She got to the door of her apartment, panting, her legs burning, but smiling. Climbing five flights of stairs in jeans so tight that she could barely reach each step, add skyscraper high heels, a very tight spandex leotard and a skin-tight leather jacket, and it would do this to you too.
But she was smiling. She just loved it and her hand reached for the front zipper, going down, feeling the tense denim and slightly tease her burning crotch.
Her expression changed from pleasure to puzzling when she saw that large box by her door.
“Strange. I didn’t order anything,” she said, looking at the shipping label.
It was indeed addressed to her, but no return address, no company name, just a plane address label.
She unlocked the door, took the box inside, and put it down on the kitchen table. With her hands still wrapped in her tight leather gloves, she reached for the scissors in the drawer and opened the box.
She pulled the flaps open. The box was filled with those large airbags to protect the goods and when she opened one of the flaps, she ripped one open. For a brief moment, she thought she smelled roses or something like that, but it was over as soon as the next breath.
She took the rest of the inflated plastic packaging bags away to reveal the content. She frowned.
There were quite a few items in this thing. First, another box and a bag. The bag seemed to contain something soft, like clothing, or fabric along with a bottle. She put the first large box away to reveal the second box. That one was heavy. Again, she put it aside to reveal the last box, again, which she put also on the dining table, getting rid of the original box and its packaging bubbles.
She began with the envelope. It contained a heavy piece of… rubber? What the heck? She unfolded it and it revealed to be a full catsuit, complete with attached gloves and toe socks. Weird. The bottle was some lubricant, needed to put on such an extreme garment, and also a little paper with instructions on how to put everything on. That was clever.
The box had some sort of rigid helmet with a face molded on it?
“What the heck?” she asked, giggling, but getting… interested.
The second box contained a heavy corset and a set of latex underwear, the panties having quite large… toys, attached to it.
“Yeah, right,” she said, slowly rubbing her tightly compressed hips in her extremely tight jeans.
And each box she opened had that strange strawberry smell. Just a hint. She put it on the hypothesis that, whoever packed those items had a strawberry perfume.
The heavy box? Steel! Steel cuffs, collar, and a large belt with a strap. Oh, she knew what it was, she just couldn’t believe it: a chastity belt.
“Come on!” she said, nodding in disbelief. “And what’s in box number four? Yeah. I can’t understand why I’m not surprised. Ballet boots… Okay, who’s the wise guy?” she said, looking everywhere for a card, a note, a letter, anything that could hint who sent her that and why?
“Well, Karen, you always wanted to try latex. Here’s your chance,” she said to herself, giggling.
But first, she had to peel off her tight leather jacket, which was a struggle. Putting it on was already a struggle, sliding it over her shoulder-length gloves, but getting it off was really a problem. But she didn’t mind, she liked the struggle, but mostly the restricting feeling of two tight layers over her arms and elbow, limiting the range of movement and also, preventing her from removing the gloves without taking the jacket off first. Yeah, somewhat of a layer bondage.
Next was her jeans. Undoing the waist button and getting the zipper down was easy. Peeling them off was another matter. She smiled as she ran her fingers along the jeans seam imprinted in her thighs, feeling the temporary 3D tattoo as she liked to call them.
And she was in her red silky underwear. She took them off and picked the hot pink latex bra that was included in the package. It had tiny spikes of rubber inside the cups, tragically positioned to be both disturbing and arousing. She slid over her arms and her head as there were no fasteners, no adjustment, but it seemed to be just the right size. She then looked carefully at the panties with the toys.
She was having wide eyes, looking at the size and length of those intruders. But somehow, she had the urge to try them, to feel them, to… experience them.
She put the panties on to mid-thighs before applying the provided lubricant. Inserting toys wasn’t new to her. She did it before. They were not that size, tho!
Moaning, she slowly inserted them. Since they were both attached to the panties she had to insert them both at the same time, which was challenging. She couldn’t help but twist and squirm as they went in, stretching the openings, filling them, and being horny as hell!
“Uhhh… okay…” she said in one long whisper. “How about that catsuit… where the heck is the zipper? Is that one of those collar entry things I read about?” she mumbled. “Oh well, I doubt I will get through that small hole. Better lube first… Okay… here we go. Shit! That thing is thick!”
She fed the collar and top portion of the suit past her knees then gathered all the suit at her feet, creating a large lump of rubber which was quite cold at first touch. Sliding her feet inside the socks was strange, and even more so when she fed her toes into their individual pockets. She wiggled her toes, looking at them.
“Wow! It’s even better in person than on some video,” she mumbled, looking at them, admiring them. She was getting attracted to the rubber, to the look, to the shine, even if at that moment, it was just her feet.
She pulled the suit up, past her hips, past her waist, and gathered it over her breasts, smoothing the suit as it rode along, pulling the legs up, resting the seam of the crotch firmly on her panties, pushing the dildos. She had to bite her lips not to start to play right then, right now.
Okay, the tricky part. Getting one hand in.
“That thing is going to rip open,” she said as she squeezed her right arm in, searching for the sleeve, finally finding it and pushing her arm in, feeling the tight rubber engulf her arm, her hand, her fingers as it reached the attached gloves. She got her left arm inside the suit, inside the sleeve, and the suit rose up, engulfing her shoulders and her neck with a rather high collar.
She stretched, doing some yoga moves, feeling the tight and thick latex layer take its place, sliding, creating some interesting tickling. It felt awesome. She was in a tight second skin, and contrary to her tight jeans, there were no pinching points, no places where it was pulling more than another one. All was smooth, equal, balanced.
“Uh. I understand the hip around those suits! This is comfy!” she said, “and it looks awesome!” she added as she turned in front of the long mirror of her bedroom, admiring her curves reflecting the lights on her suit, like black liquid tar. Not a wrinkle. She really looked as if she had been painted and the pain was still wet! She noticed for the first time, something written on her chest. 63K. It was melted on, like barely printed, as if the suit had touched it and it had transferred. She found it weird but didn’t mind. Now, only her head, her face was breaking the otherwise seamless look.
“You have to fix that,” she said to herself, picking the box with the helmet. When she took it off, a latex hood fell down. She picked it up. It was complete and with some added features. Like earplugs, a large lump over the mouth and two tubes that would go up her nostrils.
“That is nasty!” she said, looking at the long tubes. But again, when she took it in her hand, there was that strawberry smell and she felt she just had to do it, to put it on, to feed the hoses up her nostrils, to fill her mouth with that soft but very large bulb-like ball.
She didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but she knew she had to feed the hoses first up her nose. She lubed them and she pushed them in, grinning as it was far from an agreeable experience. She wanted to sneeze. She wanted to be caught. She pushed them in and finally, the hood was resting on her face. All she had to do was flip it over her head.
Easier said than done. This thing was also tight and thick.
Her latex-covered hands slipped a few times over it. She became frustrated. With one last hard and harsh pull, she pulled it up, reached the top of her head and quickly pulled it down. forcing the tubes up her nose and the gag into her mouth. The hood came down with a large yoke. She tried to simply place it over her shoulders but she quickly realized that it should go under her catsuit.
She pulled the collar with one hand and worked the collar under her suit with the other, going all around her neck, carefully placing the yoke of the hood so that there would be no wrinkles.
She loved the tight embrace, the isolation she felt. Suddenly, she was alone. the earplugs were dampening most of the sound around her.
She was in her little noise-cancellation… suit. Well, almost sensory cancellation.
She picked the box with the corset and wrapped the thick rubber garment around her waist.
“That’s going to be a tight fit,” she thought, then she grinned. That was surely no match for her jeans.
As she began to tighten it, she had the brilliant idea to put the boots first. A corset is a lot more rigid over the waist than tight jeans, she might not be able to put the boots on after the corset.
So, she proceeded to sit on the bed, which moved her toys, which made her smile, to feed her feet into the knee-high leather tubes. They were easily closed with a side zipper. Whoever chose them knew Karen’s foot sizes to perfection.
She stood up. Her first time in ballet heels. She was unsteady, for sure, but she quickly got the hang of it, making one, two, five steps, turning around and walking back. Yes, she liked that.
“I may very well wear that to go shopping,” she thought as she grabbed the corset lacing and began to pull.
It wasn’t her first time. She had worn a corset before for a Halloween costume. But this one was different. Taller, stiffer, and a heck of a lot tighter!
Using a trick she read in some fashion magazine, she looped the lacing around the knobs of a door, then walked away from it, using her whole weight as a pulling force. And helped with her ballet heels, she could lean forward even more, pulling even harder!
And hard she needed to pull. She wanted the gap to be fully closed. She didn’t know why. She would have been happy with a gap, no matter what it was, this was for show after all, but she had this urge to pull it completely, like the urge she had to remove all the little wrinkles from her hood yoke.
She pulled and pulled, feeling her stomach being crushed, her breath shortened, and suddenly, she began to hear, or rather feel, a series of clicks. Yes, that’s what she wanted to hear. The little hooks lock the corset in place. Yes, click, click, click, click! She pulled and pulled until no more clicks.
Smiling behind her full mouth, she relaxed. She knew she didn’t need the laces anymore so, taking scissors, she cut them and pulled them off.
What the heck was she doing? On, never mind. She just wanted to do it.
The steel cuffs, now. Ankles and wrists, Click, click, click, click. All had that small electronic display but it seemed turned off as it wasn’t lit. She didn’t mind, there was still more steel to put on!
Ah, the chastity belt. It was all chromy and shiny and with this little electronic display.. wait. Why is there an electronic display on the chastity belt? Oh well, there must be a reason. But that wasn’t important. She fastened it and she was glad she had worked hard to close that corset because the belt wouldn’t have fit. It was made for THAT corset! She quickly snapped all the straps together. But as she did, she felt her toys being pushed.
Now, the helmet or whatever that was called. She took it in her hand and examined it. It5 had, on the exterior, headphone-like circular pods on each side of the head.
“I hope the sound quality is good,” she mumbled while turning it upside down, unlocking the two halves and looking inside. The inside was molded with a face. She hoped it was hers! It was made in two halves, front and back. She carefully placed it over her head and lowered it, aligning her face, her nose with the holes in the front end, while pulling down the back portion. Again, that soft smell of roses. Well, that thing smelled good. That was nice.
It was a really tight fit, forcing her mouth shut over that large lump in her mouth.
She put one hand on her face and pushed as hard as she could on the back part with her other hand. Then, as with the corset, a series of clicks were heard and she stopped struggling and pushing when she didn’t hear any more clicks. Yes, that was perfect. Somehow, she knew that was it.
There was only one item left: the collar. It was thick and octagonal in shape. She wrapped it around her neck, aligning the display in the front, then closed it, again, waiting for the clicks to be heard, and not. The collar was so wide that it impaired her head movements. She sort of liked it. The more restraints, the merrier.
Then, she saw the little screens on her cuff lit up. A loot in the mirror and she saw that her cuffs, her chastity belt and her collar, were all seemingly turned on, their display clearly visible. Something was moving at her crotch! Something was pushing at the toys, like trying to enter. She heard a very faint winding noise and suddenly, her toys vibrated. Just one short burst.
She froze. Was that it? That was it? All this for a jolt of vib… OH HELL!!”
She quickly laid on the bed, on her back, hands at her crotch, rocking her hips up and down as the toys went alive inside her. They were vibrating, pulsating, shaking, thumping,
She was gasping for air, breathing through those small hoses and with her chest compressed by the corset, the breathing restriction turned her on like she never thought possible. The feeling of the latex on her skin, the sensory deprivation it brought where she couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t hear anything and now, couldn’t see anything as her eyes turned black, all just emphasis, amplified the sensations.
She was so aroused, so hot, she felt she was melting inside that rubber suit, the pleasure hormones rushing through each and every cell of her body. It was like each cell was having an orgasm. She was rolling her body from side to side, trying to cope with an orgasm she never experienced before.
After what seemed like eons of arousal, the orgasm exploded, hard, strong, powerful, and long. Her body was shaking from head to toe, like caught in an electrical field, getting a 10 million volts discharge!
That was pure pleasure. Pure orgasm.
Exhaustion made her lose the drive to continue. She was panting hard. Her mind was melting. Her crotch was on fire.
As her breathing slowed down, she dreamed of a life of that. A life or orgasmic heaven.
“Damn! I will never want to take that suit off.” she thought.
There was a sting in her ear, like a needle. She reacted, putting her hands to her head, only to feel the rigid covering of her head.
All of a sudden, like a robot, she got up and stood beside the bed, legs slightly apart, her body slowly balancing to keep her balance on her extreme heels. She put her hands on her back, like waiting for something, for an order.
On the opposite side of the street from her apartment building, a dark van was parked. Inside it, someone is asleep behind a computer console. A faint alarm sound is heard. He opens his eyes and looks at his screen.
“Drone 63K acquired and awaiting commands.”
He yawned and stretched his arms while looking at the back of the van, at the five or six other Drones already there. There was one place left, labeled 63K. His harvest was over.
January 12, 2024.
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