Or is it?
Story in progress, very early in the writing process. No ETP (Estimated Time of Posting). And this is more a teaser than a sneak peak…
Karen is a burglar, but she enters the wrong house, only to be caught by a latex and bondage loving couple… What could go wrong here? Nothing much, really. I mean, it’s not as if Karen had previous advent… Oh! Wait…
She was shown different items, but each time, Karen only shuddered, not knowing what to answer. She never wore anything like that before, so she didn’t really know what to choose. Lynda understood the situation and, making a “wait a minute” sign, picked up a few items and walked out of the closet, putting everything on a table, then gestured to Karen to get undressed.
She stood there, mouth agape, looking in the void. Would she undress in front of a stranger… in a strange outfit… in an even stranger room… of a stanger’s house? She looked at the pile of rubber items and didn’t move.
Lynda hobbled her way out of the room, toward the kitchen. She heard the chain rattle and the latex creaking going away then coming back toward the dungeon. This time, she was holding an electronic tablet and she was typing on it, then as she reached Karen, she handed it out to her.
“I fully understand your situation and what you’re thinking. What’s with this weirdo in latex asking me to wear some. I’ll leave them here. WHEN, and IF you feel ready to TRY IT, just do so. I would really like you to try it: it’s awesome!”
Karen read the message, then looked up at Lynda, which simply did a little bow before heading out of the dungeon.
Karen stood there, looking at the room, the garments, the latex, the leather, the straps. She thought about her situation, what brought her here, and what the outcome is… or could be.
She heard running water and other noises coming from the kitchen. Slowly, she walked out to see what was going on: Lynda was filling a bucket of water and gathering the mop and some rags. She was about to do house chores all in rubber, all chained up!
As she turned around, Lynda saw Karen standing there and stopped for a tenth of a second before resuming her chores, as if Karen wasn’t there.
All sorts of thoughts were running through Karen’s mind. About her past life, about her present situation, about… the future?? Having nothing else to do, she walked back to the dungeon. But why back to the dungeon, she asked herself, when she could have gone to the living room and lay on the couch. Why did she feel compelled to return to the pile of latex garments? Why was she shivering when looking at the leather harnesses? Why was she having that weird butterfly in her stomach when looking at the multiple bondage devices around her?
Why? Just… why?
She picked one of the latex items. It was a dark blue long sleeved leotard with a high collar and a front zipper going through the crotch. It felt strange. Cold. The smell struck her nostrils. Why was she shaking? She picked another item, well two in fact: a baby-pink latex bra and latex panties. Lastly, a black latex skirt.
She realized at the same time that the items Lynda had chosen were not to engulf her in rubber. There was no hood, no gloves, no stockings.
She looked behind her, at the opened door, expecting Lynda to be spying on her, but there was no one. She could still hear the mix of rubber creaking, chains rattling and the mop and bucket noises coming from the kitchen. There was no way Lynda could sneak on her: much too noisy.
Shaking, she undressed, taking her sneakers off, then her skinny jeans and finally her T-shirt. She took the latex bra and tried it over her worned out cotton bra, just to see the fit. The touch of latex through some holes of her bra made her shiver, but mostly wondered what it would feel like.
She took her regular bra off and wrapped the latex one over her breasts. The cold feeling of the first touch of the latex made her breath through her teeth, but it quickly warmed up. She adjusted the fit and slowly rubbed them, feeling the rubber, feeling the warmth of her hands through it, yet not feeling her hands. That felt weird. The support was good and she liked the touch of latex.
She slowly ran her index fingers in circles around her nipples, scratching the latex with her nails, feeling the light touch, the pressure, the tickling. She giggled.
She took her panties off and put on the latex panties
That was a similar feeling. Cold at first, then quickly warming up. She rubbed her finger against the crotch, feeling it. It was quite pleasurable. She was smiling, even humming.
The sound of glass shattering coming from the kitchen took her out of her daydream, or was it day pleasure. She had a peek outside the room, toward the kitchen. She saw Lynda walk, hobbling her way, holding a broom and dustpan, evidently pissed off.
Karen, now out of her pleasure dream, looked at the other latex items. She picked the dark blue leotard and slowly slid down the zipper before putting her feet inside the leg holes, slowly bringing it back up until it rested on her crotch. She proceeded to put her left arm through the sleeve. The latex was thick and rather tight. She struggled and figured that some kind of lubricant would have helped. She tugged on the rubber until her hand popped off at the other end, then she put her right arm in the sleeve and repeated the procedure. She then worked it up over her shoulders, which pulled rather hard on the crotch portion. That thing was made for someone with a shorter torso. Nonetheless, the pull at her crotch was… pleasurable.
She grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it up, having to bring each side closer with one hand as the garment was somewhat too small for her, but the latex simply stretched and she wondered if being this tight wasn’t exactly on purpose, for a very second skin fit. It squished her stomach in, almost like a corset. Each breath was a struggle, but somehow, she didn’t exactly dislike it.
She pulled the zipper up to her breasts, where they were getting squeezed and pulling it up became quite difficult.
It felt like her breasts were being massaged, squished, encased and very well supported by the now two layers of rubber. She pulled the zipper up to just below her neck.
She took the black latex skirt. That was an easy fit, just step in and pull it over the thin waist, helped kept thinner by the tight, constricting leotard.
She rubbed her outfit with her hands, getting all the wrinkles out… as if there were any. Everything was smooth and shiny. She raised her head and catch a glimpse of what she looked like in the mirror. She was stunned. And she was stunning.
Her naked LEGS seemed to break the overall look. She turned around and looked at the walk-in closet. Her eyes were attracted by those long brown leather boots, with a bunch of holes in them. Slowly, fingers shaking, she took them in her hands, feeling the fine leather, slowly running her finger along the tall and thin heel. She never wore anything like that. Hell, even those sneakers, those wedge sneakers she was wearing, were pretty much the highest she had come to, and these were…enforced by Phil.
But somehow, she was attracted to those high heels. She looked toward the corridor, expecting to see Lynda, but she wasn’t there. The chain rattle could still be heard coming from the kitchen.
She sat down and put the left boot over her feet, her leg. The smooth silky satin lining brushed against her leg. She liked the feeling. Her foot slid down easily, reaching the smaller ankle portion, then entered the foot part of the boot, settling in place. She felt the leather wrap her foot, creaking in the process.
She laced the cuff wrapping the ankle portion, tightening the boot over her foot.
Breath shaking, she proceeded with her right foot. The more her legs were encased, the better she felt. Weird.
She grabbed a hold of the nearest table and slowly got herself up.
That was strange, betting up, standing on those tall heels. She was afraid to fall off, but the boot felt sturdy and holding.
Carefully, she let go of the table, raising her back straight, putting her full weight on her feet, then trying to transfer her center of gravity toward her heels. That was something new to experience.
She slowly balanced back and forth, getting accustomed to the feeling, then she tried one small step, ready to catch a hold of whatever was near at the slightest sign of falling down, but she didn’t need any. The first step went smoothly. Then the second one. Those were small steps, but they were getting bigger. As she reached the room door, she was almost making normal stroll lengths.
She turned into the corridor. Hearing the sounds of the heel clicking was weird, especially knowing that it came from her. She was making that distinctive high heel sound.
She approached the kitchen, entering, shy, unsecured.
Lynda had apparently finished cleaning the mess she had done by dropping some glass. She was turning around, probably to put the broom back where it belonged when she saw Karen. She stopped dead and let the broom fall off her hand, then quickly applauded at Karen who was looking down at herself, rubbing her outfit.
“How is it?” asked Karen.
Raw renders I use to construct the details of the story.
And I had fun playing with the textures of the underwear…
On a final note, finding new ideas, new scenarios is getting difficult. I often start to write only to have a “dejà vu” feeling. A friend, Chastitygirl, told me:
“Well, you’ve written too many stories. No wait. You haven’t written too many stories. I mean, I like that you write more. You have written many stories, but not too many… There’s never too many stories from you…”
You know, the perfect example of putting one’s foot in the mouth?
LOL Sandra! You made me laugh! Thank you!
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