Karen – A Little Favor

5
(39)

Saturday evening. Karen was at home. She was settling to binge watch some TV series when her phone rang. She looked at the caller ID, puzzled. She answered.

“Hi Karen, this is Lynda from the University. Remember me?”

Karen frowned, searching her memory for a moment.

“Oh, err… yeah, Drunky-Lynda, right?. It’s been a while, what three years or so?”

“Ha, ha, yeah, long time. Listen, I’ll cut right to the chase because I don’t have much time. I need a little favor.”

“Really?” asked Karen, raising her eyebrows.

“I have to attend work tonight but, well, I had a small car accident, nothing serious but I was slightly over the booze limit so… I’m heading to jail for the night. Can… Can you cover for me? It’s a simple waitress job, but if I don’t show up or someone fills in for me, I’ll lose that job and that’s all I have.”

“Really? We haven’t talked for over 3 years and, well, honestly we never hung out together and now, out of the blue, you thought about me to fill-up for you at your job? Why?” asked Karen, really puzzled and in no way inclined to say yes. “What’s the catch?”

“Because… well… There’s no catch. You once worked as a waitress, right? And… Re… Remember how you liked to wear tight jeans and high heels and tight leather or vinyl? Do… Do you still do it? Are you still… eum… kinky?”

“That’s an odd question, Lynda,” said Karen. “Why? Is your waitress job an ‘escort gig’ or something?” she asked, emphasizing the escort part.

“What? Ha, ha. No. Not, not an escort. It’s just that it’s for a private fetish club, so, you know… waitresses dress in latex and heels and stuff…” she said, trailing off, like not wanting to actually say the words.

“Okay…” thought Karen. She was indeed kinky and had worn latex a few times, and the prospect of spending the evening in a latex maid outfit, serving drinks was not completely repulsive, but… “Why should I do that to you?”

“For one thousand dollars?”

“Yeah, right. You’re going to pay me a gran for that? Sorry. Not buying it. Goodbye Lynda.”

“WAIT! WAIT! Don’t hang up. I’m serious. Well, I’m not paying you that much, but the job does. It’s one thousand dollars for one evening, from 22:00 to 03:00. No sexual intercourse involved. It’s not a hooker job. That’s why it’s my only job and I really need it.”

“Really? One thousand for an evening serving in latex or something? That’s totally silly.”

“That’s the price I get paid. So, wanna do it? Please?”

Karen thought for an instant. A thousand dollars would be welcome. She had been a waitress before, so nothing new there, and she would just do it in heels and perhaps in some latex maid outfit. Why not?

“Okay I’ll do it, but this time only.” said Karen.

“Yeah, sure. No problem. Thanks.”

“But wait. If it is NOT what you said, that it is NOT one thousand dollars or if there’s any kind of sexe, escort thing or the like involved, I will turn around. Understood? Do you want to revise what you said?” 

“Well… there might be some sex invo…”

“Ha! I knew it. Nope, count me out.”

“No, no. Not that kind of sex. It’s complicated.”

“I have all evening, Lynda.”

“Well… err… okay… you have to wear that latex suit and then there’s those plugs… Oh… what?” sad Lynda, talking to someone else Karen could also hear. It was a warden ordering her to cut it short. “Okay sir… Listen, Karen. Just go there, it’s the Foxy Club.” said Lynda.

She quickly gave Karen the information, directions and who to get in contact with. An hour later, she was entering the club, located right in the glamor district of downtown, through a back door. A man in leather opened the door.

“Yes?” he asked, opening the little door to see people.

“Euh… Hi… My… My name is Karen. I’m here to fill-in for Lynda? I have to talk to, hum…” she said, looking at her phone, “Phil?”

“That’s me.” he said with a sigh. “What’s with her again? Passed out drunk?” he asked, opening the door.

“DUI” said Karen, hesitantly walking in.

“No surprise here. Do you have any experience in waitressing? You do know this is a kinky club, right?”

“Yes, and yes. I’ve been a waitress in bars and restaurants for a few years and even worked as a bartender.” said Karen.

“Perfect, then, this is a bar and grill, so booze and food” he said as they reached what was looking like changing booths. He went to a large storage shelf unit, divided in large squares, half a meter wide per side. One of them was marked Lynda. He grabbed a thick plastic envelope and handed it to Karen.

“Neck entry catsuit. You know how to put that on, right? Sandra will help you with the rest of the gear.” he said, pointing to the changing booths.

“The rest of the gear?” asked Karen, but Phil was already gone. She took the envelope and headed for a small changing stall.

There was a bottle of lubricant and already, the walls and floor were all smeared off and quite slippery with silicone oil. The door didn’t even had locks.

She proceeded to undress. She never put on a neck entry catsuit before but she knew what it was, having seen videos of it. Nonetheless, it was a lot more difficult than she anticipated.

“Done Lynda? You’re almost late… again.” said the voice of a young woman.

“Oh… sorry. It’s Karen. I’m filling in for Lynda.” she said from the other side of the booth. “Ouch! Geesh, that thing is tight.” she said, struggling.

“Sigh… Let me see.” said Sandra, opening the door, and seeing Karen with the suit badly pulled up at the crotch, while she was trying to feed her arms into one of the sleeves, her hand stuck in the wrist leading to the attached glove.

“What the hell… Why do all of you simply be honest and say: I never put on a neck entry catsuit before. Gheesh!” said Sandra, grabbing the latex from Karen’s hips and pulling hard on it, pulling the latex up her legs.

Karen struggled to keep her balance, already impaired by her awkward pose with her stuck arm. Sandra then grabbed the latex at chest level and pulled on it, freeing the latex for Karen’s stuck arm, allowing it to reach the end of the glove.

“Now, bend your arm like this…” she said, pulling on the collar to enter Karen’s elbow into the suit, “Now, reach for the glove… that’s it.” she said as the suit rose up, pulling everywhere, getting the last pocket of air out through the neck opening.

“Oops. There’s something not right at the crotch.” said Karen, reaching and feeling a zipper.”

“It’s okay, it’s the pouches,” said Sandra.

“The pouches? Asked Karen.

“Sight… As usual, Lynda didn’t explain everything to you, right? Like what you’ll be here and such?”

“Well…” said Karen, looking down, “she told me that it was a waitress job wearing latex and paying one thousand dollars a night.”

“Well… yeah. Partially. There are waitresses. They make about $250 per night. However, you’re filling in for Lynda. Lynda is a drone. Drones make between $500 and $1000 a night, depending on the rewards.

“A… drone? What the hell is that?”

“A drone is a… computer controlled person, although here, it’s not exactly that. You will wear plugs and a helmet and will be restrained, like Kim here.” she said, pointing to a woman in shiny black latex, crushing corset, chastity belt, walking on pointy ballet boots, legs linked with short chains and arms tied in her back. A large tray was attached to her corseted waist. 

Her head was covered by a rigid ball, showing only some sort of matte red visor. 

“When a customer wants to order something, he calls a drone.” continued Sandra. “You see the table number in your visor. You go to that table, then, navigating through the menu within your visor with your eyes, you select what the customer ordered. The order is placed automatically at the kitchen and/or bar. When the order is ready, you get a notification. You go to the pick-up counter and someone will put the customer’s choices on your tray, then you walk to the table and wait. A waitress,” she said, pointing at another woman passing by wearing the classic french main outfit, but made out of latex, “will confirm the order and put everything down for the customer.”

“That’s it?” asked Karen, puzzled.

“That’s it.”

“Then, why the… plugs.?”

“Oh, simple. There’s no gratuities. Well, there are, in the form of points. If the customer is happy with your service, he gives you points. If he is not, he removes points. Said points are visible on your screen. At the end of the night, if your points are on the plus side, you get rewards. If they’re on the minus side, you get, well, punished, or you can trade them for money. If you use all your points for pleasure, you get out of here with $500. The maximum points you can exchange is 500 for $500, so you get out with $1000.”

“And if I’m minus and I don’t take the punishments?”

“Then you leave with less than $500. However, the minimum is $300, meaning that if you have so many minus points that you would go to below $300, you get the pay cut AND the punishment. My advice, try to say on the plus side. Now, spread your legs.” said Sandra, kneeling and taking two large plugs.

“You’re not…”

“I am.” said Sandra, pushing the first in, hard and fast inside Karen’s rectum who didn’t have time to react. “Yeah, fast, quick and by surprise. The best way. Now the vaginal one.” she said, taking another huge dildo and stuffing it in place before closing the zipper.

Karen was dancing from one foot to the other, not sure of the feeling. Sure, she had played with dildos before, but not that large and not in the rear end.

Sandra then pulled a tight fitting latex hood over Karen’s head, leaving only holes for the eyes, nostrils and mouth. She carefully put the large yoke of the hood under the tight collar of the suit, removing any wrinkles that were left. She smiled, satisfied with the look.

Karen ran her fingers over her latex covered head and face. It was weird. It was weird not feeling the latex itself because of her gloved hands and not feeling her face because of the latex hood. It was far from the small leotard she once wore.

She was breathing hard, trying to make sense of her emotions, when Sandra left to come back with a black leather corset, wrapping around Karen’s waist.

“Okay, suck it in. Lynda is a little skinnier than you so it’s gonna be a very tight fit.” said Sandra who began to pull on the lacing.

She was small but she was showing incredible strength at tightening Karen’s corset, tighter and tighter.

“That’s… tight enough… I think.” said Karen.

“Nope.” said Sandra, giving another strong yank, surprising Karen who expelled a lot of air. “The tray is custom made to fit over the closed corset. This thing. Has. To. Close.” she said, giving three more strong yanks.

Karen’s eyes were bulging and she was holding her waist with her latex gloved hands, feeling the tensed leather over her body.

“That’s insane. I can’t go on like that.” said Karen.

“It’s really up to you, Karen,” said Sandra. “ If you don’t show, customers won’t be happy and you will get negative points.” she said, knotting the laces. “Okay, let’s lock you in.” she said, grabbing a steel belt and wrapping it around Karen’s tiny waist.

“Lock me in?” mumbled Karen.

Karen remembered seeing that other ‘drone’ with a chastity belt, but she didn’t think… She yelped when Sandra pulled the crotch strap up, pushing the dildos even deeper, and with the corset pushing her organs down, the pressure was very well felt.

“Oh my gosh.” managed to say Karen between two breaths.

“Okay, the heels now. I saw black pumps by the changing booth. Yours?”

“Yes.” said Karen.

“Good, so you’re already familiar with high heels. Ballet boots are just a stretch. Sit down.” commanded Sandra, indicating a nearby stool.

“B… Ballet?…”

Karen sat, which of course, pushed the chastity belt upward, pushing the dildos. She moaned. She watched as her latex covered toes and feet were encased into these extreme booties. Sandra expertly laced the boots and topped them off with black leather cuffs and a red trim. The cuffs were linked by an apparently permanent chain, which would allow her small steps. She added small padlocks and closed them.

Karen was too shocked to say anything. She was simply trying to cope with all the new feelings: the latex, the corset, the boots, and now the cuffs, that she didn’t react when more cuffs were locked over her knees. And the locks…

She was instructed to stand up. It was a struggle at first, trying to find her balance on such extreme footwear, impaired by the bondage cuffs.

Sandra grabbed Karen’s arms from behind and added more leather cuffs, bringing her wrists together then she gently pulled her elbows in,closer and closer in, until they touched.

“Wow! Quite flexible! You’ll get rewards points from customers just for that. Good for you.” said Sandra as she linked the cuffs together, locking Karen’s arms in her back.

All of that was overwhelming. Karen’s brain had a hard time coping with all those strong feelings and emotions, a mix of love and hate, pain and pleasure, comfort and discomfort. Sandra approached with a large plastic piece. Inside of it, she could see what would be the screens then a huge plug.

“Open wide.” said Sandra, getting the front piece of the helmet closer.

Karen moved her head away from it.

“No. No way. That’s enough. No. Not gonna do it. I’m out. Get me out of this.” she said, wiggling her bound wrists.

“No can do.” said Sandra with a smile. “You signed a contract. You’re obligated to…”

“What? No. I never signed any contract. I accepted, verbally, to fill in for Lynda. Lynda signed that fucking contract. I didn’t. Get me out. NOW.” commanded Karen.

“What? Phil didn’t make you sign the release form? It should have been the first thing. Shit. Oh well, you’re stuck in this suit nonetheless until 03:00, because it’s only then that the keys are released. Not before.

“Shit.” said Karen, sitting down on the stool, thinking. 

Sandra stood there, holding the helmet in her hands, waiting. Karen suddenly jolted as one of her dildos sent her some kind of electric pulse. It wasn’t painful but disturbing. “What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Oh, you’re set to work and should already be on the floor. You got an order. Of course, you can choose to ignore it. Negative points will add up and you’ll get punished for it. As you do not work at all, you have no money to pay it back, and customer’s satisfaction is a priority here. Said Sandra, picking the helmet up and showing it to Karen. “You can at least give it a try.”

Karen closed her eyes and thought for a second. During that time, she received another burst.

“Okay, let’s go.” she said with a sigh.

Sandra stretched the helmet into two halves and gently placed the front half over Karen’s face, aligning the small nose hoses into the nose holes of the hood, then the large gag into Karen’s mouth, pressing the front piece firmly against her face. Only her eyes had no pressure but for now, they were only seeing black.

The back portion was closed. The pressure on her head increased as Sandra used the embedded ratchet mechanism to bring it together. 

The gag was almost reaching the back of Karen’s throat and she was fighting with her gag reflex. Then things took another turn as the gag inflated, pressing against her cheeks. She tried to reach it, to stop it, but her hands were safely held in her back, adding to the powerless feeling. The screens lit up. She was seeing Sandra but not hearing anything. Then there was a crackling in the ears.

“I know it’s overwhelming. Just relax. You’ll get used to it in no time.” Now, see, on the screen, to the bottom left, a square is flashing. Stare at it. It will open a map of the floor with the location of the table that requested you. The number is the order in which you have to attend to them. On the bottom right, you have two menus: bar and grill. It’s pretty much straight forward from there. Now, get to work.” she said, slapping Karen’s latex butt hard and strong.

Karen twitched, made a few steps forward and almost lost it, not preparing for the limitation of the chains, she leaned forward and started to stumble, heading straight for the wall, on which she collided with a loud crunch as she punched through it with her hard helmet, before collapsing on the ground.

“Hey easy!” said Sandra. Karen grunted but no sound came out.

Phil rushed to the noise and Sandra explained what happened. In the meantime, Karen’s toys buzzed again. She straightened herself up and hobbled her way to the main dining area, following the map.

She got to the first table.

“About time,” said a man with scars on his face. He was at a table with another man, bald, both in business suits. He picked his phone and Karen saw -10 appear on her reward counter. Shit, this was starting off badly.

He then proceeded with his order of four different kinds of beers, so fast that Karen, not knowing the menus, had a hard time following. She was searching through the menus to find everything, so she simply stood there.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Go.” said the man again, and the reward display showed -20. 

She turned around, walking slowly, trying to complete the order while heading for the next table. She was received with a similar behavior with her lateness and when the order was done, she was at -35. The customers at the third table were apparently not ready to order, so she got somewhat lucky there, but they gave zero points.

She had a notification that the first table orders were ready. She hobbled her way to the bar. By this time, she was already hot just by the moving toys inside her. Hell, she was literally screwing herself. The bondage was not helping. Not that it was annoying, no, on the contrary: she liked it. It made her hornier. 

For most of the evening, she was kept on the edge, always teased and tormented, but never able to release it. With time, the positive scores outweigh the negative ones. Not a lot, but she ended her night with a score of 135.

The question appeared on her screen. Money or reward?.

What should she do? take the pay or… live it. What the hell. This was worth basically $135. She would still get $500 for her troubles. And she was so horny by then that simply taking everything off and letting go of it seemed… absurd.

She answered she wanted the reward.

Sandra appeared, smiling.

“So, reward it is. Come.” she said, leading Karen, still all bound up, through an almost concealed door.

They entered a dimly lit room, mainly from red lights. It took some time for Karen to see clearly. Evidently, the cameras of her helmet were not meant for this kind of light. She was startled.

This was a full blown sex dungeon, from what she could make up based on TV shows and some magazine photos and descriptions. There was ‘torture devices’ everywhere: crosses, frames, cages, beds, tables, chains and rings hanging everywhere.

“Well, what setup do you want? Oh right, with your points, it’s pretty much basic. Come over here.” she said, leading her under a chain hanging from the ceiling.

She took an eyebolt and screwed it on top of Karen’s helmet then she hooked it to the chain. Taking her phone, she punched a few keys and the hanging chain began to retract, pulling Karen’s up by the head. Her feet were about to leave the ground when it finally stopped.

“Okay, here we go.” said Sandra, punching more keys.

Karen’s visor turned to black, and then… nothing. She just stood there, unable to move much, dangling on the tips of her toes, hands tied in her back, neck stretched. What the fucking kind of pleasure was that? If people got aroused by that, she wasn’t it.

She tried to get excited. She was aroused but that was quickly draining the mood. She tried to moan, to protest, but the gag muffled every attempt.

Then, she felt a pulse at her crotch. Merely a second long.

Was it real or just her imagination? It had been brief. She was expecting to hear Well, your $135 worth of pleasure is over, like what they do in fare rides, but there was still silence.

Then there was another pulse but… from the buttplug?. That was boring… oh, another one in front. Then in the back. Then a little electrical jolt. She jerked, only to be pulled back by the hanging chain. Then there was a long vibration from the front, followed by a pause, then the butt plug would fire, then pause.

It alternated, short or long pulses, long or short pauses, then an electrical pulse, or two, never the same pattern.

And that was working. Well, it was working up Karen. She wanted to touch her crotch, to play with the dildo while it was silent, but she couldn’t with her arms secured in her back. And that was arousing. No wait. She was aroused by being unable to touch herself? By being… denied?

The dance of the dildos increased. By this time, she had forgot where she was, she was only focusing on the pleasure, how it built up, of all the scenarios she had in her mind, of all the lovers she had before and how she liked when they stretched her arms wide, pinning her down, how she loved fighting them, how it aroused her to be… restrained.

Shit! This was awesome, the orgasm was building. It was weird, because she felt that she should already have had one. She’d never been so worked up, so aroused, so horny without orgasming. Why? Simply because each time she was about to, all stopped for a short moment. Not very long, but just enough for her to lose the momentum, to get frustrated, before being worked up again, pumped up, filling her brain with pleasure hormones.

She was starting to get used to it, to the frustration. She was waiting for it to stop, almost reluctantly rejecting the pleasure. But it didn’t stop as she expected. She wasn’t denied as she was anticipating.

By the time her brain had realized the misleading feelings, she was higher than she never thought possible and all hell broke loose!

She screamed, she twisted, she jumped, fly, launched, everything in sequence, everything at the same time. She was fighting her bounds like the Devil in Holy waters, she thought.

From the exterior, she was squirming on her tether, holding her helmet, her head. Her feet were dancing on the floor, barely touching it. Sandra was smiling, looking at her while prepping the other drones or even waitresses wanting a good time, putting them on the cross, on fucking benches, linking their toys with the central control.

Karen wasn’t even there anymore. Well, her mind wasn’t. It was elsewhere. She was flying through star systems, galaxies, seeing strange frog-like aliens, even an astronaut in wedge high heels boots riding a rocket.

She was aiming for a star, a large sun, which became brighter and brighter as her brain turned into a mushy mess of pleasure hormones and blacked out.

She felt something being forced into her mouth. She tried to push it out, opening her eyes, feeling her head suddenly free, the large gag, dripping of saliva being pulled out of her mouth. Sandra was there, smiling.

“My guess is that you enjoyed it.” she said with a wink.

Karen tried to sit down but her arms were still well secured in her back.

“Here, let me help you.” said Sandra, gently rolling Karen on her side. She heard faint clicks as her arms were able to move again.

She sat and Sandra handed her a keychain with one key.

“One key fits all.” she said, walking away to attend another drone who was apparently passed out on the cross.

Karen took a few moments to regain her composure, to return to reality, to figure out where she was, who she was… WHAT she was.

Slowly, exhausted, she removed the cuffs on her arms and legs, taking the dreadful ballet boots off.

She got up, still standing on her toes. Weird. Almost as if… Nah…

She put her heel down and fondled at the lock of the chastity belt, finally finding the lock.

She let out a long groan as she pulled the crotch band off, releasing the plug at the same time. She was so relaxed that she felt both plugs get out of their holes and simply hang inside the crotch zipper of the suit.

She reached for the zipper.

“Better do that in the changing booth, and to take the suit off, there’s shower stalls at the end of the locker room.” said Sandra, helping another client out of another machine.

Stumbling, steps irregular, she made her way to the changing booth where she pulled the plugs out, getting a hold from a handle inside the booth, like if it was purpose built.

Fingers shaking, she reached for the lacing at the back of her corset. She fought with it a little and finally, managed to undo the knot and loosen the corset.

It almost came off as a pop. She felt extreme pain on her stomach as it stretched back. She fell on her knees, grunting. It was painful but at the same time, pleasurable.

On all four, she managed to reach a shower stall and turned on the water.

It splashed on her rubber skin, bouncing off, dripping off like rain on a freshly waxed car. The feeling was weird. She could feel the water hitting her, she could feel the temperature of the water, but she could not feel the water itself. It was like being isolated, dreaming. That suit was cursed. It had to be. Because she liked it!

She showered herself, or rather the suit, rubbing her hands over her body, squishing her breasts a few times, amazed that she could still be aroused after she had just experienced. Her hands ran down her chest, to her waist, to her buns, gently rubbing them, down to her thighs before turning and heading for her crotch.

“Need help getting out of the suit, Karen?”

She jumped, realizing that she was not in a dream, but at a strange workplace, and he actually needed to get the suit off.

“Oh… Yeah… How do you take this off?” she said, stretching the collar, trying to get it below her shoulder but each time, it slipped off her latex covered fingers.

“Let me help.” said Sandra, opening the shower curtains. “It’s difficult with bare hands, almost impossible with lubed gloves. Here… There… Pull your shoulder off… now your arm. Good. Now the other arm… Yes, that’s it.” she said, her own red latex catsuit being splashed by the hot water. “I believe you can take off the hood and the suit by yourself, now. There’s a bin by the door. Just drop everything there. Someone will take care of it and it will be ready for your… err… Lynda’s next gig.” she said, switching to attend another woman removing her suit.

Karen showered, but the water ran down her skin as if waxed or… oiled. That silicone stuff is somewhat sticky.

After a long shower, she dried herself and walked out, wrapping her body in the provided towel, found a changing booth and her city clothes and put them back on.

It felt weird. Yes the jeans were tight and she was in heels, but it wasn’t latex.

She was about to walk out when she heard her name called.

“Karen!” said Phil. “Don’t forget your pay. That’s why you came here after all… right?” he asked with a sneaky grin.

“Oh… yeah. Thanks.” she said, thinking to herself that the orgasm itself amply paid for it.

She woke up the next morning, in her bed, past noon. She didn’t even remember how she got back!

“Shit! That was one hell of a bad drug.” she whispered.

She got up. Her legs were hurting, hell her whole body was hurting like if she had completed a triathlon, and especially her crotch. It was not hurting, but it was sensitive as hell.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember as much as she could, but all her brain registered was the immense pleasure she had. Strange. She remembered the pleasure but nothing else.

She spent the rest of Sunday lounging around, reading on the small patio of her flat. And Monday, it was back to work.

She had barely opened the door of her flat on Friday afternoon, eager to go out with friends at that new dance club, when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, but it belonged to some Sandra. She answered.

“Hi Karen, it’s Sandra from the Foxy Lounge, remember me?”

“Err… Not really.” said Karen, embarrassed.

“Yeah, nothing new here.” answered Sandra, laughing. “It seems to always happen on the first time here. Listen… err… Lynda was slammed in jail for at least ninety days and we need someone to fill-in for her. Would you be interested?”

“Uh… I don’t know. For Saturday night?”

“Yeah, about that… Lynda was a regular, meaning she was doing Friday and Saturday. Do you think you could do… both? For the next three months?”

“Are you out of your mind?? I don’t even remember what I did last Saturday. Why would I be willing to go back, two days a week for three months?”

“For a thousand dollars a night? Think about it, Karen. You got the hang of it. Damn, you went from minus 380 points to plus 135. I mean, that’s the equivalent of 515 points. You can easily make it, and who knows, reach the 1000 points, meaning $500 for 500 points, AND you would still have 500 rewards points on top of that. Want to give it a try? Otherwise, all the other drones will pay for it with late service, hence negative points… Please?”

“Can I think about it?”

“Uh… sure, but I need an answer by 19:00. Because we may have to cancel some reservations, which is something we never had to do.”

She thought about it. $1000 a night, two nights per week for 12 weeks means $24K. She could finally pay for her dream cruise, and have two incredible orgasms per weekend!

She called her friends to cancel her plans and called Sandra back, stating that she would give it a try, without any promises she would do three months worth of it. Sandra agreed..

She entered the back-door of the lounge, greeted by Phil, who had a large envelope.

“This is the contract, Karen. Please, sign it… this time.” he said as if it was HER fault she didn’t the last time, while HE never showed her the papers.

She took it out and frowned.

“Wait. This is a three months full time contract.”

“Yes.” said Phil. “You’re taking over Lynda, which has a full time contract.”

“That is not what I agreed with Sandra,” said Karen.

“I don’t care. The contract is the contract. Sign it or get out.” he bluntly answered back.

“What the fuck, Phil?” said Sandra with a voice that sent chills down Karen’s spine. Apparently, this little woman could be kind and caring but is hiding a lionesse one shouldn’t disturb.

“It’s the contract.” he said, stuttering. “She has to sign it.” he added, his voice shaking.

“Let me see that… Oh, for fuck’s sake, Phil. Get the hell out of my face before I hang you by the balls!” she said, tearing the contract in front of Karen. “He’s a good worker but likes to pretend he runs the place. I do. “I’ll be right back. You can start to change into your latex outfit.” she said, wiggling her little butt in her red catsuit and chastity belt toward the office.

Karen took the bag of goodies with her name on it and proceeded to the changing booth. All was coming back to her mind. She easily slid her heet inside the cold and tight rubber, quikly warming up. As she pulled it over her legs, up to her stomach, her breath was beginning to shake with anticipation. She never thought she was missing it, yet, it was the only plausible explanation to explain the rush she was feeling as she was tightly engulfed by the latex. Less nervous but a lot more anxious, she managed to feed her arms into the suit.

She closed her eyes while rubbing the sleek rubber over her body, feeling it and at the same time, not feeling the touch. Feeling the pressure. Her breath got faster. She quickly became horny and reached for the crotch, to find the latex pouches.

“Later, Karen.” she said, biting her lips, almost stunned at what she had just did, thought and felt.

She pulled the latex hood over her head, welcoming its embrace. She liked how the stretchy membrane clung around her nose, her cheeks, her jaw. She liked the tight feeling she had when she pulled the yoke down, feeding it under the neck of the suit.

“How are you doing in there?” she heard Sandra’s voice.

Karen opened the door.

“Just needing a hand with the collar.” she said, turning around, showing the bulge the yoke had made.

“Yeah, it’s always the problem. There. Fixed. Turn around.” she said as she grabbed the leather corset and wrapped it around Karen’s waist, “and here. Read this while I tighten it.” she said, handing her some papers.

Karen began to read. Some things she was okay with, others less. Once she was out of breath and the corset fully tightened, she went over it with Sandra.

“I want it to be for this weekend, renewable for one weekend at a time, up to 12 weekends. I will advise you Sunday if I’m to make it next week. Would that give you enough time to fill the spot?” explained Karen.

“Honestly Karen, if it was easy to fill any spot I wouldn’t have begged you to come, but I understand your point and I will agree with it and manage it. It gives me a week of heads up, heck of a lot better than what Lynda used to give..”

Then Karen had a few questions about the points.

“You said on the phone that I can reach 1000 points, 500 being paid and 500 being used for pleasure. What happens if I go over 1000?”

“They are banked and could be used when the night doesn’t go so well. It happens.”

“Hum… Okay, ‘makes sense.” she said, browsing it one last time to make sure she didn’t forget anything and signed it.

“Perfect,” said Sandra. “Now, into the ballet boots.”

Within a few minutes, Karen was back into her full outfit. She still had problems with the large and long inflatable gag. She would have gone without it, but the rest of the outfit was simply… lovable?

As soon as she set foot in the dining area, her dildo vibed four times. Already four tables were ready to order. What puzzled her is that some of those tables were not hers. What the hell?

She hurried up, hitting the maximum length of her hobble chains a few times. Strange but she sort of… liked it. Yes, wearing a helmet, having your arms tied in your back is bondage already, but fixed bondage, always the same, as feeling your legs free until they are not is different: you get reminded that you are not free.

She took the order. While she was at the bar getting filled more tables called in. As she walked back, she noticed that they were only two drones out of the five that were there the last time. She hurried, hitting the limits of her chains many times, making her tray jerk and the drinks spill some of their contents.

She got nasty looks from the waitress as she apologized to the customers. After one of them took the drinks, she felt a sharp pain on her butt. She turned around only to quickly see one of the waitresses walk away, holding a pen or something sharp. A syringe? What the hell was going on here? She did not sign for that.

She forgo the next orders and walked straight to Sandra in the back room, pointing with her bound hands toward her butt and mimicking being poked at.

“What… yeah, I see some stain, like pen ink.” said Sandra, but did not seem outraged. “Well, you did spill quite a lot of drinks and you got low or negative points for that, right? It’s the way the waitresses give the drones some feedback. Just be careful.”

Karen tried to gesture “what the fuck? Why? It’s my points.”

Then, a light bulb seemed to light up inside Sandra’s brain.

“Oh shit! You never had the proper intro, the proper base training. You were just dumped in. Damn Phil. It was his job. Oh well, I’m sorry. See, the points you receive are the points ALL personnel receive. However, their points don’t translate into rewards, just money. So when you lose points because you’re careless, THEY are also losing money.”

Karen reacted as if she had just received a divine revelation.

“Yeah, my bad, or rather Phil. Just be slow and clean rather than fast and sloppy.” Now back to work or you’ll have even lower points. Oh and I’m sorry I didn’t have time to brief you: Cindy called to inform me that she would be half an hour late, Kim called in sick and I can’t reach Samantha. All that happened between when I called you and when you came in. So, yes, you’re two drones, you and Emma, instead of five, although a third one is on the way. Do your best, Karen.” she said, slapping hard Karen on her butt, jolting her toys.

“That was actually kind of good,” thought Karen as she walked back to the dining room floor.

She walked slower, taking more care of serving the drinks full rather than fast. The points increased and she saw Sandra grabbing and talking to the waitresses while pointing at her, and the waitresses eased on pen poking.

It was nonetheless very hard to keep up. Eventually, Cindy came in and Samantha finally showed up, under the influence of something and was sent back, leaving three drones to do the job of five.

By the end of the evening, she had amassed 840 points! Yeah, she would get $500 and 350 points worth of pleasure. She was eager to see what it could bring her.

Sandra led her to the dungeon and unlinked her wrists.

“So, which one?” asked Sandra.

Karen just stood there for a moment, then raised her shoulders and her hand in a “I don’t fucking know” gesture.

“Uh, right. Silly me. You don’t know any of the equipment” said Sandra. “Hum… let’s see. What do you prefer? Suspension, stretched out, inverted, total immobilization, whipping, fucking…” she said, looking at Karen who was still motionless.

Hell, what does she know? Less than a week ago the only kinky affinities she knew of was her lever holding her down, and now she discovered that she liked being tied up, engulfed in rubber and wearing ballet boots. How the heck is she supposed to know what she would like?

While she was making her mind, one of the Drones came in and stood by the X-frame.

“Just think about it while I fix Emma,” said Sandra, leaving Karen.

Emma was spread on the cross, arms high. Chains were linked to her wrists and one to the screwed eye-bolt on her helmet while her ankles were linked to D rings by the footrests. Sandra operated some sort of electric winch which pulled on the wrists cuffs, stretching her hard. Once she couldn’t move, Sandra tightened, using her whole body weight, straps below and over the knees, at the upper thigh, waist, chest, lower and upper arms. She reached to flip a switch and the cross slowly started to rotate, about one turn every minute.

She could hear her moan. Evidently, the toys came alive! Sandra walked back to Karen.

“Of course, Cindy doesn’t have much point, getting in late, so… what will you have?”

Karen’s mind was still not set. She gestured at everything, then pointed at Sandra then back at everything.

“What would I have? It really depends on my mood. In your place, I would have been pissed off from running like crazy all evening and would want to relax, so I would choose the table. You can get a nice rest since you’re laying on your back, but it’s what I would… uh, okay. Table it is.” said Sandra as Karen had already walked to the table to examine it.

Its surface was covered with straps, evidently to secure someone down without much freedom to move. 

Her breath shaking under her drone helmet, she laid down and Sandra proceeded with the tightening of the straps. There was a lot of them: ankles, calf, below the knee, over the knee, mid thigh, upper thigh, hip, waist, below the breast, over the breast, wrist, forearm, upper arm, shoulder, neck and even one for the helmet itself in addition of being pulled down from the screwed-on eyebolt.

Although short, Sandra tightened all the straps with all her strength, often putting a knee on the side of the bed to have more grip.

Karen could feel her body being relentlessly tied up, tighter and tighter, becoming more and more restrained. She liked it. No, she loved it. The less she was able to move, themore aroused she was becoming, and the toys were still silent.

“All fine? Ready?” asked Sandra.

Karen nodded yes.

“Karen?You hear me? Ready? Give me a thumbs up. If you nod your head, I can’t see it move.”

Karen gave her two thumbs up, realizing the stupidity of her nodding. The only thing she could move was her fingers.

She closed her eyes and waited. She was seeing bright lights move. Puzzled, she opened her eyes to see… a vast prairie, birds flying. She was one of those birds, flying. She was hearing them sing, call one another. She was hearing the leaves, the grass whistling the wind.

That was unexpected. And relaxing. After a few moments of this, she was not feeling her bonds anymore. She was simply laying down, taking a nap. It was late and she was indeed exhausted by her work. She felt herself fly away, sleep… 

The first jolt made her twitch and she immediately felt restrained. Another jolt. She tried to move her hips but to no avail. Raise her legs: no way. Turn her head: you’re kidding, right?

Yet, in her eyes, she was seeing those vast plains, those mountains, the sea, she was hearing the birds, the wind, the waves. But each time she tried to move, she was reminded that she was tightly held down on that bondage table.

Contrasts: freedom VS total immobilization. 

The dance of the intruders began, one then the other, in turn, in unison, pulsating, vibrating, jerking, same pattern, different patterns.

She closed her eyes and let herself be engulfed by the intense teasing, the intense arousal, but through her eyelids, she could ‘see’ the scenery of freedom, while being totally unable to move, to get away from the teasing.

The orgasm was building, and fast. She was panting, her heart was beating. Her brain was no longer registering the images. It was seeing colors, bright, changing, dancing while her crotch was getting ignited.

The fire burned, she launched, an orgasm like she never experienced before. She thought that what she lived the prior week was awesome, she was in for a shock.

Her body was shaking but it was firmly held down by the dozens of straps tightly fastened by Sandra. She apparently knew what would happen.

It was so weird to experience such an orgasm all tied up, yet it seemed to enhance the orgasm, to make it stronger. She wanted to be tied up, restrained.

She felt her brain melt and run down through her ears with the song of the birds, the the sound of the wind, with the crash of the waves.

Everything fades down, away, coming down to silence, to nothing.

She was startled. She was apparently still laying on the table, but all the straps were removed and her helmet had been taken off. She blinked a few times. Around her, Sandra, Phil, Emma, Cindy, the barman and the waitresses, all looking puzzled and relieved at the same time.

“What… what’s wrong?” she managed to say with a faint voice.

“Seriously? You were jerking so much on the table that you moved it almost a meter! I thought the straps were going to rip off, then you became totally numb. I thought you had died or something. Are you alright?” asked Sandra.

“Fuck! That was intense.” said Emma.

Karen giggled.

“Yeah… I think ‘intense’ is the word. Never felt anything like this before. Did I pass out or something?”

“Hell yeah! We never saw anything like this before.” said Cindy, “and I’ve been here for three years! Fuck, girl, you scared the shit our of us.”

“Oh… sorry… I didn’t break anything, didn’t I?” she said, getting up and sitting on the edge of the table, now very close to some sort of bench.

“No.” said Phil, “but I’ll have to screw that table down if you’re to use it again.”

“Honestly…” slowly said Sandra, “judging by the reaction she had when she was simply hung up and this one, I think you need to secure ALL the furniture down. No matter which one she’ll take, she will literally hop around with it.” she said, serious, then laughing.

Karen slid off the table but her legs let go and she was grabbed at the last minute by Emma.

“Careful, girl. Give time for your legs and your brain to fire up again.” she said. “You’re gonna be okay? Need help to go to the changing room?”

“Uh… I think I’ll be fine. Thank you, Emma.”

She reached the changing booth, then tried to get her hands through the collar to take off the hood, to remove the suit, but she could barely get her hands in.

“The hell with it.” she said, walking out of the booth.

“Where are you going? You’re still in latex.”

“Yeah, and I’m just too tired, too weak to take it off. Since I’m coming back tomorrow, I’ll keep it on. See you later.” she said, stumbling forward, getting a hold of the wall to reach the exit door. “Fuck… my purse.” she said, turning around, but Sandra was there, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to the main area, and having her sit on a stool.

“You’re not driving back. I’ll call you a rideshare or a cab, whatever.” she said as she was gathering Karen’s items and putting it into a fabric shopping bag. “Wait here.”

Some time later, after a puzzled rideshare driver let her by her apartment, she let herself drop on the bed and fell asleep.

She was hearing noises. Banging noises. She opened her eyes to close them right off. Some bright lights were shining on them. More banging noise.

“Karen! Open up! It’s me, Sandra.”

“Whut?” she managed to say, her face resting on a pool of drool. She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting for the bright sunlight entering the bedroom. She moved her arms to push herself up. It felt weird. That’s when she realized she was still fully enclosed in latex. She giggled.

She got up and walked to the door with unsteady steps, her brain not even registering that she still had the ballet boots on. She opened the door.

“You look like shit!” said Sandra, laughing. “Can I come in?” she asked, raising her hand at eye level and dangling a key ring on her finger.

“Yeah… what are those for?” asked Karen, then she followed Sandra’s eyes down to her waist.

“No shit!” she exclaimed, realizing that she was still locked in the corset with the chastity belt. “I’ll be damned! I’m sorry. I didn’t want to steal anything or something.” she quickly said.

“It’s alright.” said Sandra, and it’s only then that Karen realized that Sandra was wearing a red latex dress. She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, you like latex or you don’t. Apparently, you like it. And your steel too.” she added.

“More than you?” asked Karen while working the key in the lock of the belt.

Sandra didn’t say a word. She simply raised her dress to show the belt.

“Ah. That explains the lump at the waist.” said Karen. “Ooooww.” she grunted, as the toys were getting removed.

She walked to the restroom and removed the attached slip / pouches so that she could relieve herself. She let out a long sigh. Sandra was waiting in the living room.

“Need help getting the corset and the suit off, Karen?”

“What?… err… No. As I said… fuck, what time is it? Past 14:00 already?? Shit! I’ll be back at the lounge in a few hours, so the hassle of taking it off and putting it back on… no, I’ll just keep it on, if you don’t mind.” she said, walking back out from the restroom.

“Hey, I’m not the one to tell you not to wear latex.” said Sandra, giggling. “Okay, then see you tonight. Don’t forget to put the belt and the toys back on, or to bring it in a bag so you don’t draw too much attention with it.” she said with a wink.

“Yeah… I’ll think about it.” said Karen, closing the door behind Sandra.

She turned around and walked to the bedroom, glancing at herself from head to toe, admiring this really slim body in shiny black rubber. A finger quickly reached her crotch. She bit her lower hip.

“Really, Karen? You are nothing but a little pervert.” she said, smiling.

About half an hour before she was due at the mansion, she showed up. Sandra was already there in her red catsuit, helping the other drones. They were full staffed for the night, which meant that she might get less tips.

“I was beginning to worry. You’re almost late.” said Sandra while tightening Emma’s corset.

“Oh, there was no rush, I mean I don’t need to change or anything.”

“Don’t tell me you kept it on since last night?” asked the puzzled Emma, staring at Karen in full latex, corset, chastity belt and ballet heels.

“Yeah, why not? And I had fun this afternoon.”

“So, you already… pumped yourself at home?” asked Cindy, getting out of the changing booth and winking at Karen.

“What? No. I went for a tour.”

“A tour?” asked Sandra, puzzled.

“Yeah, you know, I went to the old pier, then had a walk at the botanical garden, ending at the zoo, you know, a tour.”

They all stopped what they were doing.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Ha, ha. No. Here, look. People were eager to take pictures.” she said, showing her phone at the places she described, in full latex gear.

“But… aren’t you afraid that someone would recognize you?”

“Who and how? All they can see is my eyes, and I was wearing sunglasses.” said Karen giggling. “I had a ball, and I will do it again.” she said.

“Okay.” said Sandra, “time for you to shut up. You’ll give us details later.” she said, producing the drone helmet.

The evening went on without a hitch and she received a good overall tip. 

She came out of the changing booth, skin wrinkly and pink, rubbing her thighs.

“Geesh. That latex wreaks havoc on your skin.” she said, looking at her wrinkled fingertips.

“Yeah, rubber does that, or rather, the lack of air does that. It’s like spending a long time in a pool.”

“Sucks… I feel sort of… naked.” she said, touching her skin.

“Really? Well, you might want to get a suit for yourself, you know, for at home.” said Emma.

“Yeah, right. An hour of commuting in the morning, another at the end of the day, plus time to put it on, take it off, clean it, shower, etc. Too much of a hassle. If they ever make one you can wear all the time, tho, tell me.” she said, waiving them goodbye and heading home.

“Just keep it for the day!!” She heard Cindy yell as the door closed. She quickly grabbed it and turned around.

“Yeah, right. I work for a law firm. I spend days in archive rooms and at City Hall, the courthouse, assisting the lawyers. I can’t wear anything like that for work.” she said.

“How come? You wear short skirts all the time?”

“What, no. I have pants and blouses and jackets and stuff.”

“Then hide it under your clothes. Nobody will know.” said Cindy with a wink.

“You… you do it?”

“Some days, yes.”

“And?…”

“Awesome!!”

Karen went her way, getting in the rideshare waiting for her. Once in, she took her phone and made a few searches for neck entry catsuits.

“Shit, those things are expensive!” she said, realizing that she might have to work a few nights just to pay herself one, with the hood, gloves, socks, corset. “And better forget about those.” she said when she saw the prices of chastity belt.

She put her phone down. Her fantasy world was fading away.

She didn’t even know how she got there, but there she was, spread eagle on a large table, arms and legs stretched almost to the breaking point. Her mouth was stuffed with something large and long. She could only produce some low level grunting.

Someone was over her, between her legs. She tried to look but her vision was blurry. She couldn’t even figure out if it was a man or a woman. She felt something being pushed in her vagina. Something large, long and moving. Like alive, like a snake or something.

But it felt good. Damn good! Especially when the snake began to squirm, to vibrate. Whoever was manipulating that snake, was pushing it in, pulling it out. She was trying to move, to change her position because she wanted it to brush against that side, or go this way, but she was so restrained that she couldn’t move her legs, nor her hips. She felt tugs at her hips every time she tried, some chains were linked there, rendering unable to fight, or enhance.

The stroking got faster. The vibration got stronger. She tried to raise her head only to be yanked back by some other chain linking to a strap over the top of her head, pinning it down. The more the struggled, the stronger the snake moved. She was getting worked out pretty good. She liked it. The orgasm was building. Yes, that would be wonderful. She wanted more.

Suddenly a bunch of hands began to dance on her, on her arms, her chest, her thighs, her legs. All these little touches were arousing, like hundreds of little critters walking on her. Wait. She didn’t see anyone. What were those hands?

The vibrating plug took her mind out of its insecurity and jolted her one notch higher, closer to the orgasm. The more she was pulling on her bounds, the more powerful it was becoming. Yes, that’s it! She’s exploding now.

Damn! False alarm, but she was so close. This was so frustrating that it was good, pleasurable. The orgasm built again, higher and higher. She was there, ready to explode, reaching the edge… staying on the edge. She tried to jump, to explode, but somehow, it was as if some strange force was holding her back.

“Hello, people of the City. It’s 06:00 on this beautiful Monday morning…”

She opened her eyes. She was laying on her bed, the bed sheets scattered on the floor. She was spread eagle, her hands grasping the headboard. Her brain was slowly coming back, feeling the remnant of the pleasure she almost got.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked nobody, staring at the ceiling, panting..

Her mind half-way between a dream and reality, she got up, almost falling down as she was expecting to be standing on her toes instead of flat on her foot.

“The hell???” she said, as she regained her balance.

She stumbled to the bathroom where she splashed her face with some cold water. She looked at herself in the mirror. For a moment, she saw a face completely covered with latex, with only her eyes visible, and even those, were behind some sort of lens. And her face was difformed, like if she was wearing a mask or something. She turned her head sideways to figure out what she was seeing. She blinked. She saw her face. Her normal Monday morning face.

She shook her head, trying to get some more blood or whatever was missing up-there. 

“I need a coffee. Nope. Stronger than that.”

She dressed up and commuted to work, a triple espresso from a coffee chain in her hand.

Her day at work was nothing else than ordinary. On a few occasions in the morning, she felt like she was seeing latex covered fingers. She grasped her waist a few times, like missing something. By the afternoon, all was back to normal. Whatever ‘normal’ is.

Once back home, she browsed the internet, searching for women in latex. And she found what she was looking for: women, totally enclosed, wearing helmets, gas masks, ballet heels, tied up, suspended, some even entering that strange vacuum bag. Photographs, 3-D renders and even stories depicting such adventures.

She looked at a few videos, her fingers reaching her crotch through her tight jeggings she had changed into when arriving home.

“You need to get something, Karen.” she said to herself, looking for on-line latex stores and of course, local ones.

At the end of the next day, she came home later than usual, her hands holding a large shopping bag. She put the bags on the floor by the door and collapsed on the sofa, letting out a big sigh, relaxing. Well, trying to. After a moment she was back up.

“Stop kidding yourself Karen. You’re not a good girl, you’re a pervert.” she said, taking the bag and heading for the bedroom, almost running.

She got out a few sex toys, namely vibrating dildos, and a pair of latex panties with sheaths. She got naked, took the provided lubricant and in no time, she was in them. She took place on the bed and gently inserted the intruder, biting her lower lip. It went in rather easily and she was eager to turn it on, but not now. She reached for the bag and got out a pack of 5mm cotton rope and a utility knife.

Fifteen minutes later, her feet were spread, rope going through newly installed rings on the foot of the bed. It was in fact, one long rope, going from one ankle, through one ring, then up to her wrist, down the other side through the ring and to her ankle. She put a simple ball gag in her mouth, fastening it at the back of her head, and then pulled her arms fully over her head, pulling on the ankle rope, spreading her legs, until she touched another ring to which was attached a carabiner.

“Pffeerppekt.” she mumbled through her gag.

She reached down to her side, which was not easy with both wrists tied together and pressed the remote switch.

She twitched as the dildo came to life, scanning through the different patterns. She tried to remember. Was it 25 or 55 patterns?

Anyways, she reached the ring over her head again and fondled it for a long time, getting frustrated at not being able to snap the carabiner to it. She had to look it up to figure out she was going at it the wrong way. She was, after all, ‘upside-down’ compared to where she was sitting looking at it.

She heard a click. She pulled on her wrist and they only moved by the small stretch of the rope.

She closed her eyes and let herself live the moment.

She loved it. She tried to close her legs but couldn’t. Bringing her arms down was impossible. Even the gag in her mouth ws arousing. She was not in control. The dildo was firing HIS patterns, not her choices.

She let herself drift into a universe of pleasure, which quickly built, filling her mind with colorful flowers or whatever that was. The wave came, intense. Yes. She exploded. Her crotch was on fire and the fire was getting maintained simply by pulling on her rops, simply by feeling the restraints. Damn, she wished she would not feel the bed sheets about the latex of her drone skin. She imagined she was wearing it. She imagines she was locked inside the helmet, unable to speak, unable to see but the images projected in the visor. She was feeling her feet extended, pointing, forced into those dreadful, but so enjoyable ballet boots.

She exploded, pulling on her ropes, feeling the bed creak and then…

A loud bang, some cracking. She felt she was falling down, then quickly hit a stop, quite hard. She opened her eyes only to see something heavy heading for her head. She turned it sideway.

It hit heavy but not hard.

“Ooogfhhf… Kwaak  khe kfghhook?” she mumbled through her gag, trying to free her wrists but somehow, everything was off.

She opened her eyes and giggled. Yeah, she broke her bed!

After a few minutes of struggling, she was free and standing by the side of the debris of what was her bed.

“Well, looks like you’re sleeping on the floor tonight, Karen.” she said, still giggling. “Now I understand when they say that the bondage furniture is moving when I’m on it.”

She was just disappointed that now, she had no way to tie herself up.

Next Friday Evening.

The whole gang was laughing as she recalled the events.

“I don’t think any regular bed will resist your orgasm, Karen. I never saw anything like that.” said Emma.

“Yeah, you should invest into a dungeon bed, you know, those made out of timber with heavy rings. But they cost a fortune.” said Sandra.

Karen laughed it off, but the thought remained.

“Speaking of bondage bed, I have to decide what I’ll ride tonight. Just in case.” she said, heading for the dungeon.

“Well,” said Sandra, who had followed her “the fucking horse is the most powerful one, but you have to reach 500 points for it.”

“Really? What does it do?”

“Well, your knees go here and hour head and hands in the stock plan,” she said, showing the devices, “and then this thing here connects to your plugs. They will pull and push the plugs while they vibrate.”

“Oh. Interesting,” said Karen. “I… I have one question tho. Do I have to keep the helmet?”

“No, of course not. It’s your choice, your pleasure. You do it your way.”

“Good. That’s how I want it, then.”

“Yeah, right. Like you know you’re gonna hit 500.”

“Wanna bet?”

Karen seemed so sure of herself that Sandra didn’t follow on the bid.

Less than an hour later, they were on the floor, serving customers. Karen was happy to meet her latex skin again, the corset, the boots, the gag, the helmet, the restraints. She loved everything and it felt like having a piece of chocolate after a long time.

She had been called on table 7 where two regulars just seated.

“Okay, I’ll take a whisky on the rocks, and what about you, Dennis?” he asked the bald man.

“Geesh, I don’t really know. Nothing rings a bell… What do you suggest?” he asked, looking at Karen. 

“Dennis. You know she can’t talk. What are you expecting?”

“Oh right. Tough week, sorry. Well, I have no idea. I’ve had about everything on that menu.” he said, while browsing the menu from the tablet available at each table. Okay, I have an idea. A challenge for you. One-hundred points if you bring me something I never tasted before. Otherwise, zero. How about that?”

Karen stayed of ice. She looked at her waitress who was passing by and who was nodding a small ‘no, don’t do it’, as if he had played that prank before and she lost.

She stood there for a few moments, browsing the menu, then started to select things before nodding yes and walking away.

When she got to the bar, after taking two more orders from different tables, the barman was staring at her.

“What the fuck is that, Karen? I never made this thing before, hell, I never saw those things mixed together in my life! Did Dennis order this?”

Karen nodded no.

“Then why… Oh it’s his get-me-something-I-never-had-before prank, right? You came out with this mix?”

She nodded yes, twice.

“Alright, it’s your tip you’re throwing away. Generally we say no, but… here you go.” he said, handing the drink in her tray.

She walked to the table, her latex creaking, feeling the intruders move inside her, enjoying every struggling step she made, and stopped by the table, waiting for the waitress to serve the drinks. Dennis took it, looked at it puzzled and took a sip.

He made a grin, looking again at the glass, at its content, then at Karen.

“What in the world the fuck is that thing?” he asked, wide eyes.

Karen stood still. Her heart stopped and her waitress stared at her in shock.

“What do you call this?” he said, almost shoving the glass at Karen’s face.

“Dennis, she can’t talk, remember?”

“Fuck! HEY BARMAN!! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU CALL THAT GLASS OF PISS??” he yelled, getting up.

“I don’t know, Dennis. Never made that drink before. Karen… Err. Drone4 gave me the recipe and I made it. If you don’t like it I won’t charge you for it and I’ll make sure any tip will be drawn back.” answered the barman, sending stinky eyes to Karen.

“Who the hell said I didn’t like it? Are you fucking nuts?? THAT’S THE BEST GLASS OF PISS I EVER HAD!!” You got to taste this, Brad.” he said, shoving the glass to his friend’s face.

“Hey, I’m not about to drink from your glass.” answered the man, pushing it away.

“Oy, you’re right, mate. I wouldn’t want to lose any of that drink on you. Oh man, you don’t know what you’re missing.” he said, taking a large gulp. “HOW DID YOU SAY IT WAS CALLED AGAIN?” he yelled back at the barman.

“I told you, Dennis. I don’t know. Never did that mix before.”

“Then I’m calling you the… the… Foxy-4, for this bar and for the drone. And I want another one for me, and one for Brad… hell, I want everybody to have one. My treat!” he said, raising his glass before taking another gulp.

Karen’s waitress changed for a smile as Dennis kept his promise, took the pad and gave 100 points. Soon, everyone was giving between 10 and 20 points. They didn’t have to pay for the drink so they gave it all as tips.

Karen was bringing glasses after glasses of the drink to the tables, people were ordering a second even a third serving. Suddenly, she saw 100 points being added. She looked and it was from table 6. That puzzled Karen since table six was empty. She turned around and had just time to see Sandra putting down the tablet and walking away while furtively looking at Karen.

At the end of the evening, Karen couldn’t believe the numbers: 1246 points!!

“Well, Karen,” said Sandra as she was unclipping the helmet, “you did it. You went over 1000 points! Congrats!!” she said as Karen spit out a pool of drool.

“Thanks, Sandra. I think.”

“Hell, I priced this thing 50% higher than our most expensive mix and it was still selling like hot cakes! Where did you learn this mix? I hope I’m not infringing on some other bar’s copyright.” she said with a stern look.

“If you are, I would be the first to know. It always amazed me how people never mixed those together. In my mind it would pop on one’s mouth, with a strong flavor and a fruity aftertaste that makes you want more.”

“Yeah, I looked at the recipe, and I was like ‘it’s like putting pineapple on a pizza’. But it is surprisingly good! Good call. Do you still want to get on the fucking horse?”

“You bet I want.” she said, happily hopping her way to the bench and carefully stepping on it.

Sandra, helped with Emma, secured Karen in place and screwed the rods on Karen’s toys through holes in the chastity belt.

“I want to see this.” said Emma, taking a few steps back.

“Okay, ready Karen? Here we go.”

Karen closed her eyes. At first, there was nothing, like if the computer that was controlling all of it was simply syncing or booting or something. Then there was a small vibration. Gentle, alternating from the vaginal to the butt probes. Then the vibration stopped and one probe pushed forward. And pushed. And pushed. Karen was starting to have wide eyes, then it retracted, again and again, until it was so out that it began to pull on her belt. Then the other repeated the same process. It seemed like the device was figuring out its maximum travel distance or something.

Then they began to dance, pulling out, pushing in, sometimes deeper, sometimes not, sometimes together, sometimes inverted and other times, completely out of sync. Then the vibration started.

Already, Karen was hot and very well aroused.

The vibrations, the twisting, the faint zapping, the pushing and pulling was literally fucking her brain out. She tried to fight it, but she was just too well secured. Nothing could move away or closer to those devilish rods, and the more she fought, the more she tried to get free, the more aroused she became.

She was moaning, louder and louder. She was on the verge of climaxing, and was literally screaming her lungs out. Giggling, Emma put her hand over her mouth to try to silence her.

“Damn, you’re loud!! You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood.” she said, clamping her hand tight over Karen’s mouth.

Without realizing it, she had blocked Karen’s breathing.

It was like a shock, a revelation, a fuse getting lit up. Her eyes rolled backward and she exploded, her body taken over by strong convulsions. Emma was trying to follow her head, to keep her shut, and all it did was allow Karen to breath before blocking her air again, creating another sub-orgasm, amplifying the main one.

Karen’s brain was getting fried with hormones. She couldn’t hear, she couldn’t even control her body who was responding to every stimulus, every push, pull, vibration, every feeling of the restraints into more powerful pleasure waves.

Her rectal probe felt silent, and that denial triggered another orgasm, amplified when her vaginal one also died, triggering the last orgasm as she slowly calmed down, lowering her heartbeat, calming her breathing. Emma had removed her hand.

“Well, you did it, Karen. You broke that one too.” said Sandra.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she managed to say, half there, half away.

Sandra and Emma were looking at the bench in disbelief. It has moved over a meter. Both rods laid in mid air, half the mechanism of the inside of the dildos still attached to their tip. One leg holder was half ripped off from the frame.

“Shit! At this rate, we will be out of bondage furniture within a few weeks!” said Sandra.

“Sorry…” said Karen, eyes closed, smiling, falling asleep, still fully fixed on the horse.

She woke up in her own bed, with the sun high and bright, not even knowing how she got back home. A move of the hips and she realized that the toys were still there. Smiling and slightly moaning, she reached for them with her hand, only to be stopped by the chastity belt.

She frowned and that woke her up fully. She realized that she was still in full drone gear, except for the helmet, and very well locked in. She let herself drop on her back, smiling, taking a deep breath. She just loved it.

A few moments later, she got up, not even realizing she was standing on her toes, and headed for the kitchen. She needed a coffee. A very strong coffee.

She liked the sound the suit was making as her legs brushed against each other as she walked to the kitchen. When she turned her head, she felt the light restriction caused by the latex hood pulling on her neck. She liked it.

She walked to the balcony of her apartment located on the second floor of that two storey high house, and sat in the chair in the late morning sun, looked around, getting a hold of the guard rail, looking down at the street, looking up at the other balconies across the street, then sat down on her little chair, putting the hot cup on a nearby glass table.

She moaned. That chair was low when she was barefooted. With her ballet boots, her knees were getting quite high, which could be felt by the movements of her toys, her hips reaching the limit of the chastity belt. She stretched her legs until her feet touched the metal guard rail, resting her heels against the bottom horizontal bar.

The sun was hitting her suit. She could feel the heat of it on her shiny black skin. That was a weird feeling. It was almost burning.

She could feel there was some calm wind. She could feel the weak air flow push fromf it on her body, how it calmed down the burning sensation where the sun was hitting her black skin, but she couldn’t feel the air itself. She was feeling and at the same time, not feeling.

She stretched her arm to grab the cup, the rubber squeaking, and brought it to her lips, admiring the view of her rubber covered arm, the shine, the look, how her fingers seemed artificial, like… like… like if she was a doll. A rubber doll.

The sun was quickly heating her and within a few minutes, it had become almost unbearable. She felt she was sweating a lot, which created a thin film of lubricant, but also insulation between her hot latex skin and her own flesh.

She got up and leaned against the guard rail. Someone down on the sidewalk from the other side of the street happened to walk by and looked at her, making a double take. Karen smiled and waved him hello. He responded, puzzled at what he was seeing.

She stood there for a moment before getting back inside. It was just too hot.

“Perhaps in a white catsuit or something.” she thought. As she was back inside, she sort of missed the hot sun rays. “Perhaps just a little bit of shade would be fine. I’ll have to look into that.”

She spent the afternoon alternating between being cooked out by the sun or cooling down inside her home, and it was time to go back to… should she call it work? Again, she departed way too early and she had to kill some time by walking around in different parks of the city, always drawing attention. Some wanted to take pictures, other simply wanted to touch. A lot of questions. Two answers:’latex’, and ’yes I like it’.

She finally entered the back room of the lounge. Sandra was there, tightening Emma’s corset and looked at her coming in in full gear and smiled.

“Hello Karen. How are you doing?”

“Quit fine, Sandra. Thank you. I don’t remember leaving this place. Isn’t that weird?” said Karen.

“I don’t doubt it, Karen. You looked like you were stone cold. Your body was awake but your brain was asleep or whatever it was doing, just floating on a sea of pleasure, perhaps. We, Emma and myself, accompanied you to your place. You even unlocked the door yourself, and we put you in your bed.” explained Sandra.

“Wow… Thank you, girls.” she said, glancing at Emma who answered with a slight bow. “I should find a way to repay you.”

“Repay us? Why? It’s we who owe you.” said Cindy.

“I… I don’t understand.” said Karen.

“Your drink last night, that Foxy-4, we got tipped like there was no tomorrow. Everybody went over a thousand points. We owe you, Karen.” she said with a wink.

“Uh.. really, well… Thank you.”

“Honestly,” said Sandra, “If you have any silly ideas like that… go ahead!” she said, laughing. “Uh, oh! I was forgetting. Do you have any idea which device you intend to take tonight? Because I would want Phil to, you know, make it Karen-Proof before you get on it.” she said with a wink. “Although I doubt we have all the reinforced steel we would need…”

“What? Oh… yeah. I think I damaged it a little right?”

“Damage it? You destroyed it!!” said Emma, smiling.

“Well… sorry… Anyway, I get the pleasure Fridays and the money Saturdays, so today, it’s money. The device is gonna be next week… I think.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. The cruise.” said Sandra.

“Yes… The… cruise.” mumbled back Karen, slightly rubbing her rubber covered arm with her gloved fingers.

“In that case, that would give me a week to fix it. Which one will it be?” asked Sandra, although she noticed Karen’s reaction.

“I really don’t know. Can you suggest one that I wouldn’t… break?”

“Yeah,” said Emma, “the vacbed. You will never be able to break that thing.”

“I agree with you, Emma. But I’m not taking any chances. I’ll make sure it won’t fly off the table.” said Sandra witn a wink.

“So, the… vacbed it will be,” said Karen, smiling.

The evening went like a blast. Foxy-4 was the main drink ordered, which made everybody happy, with lots and lots of tips.

Again, she felt a void when she was taken out of the suit, out of the corset, out of the chastity belt, out of the hood. Something was missing.

 Monday after work, she stopped by a local fetish shop and she bought herself a latex bodysuit with long sleeves. Why not? She could try a stunt.

The next day, fully dressed, she looked in the mirror, turning on every side. She could somewhat see it but she doubted that the casual observer could spot the latex bodysuit she had under her blouse and business jacket. She looked at her legs, at her knee-length skirt and she figured that, with the right pants, she could perhaps wear a full catsuit! She would get to order one, tho. She needed more money. Perhaps skipping Friday’s pleasure session.

The day went like a breeze. Almost. She was anxious, trying to detect, to read people’s mind if they were noticing her odd bodysuit, but she couldn’t figure out if someone actually caught it or not. Nonetheless, it was a stressful day, too stressful for her to decide to redo the stunt the next day.

The rest of the week was filled with latex thoughts and kinky dreams… still sleeping on the mattress directly on the floor.

Friday night, back to the Foxy Lounge, taking her shift. The table of regular guys, the one who ordered the first ever Foxy-4. She expected him to order the same thing, but he surprised her.

“Okay, Drone-4, surprise me again.” he said with a wink.

Karen was stunned. Yes, she had a few more ideas, but what if it was a disaster? She walked back to the barman and began her instructions, making weird faces. He put the glass down on Karen’s tray and she delivered it. The man took a sip, made a grin then a smile.

“Wow! That is coarse!!  HEY BARMAN! LET ME GUESS. NO NAME FOR THIS THING AGAIN?”

“Actually, yes, I thought about one.” he answered back. “FoxyHammer! A little twist on a Jackhammer.”

“OH, PERFECT!” he yelled back. “A FULL ROUND ON ME!”.

So, again, that evening was a blast and very rewarding. 

“The vacbed is ready for you.” Said Sandra once Karen’s helmet was removed and the elbow tie freed.

“Oh… Wow. Thanks.” said Karen, as if she was ashamed, “But… I will pass. I’ll take the money. A few items to buy just sort of… added themselves to the pile, and money will be nice.” she said, rubbing her latex arm, not even aware she was doing it.

“Uh, okay. Money it is. Yeah, right, you need a new bed.” she said laughing. “You… you want to take it off or you want to keep it until tomorrow?” she said with a smirk pointing at the latex outfit, “nah, I’m kidding. You’re good to go. See you tomorrow.”

Karen left and went home. She slept in her full latex gear, ankles linked with police cuffs as well as her wrists, in her back. She had an agitated night. She was dreaming of a world where latex was the norm, where bondage was the way of life. She wasn’t living in her flat. She was part of a community of men and women all sealed in heavy rubber, their face covered by some gasmask or something like it. They were all heavily chained, but they all liked it, they all lived for it.

And at night, she would get into those pod-like boxes. The lid would close and she would be squeezed by some inflatable bladders until she couldn’t move. And then, the paycheck for the day would be.. Delivered. Their toys came alive, pulsating, vibrating, humping, squishing, stroking, everything that was wanted was there, from the squishing of the breasts to the electrical shocks. If one wanted it, he/she got it. It was the rewards, the paycheck.

Of course, there was punishment, but nobody wanted it. All wanted the rewards.

And Karen was one of those. She felt impaired, squeezed, totally unable to move as the toys played inside her. She felt her breasts getting squeezed, her crotch, her rectum being relentlessly tormented. She could feel the orgasm grow, getting bigger, stronger, and then her air was cut off. As she struggled to breath, it sent her orgasm on the edge and as soon as the air was let go again, everything exploded, filling her head with fireworks. She struggled inside her cocoon, unable to get free, unable to move.

But suddenly, she felt as if she was falling in the void, her dream disappeared, the fireworks vanished and she felt a sharp pain on her right shoulder, accompanied with a loud thud.

She opened her eyes. She was looking at the ceiling of her room, the bed sheets half fallen over her latex body. It took her a few moments to realize that she had just fallen out of her bed.

She assessed the damage: she was fine, but she was also in a crazy situation, with her wrists in her back and her ankles bound together.

She struggled to kneel, laying face down on the bed, moving her hips, banging the chastity belt against the frame of her bed, feeling each jolt through her toys.

She pushed herself up and finally ended on the bed, asleep, awake and aroused. Weird.

“You’re gonna have to add a lot more attachment points, Karen.” she said to herself as she tried to find sleep again. She succeeded. More or less.

The struggle to get the key to the next morning was just out of this world. Maybe leaving them on the dining table was a little too far. Nah. She would have to do that again, and make it more… difficult, and more secure.

Saturday evening at the Lounge was even more busy than usual. Her new dinks were attracting the crowd. Sandra couldn’t be more pleased.

“So, trying the vacbed tonight, then?” she asked Karen.

“Err, no, Sandra. I told you, I need the money, so I’ll take the money.”

“Yeah, I know, but you made the sales hit an all time high and actually brought more people in. Let’s say that it’s on the house. Come.” she said, opening the door of the dungeon.

There, in the middle of the room, a large table with what looked like sheets of latex inside a tubular frame.

“That’s a vacbed?” asked Karen. “Not very impressive.”

“Wait ‘till you’re in it.” said Emma.

“Don’t worry, it’s been reinforced. The usual PVC pipes have been replaced by steel tubes and I anchored that sun of a bitch on the table and the table itself has been screwed to the floor. No worries about breaking it.”

“I… Thank you, Sandra, but I don’t see what is so interesting about it. I mean, it’s just sheets of rubber.” said Karen.

“But when the vacuum is applied and you are sucked in, that’s when the fun begins. Come on, have a try. Let me help you.” she said, approaching some sort of stand to help her get into the vacbed by the narrow end.

Lubed as she was, it was relatively easy to slip inside the sleeping-bag like device. A special harness was fixed on her head, putting a tube down her mouth with a rubber flap all around to seal it. Said fla was also sealing her nose holes.

As she slid inside the rubber envelope, the breathing tube was aligned with a hole in the top latex sheet, then everything was closed.

“Okay, Karen. I will go easy, getting the vacuum out by small steps. If you want out, you just do the bacon dance… You squirm hard.” she said laughing. “Ready… Go.”

She heard the sound of air whistling out as the envelope, plugged to the industrial central vacuum cleaner was purged of its air. Rapidly, she felt the world around her collapse. She was pinned down, her head forced backward, all her body locked into the position she was when it first started.

She was calm and breathing regularly. That was actually a nice feeling.

She tried to move. She could. What kind of restraint is this? She pulled her arm up but it felt as if someone was holding it down, like some force field or something. As soon as she let go, it returned back to where it was, in the same position. She tried to move her legs, with the same effect. Her head? She could turn it to either side but it was reverting to its original position.

That thing was devilish. It gave her the impression she could move, that she could escape, but in fact, couldn’t. What a deception! She loved it!

She felt something touch her. Yes, it was a hand. It was strange. She could feel the fingers, even the heat emanating from the hand, but not the hand itself.

One hand, two hands, four hands, sliding along her body, going to her head, squishing her breasts, rubbing her thighs. Only her tightly corseted waist didn’t transmit the feeling, but the rest of her body did, especially her inner thighs. And especially when the toys came to life. Gentle. Just a soft vibration. A soft pulsation. The hands were doing the rest.

Then… wait what’s this? She could feel a cold spot. Yes, right on her shoulder, moving to her breast, reaching the nipple, literally freezing it. And she felt something drip off, from her nipple down to her shoulder, to her chest. Felt like a liquid. Oh shit, that was ice, and it was melting!

And now… something hot. Something hot has been applied to her other shoulder, getting to her nipple. She had one nipple freezing and one cooking!

She tried to move, to get away from it, but she couldn’t. She could only wiggle within the confine of the latex bag, giving a little play but taking it back as fast.

The cold and the hot spot moved down her chest where she lost them over her corset, they reappeared but… they have changed sides! What a strange feeling expecting something hot and getting cold, and vice versa. The hot and cold spots ran down her thighs, and played a little bit around her crotch, prevented to go too near the chastity belt.

She felt strange feelings, like centipedes as more stuff was dragged on her body. Something sharp was being rolled along her leg, from her feet to her waist.

Karen was squirming. She was hot, she was aroused and that was about it. This was just a constant tease, keeping her excited, but not letting her go orgasmic. That was devilish.

She felt something drop on her. It was hot. Really hot. Then something was dragged along that hot stuff, spreading it. Between her breasts, on her lower belly. She could also feel it on her stomach amidst the corset!

Something else was brushing her confinement. Something soft, hot. But the hands never stopped moving. Sometimes there was only one, but sometimes she counted six… or was it eight?

She could hear moaning, laughing, and grunting. And through her breathing hose, she was smelling something, hell almost tasting it. It was like… like…

Around the table where the body was well defined by the vacbed, a group of four women, Sandra, Emma, Cyndie and Kim were pouring BBQ sauce over her body, dipping french fries in it and also licking it out of the rubber woman form.

Karen was hot and ready to explode, but something was missing, some ignition. So far, it had a sensory overload ride, just feeling everything, but not seeing and only able to guess what was going on.

She felt something wipe her body, like a large towel, like to clean it. Was it over? That was it? She was ready to get out now, but she couldn’t communicate. She couldn’t even gesture. This is what they were afraid she would break by orgasming? Hell, she never came close to or…

The toys inside her came to life stronger. A lot stronger. Their pulsation, their vibration, twisting, humping were much stronger. Her breasts were getting squeezed. Oh yes, that was it. That will do it. Now she was ready. And then, something else was pressed against her chastity belt, increasing the vibrations on her toys. Oh, she was feeling her whole body tense with anticipation. That was so good! The toys, the feeling of the hands, the squishing on her breasts. She began to moan, louder and louder. The pitch higher and higher. She was about to jump off when her air was cut. Someone had put her hand over the breathing tube.

She struggled to breathe. She fought against the vacbed, trying to get free, to find some air. The more she struggled against the invisible force field, the more excited she became. She was gasping for air, she was panicking! And then, everything exploded.

As her breathing was restored, all the stress was released, all focused on her crotch. She could feel her body trying to fly off, restrained by the unforgiving rubber sheet. She could feel hands pressing down on her, like to keep it down, and the feeling of those hands made it even worse, or was it better, as her brain fused into a mass without form and without use than to send pleasure waves to every nerve termination of her body. Her whole skin, her entire body felt the wave of pleasure consuming her. She was screaming, but it wasn’t human. It was out of this world, like the orgasm she was living.

Everything seemed to fade away, to dissipate as her breathing calmed down, her heart sounded like it was actually having different pulses instead of a constant high, her muscles relaxing and everything turned off.

It took her a few moments to recognize her room. Again, they brought her back to her place. She giggled. That was becoming a habit. She felt she was in full gear, locked by the chastity belt.

She slowly turned on her side, feeling her latex coated legs slide on one another, bringing some pleasure, the toys slightly moving inside her, waist stiff, to look on the night table if the keys hadn’t been left there by Sandra or something, after all, it was Sunday and she needed to get out of it, but there was only a note. She took it.

 “Enjoy your week, dear. I’m out of town and I’m the only one with the keys. – Sandra ;-)”

Karen read it three times, each one getting more anxious. A week? A whole week? That would be nice if she didn’t have to go to work! She couldn’t go to work like that. She can call in sick for a day or two, but longer than that requires a doctor’s note for the insurance. Fuck.

She will have to ask for vacation, which has to be approved two weeks in advance. Fuck!

 And even if they are approved on such short notice, that will screw up her planned vacation later in the summer. Fuck!! 

She tried to enjoy her outfit for the day while searching how to get out of it or how to fix her work problem.

After a sleepless night, she figured she had two choices:

  • Try to get late minute holidays approved, which would not happen, not go to work and get fired, or
  • Go to work in latex, and get fired.

Either case, she was getting fired. She better try to save her job.

Carefully, she managed to remove the hood, thanks for the collar not being locked. Her hair was a mess but a quick wash fixed the problem. She put on a business suit with a high collar to hide the suit, and pants. Fortunately, Sandra removed the locks of the ankle cuffs, so she could take the ballet boots off. That would have been a hard sell.  She still had to hide the attached rubber socks. She had booties that would cover her up to the ankle. A little odd for the middle of the summer, but it will do. She could just say that she damaged her shoes and it was the only thing she had, or whatever.

Her latex-covered fingers were the problem, but her sleepless night had brought up a solution: she had worked, when she was a waitress, in an upscale restaurant where the servers had to wear white cotton gloves. She still has them. She could invent some skin condition to explain them. Yeah, this should work.

Nervous as hell, she took the public transport to work. She felt everybody was staring at her. Every time she looked at someone, he/she was looking back at her. It seems.

She waved hello to the receptionist, who frowned at her white gloves and headed for her cubicle where her work was waiting for her. She would have to go to City Hall then assist a lawyer at the courthouse in the afternoon. She just hoped things would go fine.

And it apparently did. However, on Tuesday morning, she was called into the big boss, the major partner’s office. It was a man in his forties, always well dressed, a perfectly pressed white shirt, a perfectly knotted tie, a dress jacket perfectly cut for his fit body. There wasn’t even a hair that dared to be out of place.

Nervous, she entered and he gestured to her to sit down. His office was surrounded by large windows, however the blinds looking to the staff were down, only the ones for the exterior were opened.

“How are you, Karen?” he asked, taking a relaxed stance on his leather chair.

“I’m fine, sir.” she answered, nervous, voice shaking. “W… What can I do for you?”

“It all depends. How do you feel working here?”

Was that a trick question? Was he looking to fire her? For what? Wearing gloves? Or did she goofed somewhere that she wasn’t aware of?

“I… I like it here, sir.”

“Yes, looking at your numbers and the comments from your coworkers you are well liked. But I mean, deep down. Wouldn’t you want another, say… life?”

“I… I’m not sure I’m following you, sir.” said Karen, puzzled.

“You have a rash on your hand, isn’t it?”

“Oh… Yes, sir. Something I caught at home, erm… euh… gardening.” She tried to make up.

“I see. Can I see it?”

“I… I rather not, sir.” said Karen, suddenly blushing trying to hide her hands.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can cope with the sight of those… rashes.” he said smiling. “Please.”

“I… I rather not, sir… Is… Is that all? Can I go back to work now? They will be waiting for me at the courthouse.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Karen. Someone else has already been assigned. I just want you to show me your hand.” he said, still with a very soft tone, nothing threatening, just insisting.

“I think that will be all Mr. Thompson. I’m not comfortable showing you my hands.” she said getting up, heading for the door. “I… we can discuss this with HR if you…”

“Karen stop and turned around!” he said. This time his tone was firm and commanding, followed by a softer “please…”.

She startled,  turned around and froze. He was still sitting on his chair. His tie has been pulled aside and a few buttons of his dress shirt were undone. He was pulling the opening, revealing a patch of shiny black latex.

Karen stood there, wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“Can I see your hands, now?” he asked again, very softly, smiling.

Hesitantly, Karen gently pulled on her cotton gloves, revealing two shiny black latex covered hands. Mr. Thompson sat back and smiled.

“What is all this about, Mr. Thompson?” asked a very puzzled Karen.

“You know my wife, right? She comes here from time to time.”

“Yes, I do, but…”

“And you also know my daughter.” he said, picking up his phone and turning it toward her

“Uh… no, sir. I never met your d…” she began to say, then looked at him with a stunned expression.

“Yeah, Sandra. She’s the manager of the Foxy Lounge. I believe you are familiar with the place?”

After a moment of hesitation, she realized that she had not much to hide: Sandra was her daughter, she was wearing latex, and he was wearing latex and… fuck, this was so weird.

“Yes, I’m familiar with that place. I… I can explain, sir…”

“No need to explain, Karen,” he said laughing, “Sandra told me everything about it. I honestly never thought you were THAT Karen. What I mean by that is that Sandra is very private about her personnel. She never told me Karen’s last name and where she worked. 

She told me about some Karen doing impressive drinks that were putting the Lounge back on the high map

We, well, SHE has an idea that requires someone special, and she told me that she pranked that Karen to wear her latex for a week and see how it would turn out, if she was the right person she was seeking.

Then, yesterday, I saw you with your cotton gloves and I was puzzled.  Your whole body was hidden, and I was thinking: is she the Karen Sandra is talking about?

Yesterday I sat besides you at the courthouse, remember? Well, as you now know, I know latex and I could smell it. Then I called Sandra and asked her, and she confirmed my suspicions.

And I’d say that you’re a good fit for her project.”

Karen was speechless. That was so much information all at once, she didn’t know what to think, where all of this was heading.

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

“Well, Sandra needs someone at the lounge every afternoon for odds and ends, cleaning and stuff, and, as a latex lover, she was looking for someone ready to spend many hours in latex and, well, some bondage, all week long, because that person would also be a drone for the kinky nights. Would you be interested in that job? You do like to wear latex all day long.” he said with a wink.

“Oh… Oh…I… and my job here?”

“Here’s what I suggest: you work here half a day, and after lunch, you go to the lounge until evening.”

“Uh… I… I don’t know, sir…”

“Honestly, you just have to come to work in latex hidden like you did. Of course, you would need a gloveless suit because wearing those silly cotton gloves will only make up the excuse for some time. Can you give it a try this week? What do you say?”

“I… I don’t know, sir. It’s somewhat sudden.” she said, squirming on her chair, feeling the chastity belt push on her toys, feeling the rubber, the sweat building up under it. Fuck yes, the job was appealing. Spending her whole days in rubber and bondage? Yes, fuck YES! “But…” she added, showing her hands.

“Yes, I know. Go to the lounge. Sandra is waiting with the proper attire and some suggestions.” he said with a wink.

She left the office with mixed feelings, anticipation and anxiety. The Foxy Lounge was about three blocks away and she walked there, feeling the rubber and missing her ballet boots or any other high heels. The closer she was getting to the lounge, the happier she was becoming.

She went in and she was greeted by Sandra who was smiling. Karen tried to look pissed off, but her happy face betrayed her false mood.

“How dare you put me through this?” she said, “Do you imagine the anxiety it caused me?”

“Yeah, I could easily imagine,” said Sandra. “First thing, is to get you the new suit without gloves. Do you mind the socks or do you want it without?”

“Oh, definitely keeping the socks. Now that I know what I’m going through, I’ll just get myself a few more pairs of booties.” she said, raising her feet.

“Your choice. Okay so one suit, attached feet, no gloves and low collar, right?”

“Yes. I think so. I mean I have to hide it behind my city clothes.” she said.

“It’s alright. Now I would guess that you would like to work with your hood back on and your ballet heels as well but, well, it’s home, right?”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t bring them to work. Same for the ballet boots.” she said with a sarcastic grin.

“That’s the point. I don’t really need you before 13:00, so you have time to go back home and bring them back.” said Sandra.

“Yeah, I can do that.” said Karen, wondering.

“And don’t forget to bring back the ankle cuffs and the collar.”

By 13:00, she was back at the Lounge, in full gear. She only wished she could go to the law firm like that, not having to hide anything.

Sandra linked her ankles with short chain, linked her wrist the same manner, and linked her wrists to her chastity belt, limiting their movements and then gave her the list of chores: sweeping, mopping, dusting, cleaning the toilets, the tables, everything was a challenge but also a blast! She loved the restraints. She loved feeling her wrists reach the end of her chain.

However, at one point, Sandra felt that she was moaning too much, so a panel gag was added, silencing her, but oh, how increasing the pleasure. She tried to move the dildos, to get some pleasure out of it but the chastity belt fulfilled its task. It was frustrating and arousing at the same time. She loved it.

By the end of the day, she was released.

“You didn’t think about bringing a change of clothes, and I didn’t think about advising you for it, right?”

“Why? I want to keep the suit. I’ll go to work tomorrow with my cotton gloves and that will be it. Now sweat.”

“Well, the problem is your skin. It’s not made to be sealed up like that for too long. Right now, it will be all whitish and wrinkly. You will have to take the suit off and give your skin a day’s rest, meaning that tomorrow, you won’t wear it to work and you won’t come here either. Technically, Mondays and Thursdays will be your rest day. I have a PVC catsuit for you to wear, or you can wear a spandex one, but no latex until Friday to, you know, set the clock right.

“I’m sure you can make an exception.” said Karen with distressed eyes.

“It’s not me who decides. It’s your skin. You’ll see what I mean when you take it off at home. Here, let me unlock the chastity belt and the cuffs.”

Once home, Karen took as shower to remove the suit and to her horror, she could see what Sandra meant. Her skin looked dead. It looked fine the next morning but she understood the reasons to spend at least a day out of rubber was necessary.

Doing her chores in PVC wasn’t the same. No latex panties and no toys. She almost felt punished.

The next week, she got her new gloveless suit and began the real schedule. This went on for about a month. On that Monday morning, at work, she was bringing in some papers for Mr Thompson. Since the door was closed, she gently knocked on it.

He was with one of the lawyers. On the desk, was a document folder and a little vial of amber liquid. Since she was already into NDA, she could come in, whatever the discussion.

“… so the problem is that it creates a condition where the hydration cream has to be applied three times a day to keep the skin moist, as if the skin was allergic to air.” was explaining the lawyer.

Karen frowned.

“I’m sorry. Is this the psoriasis treatment lawsuit? The one where an injection was supposed to cure it but it had unforeseen side effects?” she asked.

“Yes, but you’re no longer on the case since you work only part-time.” said the lawyer, looking at her like she was a nobody.

“Yes, I know but we just received a fax this morning about that case… let me see.” she said, browsing the pile of folders she had in her hand, and grabbing an individual sheet of paper. “Should I leave it on your desk or do you want it now?”

“A fax? Who the hell still uses a fax? Give me that.” he said, practically ripping the paper out of Karen’s hands.

Karen left the office, but as she closed the door she heard Mr. Thompson talk to that lawyer.

“That was unnecessary rude, Bill. That she has some personal health issues forcing to work only part time doesn’t allow you to show a lack of respect to her.”

She swallowed and walked away. Yeah, it had become problematic since she worked part time. Rumors were going on. She was less and less happy at that workplace.

By noon, she was getting out, passing by the receptionist office. The psoriasis case lawyer was there, chatting with the receptionist. A client entered and slightly bumped into Karen, making her lose her balance, stumbling on the lawyer. She felt a sting in her back.,

“Ouch!! What the heck was… OH MY GOD!” she said as she looked at the lawyer, holding a syringe, the needle bent. Karen reached for her back. “You… you stung me with that thing? I hope there wasn’t anything in there? What the hell are you doing?”

Turned out that there was something in it. Somehow, that lawyer wanted to impress the new receptionist by showing how to fill a syringe with a dangerous liquid, and how brave he was to manipulate it without any protection. Now, he had injected a massive dose of the drug into Karen, because he wasn’t filling the syringe for a precise injection, but for show-off and it had put almost the whole vial in it.

Karen was rushed to the hospital and kept under observation. Three days later, a rash began to appear. Applying cream four times a day didn’t do much.

Mr. Thomposon happened to come by to inquire how she was going.

“Say, correct me if I’m wrong, but the cream doesn’t do much. Apparently, my skin got somewhat allergic to air or something. Do you think??”

“I was about to say the same thing, Karen. I’ll have a word with the doctor and the researchers, if you don’t mind.”

“Well, sir, technically, you’re my lawyer in this situation.” she said with a wink.

A few hours later, Karen was put on a neck entry latex catsuit in front of stunned doctors. Her head was shaved and the hood was put on, leaving only holes for eyes and mouth and nostril holes.

“I doubt it would change anything but we’ll keep a close watch on her.” said the doctor.

Every hour, a nurse would come, pull the collar and look at her skin, then would look around her eyes and mouth.

One week later, the final verdict came.

“Well, Miss Karen, Mr. Thompson,” began the doctor, “as odd as it may seem, the… treatment worked. Her skin is in perfect condition except for rashes over the eyes and around the lips, well, everywhere air is touching the skin. I don’t know how long the treatment will work, if she will have to keep this… suit… for a few weeks or a few years, but it works. I will release her from the hospital tomorrow.”

He left Karen with Thompson.

“Don’t worry Karen, the incident happened at work and the firm will pay all expenses and lost income until a cure is found.” he said.

“A cure? A cure for what? I love it this way!!” said Karen, smiling.”

“But it means that  you CAN’T take off your latex suit. At all. I know it was a fantasy of yours but think of the implications. The firm…”

“The firm no, but the Lounge yes.” said Karen, smiling. “Don’t worry. I had time to think last week, and it won’t cost the firm a lot, Mr. Thompson. Here’s my idea.”

Two weeks later, she was back at the hospital, where a doctor inserted tubes for her breathing and feeding as well as for the cleaning. Each entry point was then sealed shut by gluing a piece of latex over the tubes. She was getting sealed off. Thompson and Sandra were there, witnessing the procedure.

A second hood, on top of her first one, was pulled down. This one included an attached gasmask which would seal her eyes from the air and would provide connectors for the breathing and feeding tubes. That second layer added pressure on her head, on her earphones that would be used to control what she could hear or not.

The doctor took a step back.

“Very unusual but if it works and if she agrees with it, I’m fine. Everything looks perfect. How are you feeling?” he asked, looking at Karen.

She had mixed feelings. Those tubes were not exactly comfortable but they were part of her fantasy of being sealed in rubber. She raised two thumbs up.

She was driven to the Lounge where her… uniform was completed.

Another suit was added, covering everything up. It wasn’t exactly rubber. It was something clear and very resistant, and also very tight and not as stretchy as latex, which was there, yes to prolong the life of her latex catsuit, but to remind her that she wasn’t free.

A corset was added as well as a steel posture collar, ballet boots, steel cuffs and a chastity belt. Sandra then took the tip of a large cable and approached Karen, pulling down a dark helmet and began to… weld everything shut!

She would NOT easily get out of it. But that was the whole point. She had made a deal with Mr. Thompson that, for as long as she wasn’t required to get out of her latex skin, she would be kept sealed and in total bondage. She will work for him, or Sandra, no matter what the job would be, always bound, always chained, always enclosed in rubber.

A track has been added to the roof of the whole Lounge, allowing her to move along to different parts of it, her neck chained to that rail, but she would never leave unless ‘authorized’. Once all the welds were done, Sandra linked Karen’t newly welded steel collar to the rail. The chain was long enough to allow her to kneel but no more. She grabbed her wrists and linked them to the sides of her chastity belt, then added a small hobble chain between her steel ankle cuffs as well as a shorter chain to her knee cuffs.

Karen heard a little crackin in her ears.

“You have the… day off. Sort of.” said Sandra. “I’m sure you need some getting used to. Just go to your room when ready or tired.” she said, smiling, cutting the mic so that Karen would go back to her silent world.

Karen began to move, feeling the limits of her restraints, and especially the weight of all these steel cuffs. The realization of what her silly ideas were really meaning was sinking in. It’s like trying a new haircut, realizing the outcome only after, whether you like it or not. However, hair grows back. She had no way out. She could have chosen to only wear latex and that would be it. But no. She had to add restraints, but not simple leather ones that could be taken off at any time. No. She had to want steel ones, and welded shut.

She wiggled her shoulders, feeling the double layer of latex and polymer squishing her body. Her head freedom was much less than she anticipated. She made a few steps, quickly reaching the limits of her hobble chains. Yes, they could be taken off, but those would be her day-to-day restraints, unless she had a special task to do, requiring something else, or to be tied up to some device.

She could feel more than she could hear the chains clinking, reaching the limit of the cuffs. Her breathing was noisy through the filters of the gasmask. No smell. No taste. No sound, and an impaired vision by dark lenses, which of course, were LCD displays that could be blacked out or made to display whatever Sandra wanted. She was, after all, more or less, Sandra’s toy.

She walked from the dungeon to the changing booth, booths she would never use again, then to the main lounge area, filled with empty tables. The rail allowed her to go pretty much everywhere, some places requiring that she would stretch her neck chain to the limit.

She was no longer part of the drone squad. She was the cleaning… thing. She would collect empty glasses or plates, wipe off the tables and stuff.

She looked around and realized the work that she would have to do, all impaired by her bonds. If something falls on the floor, she would have to kneel, reaching the end of her chain pulling her neck downward while her wrist, linked to her chastity belt, barely reached the floor, the tip of her fingers barely brushing on it.

The thought made her hot.

She walked around, making a whole tour, feeling her tight suit squeeze her body, feeling her bun being pinched with every step. She was struggling to breathe, impaired by the extremely tight corset. She loved every second of it.

Slowly, to keep the pleasure for as long as possible, she walked back to the dungeon, feeling her dildos move inside her, the massage of her body by the suit, the hard hits each time she was reaching the end of her hobble chain.

She looked at the dungeon equipment. All of them had been reinforced, made ‘Karen-Proof’. She giggled as she took a closer look at the fucking bench, now stronger than ever, then walked to her room, which was nothing more than a vertical box, the size of a coffin.

She reached, stretching her wrist chain to its maximum length, to the side of the box to press a button. The cover opened, pivoting to the left.

The box was lined with shiny red latex. Slowly, per the instructions she was given, she got in it backward. As she couldn’t look down, she searched for the indentations on the bottom of it to find the places where her ballet boots would rest, small holes, perhaps 2cm deep.

Carefully, one at a time, she set her foot down inside those small holes. Her right foot first, followed by her left foot, then she waited. After about 10 seconds, she felt something grab her heel. She tried to pull her feet off but it was too late. He had been grabbed and firmly held down.

An arm moved between her leg and plugged itself to her crotch, to connectors leading to her  hollow dildos, allowing cleaning, and recharging their batteries at the same time.

Another arm moved from over her head and plugged to her gasmask, providing fresh air but also feeding her, if needed, according to the computer managing it.

The door slowly closed, blocking the light as it did so, putting her in complete darkness.

A few moments later, she felt her world collapse inside her ‘room’ as vacuum was applied and the inner lining was drawn to her body, wrapping it in its tight squeeze. When it stopped, she was unable to move, imprisoned in this vacuum mummy bag. And that was not all. Now, some other bladder began to inflate, squishing her even more from all directions. When everything stopped, she couldn’t move at all.

Yeah, that was totally Karen-Proof. She would not break that one. If only…

Everything was silent. All she could somewhat hear was her heavy breathing and her pounding heart, because she knew what was coming. And it came.

The toys in her crotch began to vibrate. Just a faint hum. Disturbing. Arousing. Annoying. Because, that was all there was. She would be teased and only teased the whole time she would be in her room. Pleasure was to be with the bondage devices, NOT in her room.

The computer and/or Sandra would decide when she’s left out, and only Sandra will decide when she will be rewarded. She had to earn it. That was Mr. Thompson’s conditions to the deal. She got her way, he got his.

When working, she would be severely chained, neck linked to any attachment points. And on kinky evenings, when not in use, whe would just stand there, displayed, bound to different devices, to the enjoyment of the customers, who could play with her toys, watching her squirm, but never orgasm.

That was for the dungeon room only. And for rewards only.

She would have an orgasmic life.

© monsterp63

July 10, 2022

mp63.ca

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16 thoughts on “Karen – A Little Favor

  1. I love this story she’s fantastic I love the permanent latex suits! Too bad there is no image of Karen’s final outfit! But it’s already great!

    1. Thank you.

      The scene with her final outfit happens in the dungeon. I couldn’t make an image that closely resembled the dungeon I described, and I couldn’t make her “box”. That’s why there’s no image of the dungeon whatsoever, and thus, no images for her in her final outfit.

  2. Wonderful story as always.
    I like how all seems to move slowly and “realistic” no matter how kink all it is.
    Bravo!

    1. Thank you very much.
      I know some of the readers are longing for more “realistic” story. The one in progress, “Ooo Kinky”, is almost as real life could be. Almost…

  3. It is a great story, so far.Only got to the point where she gets gagged before work, but let me come to you with a suggestion for correction: when the gag gets inflated, she cannot possibly reach to touch her face, since she had her arms tied behind. If you do correct this or not, is up to you, just a suggestion. You may also delete this comment if you like.
    Cheers!

    1. Thank you.
      I will look into that.

      I will certainly NOT delete a comment that points out an error. I am human, I will make errors. The best way to deal with those errors is to own them and to fix them.

      It would help if you can direct me a little bit more as to where it is, like first third, half-way, or better yet, quote something I can search for. That thing is almost 50 pages long, she she goes to work quite a few times…

      1. This line:
        She tried to reach it, to stop it, but all her hands felt was that hard plastic case engulfing her head. The screens lit up.

  4. Thank you for the story. Long time reader, starting from your “Tight Jeans” website.
    Might I suggest if another story a Working Bondage of a rod pivoting from a ring on the front of her collar to a pair of wrist cuffs, reaching to about mid-waist level. This would let her do a variety of tasks, typing and office work etc. with some difficulty, but unable to touch any part of her body or equipment other than her (corseted?) waist. Add a label or nameplate (care instructions?) to breast/collar/top of head, identifying her when gagged. I admit this might only be of interest to a limited audience (me, maybe).

    1. Thank you for being a long-time follower. I really appreciate it.

      That’s a clever idea you got there. Might as well include it in the story I’m currently working on (Wrong house).

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