Karen – The Black Club

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“So, what are you up to now, on this Friday evening, Karen? It’s still early.” asked Sandra, doing some quick dance moves, ready to hit the dance clubs.

“Go home and rest. I’m tired.” said Karen, putting her uniform apron down. “I love waiting tables but this place is a dump and the pay is trash.”

“Yeah, but until you, and I, find a better place, we’re stuck here,” said Sandra.

“Thinking of a place in particular?” asked Karen.

“I’m sure anywhere but here is a better place.” said Sandra, closing the door of her locker. “How about you?”

“Well, I applied to the Black Club.”

Sandra was startled.

“The Black Club? Are you nuts? The most private club in the country? Access to exclusive members only? I’ve heard that their employee selection process is stiffer than the secret services. You’ll never get there.”

“And why not?” asked Karen.

“Should I really need to break it to you, Karen? You’re a nobody. I AM a nobody. They don’t hire nobodies. And I’m not so sure about working there. I mean, I lost contact with Lynda, my long time friend. It was like she had been… abducted.”

Karen frowned.

“Well, apparently the pay is really good so… she might have moved on to… the higher society.” said Karen with a grin.

“Yeah right. We’re part of the shitty group alright. Anyway, see you tomorrow then?”

“No, I actually have the weekend off,” said Karen. “I’ll be back Monday for the lunch rush.”

“Oh, okay then. See you Monday.” said Sandra, leaving.

Karen rode the bus back to her place. She was feeling tired. A nice cup of tea then she would hit the bed. That was her plan. For the weekend: nothing. Rest and… searching for a new job.

She made her tea and sat at her computer, checking her e-mails. She sighed. No news from the numerous places she applied for a job. She took a sip of her tea and frowned. It tasted weird. Could the tea have turned bad? Perhaps she was simply too tired to enjoy it. She undressed and slipped under the satin sheets of her bed. Sleep went quickly.

She was feeling dizzy. She recalled going to bed early, not feeling very good, feeling tired after getting her usual cup of tea. Now, she had a feeling of choking, as if something had entered her mouth. She tried to reach it. She did, but both her hands followed, like handcuffed and also her arms felt tightly wrapped into something. She could feel the large hard ball in her mouth, held with a strap going around her head. She tried to pull it off but it was too tightly fastened. She couldn’t get the ball past her teeth.

She tried to get up, only to realize that her feet too were shackled in steel cuffs.

What the hell happened here?

The light of the room was dim, but it was getting brighter with a strange orange glow. She looked up and she saw those windows, very high up the walls, five, maybe six meters high. And those walls, dirty, rusty. Was that steel? And that wall over there? Bricks?

‘Where the hell am I?’ she thought as this wasn’t looking remotely like her bedroom.

She looked around and saw many things hanging up from high up toward the very, very high ceiling.

‘Looks like some abandoned industrial building or something.’ she said to herself. ‘What the hell am I doing here? Am I dreaming?’

She tried to sit but had to fight her tight jeans. She looked down at it. She was used to tight jeans. Tight stretch jeans. Jeggings. But these were tighter than her tightest jeggings. She put her feet down and something was odd. She looked. She was wearing those high heel wedge sneakers. Where did those come from? She never had any… wait! She never went to bed fully dressed either! How did she end up in those tight jeans, sneakers and that leather jacket also very tight. She never wore anything like that before. Nothing that tight fitting anyway.?

And when she tried to look down, she could feel something wide and heavy around her neck, making it difficult to look down.

She touched it. It was some kind of steel collar, with many sides. She couldn’t feel any locking mechanism or anything. She could also see her arms encased in a very tight leather jacket. Heck, she didn’t own a leather jacket!

How?… Where?… and especially WHY?

She tried to get up. It took her a few attempts to get up from that old and creaky bed, feeling her tight jeans squishing her thighs, her hips, her waist, her crotch. She rubbed her thighs from her cuffed hands. The chain was long and was not really creating a restriction, just adding weight to her arms. 

There wasn’t exactly an exit door as a good portion of a wall was simply missing. Slowly, impaired by the shackles, she made a few steps, her first in high heel sneakers, well in high heels period. That felt weird but not as scary or painful she thought it would. She looked everywhere, trying to figure out where she was and where she should be going.

On her left, a corridor making a sharp turn to the right about four meters away. On her right, the large open area of that old factory. There was abandoned machinery, fallen steel beams, bricks, concrete and other stuff, some of it probably coming from the half collapsed roof. No easy path and no exit in sight.

‘With all the debris over there, you’d better try the corridor.’ she thought.

She moved, slowly. She could feel the weight of the shackles and the chain dragging behind. The chain was long. Its length was not impairing her at all. It was more the dragging and by that, was collecting a bunch of pieces of junk that made her walk annoying.

She could feel the pinching of her extra tight “stretch” jeans on her butt with each step. She could hear the creaking of her tight leather jacket with each move. And she could hear her breathing whistling through the little gap left by the ball gag, spitting drool with it.

One thing for sure, she was not silent and would by no means surprise anyone present.

She reached the corner and turned to her right. Two more meters and another corner or rather an intersection. She had the choice of going left or going forward.

She paused in the middle of it, looking left, forward and back. Oh, the left corridor looked more inviting. It had been cleared of most debris compared to the straight corridor.

Her choice was made. She turned and began to walk on the left corridor, going quite fast.

One step. Two steps. Three… she felt a sharp sting on her neck and she stopped dead on her track. She could still feel the electrical shock being discharged but at a lower level.

She took a step back and the stinging ceased.

So, what was it? A warning to not go there or a challenge? Should she turn around or should she try to run it off?

The other path was full of debris. This one was cleared. It was either an easy way out or a path that whoever put her in this situation, made. In any case, it was a way out. It had to be.

She took a small step back and she ran for it, reaching the end of her ankle chains. She was feeling her butt being pinched by the too tight jeggings. The strange position of her feet in those extreme sneakers was something to get used to and running was apparently not the best way to do that. And the rubbing… The rubbing at her crotch was disturbing but in a… different way.

However, the stinging on her neck quickly grew stronger, until it hurt, more and more.

No, that was too strong. She would not be able to run it off. She stopped to turn around but the stinging had gone too strong. She tried to get the collar off but it wouldn’t let go, open or stop. And now it was as if it was getting tighter, choking her. Oh shit! She was so turned on. Wait! What?

She collapsed on her knees, struggling to crawl, on all four, not really from the pain but somehow, it seemed to paralyze her or make her limbs unresponsive, but damn, the cuffs, the collar, the tight clothes, the bondage the collar the… it was… arousing? Hell, no! She couldn’t find that arousing.. She thought she saw something venting from above her head, like steam or a gas. She gasped and everything blurred, fading to black.

Her mouth was dry and was filled with a bitter taste. And there was something in it. She tried to spit it out but couldn’t. Something was keeping that bitter ball in.

She opened her eyes and blinked a few times to get them to focus. Over her head, a strange rusty ceiling. What the… Ah yes, that strange industrial building. She was back on the bed, fuzzy souvenirs of walking down a corridor and being stung hard by that collar.

She reached for it. Of course, her wrists were still cuffed but there was more: her hands were in leather gloves, now. And either the tight leather jacket got tighter or… the gloves were going up to her armpits, making the sleeves tighter. She moved her legs: yes, the shackles were still there but she had the net impression that the chain was shorter. A lot shorter.

Grunting, she sat on the edge of the bed. Well, she tried to but fell back. She raised her legs up by bending the knees. The jeggings were gone, replaced by real jeans. Real stiff, non-stretch denim jeans. And they were tight. Ridiculously tight. So tight that she couldn’t barely bend her hips.

“Fuck” she mumbled through her gag.

She tried again to sit down but she had to roll to her side and then get herself a push with her hands which added a struggle with the tight sleeves. She was bending at the waist, bending her back. When she tapped her heels on the floor, it felt different. She wasn’t wearing sneakers anymore, but shoes. High heel shoes.

She struggled to get up, wobbling somewhat on the unsteady footwear. The very short hobble chain was not helping either, nor were the extra-tight jeans. The compression of the jeans could not be forgotten. She felt it with every small step she was taking. Even breathing was difficult, thanks to the tight jeans and the tight leather jacket over her chest. She reached for the zipper to, if not taking it off, at least open it to release some of the compression. The sleeves were so tight that she could barely bend her arm to reach the zipper and when she finally did it, it wouldn’t move. It was… glued shut! What the hell?

She looked around. Apparently, apart from finding herself back on the bed with this new setup, nothing had changed. Oh yes, the sun was higher in the sky, meaning that she had been ‘out’ for a few hours.

Nonetheless, there was still no path in the debris field of the main room. She strutted to the corridor, making small steps, feeling the chain and the shackles tug on her ankles with each step. Her feet were wobbly at first but she seemed to get the hang of it. Her steps became more firm, more confident.

And that rubbing at the crotch, this tight denim crotch. Her squeezed hips, feeling her buns being squeezed by the tight denim. It was disturbing at first but… not in a disturbing way. She sort of… liked it. It was like a constant massage. A very tight massage, feeling large hands squish her thighs, large fingers rubbing her crotch.

Well, by this time, she had reached the dreadful intersection. She still had the same choice: the clean corridor or the dirty one? Was the first sting a prank, that now it wouldn’t do anything or was it still there?

She turned to the left and took a few steps. Yes, she quickly felt the warning sting. She turned around in a hurry, not wanting to relive what happened the last time, but not used to the high heels, her feet entangled into each other and she fell down, quickly bending her knees to soften the fall, putting her bound hands forward, landing on her stomach and spreading her full body length, thanks to the tight jeans acting like springs to extend her legs.

Her stomach, her crotch, hit hard on the concrete floor.

“OH FSHHIKKP” she said, triggered by the fall and what she felt in her crotch. For a moment she felt something she liked, like a pleasure jolt or something. Not triggered by any electrodes or toy, but simply by her tight jeans? How the heck…

Now she had to get back up. She got up on all four, but even that was not easy, thanks, yes again, to the extremely tight jeans, preventing her from fully flexing her hips and to the now extra-tight leather jacket sleeves. But that restriction was arousing. No, it couldn’t be. She had to get up. She tried to reach the wall but thanks to her handcuffs, she had to use both hands, impaired by the tight sleeves and thanks to her tight jeans, she couldn’t sit on her knees from her position. Heck! What was she going to do?

She had to find a hold of something. She began to crawl, heading back to the bed, the only thing she figured she could get a hold of to get back up. Walking on all four, her hips bent to their maximum allowed by the jeans meant extra rubbing at her crotch. Damn, that was really disturbing. And the struggle with the tight jacket was not helping, barely able to move her arms.

When she reached the bed, she was panting. Not because she was exhausted but because she was aroused as hell. She climbed on the bed and then, laying on her stomach, pressing her crotch against her cuffed hands, just a few strokes and she exploded of an orgasm she never felt before. It wasn’t that powerful but it was different. Not that powerful but way more enjoyable than any other orgasm she felt before. Not that powerful but fucking awesome!

She rolled on her back, her fingers still scratching the tensed denim, sending tiny shockwaves to her crotch.

‘What the hell are those jeans?’ she asked herself, not believing that simple tight jeans could do this.

After about ten minutes of rest, her survival instincts kicked back into action: she had to get out of there, wherever there was.

She got back on her feet. The heels didn’t seem to be that much of a problem now. Funny. The tight jeans were still one. Every step was annoying, stimulating, arousing. By the time she reached the dreadful intersection, she was panting and she was hot as hell.

She proceeded into the debris filled corridor this time. Her short hobble chain was not helping. Only four meters to go. Getting her feet over the debris was not easy, and those jeans. Those damn jeans, rubbing hard every time she had to lift her leg.

‘Oh fuck! Not here. Not now!’ she thought as she leaned against the wall, eyes closed, fingers rubbing her crotch, the denim now wet from her own body lubes. She lifts a leg, trying to squeeze the juice, the pleasure back inside her crotch. 

‘That’s not possible. What the hell is happening to me?’ she asked herself as she had no choice but to accept the orgasm.

She leaned her back against the wall, both hands on her crotch, her feet slowly sliding on the dirty floor, pushing half-rusted pieces of debris with them.

‘No, don’t slide down on the floor,  you won’t be able to get back up’ was telling her brain.

Struggling to get back up while trying to hold back the orgasm and live it at the same time. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She was stuck in the middle of an orgasm!

She screamed or rather grunted through her gag, saliva spitting out. Eyes closed she rocked her hips and played with her fingers, experiencing the weirdest orgasm she ever felt, wearing tight jeans, high heels, bound, gagged and in a… whatever that place was.

Oh gawd!!

The orgasm finally subsided and she was able to return to reality. Sort of. What was this reality? Was it real or just some drug induced dream? She had seen mold on these walls. One thing for sure, she had to get out, find help, get free and go back home.

She cleared her mind by shaking her head a few times and taking deep breaths, realizing that if the mold had triggered that strange orgasm, doing it might not be the smartest of moves. Then again…

She looked both ways and with a confident step, moved forward, in that corridor filled with debris.

She reached the end.

‘What the fuck?’ she asked, turning around. It was a dead end. No exit. She pushed the walls to make sure it wasn’t some hidden door. Nope. Solid walls. Her only way was back from where she came. So what, the real exit path was where there was no path? What kind of game was that, assuming it was a game.

She put her hands over her head and bangs on the wall, her steel cuffs hitting it and making a loud noise while she tried to scream. She wanted a clue, something to figure out… anything about what was going on.

With a loud noise, the floor beneath her disappeared and she fell, feet first, into a tube. She tried to grab a hold of something but there was nothing she could grab. The tube was smooth, totally circular. It was bending to the right. Yes, light! An exit. She whooshed through it and fell into a large vat filled with some black liquid. She fell in over her head. Swimming the best she could, eyes closed, she tried to reach back to the surface, extending her hands over her head, trying to grab an edge, anything to get her out of there.

She felt something. Something grabbed her wrist chain and was pulling on it. Something or… someone. She fell being dragged up and her head cleared that black goo. She shook her head, trying to clear her eyes. Whoever grabbed her wasn’t speaking. She only heard… grunting.

Her hands grabbed the edge of the vat and her feet found a foothold. With one hand she cleared her eyes and startled.

On the other side of the vat wall, a woman, evidently dressed similar to herself, with tight jeans, high heels, a tight leather jacket and a ball gag. She was all black, like painted black with some shiny tar or, well, it almost looked like rubber. Shiny rubber.

Karen grabbed herself out of the vat helped by that other woman. She sat on the floor, panting, her brain trying to compute the new elements of that strange adventure.

The other woman stood there, not helping her. Well, she couldn’t do much herself: she was locked in a similar outfit, and all covered in that black goo herself. She kneeled beside Karen and was about to touch her when she withdrew her hand. Of course, she didn’t want to add another layer of whatever that black stuff was over her already coated hands. Karen understood and gave her a thumb up gesture.

Karen slowly tried to get up. Her whole extremely tight setup wasn’t helping and that black goo was adding another layer that seemed to tighten as it dried up, and very quickly. She had barely been out of the vat for two minutes and already the coating was dry to the touch.

She rolled on her hands and knees, grunting at the tight jeans teasing. The concrete floor was covered with a layer of dust. She took her index finger to write.

“What is all this?” she wrote, looking at the other woman.

She shuddered in an evident gesture that she didn’t knew, then pointed at Karen, sending back the question. Karen nodded no. She did not know either.

“Karen.” she wrote, pointing at herself.

The other woman used her heeled feet to scribe.

“Lynda”.

She helped Karen get up by pulling on her wrists chain, then looked around. It was a rather small room with no apparent exit, except back up where they came from.

There was suddenly a loud metallic noise, as if something fell, startling both of them. Behind Lynda. A door had opened. The women looked at each other and stood still for a moment, not knowing if it was a clue where to go or if someone else was going to appear.

When nothing else happened, they slowly hobbled their way to that opening. It looked like a small cabin, large enough to fit one person. But who would go first? Who would be brave enough? Was this the exit or the entrance to a new challenge? Was that booth made for them to make a decision of who will continue and who will be free? What was the purpose of it?

Lynda began swinging her arm at the elbow with a close fist. She did it 3 times.

Rock, paper, scissors, of course. They played. Lynda won. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad choice. She took place in the booth and waited.

Nothing happened. She jumped in place on her high heel shoes, pressed on the different panels making the booth, looked for a button to close the door or whatever: nothing. She walked back out and in again. Nothing. She invited Karen to try. But nothing more happened. Karen cramped herself against one of the walls and gestured to Lynda to come in. Perhaps, both should get in.

The two of them? In that small booth? Well, it was something to try. Lynda squeezed herself in, her boobs sliding against Karen’s, squishing them. They were very close to each other, their noses almost touching.

As soon as she was inside, the door slid down and closed with a loud metallic noise, putting them in total darkness. Their first instinct was to try to open it again, but it was locked or too heavy for them to move it. They tried to press on the other walls. Nothing happened. They were stuck, squished one against the other.

There was another loud metallic noise that seemed to come from lower. Lynda twitched and moved a little as if something touched her. Soon after, Karen felt something push at the front of her crotch. She wiggled like Lynda did and it continued under her, between her legs. It felt like a steel rod, probably going straight through the steel box, from side to side, between their legs. Then the bar rose up. Not a lot but just enough to put a lot of pressure on their crotches, almost lifting their feet off the floor.

Squeezed one against the other, and with their chained wrists, they couldn’t grab anything to ease the lifting force. Worst! They both had their hands on their sides, the sagging wrist chain now passing BELOW the rod, meaning they couldn’t raise their hands.

Well, that was another type of bondage.

Then they yelped, at the same time. Both of them, as the bar began to vibrate. It was soft at first, but it grew stronger.

They squirmed, differently, as they responded to the vibrations in their own ways. Squished as they were, each one’s squirming was felt by the other, which was not necessarily in sync with what she was feeling, creating a kind of weird pattern between the hot touch of the rubber-like coated clothes and the coldness of the tight steel box they were encased in.

Each move, each squirm would make the rubber creak, echoing in the small enclosure.

One would scream (sort of, thanks for the ball gag stuffed in their mouth), the other would scream not long after. One would yelp. The other would yelp shortly after. And their yelps and screams, and grunts and jolts were getting more and more in sync, getting more and more powerful, getting more and more toward the culminating orgasm.

Soon, they were totally in sync, their beats getting faster and faster until they fused into one long yell, scream, grunt and body shaking orgasm, exploding deep inside their tightly encased body, their senses of touch enhanced somehow.

Karen’s eyes rolled backward as her head slowly tipped to the side, held somewhat upright by the steel collar, her body relaxing. She would have slid down and collapsed on the floor if it weren’t for Lynda, obviously experiencing the same feelings, her body reacting the same way.

She moaned as she tried to straighten up, her black rubber covered clothes sticking to the steel walls.

In their dizzy states, they heard something weird, like a spray. Their heads became heavy, their brains fuzzy. Just as they were about to fall unconscious, there was another loud clunk and the wall opposite to the one they entered. Their heads slowly turned to the new opening and their blurry eyes saw strange shadows moving before everything reverted to nothing as their brains blacked-out.

It was like getting out of a dense fog. Again. She blinked. The warehouse ceiling was there. Again. She was laying on the bed. Again. She felt something in her mouth. Again. But it was different. Larger. A lot larger. Her tongue was pinned down. She couldn’t even feel what it was.

Her whole body felt tight, but not the same as before. Something was different. She was wearing something very tight again but not… What the heck was it?

Her hands were resting on her stomach, shackled together. Not much play there. She brought them to her head, to her face, to her head to feel something. Her hands were glimmering black. Her leather gloves had been replaced by… rubber ones? She looked down at her arms. They were coated with this smooth and very shiny rubber. She rolled and sat on the edge of the bed. She actually had more freedom of movements than with the tight jeans. This suit was a lot more flexible. But was it a suit or was it her skin? Had she been dipped into this vat of something gooey?

Her feet were still encased in high heels, boots this time, and with a higher heel than the previous time. 

The big question that was constantly popping in her mind was: why?

There was something new in her crotch. Intruders. Two of them. She tried to reach it but her fingers were blocked by some sort of steel belt. She let out a sigh.

‘A chastity belt now?’ she thought.

Puzzled, she got up, struggling a lot. Her wrists cuffs were linked together and her ankles cuffs were the same. Walking would be quite a struggle and not very fast.

She looked around, each movement making her rubber skin creak. She could feel the suit very tight on her, so tight that breathing was a struggle: she had to fight the suit with each breath.

Bending her arms, flexing her knees gave her the net feeling that the suit was as thick as it was tight.

A look around. The sun was way higher now, probably mid-afternoon. Everything seemed to be the same… no. A path has been cleared in the debris-filled area and junk has been put in the direction of the corridor, the kind of signs she learned to follow.

She aimed for it. One very little step at a time. And keeping her balance on those high heels with those short steps was an impressive challenge. She was following a wall and took a hold of it many times. Once she would let go of that wall, she would be on her own.

And it didn’t take long for her to lose her balance. She quickly bent her knees and thanks to the rubber suit not being as restrictive as the tight jeans, she was able to sort of softly collapse on the ground. Having her hands free would have helped a lot but she nonetheless landed on her hip then on her shoulder.

A series of nicely chosen words would have been heard if it weren’t for the gag filling her mouth.

Shit! Now she had to get back up. 

She placed her hands at chest level, rolled on her stomach and with a push, she straightened her back to kneel.

That was step one and relatively easy to do, thanks to the stretch of the suit, although it was still very tight and she still had to fight it, especially her now fast breathing.

Now, to get up, she would have to give herself a swing backward, bending her feet behind her and raising her body, all in one continuous move. Easy barefooted. In 12cm heels, that was at another level of difficulty.

One, two, three. Shoulder backswing, knees off the floor, ankles flexing, quick, regaining balance, losing it, one step backward, too short – thanks for the ankle chain – one more back step, another one. No, the shoulders are too far back. Throw hands in front, yes! She was getting her balance back while still back-stepping.

Then, out of the blue, her toys became alive. Both of them. And hard.

Fuck! A heel slipped and she was flying backward, twisting to try to land on her hands.

She hit hard, her breasts breaking the fall. Her hips fell hard on the floor while her knees bent, sending her ankles high over her back. She felt the chastity belt, somehow connected to the toys, moving them, pushing, pulling them, while they were vibrating.

“Aaaaaaaas schuuuukpp!!!!” She screamed through the gag, followed by loud moans as she couldn’t help but bang her chastity belt on the hard concrete floor. Shit! That was good.

What the hell was wrong with her? She was in an unknown place, wearing this weird latex catsuit, vibrating dildos locked it, gagged and tied up and all she was thinking was… sex?

She stopped for a moment but the urge was too strong. Oh yes, this was so good… wait. How can being in this situation be good? Oh the hell with it. She banged her chastity belt on the hard concrete floor again and again. Her moans intensified. She struggled against her bounds, her bound wrists, her linked ankles, and the more she struggled the more aroused she became. Her breath was short, fast. Her heart was pounding hard. Her crotch was on fire. She exploded and again, for the fourth time, she felt an orgasm she never even imagined ever existed. It was powerful, colorful, a mix of fireworks and rocket launch. The pleasure of standing under a warm waterfall while enjoying a unique view, the pleasure… The pleasure. That was it. Pure pleasure.

Her body was shaken by strong convulsions while, eyes closed, she enjoyed the rush of hormones throughout her body, her whole body, from her toenails to the tip of her hair. Every cell of her body was feeling it, was enjoying it. And as if they knew their jobs were done, the plugs stopped vibrating.

The orgasm slowly subsided and for a long moment, she simply laid there, on her stomach, gently rocking her hips, feeling the last remnants of that wonderful orgasm, wishing the toys would fire back on, her survival instincts nonetheless slowly taking over.

She was still tied up in an unknown place. She had to get out, or at least, find answers. She turned on her side and gathered her knees under her stomach, using her bound hands to roll up on her knees. Okay, she was kneeling. Now all she had to do was get up. From her first experience, she knew it was impossible to accomplish. She needed help. She needed something to grab a hold on, a wall, a column, but there was nothing like that around. She would have to crawl to the nearest column about 10m away.

There, to her left, in the distance, a steel rod, about a meter long. It was just a short crawl away. She proceeded, making very short steps, thanks to the short ankle chain and also her short wrist chain, not allowing her more than 10cm strolls. But those short strolls, on all four, worked her dildos. She tried to push away the feeling, the strong desires for another orgasm. She was hot as hell when she finally reached the rod. She grabbed it panting, repressing the urge to lay on her stomach and having a go at it again, and, sitting straight on her knees, she put it as close as possible to her body and pulled up, dragging her feet, trying to put her toes down. Slowly she rose, struggling with her high heel posed feet, only for the rod to slip between her legs at the same time the dildos fired, hit the ankle chain, pushing her ankles backward, making her fall on her stomach, her chastity belt landing directly on that rod. She screamed! She screamed of frustration, of annoyance, of pleasure.

She banged her chastity belt against that steel rod again and again, each hit arousing her more, screwing her, until another orgasm engulfed… oh… the vibration stopped. Right there. Just as she was orgasming, the stimulation stopped. She banged like crazy on the rod but the orgasm had vanished. It was just… annoying. Frustrating. Devilish!

She let herself down, fully laying on her stomach, breathing heavily. What was going on here? What was she doing there? And mostly: why?

That orgasm denial left her dead cold. After a moment to catch her breath she used the rod again to rise up on her knees then slowly, carefully, she pulled herself fully up. She stood there for a moment, looking around her, wondering what she should do, where she should go. Follow the trail or go back to that bed and wait it up?

Obviously, her captors wanted her to follow the path. What if she did the opposite? They would have no fun watching her, because obviously, someone was watching, and perhaps, that’s when she would be released.

Her choice was made. She would piss them off. She aimed back for the bed, slowly hobbling her way, using the steel rod as a cane to steady herself. She reached it way faster than on her way out. She let herself drop on it, laying on her back, she raised her bound wrists as high as she could, then, with both hands, gave the finger and waved it around to make sure that all the camera she was sure there was although she couldn’t see any, would see it, that her captors would see it.

Then she closed her eyes and waited.

She had dozed off, apparently, as she was startled by something or someone moving close to her. She opened her eyes. It was getting dark now. She could see people around her although her vision was blurry. She tried to get up but couldn’t. No, she wasn’t tied up, she was like… paralyzed.

She panicked and tried to struggle her way out but, although her brain was sending messages to her muscles, nothing moved.

The people around her, a man and a woman, judging by their body outline, unlinked the shackles on her ankles and wrists, then spread her wide, linking her limbs to each corner of the bed, then they pulled, hard, stretching her. She could feel the tug on her wrists and ankles. They put all their strength to stretch her and tie her shackles to the bed, then they disappeared.

Karen sort of lost it again, feeling sleepy. She tried to fight her bounds but she was simply too tired.

A ray of sunshine heating her latex covered face woke her up. She blinked a few times but couldn’t see. But something hot was heating her face. It took her a moment to realize she was blindfolded. She was tied up on the bed, spread eagle, and very, very stretched. She couldn’t move at all. Something large and long was filling her mouth, going down to the back of her throat, almost choking her. She tried to moan but not a single sound came out. She tried to move and couldn’t.

She could only feel the shackles keeping her spread eagled on the bed. Very tightly. Breathing was difficult, as if something was squishing her waist, her lungs. A corset, perhaps? Her feet also felt different, like pointing, but she couldn’t get them out of that pointing position. In her mind formed the image of a ballet high heel boot. Could that be it?

She tried to squirm her butt but she was so tightly stretched that it barely moved. She even felt a constant tug on her neck. She could nonetheless feel the toys inside her, which seemed bigger than they were before. Before what, actually?

She still had no clue why whe was there.

One thing was sure: she was aroused! What the fuck?

Yes, she was aroused. The feeling of that tight latex coating on her skin, the restricted breathing of the corset, the large gag filling her mouth, being stretched to the extreme, the toys, the chastity belt, blindfold. Being bound out of her control. And again, those toys.

She squished her butt muscles and her thigh muscles, trying to get a feeling. Could it be possible? Her first line of thought was not to get out of her bondage but to get an orgasm?

Fuck! The hell with it. Better enjoy it while it lasts.

As if on cue, as if they had read her mind, the toys became alive. Slowly at first, just a small hum, but she was feeling it alright. Yes, those toys were bigger and surely more powerful. She actually hoped so.

She squirmed. The more she pulled on her bonds, the more aroused she became. Yes, she liked it and the blindfold was adding another level: not seeing where she was. She only assumed she was still in the same warehouse, then it occurred to her that she wasn’t hearing much apart from her heavy breathing and her pounding heart. Yes, there was something in her ears, plugs probably.

Blind, deaf, mute and completely tied up, stretched on a bed, coated in rubber, waist crushed by a corset, her crotch filled with large toys. Oh man! That felt so good!

She rocked her hips up and down, feeling the shackles pull on her limbs every time as there was no play room.

The vibration pattern on the toys changed. They were different and out of sync, throwing her out of sync. She didn’t know when to squeeze her muscles, when to pull on her chains, when to take a breath, but it was arousing like hell.

Hell. Yes, she was probably going to hell after enjoying such a predicament, but hell, if the punishment in hell was something like this, she belonged to hell! (what the hell did I just write here? Bah, the hell with it. It stays.)

She squirmed hard, and lifting her head up pulled on the neck collar, creating a strangling feeling. Wow! Could she really enjoy that?

The toys seemed to become more and more in sync although in different modes: one was vibrating while the other was humping. Shit! That was so good. She pulled on her bounds again, pulling hard on her neck chain, choking herself, gasping for air. She exploded again. A powerful orgasm. She rocked from one limit to the other of her bounds (which wasn’t much). She felt that if she hadn’t been so severely tied down, she would have flown out of the bed. Her struggles made the gag reach the back of her throat, creating another kind of choking effect, sending her on another orgasmic wave.

She was screaming! Her body was on fire! Yet, an observer could only see a slight struggle of the highly stretched gleaming black body on the red latex covered bed. And that observer, or observers seemed to like what they saw. Two latex coated forms, one obviously male, the other obviously female, looking like the one Karen shared a tight encounter with, tightly encased in latex from head to toes, both in corsets, both in chastity belts, both in high heels.

They looked at each other and made an approbative nod, smiling, their mouth and eyes being the only thing breaking their otherwise smooth black latex skin.

They waited on Karen to calm down, to live her orgasm, then the woman approached the tightly stretched body, now mostly immobile, only slightly moving her hips, trying to extract the last drop of pleasure from the toys.

She pressed a button by the bed and suddenly, the tension holding Karen stretched out, released. Her limbs retracted as if an elastic band had just snapped. Then the mysterious woman walked out of the room, followed by the man.

Karen just laid there, stunned by the sudden release, and too tired to move, or was it too afraid to. Could she? Should she? She still had no clue of what was going on here.

Slowly, she reached for her head. She could still feel the heavy steel shackles around her wrists and apparently no length of chain left on them, and they weren’t tied together or to something. She was free. She reached for the blindfold and slowly removed it, her eyes blinking from the harsh sunlight coming from the torn roof of the warehouse, indicating that it was early morning..

Yes, she was still there. Slowly, she gathered her legs and sat on the edge of the bed. Oh, that corset was tight and she had to sit by bending her legs at the hips only, nothing from the waist up would bend.

She stretched a leg looked down at her foot. Yes, that’s what she thought: ballet boots. But… nobody can walk in those. Well, yes, some can, probably ballet dancers but she wasn’t trained for that. She had no choice, really. She had to get up and walk out of that place.

After all, she had been released, meaning she was allowed to leave.

She got up and fell back on the bed a few times, only noticing way later that the mattress had been changed and was now this red latex thing. And each time she fell back on the mattress, it pushed her toys in, making her moan in pleasure, in her head, that is, no sound was produced.

After the fourth try she managed to stay up. One step, arms flapping in the air. Another step. Small steps. But each step she was making made the toys move, and after a dozen or so steps, she wondered if she would be able to get out without orgasming. Then again, there was nothing wrong with that.

The path within the debris was still there. She aimed for it. After about ten meters, she had to stop or she would collapse with another orgasm. She tried to reach her crotch with her latex coated fingers but all they felt was that steel belt forbidding all access. She waited to cool down a little then resumed her walk.

Her brain was fighting two outcomes: getting out or having an orgasm. Could she have both?

She was leaving the wide area and reaching what looked like an exit corridor. As soon as she entered it, hot and aroused as hell, the dildos fired. She collapsed on her knees, head backward, yelling as hard as she could in her head as another powerful orgasm engulfed her. For a moment, she wondered how her body could manage so many orgasms. She laid on her back, knees brought toward her body, legs wide opened, both hands at her crotch fighting the chastity belt.

She exploded again, enjoying the pleasure like she never thought possible. The orgasm was powerful and long. Then, as it slowly subsided, she saw a fog-like cloud descending on her.

“Oh shit, there we go again.” was all she had time to think before everything faded to black.

She was hurting from every part of her body as she turned to her side, feeling the soft satin sheets on her body. The mid-afternoon sun was shining through her bedroom window. She suddenly woke up, startled, the blood rushing into her brain.

“What the hell?” she managed to mumble, looking around, needing a moment to recognized her room.

She was home, in her bed, naked, like she always slept. She had a slight headache, and her crotch felt sore. She looked at her skin and the imprints of seams were visible although almost gone.

“What the hell happened here?” she said, picking up her phone and looking at the date. “Sunday? SUNDAY?? What the fuck happened to Saturday?” she yelled, trying to remember something. Anything. But she remembered nothing. She slept the whole day of Saturday. Somehow.

She got out of the bed, standing up, walking on her toes.

“What the…” she said, lowering her heel down but after a few steps, she was back on her toes without noticing it. She made the trip to the bathroom, refreshed herself and walked back to the bedroom where she noticed a larger box on her dresser.

Puzzled, not knowing what was this and certainly not remembering putting it there, she took it. It was wrapped in plain brown paper. There was an envelope with a card on it. She put the envelope aside and opened the box.

“What the fuck?” she said as she took the first item: a leather harness with a leather flap on which was attached a large red penis-shape… thing.

She looked at it and brought it closer to her head, putting the harness on, as if she had done it countless times. She put the leather flap on her mouth, pushing the large penis shaped gag into her mouth. It went deep. She fastened the numerous straps tightly, tightening it two more times.

Why? How?

She reached for the second item. It was large, heavy and very soft. She took it out of the box. It was some sort of latex garment, nicely folded. She felt the smooth latex and suddenly, there was a lightning strike in her mind. She saw a decrepitated warehouse, she remembered being tied up, having orgasms after orgasms. The scenes were flashing in her mind like a too fast PowerPoint presentation**.

 (**writing “like a slide carousel running at hyperspeed” would not have been understood by the younger generation…)

She put a hand at her crotch. It was wet. She was hot. She unfolded the garment, revealing a complete latex catsuit, with attached toe socks and gloves. It was thick and appeared to be cut on the small side!

Down in the box, a pair of high heel ballet booties, along with a chastity belt and a set of leather cuffs.

“What the fuck is all this?” she asked herself, puzzled, disturbed, and horny at the same time.

She looked at the envelope and pulled out the card. The card was all black and gave out a strange feeling. Karen flipped it out a few times. Yes! It was rubber. The cart was made out of rubber. It was printed in formalShe  white fonts:

From: The Black Club.

Your job interview to work at the Black Club has been passed with great success. You are hired.

You start to work as soon as you are ready.

Please wear the enclosed uniform when coming to work, although it is not forbidden to wear it at different times.

Job Title: Entertainment Object.

She wasn’t sure what she was getting herself into but she sure as hell was not going to turn that job down. She looked outside at the sun. Yes, it was about the time she should be heading for work. No matter what time it was.

© monsterp63

6 of May 2023

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3 thoughts on “Karen – The Black Club

  1. Great story – and with lots of potential for more within this “Black Club” setting.

    Also: Nice combination of tight jeans/clothes and rubber.

    Thank you.

    1. Thank you marp.
      I saw an opportunity to put a lot of different outfits, so I went for it, instead of Karen just waking up in full rubber. That also gives opportunities for more, ahem… action.

      I don’t have anything planned ahead for the “Black Club”. Maybe something will pop-up some day.

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