked Karen.

“What? No. I would never prank you like that.” said Karen.

“Please stand up,” said the other officer, grabbing Sandra’s shoulder.

Reluctantly, Sandra turned around and put her hands on her back, then she felt the cold steel getting wrapped around her wrists and tightened. The clicking sounds of the handcuffs adding to the feeling.

“Why is that for?” she asked, nervously. “I’m 23! It’s right there on my license.”

“Yeah.” said an officer, looking at the card from all angles. “We’ve been tipped that you were underage and using a false card. We’re going to check it out. In the meantime, just stay put.” he said, leaving Karen with the other officer, a woman.

Sandra let herself drop on the chair, impaired by her wrists linked in her back. She felt the pull of the steel on her wrists and heard the hard steel clunk with the wooden backrest of the chair. It sent her shivers. Weird feelings. She slowly wiggled her hand in them, feeling even more stuck. She was nervous. Things were getting way out of control. First Phil not coming, leaving her alone with all those responsibilities, then this, getting arrested.

The male officer called the woman officer on the radio and asked her to bring Sandra to the patrol car. She was grabbed by the upper arm and held firmly, slightly pulling on her arms. She felt the cuffs bit on her wrists as she walked in shame, following hte officer, wondering what would happen, how she could get out of it.

Karen was stunned. She tried to intervene but was told to mind her own business or she would be arrested too.

Sandra was sitting in the squad car while the male officer was arguing on the phone with whoever was at the other end.

“If you call again, I will have YOU arrested for false accusation. This is your last warning.”

Finally, the officer hung up and turned to Sandra.

“I’m really sorry, miss Sandra. This is all a misunderstanding.” he said, giving her driver’s license back while the woman removed the cuffs, leaving Sandra to walk back into the bar, under the strong stares of the customers. She sat, red faced, at Karen’s table.

“You alright?” asked Karen.

“Yeah.” said Sandra, raising her hand to attract the attention of the waitress. “Get me a whole bottle of Asbach Uralt!”

Karen giggled. “Going hard… And there’s a woman sitting behind you that seemed to have been arguing with a police officer, who looks pissed off.”

“Oh, really?” said Sandra, pouring herself a glass of brandy. She turned around, spotted the woman staring at her and raised her glass. “Prost!!… Bitch!”

The woman turned red and quickly ran off the bar. Some even applauded.

“Apparently, she has a reputation… So where were we. Ah, yes, so no boyfriend yet?” said Karen.

“Err…. no.” said Sandra, like daydreaming, gently rubbing her wrists.

“What’s wrong? Those cuffs were too tight? These could hurt really bad if too tight.” said Karen.

“No, they weren’t too tight… it’s… weird. I don’t know how to explain it, but when I was handcuffed, I felt… weird. Like out of control. And the steel of those cuffs on my skin was… I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Getting arrested, even if it’s by mistake, is always a traumatic experience.” said Karen.

“No, it’s not that, it’s… different… Almost as if… Ah, forget it, it’s silly.” said Sandra.

“No, go ahead.” said Karen, leaning forward, getting really interested, a weird smile on her face. “What was it like?”

Sandra took a large gulp of brandy, grinned as it ran down her throat and took a deep breath.

“It was as if I… I… Liked it.” she almost whispered. “No, forget it. That’s nuts.” she added, pouring herself another glass.

Karen smiled.

“There’s nothing wrong. You’re just one of u…”

“I’m just a weirdo. Who likes being arrested? Yeah, me. Who likes being put in handcuffs? Apparently I do.” she said, getting louder and louder.

Karen looked around. Some people were puzzled, others were smiling.

“Geesh, you already gulped half the bottle.” said Karen, taking the bottle away from Sandra. “You should stop. Come, I’ll walk you to your room.” she said, getting up, putting the bottle on the tray of the waitress who happened to walk by and dragged Sandra, who was apparently already getting drunk, out of the lounge.

They reached Sandra’s room. She entered, stumbling and let herself drop on the bed, then she pulled her hands on her back.

“That was so good.” she said, the alcohol inhibiting her desires. “Geeesh, I almost wish I got arrested and spent the night in prison, handcuffed.” she said, rocking her hips up and down.

“That could be arranged.” said Karen, opening her purse and getting a coil of rope.

“Why the hell do you carry rope in your purse?” asked a puzzled Sandra.

“For just a case like this,” said Karen, smiling. “Come on, get your clothes off. I’ll tie you up.” she said.

Sandra, suddenly surrendering to her desires, or was it the booze, removed her clothes, keeping her underwear.

“Come on, police Karen, arrest me.” she said, giggling.

Karen turned Sandra on her stomach and brought her wrists together on her back. Well, she didn’t have to work that hard for it, Sandra did it herself. She wrapped many coils of rope around her wrists, tying them tightly. She then wrapped another coil of rope around her ankles. Sandra was gently squirming on the bed, evidently enjoying it. Karen then grabbed Sandra’s elbows and smiled. Taking the last piece of rope she had, she wrapped Sandra’s elbows together, making them touch, locking her arms in place.

“Oh… This feels so good. I almost wish my legs were tied tighter… like at the knees or something… Shit…” she said, laughing a drunken laugh. “What the hell am I talking about? It’s almost like I’m one of those bondage weirdos. She said.”

“I think that’s enough for a first time.” said Karen as her phone rang. “Hello?… Oh, hi Andy… I’ll be right there.” she said hanging up, then looked at Sandra. “I’d be gone about half an hour. You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, whatever… I like it here.” she said, as she was almost snoring, laying on her side.

Karen left, grabbing Sandra’s room keys in the process, leaving her alone.

She moaned as she slowly squirmed in her bonds. She giggled. Was that real? How could she… liked it? How could she like being tied up, restrained, out of control.

She eventually fell asleep. A strange sleep, filled with dreams of images she saw on the Internet, of people tied up, wearing those shiny catsuits, held with steel restraints, or leather cuffs, attached to devices, walls, or suspended in mid-air.

She was hot. She rolled on her stomach and began to gently wiggle her hips. Damn, she wished there was something to prevent her knees from opening.

She half-woke up, at first, panicking as she couldn’t move her arms, which fully awoke her.

“What the hell… Where am I?” she asked herself, as she looked around, realizing she was in her hotel room, but… tied up?

“Hello?” Anybody here? Karen? Where are you?” she asked.

No answer. No noise. She was all alone, all tied up.

She tried to sit. That was one heck of a struggle with her arms elbow-tied. Finally, she was sitting. She tried to get up, only to fall back on the bed. Realizing that, even if she could stand up, she would never be able to walk to the door, or pick up the phone to call for help, she let herself drop on her back, her arms pushing her hips upward. She moaned. She actually liked it. Sure, some alcohol was still running through her veins, but she was almost sober by now. She rolled on her stomach, her mind wandering as her crotch was on fire.

She suddenly felt something getting on the bed. She stopped and turned to her side to see Karen, sitting on the corner, smiling.

“Sorry, it took longer than expected.” she said.

“What took longer? And why am I… tied up?” asked Sandra.

“Well, you did ask for it… Right, you were too drunk to remember, but you seem to enjoy it, don’t you? I brought the rope you asked for. Still want me to wrap your knees?” asked Karen, producing the coil of rope.

“I… W… What?”

“You wished that your knees would be tied together so that your legs would be stiffer.” she said with a devilish smile. “But… you were drunk. I better take you out of it.” said Karen reaching for the ankle rope. As she began to loosen the knot, Sandra pulled her legs toward herself.

“No, wait…”

Karen looked at her, waiting.

“I… I wonder how it would… feel to…” she began to say, trailing off.

Karen smiled and gently began to wrap a rope around Sandra’s knees. Her breath began to shake. With a devilish smile, as she tightened the knot, Karen took another length of rope and began to wrap it around Sandra’s waist, then, after making a few large knots, passed the rope between her legs reaching the back, then going back in front, pulling hard, forcing the knots she made on the rope up her crotch.

Sandra moaned. She was reluctant, yet eager to… live the experience.

“What have you put in my drink?” asked Sandra.

“Nothing.” giggled Karen. “If there was something, it’s something you put it.” she said as she yanked the rope one last time, making it bite in Sandra’s crotch, before tying the knot. “There. All set for the night?”

“W…N… The night? What are you talking about?”

“Well, it’s past midnight and I need to hit the bed myself. I have work tomorrow.”

“But… I… How…”

“I’ll release you tomorrow by 06:30, Deal?”

Sandra simply stared at Karen, mouth agape, her brain fighting between being realistic and going bold.

“I take that as a yes. Good night.” said Karen, showing Sandra that she was keeping her key card, and leavin, turning the light off in the process, before Sandra’s brain could react.

Now, there she was, alone, in the dark, all tied up. She let herself drop on the bed, raising her crotch and that’s when she felt it. The crotch rope, playing at her crotch. The more she moved, the more the knots teased her. Now, she couldn’t open her thighs at all. All she could do was rock her hips up and down, which aroused her, teased her, even edged her, but never reaching the orgasm.

Finally, exhaustion got the best of her and she fell asleep. She was awakened by Karen, entering the room.

“Hello there. How was your night?”

Sandra grumbled and twisted in her bonds.

“Frustrating. Got it. Liked it?” said Karen, smiling.

Sandra didn’t answer. She was clean sober now and her thoughts were all messed up. What the hell was going on? What was she thinking? And… why?

Karen untied her, not adding a word, and put the key card on the desk.

“We’ll probably bump into each other for the next few days, so… see you later.?” asked Karen.

“Yeah… probably,” said Sandra.

“Don’t worry, Sandra. Your brain will sort it out in time.” said Karen, smiling, walking out.

“Sort what?” asked Sandra, but Karen was gone.

As she stood in the shower, with the running water, she was gently rubbing the rope marks left on her wrists and elbows, feeling the indentation left by the rope and… liking it. She remembered the feelings, the sensations of being tied up, unable to move. Feeling the rope bit into her skin, preventing any movement. She recalled how helpless she felt when Karen left her alone. She knew she was unable to do anything else than lay on the bed. She was at Karen’s  mercy or whoever else would be entering the room. She was defenseless.

Her hand reached her crotch, hot and sensitive, and as she began to play with it, the phone ringing snapped her out of it.

“Fuck” she said, quickly stopping the shower and rushing to answer, too late. A message was left. It was from Derek. She called back and her mind switched to the job at hand, and her nervousness returned.

She spent the day going from one talk to the other, gathering information that might be useful, keeping Derek informed, updating the presentation accordingly.

Early after lunch, the presenter was boring and she found her thoughts wandering away. She imagined herself with her arms secured in her back, secured to the backrest of her seat, even a wide collar circling her neck, forcing her head up, her legs tightly cinched together, also linked to the chair, unable to move, forced to listen to that boring presenter. She became hot. She liked it. She could almost feel the rope around her crotch, pulling her tightly against the seat, biting in her crotch. She loved it. She moaned of pleasure, gently squirming.

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder and suddenly, her bondage disappeared and she was back in the present room, the woman sitting to her left looking at her with a strange smile.

“I’m sorry miss, but  you are… well… I would say snoring but it looked more like you were having an erotic dream.” she said. “Better keep it down.” she whispered.

Sandra blushed and as she wanted to move, realized that her arms were in her back and she was sitting on them.

“Oh… I’m sorry…”

“No problem. He’s boring as hell anyways and I would gladly sleep through his presentation myself.” said the woman.

“Yes… thanks.” said Sandra, feeling her face red and hot.

She was awake now. Too awake. What the hell just happened?

She retired to her room in mid-afternoon to clean her thoughts out, and to prepare her turn to do the talk, to represent her company, which was the first talk of Friday morning, revising the company presentation while trying to erase those strange thoughts from her brain..

She looked at the time.

“Fuck. I need a drink” she said as she realized it was pretty much dinner time. She went downstairs, heading for the hotel’s restaurant, and froze.

Right there, checking in, walking around, coming back and forth, people, lots of them… in latex, and leather, high heels, corseted, even wearing those extreme pointed boots. Some had their heads free, others were fully covered in latex. Some were even pulled along with leashes, hands bounds, a hobble chain impairing their walk. One man, heavily chained like a trade slave, was pushing a luggage cart where two women in cages, held by more restraints, following a woman fully dressed in tight leather, leading the way, looking up. Just her stature, just her stare was making people move her off her way. Even some staff of the hotel were in, let’s say, non-standard uniforms.

“What the fuck…” she mouthed, asking herself if she had fell off her chair and was hallucinating. She stood there, those people going around her as if she was a structural column. She turned around to head for the restaurant, half looking. She bumped into someone, short as she was, her face buried into her latex covered breasts.

“Oh, shoot. I’m really sorr… K… Karen?” she asked, eyes wide, staring at this tall woman, her body encased into a tight fitting black latex second skin as shiny as a mirror, waist crushed by a red leather corset, and standing on thigh high red leather boots.

“Oh, hello Sandra. What are you doing here?”

“I think I should ask you the same question and… what about this?” said Sandra, gesturing top to bottom at Karen, sporting the full latex catsuit, corset, and high heel boots.

“I told you, I’m an event organizer. I’m in charge of the FetishFestival. I have to blend in.” she said, brushing her shiny and sleek suit with her hands as if to remove imaginary wrinkles, because, tight as it was, there wasn’t the tiniest of them. “Now, your turn to answer.”

“I… I was going for dinner.” she said, vaguely pointing toward the restaurant.

“It’s pretty much all booked by us, I’m afraid, but I can check if there’s room for a table for one.”

Sandra followed Karen to the restaurant. She asked the hostess.

“I may have one place, if you don’t mind sitting with someone… in latex.” she said, glancing back and forth between Karen and Sandra.

“And who would that be?” inquired Karen.

“Err… You. It’s your table, Miss Karen. You’re actually 15 minutes late, so… I can give it totally to her if you don’t mind.”

“My table? What time is it… Oh my. Yes. I’ll take it. If I don’t eat now, I won’t be able to grab a bite before the end of the evening. Yes, thank you.”

They sat. All around them were people in latex and leather, spandex, PVC. The smell, the noise, the sight were all disturbing. And having Karen, that long lost friend, sitting in front of her, the dimmed lights of the restaurant shining over her latex skin, as she was eating with her attached gloves on, gently sucking the food off her covered fingers was… disturbing. And it showed.

“Listen,” began Karen, “if all of this sight is too disturbing, you can have it delivered to your room, you know.” she said, smiling. “Not everybody is okay with it and it’s perfectly alright.”

“Yes… I mean no. I don’t want to go to my room. Yes, that’s disturbing and… Can… Can I tell you something personal, something weird that happened to me today?”

Karen opened her arms, looking at her own outfit.

“What makes you think I would mind?”

“Uh… right.” said Sandra as she recalled what happened in the conference room, how she imagined herself being tied up, how she felt.”

“I think you should come to the festival. I’ll get you a free pass.” said Karen.

“But… I can’t go in dressed like that. All I have is business attire. I don’t have anything remotely looking like that.” said Sandra, pointing at Karen’s shiny latex arm.

“Hey, vanilla dressed people are welcome and there’s many of them here. But if you absolutely wear something less formal, I noticed that there are some faux-leather leggings at the boutique just across the street.” said Karen.

“Ah… yes. I… I guess.” said Sandra.

The rest of the meal was somewhat odd, the conversation slim as Sandra was either not listening or lost in her thoughts when she was talking, mostly looking at Karen’s shiny suit, how the lights were reflecting off her arms, her chest, how constricted her corset appeared, and then, all around them, those people in latex, leather, some chained, bonded to their dining table, even that man, totally sealed in rubber, blindfolded, gagged, sitting totally still like a statue across his girlfriend or mistress, the only one who was eating, almost staring at him while she was eating, watching him in his immobility.

“This one is weird. He hasn’t moved since they got seated.” said Sandra, “while nothing holds him, I mean, he’s not even wearing cuffs, just his catsuit and that woman just stares at him.”

“That’s Mistress Alicia with her slave. He was ordered to stand still. If he moves, he’s going to get punished. Told you. There’s for every taste here. Come. I’m sure that, after what you just told me, you’ll find something interesting.

Karen’s phone rang and she had to leave, taking the check for both of them.

“If you come, just go by the entrance, show some ID and tell them that Karen left you a pass and they’ll give it to you.”

Sandra finished her meal, looking around, watching latex, leather, spandex clad people come in and out. They all seem so just… happy.

She crossed the street, came back and changed to the faux-leather jeans and sexy fishnet faux-leather and straps top. She was very self-conscious of her appearance, although people around her didn’t seem to give a damn. There was some sort of shouting match near a rest area, someone shouting “I knew it! You’re Pete! Holy shit! I can’t believe it!…” (1), which even made a few turn their heads and walk to them, apparently in awe. She presented herself at the convention’s entrance. She was given the pass and she went in.

This was some sort of exposition hall, with booths of different suppliers of goods and services, from photography to rigging, from simple rope suppliers to elaborate steel rigs, and from gloves to full outfits.

Most women were in high heels, although some had only gothic styled boots, or plain sneakers, and to her surprise, quite many men were in high heels too.

She was browsing a boutique, looking at some shoes when someone leaned against her. She looked and it was Karen, smiling.

“Looking for heels? Why not? It would give you a boost in height for sure.” she said with a wink.

“I… I don’t know.” said Sandra.

“Hey, Carrie.” said Karen, looking at the owner of the shop. “Do you have some loaners she could wear for the evening?”

“Oh, I don’t have a lot of… wait. For her shoe size, I sure do. Wait here.” she said, disappearing behind the curtain to come back with a box. “Here. These should fit you perfectly. Just sit down and try them.” she said, welcoming another customer and leaving Sandra with Karen.

Hands shaking, Sandra opened the box to find gray suede webbed platform sandals.

“Those are gorgeous!” said Karen. “Put them on!”

Sandra complied, sliding her feet into those strappy sandals, her foot taking an arch position she was not accustomed to. 

“Say, Karen, who’s… Pete?”

“Geesh. I don’t know. There’s a lot of Petes. Why?

“There was this woman at the entrance, pointing to some guy in latex and high heels, saying over and over, something like ‘oh my gosh, you’re Pete. I can’t believe it!’ and she seemed to be asking about you, asking where you were.”

“Me? You’re sure?”

“Well, she kept asking about Karen. I thought it was  you.”

“I don’t know… no, wait! Pete? And Karen? You’re shitting me? He’s here? Pete, THE Pete is here?”

“Who the fuck is PETE?” asked Sandra, again, fastening the first shoe.

“Did someone say that Pete was here?” someone passing by asked, stopping dead on his track.

“Apparently. I do have to find him.” answered Karen.

“Oh my gosh! Pete is here! Where is he?” she said.

A man nearby chipped in.

“Which Pete… Oh. Really? Where? What does he look like? What does he wear?, he said, walking away, looking everywhere.

Karen turned to Sandra “He’s a writer of fetish stories and his main character is named Karen. I like to think I’m his inspiration… Oh gosh! I have to meet him.” (2) she said, almost dancing in place, looking around.

Sandra shigh, didn’t understand all the commotion about some author and fastened the last shoe. She grabbed a hold of the bench she was sitting on to raise herself up, quite unsteadily, and she took her first tentative steps in high heels.

“Oh my! You’re doing good. Come on, walk to the bench over there and back.” said Karen.

Sandra did, walking slowly at first but becoming steadier rather fast.

“Geesh.” she said. “I never thought it would be that… easy.” she said, then looking around. “So… This is what the world looks like when you’re tall.” she said with a smile, looking at Karen who was still a good head taller than her.

Those shoes gave Sandra a step up with her confidence. She was feeling less out of place, although it really didn’t matter. She followed Karen to some booth, checking some stuff, but Karen was mostly stopped by fellow fetishists, asking about the different events, fixing a problem with one booth owner. At one point, they got seperated and Sandra didn’t mind. She could browse by  herself.

She stopped by the entrance of a booth where a woman in full spandex was getting released from some kind of X Frame that could be pivoted, where she could be put standing up or laying down, without her moving a muscle.

She wondered  how it would feel to be tied up like that… during a conference… or better yet, giving a presentation firmly held on a frame like that. She bit her lower lip. The thought was disturbing and arousing.

“You want to try it?”

Sandra startled.

“Oh… There you are… I… N… Don’t know…Maybe… Not sure…”

“Oh, come on.” said Karen. “You don’t like it, you’re out , that’s all. Is the place free for a newbie?, Inger?” 

“Absolutely, Karen. What’s your name?” she asked, looking at Sandra.

“Sa… Sandra.” she nervously answered.

“Okay, it’s simple.” said Inger while adding leather cuffs tightly fastened around her ankles and wrists, then gently placing her on the frame which was vertical at the moment, stretching her arms wide and opening her legs.

She added a large belt around Sandra’s waist, securing her to the cross and stepped back.

“There, how does it feel?” asked Inger.

Sandra slowly squirmed, feeling her bonds. She liked it. She fought but was not pulling too much, afraid to break it, to break the feeling.

“It’s her first time. I think she needs help figuring it out.” said Karen.

“Oh… easy then.” said Inger approaching Sandra with a devilish smile, getting her hands on each side of her chest and… tickling her.

Sandra immediately squirmed badly, easily reaching the limits of the setup, and trying as she might, she was unable to get away, unable to prevent it. She couldn’t grab Inger’s hands to pull them away. She couldn’t use her feet to push her away, she couldn’t move her body away from Inger’s apparently expert hands at tickling.

Sandra was screaming and giggling, telling to stop, which attracted some curious to see what the commotion was all about.

“She’s way too loud. Let me fix that.” said a man from another booth.

He made his way through the crowd holding a piece of leather in his hand. He approached Sandra who was looking at him with wide eyes and her mouth wide opened in awe. She had no control about what was going on. She was totally freaking out.

The man raised his hand, showing some kind of leather harness with a leather pad where a  huge red rubber ball was attached.

Without asking, he put the panel gag in Sandra’s opened mouth while she was screaming, muffling her high pitch screams to the level of a singing bird.

Oh damn! She was having something stuffed in her mouth and she couldn’t do anything about it. She tried to move her head away but he was too strong and within seconds, she was all strapped in. She tried to push it out, but couldn’t and fully realized the extent of her situation. She was trying to fight Inger’s fingers as well as the gag. All her liberties have been taken out of her: liberty of movements, of getting away from things, and the liberty of speaking, of talking of… screaming.

She was feeling the wide leather cuffs tighten around her wrists every time she tried to move them, to grasp Inger’s hands, or to kick her away, but only felt the leather cuffs tighten around her ankles, and the leather strap tugging her waist.

That felt so weird, so good. Could it really be that? Good?

She felt she was about to pass out. That was an overload of sensations. Her eyes began to roll.

“I think she has enough,” said Inger, laughing, easing gradually on the tickling.

Sandra’s breath calmed down and she regained her composure, looking around and seeing all those people staring at her… Why? Did she do something wrong? She spotted Karen and it was evident she was asking what happened with her eyes as her brain suddenly realized she was gagged. Karen only answered by a smile and a discrete “thumbs up” gesture.

Inger left Sandra there for a few moments as the crowd that had gathered slowly dispersed, some staying to ask questions at Inger because, apparently, Sandra demonstrated how sturdy her devices were and wanted to know more.

Karen approached and removed Sandra from the X-Frame. She collapsed on the floor, her legs weak, her brain still a mess.

“That was intense,” said Karen.

Sandra looked up. She would have loved to answer that with a clever remark, but all she could do was moan and grunt.

“Come on, let’s go. You have more to… see,” said Karen, helping Sandra get back on her feet, unsteady on her high heels.

She stopped by Inger. After all, she had to get the cuffs back. She began to remove a wrist cuff when Inger raised her head, surrounded by clients. “You just keep them. Consider it my pay for the sales you brought in” she said. Evidently, her stunt had triggered more sales.

The same at the leather shop for the panel gag. The man waved her off, telling her to keep it as a sponsored gift. But Sandra tried to take it off, stopped by Karen.

“No you don’t. I’m sure you will need it again,” she said, giggling. “Come on. More stuff to see.”

They passed many more booths, offering Dominatrix services, or more bondage goods, some Shibari experts, and many latex clothing booths. On each one, Sandra was drawn by it. She wanted to touch the latex, she wanted to feel it. She would have commented, but, you know, that panel gag thing got in the way.

Finally, Karen seemed to get the message.

“Oh. Would you like to try some?” she asked, evidently teasing. She had figured it out all along.

Sandra nodded a very sharp yes.

“That’s very good, Sandra. You realize that it’s the first time you actually expressed loud and clear that you wanted to try something kinky?”

It dawned on her. Yes, it was. And she was surprised by it. Damn! Still, YES, she wanted to try some latex. Maybe that leotard, or those leggings. But apparently, Karen had something else in mind.

“Hey, Peter. Would you have something here that would fit her petite frame in one of your wonderful neck-entry suits?”

Peter, the owner of Fantastic Rubber, smiled.

“Hello Karen. Is that the girl you talked to me about?” he asked and on Karen’s affirmative nod, he continued. “Yes, I believe I have… Hum…” he said, browsing the racks and picking up a bright red suit with a FR logo on the chest. “Here. That one should do fine. I have a changing booth right over there.” he said pointing to the corner where a rather large booth was visible. “The lube is inside. Use plenty.” he said with almost a devilish smile.

They went in. The booth was large enough for two people to fit in. The owner knew that some people might need help to get the suit on.

“Okay, get naked.” said Karen.

Sandra’s stare was screaming “What???”.

“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’ve never seen a woman’s body before..” answered Karen.

Shaking, she slowly undressed and as Karen was helping her, she felt her latex suit touch her skin. It was weird, and good at the same time. Cold and hot. Karen then took the suit.

“You get into this through the neck opening, so you’re gonna need a lot of lube. Go ahead.” she said, handing the bottle.

Sandra stopped, expecting a punchline or something.

“How do you think I put mine on?” she said, and it dawned on Sandra that there was no access zipper, only probably, a crotch zipper hidden under black latex panties.

She lubed herself and then sat on the little stool provided. Karen stretched the neck and slid it up Sandra’s legs, up to over her knees, then proceeded to gather all the suit up her legs, including the attached feet. It felt strange, feeling this rubber slowly clinging up her legs, sliding against the lube, cold to the touch at first, as if she was more than naked, then it quickly warmed up. She giggled when Karen placed her toes in the individual pockets of the toesocks. Yes, she was ticklish.

The rubber of the legs were pulled up and smoothed at the same time, a feeling Sandra didn’t dislike. She stood up and Karen grabbed the collar and the bulk of the suit from Sandra’s knees and pulled it up, over her hips, over her waist, up to over her breasts, then went back to the legs to pull it gently, removing the wrinkles, if there were any. That suit was tight fitting. Very tight fitting.

Sandra moaned to attract Karen’s attention and rubbed her crotch. There was something there, some lump of rubber as if when a sock finds its way in your jeans.

“Yeah, we’ll get to that later.” said Karen, dismissing Sandra’s complaints, pulling the last slack up the suit. “Okay now, one arm at a time.” she said, stretching the collar again, pulling it under the breasts, much to Sandra’s amazement, and helped her put her arm inside it, and guided it to the sleeve, down to the attached glove. The same process was repeated with the other arm and as soon as that one was in, the collar rode up to her neck, the latex squishing her breasts, the last pockets of air exiting the collar with a funny sound.

Sandra moved her arms and shoulders to get the suit in place, feeling it slide up on her skin, feeling its tightness everywhere, feeling the rubber. She liked it.

She rubbed her arms, admiring the bright red reflections, amazed at her new smooth skin, not a single wrinkle. The touch was weird. She was isolated, yet feeling it. She was feeling the pressure of her finger but not feeling her finger. She could feel there was a warm breeze around her, feeling the heat, but not the air flow.

“Okay, stretch your legs a little.” said Karen as she kneeled to access Sandra’s crotch.

Sandra complied. Karen opened the zipper and Sandra felt fingers… going in.

“The suit has built-in pouches that go into your holes. It will make it easier to… insert toys.” she said with a devilish smile.

Sandra grunted. Toys? She was not about to wear toys. Not in public. Hell, not even in private. Those things were for the sex addicts. However, her grunt changed to moans when Karen pushed the pouches in with her fingers. That feeling wasn’t so bad after all… Then again, they were empty and the ‘feeling’ disappeared when Karen removed her fingers.

Karen closed the zipper, and looked at Sandra, smiling.

“How does it feel?” she asked.

Sandra mumbled under her gag and tried to take it off.

“Well, if you promise not to scream…” said Karen, removing it, a large puddle of saliva drooling from Sandra’s mouth over her shiny red breasts.

“Fuck…… I think I hate gags… As for the suit, well, it feels strange, but comfortable.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Karen. “I’m sure that in time, you’ll love it and won’t want to get out of it. I know, I feel the same.” she said, smiling.

“Is the suit on?” asked Peter from the other side of the door.

“Yes.” said Karen and Sandra together, then giggling. “We’re about to get out.” added Karen.

She opened the door and Peter was there, holding a piece of heavy black rubber in his hands.

“I think this would go well with it.” he said, unrolling the garment. Sandra went wide-eyed.

“A corset? You’re not serious.” she asked, but at the same time, almost wishing that he was serious. Somehow, she was eager to try it. Or maybe not. Like for the rest, her mind wasn’t set but she found all this stuff more and more appealing. “Well… It… It doesn’t hurt to try… I think.”

Karen wrapped the garment around Sandra’s waist and fastened the front busks as Peter began to expertly tighten the back lacing, drawing it tighter and tighter. As the pulls went on, as her waist was crushed again and again, Sandra put her hands on it, amazed at how small it felt.

“Geesh. This is really compressing. I feel just fine now.” she said, trying to get the message through that she had enough.

“Yeah, I should stop here and let some time for her organs to move around. This is a very tight corset but I’m sure you can pull through.” said Peter.

“Why?” she asked, feeling the back of it, feeling a wide gap. “You know, I don’t think there’s any obligation to fully close it.”

“But of course,” said Karen. “A properly fit corset is always closed. But we’ll check on that later. Come, I have to meet someone and I’m already late.” she said, leading the way.

Sandra quickly put her high heels shoes back, and followed and. Karen. She knew where she was going. Sandra did not. Finally, after twisting around the multitude of booths, they ended up at a booth about… chastity devices.

As Karen was chatting with what she supposed to be the owner, Sandra walked around, looking at the different devices, having a devilish smile at some male torture chastity cages and spending a lot of time around the women’s full chastity belt, even grabbing one and trying it before quickly putting it back in place.

“You want to try one?” asked the man.

“Uh? Oh… No… no, I was just curious.” quickly said Sandra, blushing.

“Oh, yes, yes. That would be perfect.” immediately said Karen.

“No… it’s not necessary,” quickly added Sandra.

“No pressure, then,” said the man.

Karen whispered something to the man’s ear.

“Oh, really? Well, let’s go for it then.” he said, heading for a wall where very high-end belts were suspended. He took a silvery one with small chains and… huge toys. “This one would be perfect.” he said, handing it to Sandra.

“What… No. I… Holy fuck… have you seen the size of these…. No. No, no, no.” she said, nodding no, blushing red, backing off and looking at Karen.

“Come on, Sandra. I know you want to try it,” said Karen, “It’s my treat.” she added with a low sultry voice.

“I… I can’t….”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Karen. “What size is it?” she asked the owner.

The owner told the sizing. Karen frowned and borrowed his tape measure and wrapped it around Sandra’s waist who was standing still, shocked.

“That’s what I thought. We’ll have to get that corset closed first.” she said, taking the lacing and pulling hard on them, surprising Sandra who was somewhat day dreaming.

“Oooff… That’s too tight.” said Sandra.

“Come on. I don’t even pull hard. It’s coming along niiiiic…cely.” she said as she gave a strong pull, putting her knee up Sandra’s lower back to hold her still.

Sandra’s eyes bulged out as Karen tied up the lacing.

“There, all set. Hand me that, please, Brian.” said Karen to the owner.

Sandra was too stunned to react. Karen opened the zipper then wrapped the waist steel band around Sandra’s tiny waist and struggled to meet the ends.

“Ah. Too bad. It’s too small.” said Sandra.

“No, it’s just the… right… fit.” said Karen, snapping it in place. “There. Now the crotch strap. Say hello to your new toys.” she said.

“I don’t think…” began to say Sandra but as the toys were inserted into their latex pouches, she bit her lips and closed her eyes.

She felt the intruders get pushed in, easily gliding on the lubed rubber, taking their place. The buttplug was the hardest, having never put anything there before.

Before she could change her mind, Karen quickly pulled the crotch strap tight, making her yelp and locked it.

“There.” she said, smiling. “How is it?”

“Disturbing.” said Sandra, slightly moving, almost afraid she would break something or rather, she would hurt herself.

“Come on. Walk.” said Karen.

Sandra complied, one step, then another, blushing, putting her hand at her crotch but feeling only the cold steel locking her fingers away. She closed her eyes.

“Oh my gosh… What have you done to me? I… I can’t go on like that.” she said.

“Sure you can,” said Karen, then turning to Brian. “I’ll get it back by the end of the day.”

“No problem, Karen. Exposure is always good.That being said, it would be better looking with a matching set of steel cuffs” he said with a wink.

“Oh! Absolutely!! Quick, take those leather cuffs off, Karen. We’ll pick them up later. They are GORGEOUS, Brian.” said Karen as he applied the shiny steel cuffs around Karen’s wrist and ankles, as well as a steel collar.

“They’re heavy.” said Sandra, weighing them by flexing her arms.

“That’s one of the pluses of those cuffs. You can’t forget you’re wearing them.” said Brian.

“And… Can I have the keys?” softly asked Sandra, playing with the cuffs on her wrists.

“Oh, these use no keys. It’s a code you punch on those four little boxes here.”

“Only four numbers? That will be easy to decode. After all, it’s only… hum…  24 possible permutations.” said Sandra.

“Technically, yes. But those cuffs are aimed at the self-bondage enthusiasts. The code resets itself automatically every time they’re locked. So, your four cuffs have four different combinations.”

“Oh…” said Sandra, trailing off.

“And there’s an emergency out, using this pin.” he said, holding a steel pin in his hand and ceremoniously giving it to Karen.

 “I’ll take good care of it. Now, come on, Sandra. You can do it.” said Karen, giggling at Sandra’s small steps, getting to learn how to cope with that steel band circling her crotch and especially the huge toys inside her, moving. Well, not exactly. They were rigid. Her inside was moving around them.

She followed Karen, face red, putting a hand at her crotch quite often, not really looking where she was going, bumping into people, which was not helping. When she finally raised her head, they had stopped into a hood and mask shop as Karen was going through some paperwork with the owner. She was amazed how Karen was somewhat oblivious to the fact that she was wearing a very shiny black latex catsuit and that her figure was attracting a lot of attention. Or she liked it. Sandra wasn’t and at some point felt she wanted to hide and those hoods would be perfect for that.

While Karen was occupied, she browsed around, looking at the different hoods, from simple molded latex to more extensive ones, multi-layers with all sorts of attached devices, some looking more devilish than the other or was that… erotic?

She seemed especially fascinated by a black hood with two strands of red hair protruding from the top of it.

“Looking for something in particular?” asked the owner, startling Sandra who was lost in her thoughts.

“Uh?? Oh… No… Well, not that one… I mean… I never wore one before so… something a little more simple would do.” she said blushing again.

“That would hide your red face for sure,” said Karen, giggling.

“You two know each other?” asked the owner.

“Yes, Miss Kinky. She’s an old friend of mine and, well, she’s discovering her fetishes tonight, apparently.” she said with a wink addressed to Sandra, “ and she has… ahem… problems containing her… emotions.” she said, still giggling.

“Well, you’re a very lucky girl to be shown around by Karen. Now, let’s see what we’ve got here. Let me take a few measurements first.” she said, using a flexible measuring tape then going to the rack for the simple hoods. “Usually all my hoods are made to measure, but I may have something in stock, but… it seems I don’t have anything in your size in those.” she said, going to her tablet and punching a few menus. “As a matter of fact, the only one I have left in your size is that demo.” she said, pointing to the one with the twin ponytails. “I’ll give it to you at a special price since it’s my last one.” she said.

“Oh… Of course… Oh shit!” she said frantically looking around. “I left my purse at that catsuit shop, along with my clothes. I have to go back.” she said.

“Hold on,” said Karen, picking her phone. “Peter? It’s Karen. Did… Ah  yes… Very well. Thank you, Peter.” She turned to Sandra “He gave them to Security. We’ll get them on our way out. Just put it on my tab, MissKinky.” said Karen, turning to the owner.

“I’ll pay you back.” quickly said Sandra.

“I’m sure you will.” said Karen. “We’ll… we’ll work out an arrangement.” she said with a devilish smile Sandra didn’t catched as she was already putting the hood on, eager to hide her face.

Karen helped her by lacing up the hood, very tightly, tugging in under the steel collar and she even managed to tuck it under the suit’s collar.

“There. All set.” said Karen. As she fondled one last time at the back and Sandra heard a very faint click.

Sandra reached for the back of her neck.

“You locked it on?” she asked, stunned.

“And for the gag and blindfold?” asked MissKinkyLatex.

“G… No. No gag.” quickly said Sandra, turning to Karen. “You really locked the hood on?”

“No big deal, everything else is locked on.” said Karen, quickly getting closer to the woman, whispering something. Miss Kinky then gave her an envelope while looking at Sandra with a knowing smile.

“Come on, Sandra. More places to visit.” said Karen, leading the way out of the booth.

Sandra followed, suddenly in her own world. The thick latex covering her ears was isolating her. She felt like someone watching through a monitor, in extra-high definition. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, even the blood flow getting through her head, passing her neck through the tight hood and the steel collar, resonating in her head. She felt as if she was dreaming.

They stopped by a couple of other booths, spandex, more straps and cuffs, sex toys, latex of course, even by a booth, closed, with a logo similar to her company, but with the letters DK Logistics instead of Derek Logistics, which she found weird and took a mental note to question her boss about it, that someone seemed to copy their company, and finally, another shoe booth, but this one was extreme. Ballet boots. Nothing but ballet boots. Some with wedge soles, some classic and even some without any heels at all. Leather, latex, canvas and even… steel? Damn. That would be extreme: knee-high steel ballet boots.

“You have ballet dancing training, right?” she heard someone say. She turned around to face Karen, holding a pair of booties.

“Yes, but no. I can’t walk in those. Really.”

“Just try them on,” said Karen.

Reluctantly, Sandra sat down. By this time, she felt that everything she was doing was out of her control and she felt she had to follow. Karen was in charge now.

Sitting down on the little bench proved to be difficult. First the corset locking her waist and the chastity belt, or rather the toys. It took her a few attempts, each time wiggling in her corset and belt to move some things around before trying another time. Finally, she was sitting, the crotch strap resting on the bench, pushing the toys deeper. She muffled a moan, but although her face was now hidden, her eyes were talking. A lot.

Karen was looking at her as if she knew what was going on in her head. Well, everything was going on in her head. The tight latex wrapping her body,  how she felt the sweat slowly building under it, how it glided on her skin with every movement, how she could feel the heat, the breezes, but not the actual air, then the corset crushing her waist, forcing her to take short breaths, the hood isolating gher further from the outside world, and finally, the chastity belt, the cold steel holding toys in place, toys that were keeping her preoccupied. And now, she was being fitted with ballet boots. Beautiful black kid leather booties.

Karen tied the knot of the last bootie and offered a hand.

“Here. Grab my hand. Stand up… Slowly… That’s it.” said Karen as the saleslady was holding Sandra’s other arm.

Slowly, she got up, finding her balance. Yes she had ballet dancing training but it was years ago. She made one step, then another, realizing that these boots offered more support than her flimsy ballet slippers. One step. Another one. Without knowing, she had let go of her two helpers and was walking alone, looking down at her pointed feet, admiring the reflection of the shop lights on her shiny red catsuit. 

She was smiling. And more, it seemed to lessen the effects of her toys. Or she was getting accustomed to them. They were feeling less disturbing and more teasing.

She raised her head and startled. People were watching her, and gently applauding. She blushed again, but it was contained inside her rubber hood.

“I… I seem to have the hang of it.” she said, turning to face Karen.

“Damn! Apparently. I was expecting you to stumble and fall, actually… Wow. Just wow. You want to keep them?”

“Yes… Oh, damn. Would you…” she said, remembering she didn’t have any means to pay.

“Put it on my tab, dear.” said Karen to the saleslady. “And since I have to pay… again, I’m locking them on. After all, I own them until you pay them back, right?” she said, kneeling and snapping two small locks on the uppermost hole of the lacing. Oh… look at the time. We may have time. Come. Hurry.” said Karen, almost pulling Sandra along.

She followed. Damn, the forced en-pointe, the latex rubbing her legs, the toys dancing in her crotch, the corset, the hood… damn… They stopped just a few booths up, where there was a lot of floor space taken by large latex covered frames.

“Ever heard of a vacbed?” asked Karen.

“A vacbed? No. What is it… oh my gosh. What is happening to him? Is he glued in?” she said, approaching one of the latex frames laying on the floor where man could be seen sealed inside.

“He’s kept inside by vacuum. Want to try it? Listen. From your reactions to everything I’ve put you through, I’m sure you will love it.”

A woman, fully suited in latex and herself wearing ballet heels and corset, was waiting by the side of another latex frame, inviting Sandra to come in.

Nervously, almost shaking, Sandra sat and began to feed her feet inside the latex bag.

“Now, for breathing, you have the choice of a tube, a mouth mask, or a…”

“It’s already covered.” said Karen, holding what the man at the hood shop had given her. “It’s a tube gag. And it’s worn…. Like that.” she said, stuffing the tube in Sandra’s mouth who had no time to protest. “In you go, now.”

She slipped her body down the latex sheet while the operator was giving her safety measures and emergency call out.

“You won’t be able to move much once inside, so if something is going wrong, just wiggle as hard as you can. Okay?”

“Esshh.” she answered through the tube gag.

“Now, this is the latest model in vacuum sealing. Once the vacuum is achieved, the vacuum cleaner can be stopped and unplugged and it will keep its integrity for 24 hours guaranteed, she said, doing her sales pitch at the same time. People were watching and, well, Sandra was a potential customer. “Ready? Here we go.”

Sandra heard the sound of the vacuum cleaner entering in action, then something clung to her body, wrapping it, engulfing it, gluing it in the same position she was, tightening around her body. Within seconds, she was immobilized and her brain almost short circuited.

Her heart was beating fast. She tried to move but it was as if some force field was bringing her back to the same place she was before. It was like fighting a zillion of elastic bands, spread throughout her body. Damn. That was awesome!

She was totally immobile, yet totally comfortable. She felt something touch her.

“Feeling alright?” she heard Karen’s faint voice through two layers of latex. 

She nodded. Well she tried and managed just a little movement. Damn, that thing was restrictive. So awesome!

The sound of the vacuum disappeared and she was alone with her thoughts.

“I have a little surprise for you,” said Karen.

And then, her toys came alive, vibrating, pulsing, jolting. Her first reflex was to reach for it but she couldn’t, and when she struggled inside the vacbed, all she could feel was the cold steel pressing against her crotch. Damn! That was good.

Karen’s phone rang and she hung up a few moments later.

“There’s a brawl at the entrance. I have to take care of it. Can I leave her here with you? Shouldn’t be long.” she said, leaving.

Of course, inside her cocoon, Sandra was totally unaware that Karen was leaving her with her toys running, sealed inside a vacuum bed. Her ears would not have heard her anyway as she was not listening to the outside world. She was listening to her inner world. She felt an orgasm built.

“No, not here. Not in public.” she was thinking as she tried to fight it, but the more she fought it, the more aroused she became. She was triggering the very thing she was trying to avoid by trying to stop it. Devilish.

She exploded. Her body was run by electric shocks from the tip of her ballet boots to the end of the rubber hair of her hood. 

The spectators surrounding her were laughing. They knew what had just happened, and more people wanted to try the beds, more wanted to order one. In a few moments, the owner was overwhelmed by the task while Sandra was exploding again.

She was floating in space, admiring the fireworks of an exploding star, but that star was inside her, and all around her, and each sparkle of light touching her was sending her orgasmic vibrations and she was flying again, and again. On the outside, she was slowly squirming, thanks to the effects of the latex.

And she was out, in her happy place, a place she never knew even existed. She liked it there. She wanted to stay there.

She didn’t hear the fire alarm. In the small panic, people forgot about her. Someone within the brawl had pulled the alarm, forcing everybody out. Karen was caught in the middle of it and totally forgot about Sandra. Well, she was well taken care of anyway.

She thought.

She was sleeping like never before, relaxed, happy, amidst the clouds. For a moment, she thought that she would have to ask the hotel personel what brand of mattress was that because she never felt so good.

Her crotch was itching. She tried to reach it but… couldn’t? What the… She tried harder, trying to lift her whole arm, her head, to raise a leg, but it was as if someone or something was sitting over her. All over her, or some kind of force field, putting her back in place.

She opened her eyes and it was black. She couldn’t see. She felt something over her eyes. There was a tube down her mouth, then the memories came back. Of course. She was in the vacbed. Damn, that has been a good experience.

She wondered how long she had been in there, sleeping. Fifteen, maybe thirty minutes? Wait, the toys. They were silent. Wasn’t their batteries good for a few hours? Fuck!

She moaned, louder and louder, but trying as she might, she heard nothing. She squirmed. Gently at first, then harder and harder, trying to attract attention.

What the hell was going one here? She was stuck, unable to move, unable to get free, and it seemed like she was alone.

Oh no. That wasn’t true. She was getting hot and the more she squirmed, the hotter she became, until she exploded. What was wrong with her? She was perhaps into a life and death situation but it made her orgasm?

The orgasm was strong. All the helpless feelings, being blind, deaf, unable to move except the little play the vacbed allowed. She was feeling the corset, the chastity belt, the toys, although silent, their batteries probably drained out, they were there.

She sprung back into her happy place, finding peace and pleasure, her brain thinking “Oh well, better enjoy my last moments on Earth”.

In the dark convention hall, small moans were echoing with nobody to hear them.

She was dreaming of being encased in latex, sealed. Completely. She was feeling nothing else than latex on her skin. Even if she dressed up, all she felt was latex. She wasn’t feeling the cotton of the jeans, or the silk of the blouse, or the wind on her hair. Yet, she could sense them. Feeling without feeling. She liked the idea. And each time she moved, she had to work against the rubber, against its tightness, its thickness, because what she was wearing was not thin latex, but heavyweight latex, thick and tight and unyielding.

Suddenly, her thin latex became thinner. She could move more. In fact, she could move as if she was naked. She felt a flow of cool air over her skin. Wait, it wasn’t her skin but the latex. Or her skin was latex?

“Oh my gosh… Sandra? Are you okay?” She faintly heard, as someone grabbed her shoulder and she felt pulled upward until her brain woke up and she realized she was still in the vacbed and someone was pulling her out.

She moaned. As soon as her head was out, the gag was removed.

“Are we still in Kansas, Toto?” she asked, referencing the Wizard of Oz.

“I’m really sorry.” said the voice of the woman who put her in the vacbed. “I thought you had been taken out before the fire alarm.” she said.

“The… fire alarm? There was a fire?” she said as she leaned against her elbows, slowly extracting herself from the vacbed, getting the feeling back in her legs, then slowly standing up.

“Well, not exactly.” said the woman, helping Sandra steady herself on her ballet boots. “Wow, impressive.. Anyway, someone started a brawl at the entrance yesterday and the fire alarm was activated and we had to leave in a hurry and…”

“Wait. Yesterday? Asked Sandra, puzzled.”

“Well, yes. Yesterday evening?” answered the lady.

“What… What time is it?” asked Sandra looking at her wrist, but obviously, no watch.”

“About 08:30. We’re here to prep the shop before the convention starts at 09:00.”

“Shit!” exclaimed Sandra. “I have a presentation at 09:00. I must get ready.” she said, running off, looking right and left, trying to figure out the way out until the woman pointed her in the right direction. She stopped by the desk where Security had left her bag there since there was a room keycard with her ID in it. She especially wanted the key to her room.

She grabbed it and literally ran, without realizing she was still in ballet boots, to the elevator and to her room and headed for the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for her presentation. In front of the mirror, she froze, fully realizing her situation: fully suited up, locked in her boots, corset, suit, hood… She couldn’t take off anything without the keys for the cuffs, for the belt, for the hood… for the boots… And how the hell do you take that zipperless suit off?

Frantically, she searched for her phone. Of course, it was dead. She plugged it and had to wait a couple of minutes for it to boot and to access her phone book, looking for Karen’s number.

She immediately got her voicemail. Fuck! It meant that her phone was off. She was panicking. She tried to pull on the cuffs, but they were steel. She tried a few combinations, but she remembered that each cuff had a different combination. This could take ages. At first, the thought of being stuck in self-bondage was fun but now, that it was happening for real, was… disturbing. She closed her eyes.

“Fuck, no way.” she said as she put her gloved hand at her crotch, feeling the steel of the chastity belt, getting… hot at the thought. “It’s not the time.” she said to herself, then tried to snap out of it by calling Karen again, then the front desk, asking for Karen’s room number and calling her directly. The phone rang without an answer.

Little did she know that Karen wasn’t even in the convention center. She was still stuck at the police station. She had been arrested with the rest of the group that caused the problem. She had no ID papers with her and thus, she spent the night in a jail cell.

09:00 was approaching. Sandra had to cancel. She was not about to give a presentation to possible clients dressed like that. What would her boss say? And what would her boss say if she didn’t give the presentation? He had made it very clear that it was very important that, perhaps, the survival of the company was resting on it. Perhaps she could give it by staying hidden behind a wall or something. It was a powerpoint presentation after all. She could narrate it from the side. 

She had the idea of putting her business suit over it. Only her latex head would protrude and she could find an excuse. Yeah, that’s it. She quickly put on her vanilla clothes,which fit weird with her long ballet boots peeking out, her tiny waist and the bumps of her steel cuffs, ending with two bright red hands and a black head with red hair strands.

She shigh. At least, she would not be recognized.

She grabbed her laptop and headed for the convention center room she was assigned.

When she arrived, the technician provided by the center, who was already there, looked at her as if she was an extraterrestrial, helping her hooking her laptop to the projector. She could hear murmurs in the room. It seemed to be rather full. Damn. She would stay to the side. She fired up her laptop and put the first slide of the presentation on, then it dawned on her: she would have to point to a few things during the presentation. She had no choice but to be there, in front of everyone.

She put the wireless headset on and began.

“He… Hello everybody. My name is Sandra from Derek Logistics and I’m here to present to you how our company can help your business grow by using our services to dispatch your packages efficiently and at low cost.” she said, switching to the next slide,  her voice sounding strange, hearing it through her latex hood.

“Where are you?” She heard someone saying, and hearing others agreeing.

“I’m right here, to the side of the stage… It’s… it’s my first presentation… I… Please, bear with me.”

“We want to see the face of that company.” someone said.

“I… I can’t right now.”

“Why, having a bad hair day?” said someone, making the crowd laugh, and by the extent of the laugh, there were at least a hundred people there! Damn!!

“Come on, show yourself, Sandra, or we’re leaving.” said another one which gained a round of applause.

“Shit!” thought Sandra. “ If I don’t go, they’ll leave. If I go… they’ll leave. But at least, they would have a reason.”

In a split second, her business attire was on the floor, the technician was stunned and she walked on stage, expecting to be booed, but she froze… and the people cheered.

There, in front of her, the crowd who had come for the presentation were all dressed in… latex, leather, some were even tied up in their suits. There were a few casually dressed spectators which seemed to be feeling a lot more out of place than Sandra.

“I told you it was her. Karen told me” Sandra heard one say to his neighbor, a woman sitting elbow-tied, wearing a full purple latex catsuit.

“What’s going on here?” she asked herself. After a few moments of disorientation, she was able to snap out of it and began her presentation.

At first, it was awkward, moving in front of all those people, dressed as she was. She felt that they were more looking at her than at the presentation itself. And after a time, she didn’t mind. She loved how the latex pulled when she raised her arm. She loved to feel the weight of the steel cuffs, the restriction caused by the corset forcing her to talk with short phrases, the way she had to move her neck, thanks to the collar. Every time she was lifting an arm, she could see the reflection of the harsh lights of the room on it, of the projected image. It aroused her, but not as much as the toys teasing her with each step, with each twist, with each hip stretch, and even worse when she dropped her pointer and had to bend down to retrieve it.

At about two-third into the presentation, the door at the back of the room opened and entered a woman, fully clad in a black latex catsuit, who simply leaned against the back wall and smiled, waiving a discrete hello of the hand: Karen!

By the end of the presentation, she couldn’t hear anybody. She was concentrating on finishin it and holding the orgsam that was building hard and strong.

She pretty much ran backstage to lean against a wall and cool off, both hands at her crotch, under the puzzled look of the technician. Damn!

“They’re waiting for your business card.” said a voice Sandra recognized.

“Fuck! Karen? What the hell is going on? Is this a prank or what?… Oh shit! I’m so hot right now… and I don’t have any business cards. Phil had them…. Oah… Gawd!” she said, her brain switching from one subject to the other.

Karen giggled.

“Well, yes and no. Here are the business cards.” she said, handing her a box of standard cards with the company logo. “Now go give them and I’ll explain everything afterward.” she said, pushing her back into the conference room. She got praised for her presentation, for her outfit, for having the guts to go forward and that it gave them, the fetish good providers, confidence that her company would handle their packages the right way.

After fifteen minutes, the room was empty except for Karen who had kept her distance while she was distributing the business cards.

“Now, would you tell me what the fuck this is all about?” asked Sandra, pissed off, but still hot as she put hand on the steel crotch band.

“I will, but since it is strictly private business, we should go to your room.”

They walked to Sandra’s room, in silence, Sandra half way between an orgasm and being pissed off. As soon as the door was closed, she turned to face Karen.

“Now, tell me what the fuck this is all about.” she said with a firm tone Karen thought her incapable of.

“Well, following your presentation and its success, your company changed name. I’m pretty sure you noticed the business cards, right?” asked Karen.

“The business card? It has our logo and my name on it… wait… What is that DK thing? What’s going on?”

“Simple. It all depended on the success of your presentation. Since it was successful, I now own 51% of the company. DK stands for Derek-Karen. It’s a complicated deal to explain but well, it’s there and to protect against any conflict of interest, ‘Karen’ is not explicitly spelled.”

“So… all of this,” said Sandra, gesturing at her outfit, “was planned? A stunt to boost your acquisition?”

“That’s the funny part: no. Absolutely not. First, someone named Phil was supposed to lead the presentation. I was told he was bringing an assistant with him. However, when he heard the fetish thing about the potential merger, he withdrew, leaving only the assistant. I was pissed off, that situation could jeopardize the merger, which was probably what Phil was hoping. then I discovered it was you. However, I knew you as a pretty shy and rather prude person. I had no clue how you would react. I never expected you to be, well… like that.”

“So… you forced this into me?”

“What? No. You’re the one who approached me stating that  you liked being handcuffed when arrested, right. I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t force anything on you and if you had chosen not to come, that would have been okay. You are what you are, and obviously, you’re kinky. You just didn’t know it.”

Sandra grunted.

“Now what?”

“I’m sure you noticed there was a closed booth with the DK Logistics logo on it right? Well, it’s your booth. You’re to mann it for the day. There’s more potential suppliers that may join the movement.

“So… I will be manning a logistics booth selling… logistic services. Except for business cards, I have nothing to show or give.”

“Only repeat what you said in the presentation, the services we offer and stuff.”

Karen thought for a moment.

“Okay then, but with two conditions.”

A little over an hour later, Karen simply pulled the curtain of the DK Logistics booth and walked behind a chalkboard. To her left, Sandra, tied up in a bondage chair, legs spread wide opened, and to the far right of the booth, a computer terminal.

On the chalkboard was written “Enter your contact information. For every new subscription, Sandra’s toys will be activated for one minute.”

A line up quickly formed. Sandra’s toys were buzzing long and hard. All could be heard was her muffled screams under her blow-up gag, her eyesight cut by a thick blindfold.

Behind her, a large poster of the logo of the company, modified by adding a large “S” besides the DK.

That  evening, after she was released, she could barely walk to her room, and as she slipped her booted feet under the cotton bedsheets of the hotel, she smiled. She wasn’t feeling the cotton, nor the breeze of the air conditioning. All she was feeling was latex and the weight of the steel restraints, the constriction of the corset, the rigidity of the chastity belt and the gag filling her mouth. And it was only the beginning. She  hoped.

© monsterp63

December 27, 2021

  1. I’m the fucking author. I can write myself in if I want to! 😉
  2. I’m no Stan Lee but a guy can have his fantasies, can he?

For the curious, to clear things some people might think:

  • I own a FR Catsuit (partly sponsored by FR)
  • I own a hood by MKL Latex Design (not sponsored)
  • I own a vacbed by K-E (not sponsored) – Currently on loan to “Le Purgatoire”
  • I own footwear from ShoeFreaks (non sponsored)
  • I WISH I had something from RTBU and My-Steel. The person who “Sandra” is based on, do own a My-Steel belt. (not-sponsored)
  • I didn’t asked permission to any of them to use their logo, nor do they know about it (unless they read my stories… or someone tells them) – and I personally don’t expect to hear from them. And I got no sponsorship from them.
  • “Le Purgatoire” and “Opalace” are dungeons in Québec, Canada. I know both of their owners.

Why did I use their logos? Because otherwise, I would have to come up with my own phony-company names, spoofing the names of those real companies and I’m really, but really bad at designing logos (just look at the DK Logistics logo…), so… why not use the real ones. Anyways no harm done.

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25 thoughts on “Sandra & Karen: The Convention

  1. Bravo,
    Encore de très jolies illustrations, j’ai particulièrement apprécié les cuissardes ballet heels; j’aime beaucoup la forme au niveau du pied, le talon aiguille est très bien réalisé et le bout de la botte légèrement incurvé donne une ligne superbe, beaucoup plus sexy et jolie que les ballet heels classiques. 🙂

    1. Merci Stéphane, mais je n’ai aucun mérite là dessus.
      DAZ3D c’est comme jouer avec des poupées: tu prends des modèles et tu leur enfile des vêtements “tout faits $$”, tu les mets dans une maison “toute faite $$” avec des accessoires “tout faits $$”.
      Je peux faire quelques modifications (textures, comme le logo FR sur la combinaison de Sandra, ou les affiches), mais le gros du travail c’est de placer les personnages dans la scène, les expressions, l’éclairage et de choisir l’environement. Ensuite, l’ordinateur fait le travail du rendu (ombres, réflexions, etc). Par exemple, la première scène du lobby de l’hotel a pris entre 30 et 45 minutes à créer (placer les personnages, ajuster leurs expressions, les “habiller”, ajuster l’éclairage, etc), et 4hrs à l’ordinateur pour faire le rendu final.
      Mais pour le design des vêtements, accessoires etc, je n’ai rien à voir. Je les achète.

  2. Ok, très bien, il est vrai que je ne connais pas grand chose à tout cela, mais c’est quand même du travail, cela ne se réalise pas tout seul.
    En fait je suis tombé sur vous par hasard sur le web, je cherchais des illustrations 3D sur le thème du latex, et boum !! Monster P63 😀
    Bonne continuation 🙂

    1. Pas de problème Stéphane et merci.
      En passant, tu connais peut-être déjà, mais sur Deviant Art, tu as Rubbermatt qui est un excellent artiste.
      Également 4f-creations.com. Comme il utilise principalement “photoshop” pour ses images, ce gars-là est dans une classe à part. Époustouflant. Ça fait plus de 20 ans que je le suis.

      Pierre.

  3. Oui je connais depuis longtemps déjà Rubbermatt, ainsi que ShinyDelight; et bien-sûr Rick Van Koert et ses illustrations super sensuelles avec des visages de célébrités 😀
    Je me promène également régulièrement sur Deviantart où parfois je tombe sur des petites pépites 🙂

    1. Thank you Godzillarodeo.
      Some people like short stories, other prefer long ones.
      As for me, I don’t plan how long it’s going to be. I’m not like “okay, lets write a 30 pages story”. I start to write and I end it when I feel it’s the end and, then you have it: it’s a four pages story or it’s 80 pages long.
      For example, I am currently writing a story (working title: The Cinema). I have four pages written. I feel I might be a third or half done, so 8 to 10 pages total, but it may well end-up being a 30 pages long story. I don’t even know myself until I put the (c) notice.

      Pierre.

  4. A long latex coat story! I like it! Look forward to your new story of wearing latex clothes forever!

  5. A wonderful story of self discovery. The images were fantastic, and fit the story very well.

  6. I’m still reading this one – about 30% or 40% through. I really like it, so far.

    But I gotta say… “level of a singing bird”… wait until one of the cute little fuckers takes a liking to your window sill and often sits there eeeeeearly Sunday morning while singing its little heart out… they can be quite LOUD!
    😉

    1. One notable typo: “applied the shiny steel cuffs around Karen’s waist and ankles, as well as a steel collar”
      I think instead of “waist” it should be “wrists”?

    2. When I was 10 or so, during the summer, at sunrise, there was that bird that would come in and stand on the fence, about 2m from the window. And sing. His friends would answer and he would call again.
      There was no air conditioning, meaning that my window was always open. I couldn’t see said bird because he was standing just out of my line of sight.
      That WOULD have been wonderful, if that damn bird hasn’t been a FUCKING CROW.

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