Karen – Christmas Present by MonsterP63

Karen – Christmas Present by MonsterP63

The Gift of a Lifetime

The lights from the Christmas trees were reflecting on the walls around her. Sitting on the leather sofa, she was sipping on her glass of wine after sharing dinner.

“This is so great of you to invite me for Christmas, Lynda. It had been a long time.”

“Too long, Karen. I wish you could have stayed longer but four days it is, so four days I’ll take.”

“Yes. It’s too bad that all the trains after January 1 were booked. Oh well, we can plan something else next year, more in advance. Perhaps, that time, you would come to visit me.”

“Yes, that’s an idea,” said Lynda. “Oh, take this,” she said, reaching for an envelope and handing it to Karen. “Merry Christmas”.

She leaned sideways to put her wine glass on the living room table, her corset creaking as she did. She reached and took the envelope.

She sat back, uncrossing her legs, making the tight leather of her pants, ready to split open, add more creaking sounds.

“What is it, Lynda? We said no gifts, remember?” she said, as she delicately opened the envelope, like not wanting to tear it, so it could be used again, you know, that little annoying thing some people do when receiving gifts: trying to save the wrapping paper before stuffing it into a garbage bag.

“I know, Karen, that we said no gifts, but this one is too hard to pass on. Also, it’s my way of thanking you for taking care of my cats when I was away for my work.”

“Ah, that was nothing! They’re so adorable.” said Karen.

“Still. One month of you making a detour to come here every day requires… compensation,” said Lynda, smiling, looking at the envelope as Karen pulled out what was inside.

“Good thing I haven’t moved 500km away at that time,” she said, getting something out of the envelope. She looked at it and frowned.

“I… I don’t get it. What is it?”

“Well, you tell me. What is it?”

“It’s a picture.”

“Yes… and?…” asked Lynda, inviting Karen to go on, to get her to spill it out.

“It’s a picture of a… woman in full latex?”

“Yes, and?…”

“She’s… restrained?”

“Yes… and?… Come on Karen. It’s your dream.”

“Yeah… My dream…” mumbled Karen. “Okay, if you want it out loud. It’s a picture of a woman, fully clad in latex, wearing ballet heels, a corset, a chastity belt, hands in inflatable mittens and some gas mask over her head. There happy?”

“No… Are you?”

Karen put her hands down hard on her thighs in frustration, making a slapping sound on her tightly leather-encased legs.

“I don’t get it, Lynda. What’s this? Why are you showing me this?”

“It’s your gift. It’s my Christmas gift to you.”

“What? A picture of my fantasy outfit?”

“Yes, a picture of your dream outfit… that you’re going to wear for the next three days!”

Karen just stared at her, not moving, almost not breathing either.

“Say whut… what?” asked Karen.

“Your dream outfit. You’re going to be a bondage latex slave for the next three days.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I never said…”

“Ahem…” cut in Lynda, taking her phone. “Let’s see… January 4th, while looking at an Instagram post of a woman in a full catsuit tied to a cross. “What a lucky woman! I wish Lynda gave gifts like that to me too,” and… March 25th while you were reading a story from mp63…”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I… might express that I like those things but… come on…”

“Yes, come on, Karen… It’s Christmas Eve. You’re wearing leather jeans so tight that the seams are almost splitting off and you had problems climbing the stairs to my apartment. By your posture, I bet that you are wearing a corset, and I’m sure you have toys inside too. When you came in, you had high-heeled boots I wouldn’t dare to walk under the rain with, yet you walk in the snow with them, then you changed for your indoor shoes which have what, 12cm heels? And I almost had to fight you so you would take off your leather jacket and gloves, both of which, I almost had to peel off your body. Don’t tell me that this is just a… fantasy.”

“I had a four-hour train ride, so you know, I had to make it… pleasant and… it’s not a corset, it’s a… waist cincer… But… that… I mean… that’s expensive…”

“Yes, that’s why it’s on loan. One of my customers is a professional dominatrix. In exchange for some services, she agreed to… dominate you for three days, including all the latex, all the restraints and all the… domination you crave for.”

“No, no way. I… I won’t do it. Call her and cancel.” said Karen, suddenly not so sure about her fantasy.

“Han-han… the deal is already made. There’s no turning back.”

“Seriously?…” began to say Karen, but at the same time, she felt a gust of wind behind her, and a sweet perfume she didn’t know. She tried to turn around but something heavy pushed on her shoulder, forcing her to lay face down on the sofa.

“What are you doing?” asked Karen as the weight increased and she felt leather-covered hands grab her wrists and force them on her back. Then she felt cuffs, steel cuffs and she heard the distinctive sound of police cuffs as they were drawn tight.

“No, what is thagghmmffff…” she said as a hard ball was stuffed in her mouth.

As the weight still pressed on her back, her feet were grabbed and she felt more steel cuffs being wrapped around them, then she was let go.

She quickly tried to sit then to get up but she was too impaired. Her corset impaired her movements and her hands on her back put her off balance as she tried to get up from the low sofa on her high heels.

She looked up.

There was a woman in full black leather, looking at her.

“I am Mistress Valerie. You can’t call me Mistress, but you won’t because you’ll be gagged.” she said in a dry, almost detached tone. She had a strong accent that Karen had a hard time identifying. Russian? German? Asian? It sounded like a mix of all of them. “I think this will be fun.” she said, with a warmer tone to Lynda.

She grabbed Karen by the upper arm and pulled her up, on her feet. She struggled to find her balance. Mistress Valerie looked at her straight in the eyes.

“Come. Time to prep you.” she said, dragging her along, heading for the guest room, discovering why Lynda didn’t want her to put her suitcase there when she arrived.

She had mixed feelings. Yes, it was her fantasy, but that was it, a fantasy. Oh, yes, of course, she loved tight jeans, corsets, and high heels. She often pointed out images or video clips of women in latex in severe setups, and she mentioned… just a few times… merely ten or fifteen times a month… that she would love to live that.

But between fantasy and reality, there’s a whole other world. She barely realized that the door had been closed and that her police cuffs, wrists and ankles, had been taken off.

“Get naked!” said the dominatrix.

Her tone sent chills down Karen’s spine. That Mistress was plain scary. She was shivering, but she wasn’t cold. Was it anticipation? Fear? Excitement?

She unbuttoned her tight leather jeans and pulled down the zipper, the leather creaking as the tension was released. She then bent down to reach her feet to take off her high-heeled platform shoes, before literally peeling off her leather pants, leaving seam marks on her skin.

Mistress Valerie stayed of ice as Karen was proceeding. She took off her blouse. All that was left was her corset and her underwear. She grabbed the gag with both hands and pulled it out of her mouth to let it dangle around her neck.

“Do… Do I take off the corset too?” asked Karen.

She was greeted by a slap of a riding crop, appearing out of nowhere in Mistress Valerie’s hand, and slapping her hard on the thigh.

“You speak only when allowed to.” was the only answer. “And removing the gag, you punished,” she added after a short pause, sparks in her eyes.

“Humm… okay. I assume I take it off, then,” she mumbled, which was quickly… rewarded, by another slap.

“You need some discipline. I like that. Please, continue.” said Mistress Valerie’s cold voice, although Karen sensed a little… was it hope in her voice?

She took off the corset, its imprint clearly visible on her skin, followed by the underwear.

“Take off everything,” said Mistress Valerie.

“But…” began to say Karen, which was quickly rewarded with another slap.

A little disappointed, she took off her toys. Mistress Valerie pointed to a large suitcase standing by the bed.

“Suitcase on the bed and open it,” she ordered.

Karen complied. She was surprised by the weight of this thing.

“Shit, what do you have in th… Ouch!” she said as she was hit on her butt.

“I’m starting to like you. Spread what contents of the suitcase on the bed,” ordered Mistress Valerie, English being definitely not her native language.

There was a lot of stuff, some Karen recognized, others she didn’t. Some were in individual bags, looking like garments, others were simply as is, like cuffs and chain links She didn’t know what to make out of it. Should she be scared? Happy? Anxious? Should she dread the outcome or should she anticipate it?

“Take bag A,” said Mistress Valerie, with her cold, emotionless tone.

Karen flipped a few bags around to find it. She received a sharp slap of the riding crop on her butt. She was startled and turned around to look at her.

“Hurry.” was all she answered, getting ready to slap her again.

Karen grunted and found the bag.

“Put it on, and your grunting is noted,” said Mistress Valerie.

Karen opened the bag. It was a pair of thick rubber panties with tubes and sheaths. She took them in her hands and looked at Mistress Valerie with a question mark on her face.

“Relief tubes. This one goes in urine canal, and this one for enemas. Very pleasure.”

“Oh… I don’t think…”

She received another sharp slap of the riding crop.

Hands shaking, she put the latex panties on. Using some of the lubricant provided to insert the urethral tube and the sheath in the front, and the other sheath inside her rectal hole.

“You no worry. The dildo sheaths in place,” said Mistress Valerie.

“Uh, hu.” said Karen, squirming a little. This was not exactly comfortable.

“Bag B. Now.”

Without a word, Karen opened the bag. It was a thin clear latex catsuit. She immediately recognized the neck-entry style and proceeded to put it on. It was part of her fantasy outfit. She never wore anything similar but she watched countless videos. She coated herself with the bottle of lubricant that was inside the bag.

Her breath was shaking as the latex wrapped itself around her legs, cold at first but quickly warming up. Well, SHE was warming up, and quickly.

She gathered the thin latex on her legs and pulled the neck opening up to her chest before attempting to slip her arms inside it to reach the sleeves. It took her two tries to succeed. The right arm, followed by the left one. They easily slid inside the already lubricated thin and very stretchy catsuit, down to the attached gloves. She stretched her arms, making large circles with them to help the suit take its place.

She reached down to her crotch to make sure the holed of the suit were aligned with the holes on her body, smoothing out the wrinkles along the way, slowly rubbing her latex-coated fingers over her latex-coated skin, from her thighs to her breasts. It felt so good, even better than she anticipated. She could feel the latex but it was so thin that almost felt as if she was naked. And since it was clear…

She was breathing fast.

“Bag C, now,” said Mistress Valerie.

It was what she expected to be: a clear latex hood. She put it over her head and Mistress helped her get the large yoke under the collar of the suit, smoothing the wrinkles out. The hood had holes for the eyes, small holes for the nose and a slit for the mouth. In fact, there was some sort of pouch at the mouth and when Karen breathed in, it entered her mouth, coating her lips with latex, a feeling she didn’t dislike.

“Bag D,” said Mistress, snapping her out of her daydream.

The bag D contained a pair of black heavy latex panties, or more like a girdle, with two huge and massive… toys.

“Oh my!” said Karen when she saw the size of those. “I’m not sure… ouch!”

Yes, a slap of the riding crop.

With a sigh, Karen pulled the girdle up and gently inserted the large intruders into her lower orifices. She had to go slowly, to let time for the opening to stretch. It was almost painful and she wondered how she would have pleasure out of them, but the inserts had a narrow section near the panties, allowing the openings to close on them, making them slightly more comfortable.

She smoothed down the latex girdle, removing all the wrinkles. She had a glimpse of herself in the mirror of the room. Shiny skin and black shorts. Weird.

“E.” coldly said Mistress.

That bag was larger and heavier. She opened it and smiled. A corset. That she would like. It was made of heavy rubber with quite rigid boning. What puzzled her was the closing. It wasn’t the lacing she expected but some sort of steel wire.

“How does it close?” she asked.

“You will see soon enough.” was the answer.

Karen wrapped the heavy garment around her waist, closing the front hasps. She had to suck in her stomach to do so. It was already tight and she remembered seeing quite a gap at the back. Oh well, no need to fully close it, after all. The corset was long, covering her from the top of her thighs up to her breasts, with half cups.

“Turn around,” ordered Mistress.

Karen complied. She saw Mistress take some sort of tube, reminding her of a kitchen hand blender. She brought it to the corset and Karen heard some winding noise as well as felt the corset tightened. And tightened. And… tightened.

She put her hands on the sides, feeling her waist becoming smaller and her breath shorter.

“That is really tight,” she said.

No answer from Mistress.

She was feeling she was about to be cut in half and was struggling to breathe.

“I think that’s enough,” said Karen, trying to reach it on her back, to turn it off.

“No. Full close,” said Mistress, pushing Karen’s hands away.

“It’s too tight,” she said, trying to reach for it again, but Mistress continued while Karen’s hands were flapping around trying to find an off switch or to get Mistress to drop it or something.

She heard a series of clicks and a hissing sound, but no relief. Mistress turned around, holding a smoking device in her hands.

“Told you it was too tight, you burned it,” she said, pointing at the smoking device.

“No damage. Fusing wires,” said Mistress with a devilish smile.

Karen went wide-eyed! She reached for the opening of the corset and could only feel the seam. No wire, no lace.

“Shit! How do you get it off?”

“No getting off,” said Mistress.

“Not now, but I mean…” SLAP!!

“You talk too much. Silence.”

Karen was breathing in very short gasps, running her hands along the black rubber garment, squishing her waist and being so rigid that her whole upper body was moving in one large piece as if her whole spine had been fused together.

It was incredibly tight and a struggle to breathe, but she couldn’t deny that she liked the restriction of it. And she was somewhat… locked into it!

“Bag F. Now.” Ordered Mistress.

That bag was bigger and heavier. It was another catsuit, black, and very thick. It was also a neck entry. Karen couldn’t wait to put it on and immediately proceeded, but quickly realized that it was so thick that she would barely open the neck entry to feed her legs in. Good thing it was lubricated and sliding on lubricated latex.

She had to pull hard to get it up her legs. That suit was tight. Very tight. Her breath was shaking even more as the suit slowly rose up, covering her in its incredibly tight embrace.

The crotch had two small holes where the hoses from the panties were going through.

When it was time to put her arms inside the neck opening, Mistress had to help her stretch the very tight neck opening, and even then, it was barely stretching enough to get her arms inside it.

“It’s gonna be a problem to take it off,” mumbled Karen.

“No take off,” said Mistress.

“Yeah, whatever,” said Karen, pushing her arms inside the tight sleeves, down to the attached gloves, feeling the right rubber compress her body. As the suit took its place, she also felt the crotch section push against her toys, pushing them deeper, making her moan.

Mistress crouched down, took a pair of snippers and cut off the excess tubes at her crotch, inserting some sort of metal flange.

“Box G.”

When she opened the heavy box, Karen smiled. Yes, it was something she always wanted to try: a chastity belt. The craftsmanship seemed to be very good and she was quick to wrap it around her tiny waist, discovering at the same time that it only had one adjustment which would only fit over the closed corset.

“That may explain it.” she thought as Mistress pulled the crotch strap, linking the steel flanges of the suit with some rod on the crotch band of the belt, before yanking it up.

She heard three snapping sounds as the belt was fastened around her waist.

In the next bag, Karen discovered some kind of flap with a huge lump and more hoses.

“You, silent. Now.” said Mistress. “Swallow!” she ordered as she stuffed the long feeding tube down Karen’s throat.

She tried to reach to make it stop, which Mistress did, only to take some steel cuffs from the stuff lying on the bed, wrap them around Karen’s wrists and tie them up on her back, before resuming the insertion of the tubes, down her throat and up her nose. Once that flap was in place, she took a syringe and inserted some sort of paste inside the gag, making it grow, inflate, inside Karen’s mouth until she saw the cheeks bulging. She wouldn’t listen to Karen’s complaints.

Mistress opened the other bag herself, revealing a thick latex hood. It had two bulbous dark lenses over the eyes and small holes for the nose tubes and the mouth tube. As she did for the girdle, once the hood was in place, she snipped the end of the hoses and inserted steel flanges.

She untied Karen’s hands and ordered her to take the next box: ballet boots.

Lynda was starting to get worried. It had been close to an hour since they disappeared into that room. Surely it doesn’t take that long to get a latex catsuit. She was about to go knock on the door when it opened. Out came Mistress Valerie, smiling, gently pulling on a leash.

Lynda could hear the clinking sound of steel chains and fittings as Karen slowly emerged from the room, hobbling her way with short 15cm steps.

Shocked, Lynda put a hand at her mouth. That woman, she assumed was Karen, was enclosed, from head to toe into a very tight and apparently incredibly thick latex catsuit. Her waist was reduced to an unbelievably small size and was wrapped into a shiny chastity belt. Her head was enclosed into a complete latex hood, her face covered by a gas mask. She was hobbling on ballet boots, her ankles wrapped in steel cuffs and linked with a short chain limiting her strolls. She had more steel cuffs over her knees, on her wrists and upper arms.

Her hands were ending in rubber balls and her wrists were linked with a chain going from one wrist cuff to the other, passing through D-rings on the sides of the chastity belt. More chains were linking her upper arms in her back, allowing them to be as wide as her body but no more.

The leash Mistress Valerie was pulling on was attached to a heavy steel collar, wrapping Karen’s neck.

Karen seemed to struggle a lot, restrained as she was, to follow Mistress’s pull on the leash.

“Oh my god, Karen. I’m so sorry. This was not what I expected. Are you alright?” asked Lynda, getting closer.

Karen slightly turned her head to face her, limited in her movements by the tight latex and the collar, to nod that she was fine. She would have given her two thumbs up but… she had no thumbs.

Yes, that was extreme. Very extreme. It was her fantasy come true and beyond what she thought possible. She could feel the weight of all the steel cuffs, the tightness of her latex skin, the crushing of the corset, the inserts, the gag, her head compressed by the thick hood, her impaired vision thanks to her dark lenses and the small visors of the gas mask, and those heels. She never thought she would be able to walk in ballet boots but there she was.

And all that restriction, the chains, the noise, the tightness, the … everything! She was enjoying all of it. Every second of it. Every struggle out of it. Damn! She was hot!

Mistress slowly walked to the living room, gently, yet sharply pulling on the leash until she sat down, her tight leather outfit creaking against the leather of the chair.

“Coffee.” She ordered.

“Yes, of course,” quickly answered Lynda.

“No, not you. This!” she said, letting go of the leash.

“Oh… sorry. She’s all tied up. She’s going to need help,” said Lynda, aiming for the kitchen.

“No. Don’t help her. IT has to learn.”

Lynda found it weird to call her friend “IT”. She was still Karen under all those layers.

“Uh… Okay…” stuttered Lynda.

Karen stood there for a moment. Yes, okay, she wanted coffee but… what kind of coffee? Dark? Milk? Sugar? A mix? There was a quick and sharp zap in her crotch. She twitched but hesitated to move.

“I think she’s waiting for the details, how do you want your coffee, Mistress.” risqued Lynda.

“She will learn by trial and error. Only then she will remember,” said Mistress with her strong mixed accent.

Karen slowly turned around and hobbled her way toward the kitchen. It was not easy. With her head fully enclosed in three layers of rubber, yes THREE, as the gas mask was also a complete hood over her previous two, her sense of balance seemed affected and she was often leaning one way or the other, getting her hobble chain to the last link, feeling one cuff tug with the other.

She couldn’t forget the weight of the steel on her and the restriction it all brought with it. That was awesome but… how could she make a cup of coffee? Yes sure, the coffee pot was already full of hot coffee but, she had to take a cup, grab the coffee pot and pour it in with her hands closed in a fist inside balloon-like mittens, that had been filled not with air but with some expanding foam.

Panting, she finally reached the counter and the coffee pot. By bringing one hand close to her body, she was able to get enough slack on the chain to extend her other hand and reach one of the cups that were on the counter. She dragged it close to the front edge, the cup tipping on its side, but then, she couldn’t see it. She couldn’t bend her neck enough to see where her waist was. She took a few steps back, located the cup and hobbled forward, picking it with her balled hands and managed, after many tries, to flip it up. She backed up only to realize that it was flipped upside down.

Not feeling the cup, it took her four attempts to have it in the upright position. Next was taking the coffee pot. Using her balled hands, she pulled it out of the coffee maker. She gently lifted it up and poured coffee into the cup.

She made a few steps back. Damn! Did she make a mess! Most of the coffee was on the counter, not in the cup. Five times. That is what she needed to fill the cup. She carefully grabbed it and headed for the living room, spilling half of it along the way, but the challenge had been awesome from her restriction fetish point of view!

She reached Mistress and extended her hands to offer her the dripping, half-full coffee cup.

“Wrong. Do it again.”

Karen turned around and a sharp zap on her crotch startled her and she dropped the cup which shattered on the floor, spilling the coffee and ceramic bits everywhere.

Karen looked down, at Mistress, at Lynda, at the mess on the counter. What should she do? Clean the mess or get another cup?

“I’ll get the mop. Don’t worry, Karen,” said Lynda.

“NO!” yelled Mistress. “She will make coffee then clean. It is ITS.. tasks. Yes, task.”

Lynda stopped in her tracks while Karen resumed hobbling to the counter. Okay, that was bad. What now? She thought for a moment and added milk.

More spill and two cups later, she was bringing it to Mistress who looked at it, took the cup, took a sip and handed it back.

“Wrong. Try again.”

It was, of course, followed by another zap, but this one, Karen expected it and she didn’t drop the cup.

A little observation thinking here: Mistress looked at the first cup and rejected it. She took the second cup to try it. So, adding milk was right because she based her taste on the color. It means that milk is okay, so it must miss sugar. One, two, or twelve teaspoons?

Four cups later, with 2 broken cups and a total mess, Mistress accepted her coffee. The recipe? Cream and half a teaspoon of sugar. Yes, she would remember.

But for now, she had to clean the mess, her, who couldn’t look down at her feet to mop and swipe the floor.

It took her over half an hour, then she had to bring Mistress’s empty cub back to the dishwasher… oh well, oops. One less cup to clean but one more mess to clean.

That had been a challenge. This had been exhausting. This had been arousing as hell! She was hot, horny and she needed a good stroke. All she wanted was to lie down somewhere and have an orgasm! That fantasy of hers was simply too good. She loved it.

She walked back to Mistress, hoping to get relief, but she simply stayed there, browsing on her phone, not even acknowledging Karen’s presence. She gently moved from one leg to the other, to keep her balance and also, hoping to attract Mistress’s attention.

“Stop moving.” she simply said, not even getting her eyes off her phone.

Karen tried but she did have to keep her balance on her extreme footwear. Plus, her feet were aching. She was used to high heels where she could put some weight on her heel to rest her toes, but not this time. And the huge toys, although silent, were getting annoying and she was slightly moving to keep it interesting. And to keep her balance, she had to move sometimes sideways, other times, front and back. But apparently, this displeased Mistress.

“Her feet must hurt,” said Lynda. “Maybe if she just sits down…”

Mistress looked at her with fire in her eyes.

“I… I was just suggesting… miss… Mistress.” stuttered Lynda.

“Bed. Now,” said Mistress, getting up.

Karen had an inside sigh of relief. Yes, lying down would be welcome. Mistress took the leash and dragged her into the bedroom, forcing Karen to walk very fast on her very short hobble chain, almost stumbling forward. She yanked back at her collar a few times to ask her to slow down but she did the opposite!

As she entered the bedroom, Karen aimed for the bed, ready to let herself drop on it, but Mistress dragged her in another direction. Then Karen saw it: a cage on the floor.

Mistress stopped short of it, then without a word, removed Karen’s gas mask, revealing her smooth latex-coated head with only dark lenses, unlinked her wrists and elbows, and opened the cage, simply pointing at it. Karen flexed her arms a few times then slowly crouched down. She hadn’t expected to spend a night in a cage.

That would be awesome!

She crawled on all fours, still limited by the short chains on her legs, and entered the cage. It was large enough to allow her a relaxed fetal position. She took place on the padded mattress. There were some rings screwed to the bottom of the cage, through the mattress, and she had to be careful not to lay on one as it was quite uncomfortable.

Just before she closed the door, Mistress took a padlock and linked Karen’s ankle chain to one of those D rings, then closed and locked the door. She took another padlock and linked her knee chain to another ring.

“Arms, back.” she coldly said.

Karen squirmed to put her wrists on her back. Mistress reached through the bars of the cage and linked them together, again, padlocking them to a ring at the bottom, to end with linking her collar to yet another ring, then adding a blindfold over her lenses, before leaving the room and closing the door.

She was finally able to calm her breathing and really feel her situation: sealed in rubber, waist crushed and rigid by a corset, gagged, tubed and fully restrained in a locked cage. No way she would get out by herself.

Total fantasy enhancer!

She loved it. She squirmed, quickly reaching the limits of her restraints. Oh, man! So good. That was unreal. She could feel, more than hear, the creaking of her latex skin on the leather padding of the cage as she tried to move. And being blindfolded, being alone in the dark, simply enhanced all her other senses, including her libido.

She rocked her hips back and forth, about the only part of her body she could move, working the toys at the same time. If only… What was that? She was feeling something touching her. She felt a tug on her chastity belt from the back and she was quick to realize that it had been linked, probably to the bars of the cage. Now she could not move away from the bars, but she could get closer… Uh… no. It was linked from the front too. Now, she couldn’t even move her hips.

That increased her feeling of helplessness, but what about her pleasure?

“You good. Reward.” she faintly heard.

Reward? Well, yeah. She was expecting the cage to open, her bounds to be released, but a few moments later, it started. Her crotch began to vibrate. Ooh. That was good. She immediately responded by squirming, quickly reaching the end of her restriction.

The pleasure kicked in. Yes, she could feel the restriction, live the restriction. She was very well aware of the restriction as the vibrations increased.

The toys seemed to also gently twist inside her, making her squirm even more.

Damn! She wanted to roll on her stomach. She wanted to reach her crotch with her hands. She wanted to stretch her legs.

But she couldn’t. Even moving her head was almost out of the question.

She squirmed as the vibration increased, or perhaps, it was simply her sensitivity to the toys. Then, she was sure, the toys began to hump, to kick.

Of fuck! She was hot. Very hot. So hot that the orgasm built quickly and also released quickly, but powerfully.

She screamed as she twisted and turned more and more, in her head more than in the cage. From the outside, she was witnessed squirming, reaching the end of her restraints again and again, her latex catsuit creaking against the leather padding of the cage.

Although in her head she was screaming of pleasure, no sound came out of her fully gagged mouth, and the tube preventing her vocal cords from working kept her totally silent, except for the rushing air in and out of the nose tube as she was racing to breathe.

Her mind was seeing stars, fireworks. Small electrical shocks entered the play, very well timed as if the toys had brains of their own and knew exactly when and how strong to fire. She thought she had reached the top of her orgasm.

Oh, was she wrong? She exploded again, even more powerfully than the first orgasm as the second one triggered before the first one subsided, adding itself to it.

She squirmed even more. She could feel the steel links, padlocks, cuffs, everything clicking against each other, pulling on the rings, on the cage bars, although she physically, barely moved.

As the toys continued to dance, she experienced her third orgasm in a row, again more powerful than the previous one.

She felt she was going to explode! The breathing restriction created by the small nose tubes, the corset, her position inside the cage, her restriction were all adding themselves to create the ultimate feeling. She was disconnected from reality and was inside her little cocoon, living it all. Enjoying it all.

Her body relaxed as the third orgasm slowly subsided, her breathing slowing down, her heart rate going down. She relaxed and quickly, exhaustion had the best of her, and she fell asleep.

Her jaw was aching. Her arms were aching. She longs to stretch her legs. She wanted to take a full, lung-expanding breath. She wanted to bring her arms forward. She wanted to move. She had had her orgasms, she had lived her fantasy. She was satisfied. She was ready to get out. She felt rested. What time was it? Surely, the sun was up and they were just waiting for a sign that she was awakened to get her out of the cage. Then, she will ask to end it. She had enough. No need to go on for three days now.

She squirmed to attract attention, feeling her restraints, feeling the toys.

Little did she know that it had only been one hour since her orgasmic fireworks and that Mistress, as well as Lynda, were sound asleep.

The fun had passed. Now she was uncomfortable. Her toes were beginning to hurt. The arm she was resting on was getting numb. She wanted to move, to roll to stretch, but each time she tried, she was blocked by the restraints, by the hard tug of the steel cuffs, the chastity belt and the collar on her body.

Maybe if she moved harder… But she could barely move at all, so harder was en euphemism. She tried, and listened.

No. Nothing. She would only have to wait, but for how long? What time was it? She spent the rest of the eternity alternating between dozing off and being awakened. Time seemed to have stopped. For a moment she figured that she was left in the cafe for a full day. Well, that would serve her. It was part of her fantasy. Was.

A gentle tug on her collar woke her up. Finally, she was getting released. First, the collar, then her arms, then her waist, knees, and finally her ankles as the door was opened. The blindfold was finally removed revealing that it was early morning as the first rays of the sun were shining through the window.

Morning? Really? It was just the morning or was it the day after? Did she spend the night in the cage or a full day? By her aching, she bet on 36 hours.

Crawling backward, she slowly backed out of the cage and kneeled, waiting for her legs and arms to wake up. Mistress wasn’t waiting and she was quick to pull up on the leash, forcing her to stand up. Damn, her feet were still aching. It was a difficult maneuver, Unsteady, wobbly, fighting to keep her balance because her hobble chain was still very well there, she stood up. Mistress took a key and unlocked her ball mittens, opening them in two halves. Inside, were two bags, filled with what was now hard foam, wrapping Karen’s hand and fingers. They had molded her hands to perfection. Mistress took them off, leaving Karen to move her fingers, creating a fist then extending it, her fingers aching from having been forced into a fist for so long.

She did quite a few flexes of her hands and fingers while Mistress was tidying up the room. She finally came back to her and linked her wrist cuffs directly with one padlock, limiting their play a lot.

“Breakfast.” She coldly said.

Again, Karen hesitated. Breakfast? What did she want? Just coffee and some toast? Cereals? Full American breakfast? English breakfast? German breakfast? French Breakfast? A mix and match of all of them? She had about three dozen combinations to try. Then it occured to her that she would figure it out based on what was inside the refrigerator.

Slowly, she hobbled her way to the kitchen, opened the pantry and the refrigerator. Her eyes rolled. Damn it, Lynda. you had to buy everything? She could spend the whole day cooking breakfasts because, well, she was a line cook after all. She knew how to cook.

There had to be a way to figure out what Mistress wanted for breakfast without wasting all the food. Oh, yes, she had an idea. Nothing to lose.

She took the pack of bagels and a pack of croissants, headed for Mistress’s bedroom, and was halfway there when she turned around and prepared some coffee, before hobbling her way back to Mistress’s bedroom, showing her both, the bagels and the croissants.

“No, no. Coffee, good.”

Okay, that was a good start. She hobbled her way back, this time slower. It was making the toys wobble too in their own universe and it was disturbing. And it pleased Mistress as she sent the toys on vibe for about fifteen seconds, enough for Karen to bend her knees. Damn, that was good, and she almost dropped what she was holding!

Another trip: English muffins or bread. English muffins it was.

By this time, the coffee was ready. She brought a cup to Mistress along with eggs. Yes.

It took her a dozen trips, with cereals, flour, milk, and more to narrow the choices to a ham and cheese omelet with English muffins. There, that was set. It hadn’t been easy, it involved a lot of struggle with her hands tied together, but she did it.

Now, time to prep the food.

She took one egg, cracked it and was in the process of putting it in the mixing bowl when her toys fired up, making her drop the egg on the counter.

Mistress laughed. Karen didn’t. She quickly wiped the mess and cracked more eggs, adding milk, creating the perfect omelet.

It was awkward to cook with her hands tied together. She couldn’t do two things at the same time. That was slowing her down, it was a challenge and it was also a blast! Damn, she dreamed of working like that, day after day, in the restaurant’s kitchen, all clad in rubber, not worrying about spilling something on her, preparing food while tied up. That could be fun.

For a moment, while preparing the food, she daydreamed, imagining herself in the restaurant’s kitchen. She could even figure out anchor points where she would be linked. She was imagining her co-workers in equally restrictive outfits and setups. That gave her an idea: opening her own restaurant: The Kinky Dinner. Yes, sounded nice.

She was halfway done when she heard more noise. Came out a very sleepy-looking Lynda.

“What the heck is going on here? It’s 05:30, damn it… Oh… sorry Mistress. I haven’t realized that… I’ll get myself a coffee.” she said, aiming for the cabinet to take a mug.

“No. Slave do it.”

But… but… I’m cooking here! Tried to convey Karen, but she received a short shock. Panicking, her attention switching between her omelet and serving coffee, she managed to do it, not without slightly overcooking the omelet.

Every time she moved, she was reminded of her setup. Bending her arms? She was feeling the latex extend on her elbows, she was seeing the light reflecting on them. Getting closer to the counter, she would inevitably hit her chastity belt on it, was was not unpleasant. She might have hit it more than she really had to.

She was balancing on her ballet heels, feeling the weight of the shackles and the limited hobble chain.

Each time she bent, she was feeling the corset and the stiff collar. Damn, the number of times she had to step back from the counter to figure out what was where so she could grab it as she couldn’t see straight town, was overwhelming. Well, it gave her reasons to hit her belt on the counter, wasn’t it?

Finally, she carefully folded the omelet and brought it to Mistress, with her English muffin.

Mistress was delighted by the results, the melting cheese pouring out.

“Good slave cook,” she said, giving Karen a good vibration, making her grab a hold of the counter. Oh yes, that was good. She would take more, longer ones, and a lot more. She repeated the same question exercises to Lynda, but she was having none of it.

“Just toast and peanut butter, please.” she said.

“No,” said Mistress. “She has to learn.”

“But that would take too long, especially since I never eat the same thing.”

“Good them. Makes her struggle,” she said with a devilish laugh.

Karen waited some more to see if Lynda changed her mind but she didn’t. So, toast and peanut butter it was.

Now, although she didn’t smell anything of what she cooked, which was weird, she was also hungry. She gestured mimicking eating.

“Yes, you eat after us. Clean dishes before,” said Mistress.

“Okay, she understood that but… how? She was gagged. Could she pull on it? She tried and Mistress quickly gave her a shock.

“No… Mixer.”

Mixer? What was she talking about?

“You,” she said, pointing at Karen, “food, mixer… paste.” she said, pointing at something on the counter.

Karen looked and her eyes widened. A blender? And next to it was some large syringe. She would have to put her food into a fucking blender? Well, come to think of it, that was the only way she could eat, right?

She looked at Mistress then at Lynda to make sure this wasn’t a prank. It wasn’t. Although she was hungry, she felt that she couldn’t eat much with her waist crushed as it was. She put one toast, and a piece of cheese in the blender and mashed it. It gave out a rather crumply product that wouldn’t go into a syringe. Then she had a thought. She gradually added coffee. She wouldn’t taste it anyway, but she would have the… nutrients.

A few minutes later, she was struggling to find the connector at her mouth but Mistress was offering no help.

“Learn by doing.” she simply stated.

Finally, Karen found it and pushed the paste into the tube, feeling it enter her stomach. That was a weird feeling but it was obvious that most of it got stuck in the tube. She filled the syringe with more coffee and pushed everything down until she felt full.

That had been the weirdest way to eat she ever experienced… and she was a cook!

So, breakfast had been served, everything was cleaned. It was 08:00. What now?

Well, proper etiquette is for the slave to stand next to her mistress, right? That’s what she did, waiting for the next part. Actually, she waited for some reward. Surely it would be more than once a day. In her fantasy that is.

After ten minutes of standing there with nothing happening, she figured that it was probably the best time to ask to be out. Her fantasy had been fulfilled. No need to extend it to three days. She lived it all: tight latex skin, corset, bondage, cage, cooking. Her mind was filled with more fantasies that would never be realized, like living her full life like that, going to work, to events, shopping, etc.

She tried to convey her desires. Being behind Mistress, only Lynda saw her gesturing.

“What are you trying to say, Karen?” asked Lynda. “I don’t understand.”

Mistress turned around to look at her.

“No permission to talk,” she said, picking up her phone and sending a sharp zap. Karen’s knees bent and her hands reached her steel-covered crotch. But she repeated her gestures.

“I still don’t get it. Do you understand what she’s trying to say? She might be having a problem.” said Lynda.

Mistress looked at Karen.

“No. Three days.”

“What? Oh… I get it now. You want to get out of it?” asked Lynda.

Karen nodded a clear YES.

“Well, Karen, your fantasy was for a full week. The deal with Mistress was for three days. It hasn’t been 24 hours yet, and you already want out?”

Another yes nod.

“No. Contract three days,” said Mistress with her strong mix of accents. “Three days it is.”

“But she…”

“No. Three days. Needs discipline to accept.” said Mistress getting up.

She unlinked Karen’s wrists and then twisted them on her back, putting her wrists between her shoulder blades before padlocking them again. She grabbed a short link of chain, she always seemed to have some chain or padlock on her somewhere and linked her wrists to her collar and her elbow cuffs. She walked to the bedroom, her heels clicking and her leather creaking, and came back with a leather strap and two steel rods.

She wrapped the leather strap around Karen’s chest, grabbed her arms and tightened it so that Karen’s arms were pretty much crushed on her back before adding a padlock to the locking buckle of the leather strap.

She kneeled at Karen’s feet, removed the link at her knees and ankles and added the two steel rods, a short one at the knees and a longer one, about 40cm, between her ankles.

“Oh, forgot,” added Mistress, going back to the bedroom to come back with the gas mask.

A short moment later, Karen was, again, almost deaf, with an impaired vision, useless arms and a very difficult way to walk and move around.

Shit! She loved it! She always wondered how a reverse-prayer tie would feel. Now, she knew and it was awesome! And as she tried to walk around, the spreader bars proved very impairing, making her struggle a lot to keep her balance on her pointed footwear. If that was her punishment, she could live with that. Yeah, she realized at the same time that her fantasy wasn’t over because she was out of ideas.

The other point was that, tied up as she was, she could do nothing else than just… stand there, as Mistress went back to browse her phone.

It took her only about five minutes to fully realize the extent of said punishment. That was a hard position for her arms. She was constantly balancing from one foot to the other, and it was merely impossible for her to sit with her legs like that as it would twist her knees badly if she did so.

She began to squirm in discomfort. Mistress had a few glimpses at her but went back to her phone.

“I… I think she’s hurting, Mistress.” softly said Lynda.

“Good, then. She will learn. No complaining.”

That half hour had been hard, but she was hot as hell! How come? Well, her constant balancing was moving the toys in her crotch. Oh, slightly, but in the long run, these slight moves created a rubbing that increased relentlessly. She added to it by slightly leaning forward and backward.

The breathing became even more difficult with her arms like that, and the gas mask, and her feeling of being isolated from the exterior, all of it enhanced her feelings. Damn, she was a sicko. Who in her right mind would like something like that? Well… herself, obviously. She was discovering more about herself than she had been in the 26 years of her life so far.

Eyes closed, experiencing everything she was feeling, she imagined herself back in her kitchen, but as the main chef this time, tied up like that, fully enclosed in rubber, watching her bunch of sub-chefs, all equally clad in rubber and bondage, males and females, preparing food per her orders. How such orders were conveyed she had no clue, but in a fantasy mind, everything is possible.

She opened her eyes, hearing strange noises behind her. She slowly turned around, hobbling with her spreader bars, and saw Mistress on a small stepladder, screwing a hook to the ceiling.

She got back down, stored the step ladder and dragged Karen under the newly installed hook, only to link her wrists to it, pulling them up.

It was easing the strain on her arms but at the same time, it was pulling her upward.

That was a strange feeling. One thing for sure, she wouldn’t move from there!

“You still want to out?” asked Mistress.

Actually, that was one of the toughest questions Karen had to answer. What would Mistress do with the answer? If she said no, would she add more to her predicament so she would want out again? If she said yes, would she still add some more to make her life more miserable? She saw no way of getting it easier.

It was not as if she wanted it either.

She gently squirmed, feeling the pull of the ceiling chain on her wrists, on her arms, even taking some weight off her feet, which helped a lot.

Mistress simply smiled and went back to her phone.

From the glimpse of the clock, she had been there a little over an hour when Mistress untied her arms from the reverse prayer position. Karen could barely feel them and was flexing them a lot to get the blood flow. But it was short-lived. Mistress added another spreader bar, this time between her wrists, keeping them a good 60cm apart in front of her.

“A slave not working is waste,” she said, turning to Lynda. “She needs to cleaning.”

Lynda seemed taken by surprise. She was a clean freak herself. Everything in her apartment was sparkling clean. There wasn’t a speckle of dust anywhere.

“Uh… Oh… Hum… Yes. I think I can find something,” she said, getting to her broom closet. She picked a feather duster and showed it to Mistress. “Will this do?”

“Yes. Good.” said Mistress, picking it up and going back to the bedroom, to come back with a roll of wrap.

“Right or left?” she asked Karen.

Since she was left-handed, she raised her left hand.

“Good.” said Mistress, taking her right hand and putting the dusting feather in it, then wrapping it with the roll of vet wrap she had just brought.

How to make someone struggle? Force them to use their weak hand, of course.

“Get to work.” said Mistress.

She had no way to switch hands and she was very clumsy from the start with her right hand, and now, both her hands were linked together with a spreader bar, making it even more awkward to use.

She began by dusting the table, the TV and some shelves of the bookshelf, taking great care not to go near any of Lynda’s extensive porcelain figures collection. And taking great care meant not working very fast.

“She’s slow. Faster.” said Mistress in her cold commanding voice. Karen tried to comply but she was just doing a shitty job. “The dolls. Do the dolls.” she ordered.

“NO!” said Lynda. Mistress turned to her, surprised by the sudden outburst.

“Those are porcelain dolls. She could break one.” said Lynda, walking to the dolls as to act as a shield between Karen’s dusting feather and the dolls.

“She will learn. If she breaks one, she gets punished.” said Mistress.

“Yeah, but… No. These are collectible, one of a kind. I don’t want her to dust them.”

“Okay. But she will get punished for not doing proper job.”

Karen moved her head in a “WhuT??? What the fuck did you just say?”.

“That would be unfair.” said Lynda.

“No. No work. Punishment.”

Lynda glanced at Karen.

“I’m… sorry.”

Karen nodded and continued her dusting.

Close to noon, she was instructed to prepare some lunch. The dusting plume was removed from her hand and they were freed of the vet wrap, but she wasn’t untied in any way and even kept her gas mask to prepare something light.

Man, she loved the challenge. Everything that she did reminded her that she was restrained, from her eyesight to having no sense of smell, no sense of touch, to being tightly encased in this tight and unforgiving latex and corset, balancing on pointed boots.

After lunch, she had to clean everything, still all tied up. Then Mistress dragged her to the living room, and removed her leg spreader bar to… install a longer one! She changed her wrists spreader bar with a longer one, making her arms spread so that her elbows were bent at ninety degrees and linked the center link of that bar to her collar, making some sort of bondage stock. She then linked her collar to the ceiling hook, leaving her ‘dangling’ in the middle of the living room.

“Nice job. Reward.” she said, turning the toys on.

Karen squirmed. Oh, yes, it was good, it was welcomed but she would have preferred a different position, like… lying on the floor, maybe?

Nonetheless, the toys did their jobs, quickly bringing her to a powerful orgasm.

The orgasm itself was weird because she would flex her knees, which would strangle her. That strangling became an arousal point, making her orgasm stronger, making her bend her knees even more. She was choking herself to pleasure!

That was weird.

She had to fight her legs to keep them straight. Mistress was looking at her with devilish eyes, like she knew exactly what she was going through.

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” said Lynda.

“Yes. Good harsh.” she answered.

Karen was having a hard time, but she was learning ‘her place’ as a latex slave… Wait. What? She daydreamed again, seeing herself at work, in the kitchen, employees tied up in different ways, manning their stations, cooking for the masters, enjoying their bondage. Damn, she was hot at the thought, squirming her butt to feel the dildos as they fired once more.

Mistress seemed totally disinterested in Karen’s squirms, looking at her phone. There was a notification sound and she jumped up as if she had been stung on the butt as she was reading some text.

“Oh… Must… Must go. Now..” she said, leaving in a hurry.

“Wait, Mistress, where are you… Hey, wait!” said Lynda, following her out the door. “Wait… Miss… When are you coming back? Wait…” she said, disappearing into the corridor. She came back a minute later. By this time, the toys had fallen silent, probably losing the connection with Mistress’s phone.

“Well, Karen, seems that it’s just you and me for now,” she said, looking at the bound woman in front of her. “I’m sure she’ll be back, I mean, all her stuff is here. But in the meantime…”

She approached slowly, putting a hand on Karen’s shoulder, gently rubbing her sleek black latex skin, slipping her hand down, toward her breast, gently squishing it while sensually looking at her, at her… glassine visor of the gas mask down to the tinted lenses of her hood.

Soon, Lynda’s other hand joined in the touching. She ran them over her shoulder, her upper chest, down to her lower chest, her waist, feeling the rigidity of the corset, the tightness of the catsuit. Her hands reached down to Karen’s thighs, slowly rubbing their way to her butt, as she approached and put her body against hers, squishing them together while pulling on Karen’s butt. Hard.

Karen would have moaned. That touch was the first real touch she had since the day before, and feeling another hand through her latex layer was weird. She could feel the warmth of the hand but not the hand itself, as Lynda ran her hands to her chastity belt, yanking it up a little, playing with the toys, making them move within the little play her tight belt allowed to.

Lynda took a step back and picked up her phone.

“Okay… let’s see…”

Karen jolted.

“Ah, yes connected! Oh, cool those options.” she said, looking at Karen. “Oh, yes, I had a glimpse at the app Mistress was using and downloaded it, meaning that… I am in control now. Okay… Well, I just hoped she left the keys… ah, here they are.” she said, locating them on the living room table.

She picked them up and removed the arm spreader bar. Karen let out a sigh, but it was short-lived. Lynda quickly re-linked her wrists and elbows on her back and linked the wrist to the hanging chain, forcing her to bend forward in a very extreme strappado position.

“Time I have some fun with you, shall we?” said Lynda. “Okay, what is this for?…”

Karen jolted and bent her knees.

“Ah, okay. Zapping. Now… if I read this right, this function here would make them vibrate, this one would make them twist and… let’s see, this one should make them… hump?” she said as she pressed the control.

Karen immediately began to squirm.

She was getting punished and turned on at the same time. Her knees bent, putting more strain on her arms, forcing her to bend, which increased the sensation in her crotch. Lynda raised the power. Karen closed her eyes. She would get it. She would let herself be engulfed by the pleasure. She didn’t care about the bondage, she didn’t care about the pain, the uncomfort. Well, in a way, she did care because the more uncomfortable she was, the more aroused she became.

Fuck, she liked it.

She threw her head backward, ready to let the orgasm engulf her but… everything stopped.

She threw herself against the limits of her chain in frustration.

Lynda laughed. Loudly.

“Damn! Did I cut that at a bad time?” she asked, definitively knowing the answer. “Oh… sorry,” she added with a smirk, “it’s just that I want to try the little function here… It says… uh? Wow. Wait here!” she said, leaving for her bedroom.

Wait here… yeah. Like if she was in a position to go anywhere.

Lynda walked out of her bedroom nearly ten minutes later and headed for the lit Christmas tree.

“Silly me, it was just here!” she said, picking up one of those little bells.

She brought it to her phone and made it ring once, touched a few keys, and rang it again. This time, Karen twitched.

“It works! Okay, I will hang the bell here, on your collar, oh it looks so cute, and I will put the phone… eu here on the table. Now, let’s see if the app works as it is described.” she said, clapping her hand.

Nothing happened. She screamed and yelled at her phone. Nothing. She hit the table: nothing.

She flicked the bell and Karen reacted, getting zapped. But… why?

“You’ll figure it out.” said Lynda, with a devilish smile, sitting to watch some WokeFlix.

Karen feared that the sound of the television would trigger the zapping, but it remained silent. She was gently squirming in her severe strappado.

Then, out of nowhere, both dildos fired at full power. Karen jumped at the surprise, which made the bell ring. As soon as it had started, the dildos stopped and she was zapped.

Frustrating, you say? Fuck, yes.

A few moments later, the dildos fired again, still at full power. Karen jolted again, and, yes, again, rang the bell. Stop and zap.

In her mind, she began to count. One-Thousand-One. One-Thousand-Two… One Thousand-fifty-four… Dildos fired! Karen jolted. Stop and zap.

Karen counted again, but this time, at One-Thousand-Fifty, she began to brace for it. She was at sixty-three when it fired, but since she expected it, she was relaxed and didn’t move enough to ring the bell.

That was a devilish setup. Ringing the bell would stop the dildos and zap her, and then would be silent for about a minute. And the dildos were at full power, vibrating, twisting, and humping at the same time. The pleasure grew fast. Very fast. Too fast. Eyes closed, she began to sway on her bondage position, twisting her butt, flexing her knees, bringing her arms up, forcing her head down… DING!

All stop, and a powerful zap! More powerful than the first ones, making her jolt, ringing the bell again, triggering another zap!

That was uncalled for! Why? She was panting, trying to calm down and NOT ring the bell. Lynda was watching her, giggling.

“You should see yourself squirm! So… Do you like it?”

Karen nodded a hard no… DING! Oh, fuck!!

She had lost count. Sixty… Eighty… One-Hundred… One-Fifty? What the heck… One-Hundred-Sixty: Dildos fired!

She was caught half off-guard, but she caught it, dampening her jolt of sudden vibration on her crotch, enough to not ring the bell. Again, as the orgasm grew… Ding! Zap!

She counted… What will it be now? At Fifty-Nine, it started again. In the few moments of lucidity she had, she made the math: one ring: one minute. Three rings: three minutes!

The devilish thing was that, when she would orgasm, it would stop and zap her, meaning at the worst possible moment. Four more times that happened, but by then, Karen couldn’t cope with it anymore. Her feet were killing her. Her shoulders were ready to tear apart.

She shook her head repeatedly, getting zapped consistently. Lynda got the message and quickly turned the app off and got Karen out of her predicament, lying her down on the floor of the living room, still very well tied up with her arms in her back and the spreader bars on her legs.

But at least, her feet were getting some rest and she wasn’t getting zapped. Lynda removed the gas mask.

“I’m sorry. I’m sort of… new at this. Here… Will you forgive me?” she asked, taking her phone.

The toys became alive inside Karen’s crotch. Her body stiffened, making her feel how restrained she was. Oh, it was so wonderful! She squirmed as the orgasm built up, but her mind was expecting it to end in a zap at any moment. She was surprised when the orgasm exploded.

It was as if she was living it for the first time. her first orgasm. Again. Everyone seemed new, or was it different? Her body was shaken by convulsions as the orgasm engulfed her, the pleasure waves running from head to toe to head to toe, each time, exploding while passing her crotch. It enhanced her feeling of bondage as her legs and arms couldn’t move. Her flexing muscles increased the feeling of tightness of her latex outer skin. Her corset increased her limited breathing. She was chewing on her gag, air whistling through the nose tubes.

She exploded again as the dildos changed their games, moving differently, creating another new orgasm, until she passed out from exhaustion and pleasure. Lots of pleasure.

She was awoken by the distant ringing of a cell phone. She blinked a few times. She reached for her eyes to rub them, only to be blocked by a latex layer and dark lenses. It took her a few moments to remember who she was, where she was, and how she was.

As of now, she wasn’t tied up at all, yet still felt the weight of her steel cuffs, lying on the bed of the guest’s bedroom. She rolled out of bed and stood up on her pointed boots making, for the first time, steps without any hobble chain or spreader bar or anything. She reached the kitchen where Lynda was on the phone.

“… Uh… She’s a customer… I’m an accountant. She’s one of the clients I do bookkeeping for… Really?… I didn’t know that… But… Okay… Ah… But you see I need… Oh… Euh… Say that again, please?… You’re kidding me, right?… Can I talk to her?… I can go down to the station… But…” she said, looking at the latex-clad woman beside her, “There’s a problem here that only… Oh, come on. That can’t be real… I… Uh… Okay… Thank you…”

She put the phone down, her hand shaking, and slowly raised her head to look at Karen who raised her arms in a “What’s going on?” manner.

“Well… Mistress has been arrested.”

Karen leaned forward.

“Apparently, she was part of a cartel of… sex slaves… I SWEAR, I didn’t know anything about it.”

Karen reached and pulled on her steel cuffs.

“Well, that’s the thing: I don’t have the keys and she has already been taken away by the RCMP, meaning…”

Karen understood. She pinched her latex-coated arms and made a scissor gesture.

“You want me to cut you out?”

Karen nodded a definitive yes.

“But… I will have to pay for that suit and it’s expensive… Maybe if we wait until tomorrow, I can manage to get the keys and…”

Karen thought for a moment. She did like it in there. What was one more day? And if they found the keys to the cuffs, she would have the possibility to wear everything… again. That was a nice thought.

She agreed, nodding a yes.

“Okay then,” said Lynda. “How about you cook us some dinner while I figure out what to do next?”

Well, yeah, of course, she can do that. Not that she was really hungry. Her stomach was quite small and restrained and she felt as if she hadn’t digested her lunch.

She set up to work, getting things off the refrigerator and pantry, every time, admiring the light shining on her arm or on her leg. She crumbled her hand into a fist a few times, just to feel the tightness of the rubber around her fingers. She loved the feeling.

She was used to working with nitrile gloves but the thickness of those ones made the experience totally different. And then, there were all the small restrictions caused by the collar, her dark lenses, the corset, and evidently, her chastity belt banging against the counter.

But… Something was missing. Could it be? Nah, It can’t be. But the more she thought about it, the more it became obvious what it was. She turned to Lynda, who was searching for a solution on her computer and banged her steel cuffs together.

“What is it?”

Karen clicked her wrist cuffs together again, then banged them against her belt and clicked her ankle cuffs together.

“I don’t get it. Something wrong?”

Karen looked around and spotted a padlock. She picked it up and clicked it against her wrist cuff.

“You… You want to be restrained?”

The answer was definitely a yes.

“Seriously? Okay then. How do you want it?” she asked.

Karen pointed at Lynda with both hands.

“Oh, you want me to decide. Uh, okay,” she said, looking at Karen for a moment, to come up with a solution. “Except linking your wrists and ankles, I don’t see what else I can do.”

Karen pointed at Mistress’s bedroom then at the ceiling hook in the living room”.

“What… Oh. You want me to look through Mistress’s stuff? I don’t know if that’s wise.”

Karen pointed at the bedroom then at the door."

“Yeah, that’s right… She isn’t there. Okay, I’ll have a look.”

She disappeared into the room while Karen continued her cooking, looking toward the bedroom door from time to time, expecting Lynda to come out. It was taking one heck of a long time.

Finally, Lynda walked out with the heavy suitcase and even grabbed a few things from the living room. She put the heavy suitcase on the dining table.

“I think I have an idea, but I doubt you will like it,” she said with a wink.

How bad could it be, right?

She began by linking Karen’s ankles with the hobble chain, the same one she had been wearing, then she put one padlock in the center link. Karen was puzzled. That lock was not locking anything. Why?

She added a shorter chain between her knee cuffs. She linked Karen’s wrist cuffs together then grabbed a spreader bar, locking one end to the same padlock. Karen was puzzled until she linked the other end of the spreader bar to her collar, forcing her arms to almost fully extend, her elbows bending about 45 degrees. That would impair her a lot.

Then, as Karen tried to cope with the new restriction, she got two D rings from the suitcase, screwing one at each end of the kitchen counter, way at the base. She got two more and fastened them just under the counter, again, one at each end of the counter.

She retrieved a long chain from the suitcase and measured it: yes, it would fit. She linked one end to one of the bottom D rings, passed it through the loop created by the padlock in the middle of her ankle hobble chain, and linked the other end to the other D ring, on the other end of the counter, pulling on it so that Karen was getting closer and closer to the counter.

She did a similar setup with the under-the-counter rings, passing the chain on the front ring of her chastity belt.

This way, Karen could only move sideways and barely get away from the counter. At the same time, the spreader bar on her arms limited her range of reach.

Karen looked at Lynda in disbelief. Her whole body was conveying what was in her mind: “You seriously want me to cook like that?”.

“You’ll be fine. Better getting used to it,” she said with a wink.

Yeah, right. Karen went back to work. It wasn’t easy, but it was fun as hell. Damn it, she liked the challenge. She liked feeling the restriction.

Each time she tried to move sideways, she had to do it with little steps, bringing both feet together, then extending one until the hobble chain was taut, and then bringing the other one next to the first one. Opening her legs, closing her legs. Opening her legs, closing her legs. Again, and again.

You guessed it, it wreak havoc in her crotch. Damn, she was soooo aroused right now. And to make matters worse, or was it better, it was a CHAIN going through the loops, not some smooth cable. So it would snag. It would vibrate. She would have to yank at it to move. Everything she was doing was arousing her!

Oh fuck! Literally.

Finally, the meal was ready and she had to serve it but… how? She couldn’t move from the counter.

She dressed up the plate and then banged repeatedly on the counter until Lynda let go of watching the TV and went to inquire what was the problem. Karen took the plate and handed it to her, as far as she could turn around.

“What? Oh… Yeah. I haven’t thought of everything, apparently. I heard the blender, you made yourself something to eat?”

Karen nodded yes. Lynda removed the chains holding her to the counter and directed her to the kitchen table, where she sat. Then, using ratchet straps from Mistress’s suitcase, she carefully tied Karen to the chair, then took place to eat. Karen pointed at the syringe, ready for her.

“Uh… Isn’t the Mistress or the, what is it, the Dom?… eat first?” she said, giggling.

“You’re really enjoying it, don’t you,” thought Karen about Lynda.

Lynda ate, slowly, obviously enjoying Karen’s meal, then allowed Karen to eat by linking the syringe to the feeding tube and leaving it in her hands, not releasing her one bit.

Once done, Karen was tied up again to the counter to wash the dishes and clean her mess. She used a wooden spoon and hit the counter repeatedly again to attract Lynda’s attention that she was done.

“Hum, okay… I don’t know quite what to do now. How about watching some TV?”

Karen shuddered. She didn’t care, but her feet were aching from all that standing up. She tried to convey the message.

“Yeah, I bet, in those things. Okay, I have an idea,” she said, looking at Mistress’s suitcase and picking a large coil of rope. “Come with me.”

If she had known better, Karen would vouch that Lynda had done this before. She was tied up into a very tight hogtie, but not any hogtie. First, she added a leather harness over Karen’s head and made a quite intricate chest harness with the rope. Then her arms were tied in her back with her elbows together and her palms opened at waist level, bringing her elbows up. Her legs were tightly tied together with ropes at the upper thighs, lower thighs, below the knees and the ankles, then everything was yanked to either her elbow tie or her collar or her chest harness, leaving a few more ropes linked to her head harness, pulling her head back.

She couldn’t move. At all! Damn, that was a tight hogtie!

Lynda casually left Karen there, humming a song as she took place on the sofa, taking all of it lying down, and choosing a movie.

She then put her phone on the table and had the movie play: Deadpool and Wolverine. A good movie but… with the app sound linked to Karen’s toys? It was a disaster waiting to happen!

The fight at the beginning of the movie wasn’t even over that Karen had had her first orgasm. Lynda could tell by the slight rocking of her tightly bound friend. No sound, and no movements whatsoever.

Another orgasm followed soon after. Lynda figured out that her app was maybe set too sensitive, so she lowered the settings.

Karen could relax, but she was in her own world, of over-sensitive body feedback and a constant arousal state. She had never imagined being bound like that even in her wildest dream. It was totally mind-boggling, and it was arousing as hell! She couldn’t move, Even her fingers were somewhat locked against the corset by the tight rope.

The first orgasms really wore her down. A good thing Lynda turned the power down otherwise she would have passed out. For the rest of the movie, she had four more orgasms, each one more powerful than the preceding one. When she was released, she couldn’t move. All her limbs were numb and aching.

“A little too much, perhaps?”

Karen nodded no and did a thumb up.

“Fuck, really? I’ll be damned!” said Lynda. “Okay, I’m ready to go to bed. How about you?”

Yes, she was ready.

“Well, I have to keep a close eye on you, in case something happens, so… you’ll sleep with me. Tied up, of course,” she said with a devilish smile.

The bondage was simple: arms on her back, elbow touching, and legs together. Her ankles were linked to the footboard and her collar to the headboard, thanks to all of Mistress’s hardware suitcase.

It had been three days. They had received no more news from Mistress or about her keys. It was late afternoon and Karen had to travel back to her home place. She would get back to work the day after.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” she said, looking at Karen, holding a pair of scissors, ready to cut open the suit.

Yes was the answer.

“Okay, here we go,” said Lynda, trying to pinch the layer of latex to bring it away from Karen’s skin. “Damn, that is tight, isn’t it?… How about now? Do I have only the suit? Damn, it doesn’t stretch at all. Let’s try it on the shoulder, shall we? Damn, the collar, like… fused with the suit. I can’t find the neck opening.”

They tried but Karen pushed her hand away, nodding no.

“What’s wrong this time?”

Karen grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and wrote:

“I don’t know what’s going on. It feels like the latex has glued to my skin. Everywhere you pull, the skin pulls up with it. Maybe it’s normal but, you know… if I could keep my skin, that would be appreciated.”

“I don’t get it, Karen. Let’s try again.”

Everywhere they tried the same results.

At that same moment, Lynda’s phone rang.

“Hello… Speaking… Yes… The… what? Well… Yes…” she said, from the tip of her lips, “She was actually spending a few days here… Let me see… Yes, there’s a bottle of whitish stuff, looks like cloudy oil or something… No, no labels, why?… Oh… OH!” she said, looking at Karen, “I… Yes… I will… Thank you.”

She hung up and looked at Karen with her face as white as if she had seen a ghost.

“Well, they went up Mistress’s slave ring thing and they found at least one slave in Europe, sealed in rubber… a little… okay, a lot like what you are now, and… do you know if she used that bottle of liquid on the suit? On your skin?”

Karen nodded yes, and yes.

“Well, here comes the bad news: That’s an adhesive. If the skin is exposed to it for more than 48 hours, the bond becomes permanent…”

She let the news dawn on Karen. Having taken the suit the day before, like she first intended to, she would be free but now… she was stuck. She began to make signs and stuff.

“They say that they’re looking for a solution to take that slave off the suit but they have a problem: She doesn’t want to.”

Karen stared at her.

“Is it a bad time to say… Merry Christmas?”

RCMP* Europol

*RCMP: Royal Canadian Mounted Police. They have a division that is the equivalent to the FBI.

It had been a strange Christmas. In the bathroom, she was looking at herself in the mirror as she was plugging the relief tube into her bladder catheter, the enema having been previously performed. She wondered how a simple fantasy, something she dreamed of from looking at pictures, led her to this.

She was looking at herself. Yeah, right. A shiny black creature where no skin could be seen, not even her eyes, hidden behind dark lenses. Her head was held erect by a very tall steel collar, her waist crushed by a very tight corset, she was standing on her toes in extreme footwear, her privates were locked behind a steel belt, and very well filled by pleasure plugs.

Yeah, a damn good fantasy that she couldn’t get out of. For now.

She had mixed feelings about the outcome. She actually loved it in there, but she had to work. No restaurant, nor anybody else for that matter, would hire someone in her condition. What would she do? What could she do?

It’s been only eight days since she was encased in rubber. If only it had been out of her free will. Well, it was. In part. The encasement part. Not the permanent part.

She was walking back to the kitchen, hobbling her way. Well, she was stuck in rubber, so why not enjoy it, right? She had added a hobble chain and after taking care of herself, added a chain between her wrist cuffs.

As I said, she liked her situation. For now.

The late afternoon sun was shining through the large living room window, filling the flat down to the dining room. There was a knock on the door. Lynda glanced at Karen who was usually running to hide but not this time. She didn’t give a fuck anymore. If the pizza delivery guy saw her, well, he would get a boner on top of his tip. Nothing wrong with that.

Lynda looked through the peeping hole.

“Looks like Jehova’s witnesses or something. That might be fun,” she said, glancing at Karen who took place to be very visible.

Lynda opened it. On the other side, two people, a couple, that were smiling but their expressions quickly changed to shock when they saw the latex-clad woman, their mouths agape. If she hadn’t been mute, Karen would have laughed her heart out. The jumping up and down of her shoulders gave the clue, however.

“Oh scheiße!” said the woman.

“Euh… Hello. My name is Derek, I’m from the RCMP, and this is Sandra from Europol,” he said while taking out their I.D. cards and showing them clearly. “Can we talk to… Miss Lynda?”

“Uh? RCMP? Oh… Yes, that… would be me. I’m Lynda. Please… come in,” she stuttered, not expecting that. “What can I do for you, officers?” asked Lynda, as Karen was slowly walking away.

“Who is that?” asked Derek. “Stay here, please. You might be of interest.” he quickly added as Karen was seemingly walking away.

Karen slowly turned around, hobbling on her short chain, her wrist chain knocking against her chastity belt. She walked back with the sound of clicking steel, clicking heels, and squeaking rubber.

Lynda invited them to sit down at the dining table. Karen approached the table, puzzled. What the RCMP wanted of her. And Europol?

“Are you here about Mistress Valerie?” asked Lynda.

“Yes, we are. And I would guess that she was involved with the sex slave ring. Do you know her?” asked Sandra, pointing to Karen.

Lynda recalled the string of events leading to Karen’s situation, making sure they knew she was not directly involved. None of them were.

“So, you had no idea about her activities?” asked Derek.

“No. I mean, income, expenses, it was all pretty much straightforward. I knew she was self-employed, so invoices and stuff, and all the expenses had, you know… usual purposes, like office equipment, travels, tables, chairs, stuff like that.”

“Can you provide us with the details of those transactions?” asked Sandra.

“Well, I can but it’s a breach of privacy. You would need a warrant for it.”

“We’ll get one. All this shed new light on this on-going investigation. Now, the original purpose of our visit.” said Derek, turning to Sandra.

“Ya… So, you’re aware on the first degree of what that lubricant-glue could do. Now why are we here? As you now know, Valerie, or Mistress Valerie, was in fact involved in a sex slave ring, mainly a latex slave ring. They would abduct people mostly here, in America to sell to Europe and in Europe to sell to America to keep them far from home. Now… We intercepted communications to the fact that two… latex slaves would be ready to be shipped and delivered to Europe in the coming week. One was described as a brunette, the other as a blonde.”

Lynda looked at Karen and then at Sandra.

“Well, Karen is a brunette and I am a blonde. Do you think…?”

“In that case, it is quite possible that, yes, she was one of them and that you might be her next victim.”

“Uh, wow. T… Thank you.

“And you are… okay in… this?” asked Derek, looking at Karen.

Karen nodded yes, but she was eager to get out. She had to get back to work. She had called sick but they would need some medical proof soon. Lynda explained Karen’s worries.

“We can arrange that, no worries,” said Derek.

Sandra, from Europol, was staring at Karen, focusing on the many points of the outfit, like analyzing everything.

But to Karen, it took her a few moments to understand what he had just said. Her? A slave being sold? She turned to Lynda.

“I… I had no clue, Karen. I sort of know she was in the… adult industry”, said Lynda, making quotation marks with her fingers, “but I would never… We’re best friends! I… I just wanted to help you live your fantasy, that’s all.”

“Hum… We have to ask for your help but if this is a bad time we can come back at a later date but we don’t have a lot of time,” said Derek.

Karen looked at him and gestured for him to go on. If she could help someone from being abducted, she would do it. For a moment, she saw herself as a secret agent… A latex-clad secret agent!

“What we can do is… send you out as it was intended to. However, since the other sold slave isn’t all prepped up, we would include locating equipment, like GPS trackers and stuff, so we would follow you to your destination,” said Derek.

“We would be ready to intercept you and free you at the right moment,” continued Sandra. Minimum risks for you. You can have time to think about it but you have to be shipped out in three days.”

Karen didn’t move, letting that offer sink.

“Uh… Okay… No wait!” said Lynda. “Are you suggesting that I do it?”

“Well, you were supposed to be the next victim and…” said Derek.

“No way!” interjected Lynda. “No fucking way. Are you nuts? No. Not me. How about you?” she asked Karen.

Karen wobbled her head in a “that could be interesting” way.

“You would do that?” she asked.

Karen took the dry-erase board and pen on the table they used to communicate.

“I have nothing to lose and all to gain. They might have the stuff to get me out of the suit.”

“Uh… I haven’t thought about it that way,” said Lynda.

Derek and Sandra turned to Lynda.

“Don’t look at me. No. I have… no. Sorry, Karen, but I’m not into that latex thing. I don’t even own a pair of high heels.”

“I understand,” said Sandra, still mostly staring at Karen. “We’ll see if we have someone else for it. We’ll keep you posted.”

With that, they parted, leaving Karen and Lynda alone.

“Seriously?” asked Lynda.

Karen nodded while taking the pad. “I would feel more useful than just staying hidden here and I would visit Europe!” she wrote, giggling.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. What if they, I don’t know, lose you?”

Karen shuddered.

“Then I would become a latex slave.” she wrote, thinking: isn’t it what her fantasy was? Was she living her ultimate fantasy? For real? No bills, no worries, just… live in latex?

“You are weird… But you already know that,” said Lynda.

The agents told them that they would do everything they could to resolve the matter and left.

“So… you would welcome becoming a latex slave, I mean… for life?” asked Lynda.

Karen shuddered.

“I don’t know,” she wrote. “It’s sort of my fantasy and, well… I sort of like it. I have no worries, no pressure, I get up and my hair is already all done, and I don’t have to choose the outfit of the day.”

Lynda read the message and just stared at Karen. Damn, she would like to see some sort of expression out of that latex-coated face! Was she joking or was she serious?

“Yeah, you ARE weird. So… you like it, right? Okay, let’s do this.” she said, heading for the suitcase of accessories.

Soon after, Karen found herself with a 50cm spreading bar between her ankles, another spreader bar across her knees, a spreader bar, the width of her body, between her elbows in her back, and another equal spreader bar between her wrists, in front of her. That was really limiting her range of motion. She loved it.

Lynda added the gasmask hood then headed to the pantry, took out a box of cereal and emptied the contents everywhere in the kitchen, from the counter to the floor.

“Oops. Looks like I accidentally made a mess. Well, you’re the slave, clean this.” she said with a totally flat tone, imitating Mistress.

Karen stared at her for a few moments. How the heck does she expect her to clean this? She could barely move. A zap burst told her to get on it.

She hobbled her way to the closet to get the broom and the dustpan. She used the broom to gather the cereals from the counter by twisting her upper body but, as it was rigidified by the corset, her hips did most of the work, although, thanks to her small waist, she had some twisting room of her arm spreader bars around it.

All that twisting of her hips made the toys move quite a lot, keeping her aroused. Very well aroused. That challenge was sexually stimulating. What seemed unfair at first, turned out to be quite pleasurable. She managed to get most of the cereals from the counter to the dustpan, then she had to hobble with her legs spread out to the garbage bin to empty it.

A task easier said than done. Her dustpan was full and, in the end, she spilled almost half of it on the floor to reach the garbage bin. Next was the cereal on the floor. She was able to move the broom with one hand and gather most of the cereals in one spot but, again, this exercise really turned her on, on the verge of an orgasm.

Oh yes, she was this close to it. Just a few more twists, a few more bending. She was slowing down.

Lynda apparently realized what was happening and, just at the right, or was it wrong, moment, she sent a small zap, zeroing Karen’s arousal in half a second!

She dropped everything: broom, dustpan, and everything that was in it and turned to face Lynda, trying to put her fists on her hips in a “pissed off” manner, but thanks to the spreader bar, it looked more like a comical way of someone trying to look tough but failing miserably.

Lynda couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing!

“HA! HA! HA! You should see you, all… like this,” she said, mimicking Karen’s hands unable to find their holding hips, “and… Oh, that’s just too much!” she said, laughing to tears, grabbing a hold of the nearby chair.

Karen was still pissed off. She hobbled her way to reach the writing pad, making a chair fall backward in the process. She could only write with one hand, without being able to hold the board steady.

Lynda recomposed herself and approached to read.

“Not fair. Not clean this mess. You do.” had written Karen. She was throwing daggers with her eyes.

“Oh… No way, missy,” said Lynda, still giggling, wiping her tears of joy from her face, “your mess, your job.”

Karen nodded “no” and tried to show that if she even tried to kneel on the floor, thanks to the spreader bars, she would snap her knee, without counting that with her arms held like that, she couldn’t pick up anything from the floor. Oh, yes, she could, by laying down, but when down, she wouldn’t get back up. Anyway, she would have her knees snapped out of alignment anyway.

“Yes. I see the problem, Karen. Well, I… Just wait here.” she said, heading for her office.

Yeah, “Wait here”, as if she could go somewhere else. She waited and Lynda came back a few moments later, holding her laptop.

“Okay, I found this website about proper dominant behavior and it says that if a slave is unable to perform a task because said slave put itself into a mess, the slave should get punished to compensate the Master for having to change the setup, the event duration, or its configuration. So… if I read this right, I should punish you. But how.” she said, gently rubbing her chin. “Oh… wait,” she said, reaching for her phone, and opening the app.

Karen had mixed feelings. She was angry and aroused at the same time. Aroused at being… punished? Oh well, probably more of the bondage and the struggle that will come with it… Oh, wait. What the fuck was going on here? She was looking forward to being punished? The more she was thinking about being punished, the hotter she became.

Was there some kind of drug in this suit or something? She would never have thought like that before. Then again, she was getting aroused at images of women tightly bound and restricted and… tortured on benches, racks, cages, etc.

Lynda had been browsing the app, looking perplexed, then her eyes lit up.

“Oh! Really? Let’s try that!” she said, dragging Karen to the living room.

“Something simple yet very effective,” she said, smiling.

She placed Karen under the ceiling ring and removed all the spreader bars. She put the head leather harness over her head and linked its top ring to the ceiling ring, keeping it slightly snug. She linked the same rope to her collar, pulling it up slightly. She added another ring, on the floor, at her feet. Using rope, she tied her legs tightly together at the ankles, below the knees, over the knees, and even one around her upper thighs. She linked the ankle rope to the floor ring.

She tightly tied her arms on her back, elbow touching, and brought the rope all around her body, around her waist, and breasts, pinning her arms tightly against her body.

Finally, she added a rope to the center D-ring under the crotch of the chastity belt and asked Karen to get as low as she could, hanging from her head harness. She then snuggly knotted the other end of the rope to the floor ring.

Karen was struggling to keep upright, standing on two narrow pointed boots. Every little movement was pulling on her head harness or pulling on the crotch band of the chastity belt. She became horny.

If she wanted to relieve her neck, she would stand up, which pulled on her crotch band, getting the toys slightly out. To relieve her legs, she would relax her legs, pulling on her neck, but letting the toys creep back in.

She could actually screw herself like that. If that was the punishment, she would gladly take it.

Lynda took her phone and opened the app.

“Okay, stretch up at maximum.”

Karen did, pulling hard on her belt, feeling the toys slide out. She put as much force into it as she could.

“Hum… okay, fine,” she said, perplexed, as she punched something on her phone. “Now, relax at maximum.”

Karen complied, letting herself down, hanging from her head harness until she was struggling to breathe."

“Wow… hum… Okay. Relax mid-point… Okay… Let’s try this… Oh, I have to set a timer…” she said, then her face changed with a devilish grin. “Let’s make it non-cancellable for… half an hour? Yeah, that should do it,” she said, as she made a very theatrical gesture of pressing the last button.

She looked at Karen, her face smiling.

“Have, ahem… fun.” she said, happily walking to the sofa and lying down, taking her e-reader, giggling."

Karen waited in the relaxed position, looking at Lynda. She waited so it wouldn’t show that she had found the trick, that she would screw herself up, that she would actually have fun while Lynda thought she was getting punished.

However, the extreme position, her center of gravity being very narrow, and standing on pointed boots, made her wiggle from side to side, front and back. The solution was, probably, to stand up very straight, pulling on the belt. She did.

The toys came alive! Oh, darn. That was unexpected but also wonderful! The more she pushed with her feet, the more the belt was being pulled down, the more intense the vibrations were! Maybe it was an error on Lynda’s part but this was fun.

However, the belt being linked to the floor meant that to pull on it, she had to work her legs, adding more ‘weight’ to her ballet toed feet, increasing the strain. But the pleasure was also increasing.

After a while, the pleasure grew, putting her into a very arousal state. Her knees flexed, the pull on the belt weakened. She felt the harness pull on her head and… zap, zap!

Oh, shoot! She was getting zapped now? That made her legs flex even more. The rope linked from the harness to the collar was now pulling the collar up, strangling her. Not to the point of cutting her airflow but enough to be uncomfortable.

She had to get her legs up straight. She did it, which pulled the belt away, which switched the zapping to vibrating, arousing her, making her legs weak, making her bend.

Fucking shit! She was screwing herself, she was vibrating herself, she was hanging herself and she was zapping herself! She would get aroused, cooled off, aroused again, cooled off.

Punishment, she said? Yes, this was. It was exhausting, it was straining, it was arousing and frustrating at the same time. Punishment. Absolutely.

That half an hour started to feel like days!

Finally, after what seemed like years for Karen, everything stopped and Lynda’s phone played a tune. Karen was exhausted and was using the head harness and the collar to hang herself, to relax her legs. The ropes were so tight that her legs were staring to get numb.

“Better let your legs rest for a little while,” said Lynda, unhooking Karen from the floor and ceiling and helping her gently get down on the floor, still tightly bound, tho.

She was expecting to get free any time soon but apparently, Lynda had other ideas.

“I bet your legs need some rest, right? Well, let’s work on that.

With Karen on her stomach, she linked her wrists to the upper knee rope. She then brought her legs back, bending them at the knees, and linked a rope between the ankles and the elbow tie. She added another rope from the ankles to the top ring of the head harness and pulled hard on it, forcing her head up, the back of her neck locking against the wide collar. Finally, another rope between her ankles and the chastity belt.

Lynda took a few steps back to look at her work. She seemed satisfied.

“Looks good. How does it feel?”

Karen tried to moan to convey her frustration, but, thanks to all the tubes, no sound came out. She tried her best to move to do anything, but only her muscles straining could be seen, moving the shiny skin coating. She was rigid and totally unable to move. Well, okay, she could move: her fingers.

She didn’t liked it. She wanted out. But wait… isn’t that what a punishment is for? Did she really deserved it? Did she deserved such a hard treatment? And where the fuck did Lynda got those ideas?

Her brain was lost in her thoughts, in her fantasies. Didn’t she dreamed to be like that? Didn’t she wanted to try something like that, looking at images from the Web? Was she sick or was she really liking it? Well, she was working her butt and crotch muscles, slightly arousing herself, actually loving the feeling of the restriction. Every pull of every muscles reminded her that she was restrained, tied up, unable to move, and that she couldn’t escape any of it without exterior help.

She had played a little with self-bondage, you know, police cuffs or ropes that she could easily get off. She always had a means of escape. She could always get free, albeit with a little effort but, nothing that severe and nothing where it was totally out of her control.

Oh damn! She was so hot! Hot at the feeling, hot at the thought of being permanently encased in rubber, corset, heels, masks, chastity belt. Hot at being a … rubber slave!

As if on cue, as if it knew what her brain was going through, the toys fired. A few very short blasts, making her jump. She then heard Lynda’s laugh.

“Ha, ha, ha! You should see you squirm, or rather try to squirm. I don’t know if you know but, pretty much nothing moves from here,” she said, laughing. “Oh…want to have that again?”

Three more powerful bursts of vibration or humping, or whatever it was, it was wonderful. Karen was trying to bang her crotch on the floor to keep the pleasure coming.

How could she find pleasure when in such an extreme setup?

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Oh shit. Lynda was playing with her as if she was reading her mind. Just at the right time to be aroused, or just at the right time to be frustrating.

Buzz! Buzz!… … … Buzz! … … BUZZZZZZZZZZZ! … …

Suddenly, Karen’s brain exploded. The world around her disappeared. She was into some sort of white fog, a fog of pleasure, of joy, of… she couldn’t describe it. it was wonderful. she never felt a pleasure like that before. She could feel the pleasure hormone fill her body, from her toenails to her fingernails, filling her brain, her heart, her stomach, everything was pleasurable. Every move, every pull on her restraints was adding pleasure, and tightly tied as she was, every move was just that: pleasure. Pure pleasure.

Her mind was filled with colorful patterns, and she was seeing images in them, images of a woman in shiny black latex, severly bound, doing all sorts of things and enjoying every one of them. It was her. She was her.

The orgasm continued for a long time before slowly subsiding by itself, like running out of fuel. She was running out of energy, but her brain was in her happy place, and it wanted to stay there. Everything faded to black.

She had no idea where she was. She blinked a few times. There was something in her mouth… oh yeah. She remembered, now. She tried to get up but her neck was held back. She blinked a few more times. She could see bars. Wait. She was in the cage? But why? The last thing she remembered was passing out from the over-stimulation after being punished for a mess she didn’t make.

So, yes, her collar was linked to a ring on the bottom of the cage. Same thing for her ankles, and her wrists were joined, linked to the front of her belt. It was dark. Only the lights from the city were filtering through the curtains of the window.

Oh well, she had nothing else to do. She was a rubber slave, and she had to wait for her Master’s orders. Oh shoot! Was she really? And was she really aroused at the thought as she rocked her hips to make the toys move?

Was this whole thing some sort of brainwashing, a latex Stockholm syndrome?

The more she moved, the quickly she was reaching the limits of her restraints, and the more aroused she became. And the more aroused she was, the more she moved within her restraints.

Her eyes were closed. She was imagining a life of bondage, latex and sex. Mostly sex. She would do anything for sexual pleasure, and if being enclosed in latex and tied up increased it, then so be it. She would take it. She would take everything.

“What the hell is going on?” she heard as the light of the room was turned on.

She stopped moving and looked up as much as she could. There stood Lynda, in her pajamas, hair all messed up, her face needing a good shot of a clothing iron.

“Are you in trouble? Anything wrong?” she asked.

Karen nodded no and gave two thumbs up.

“But why… oh wait. You were enjoying yourself?”

Karen didn’t move. If she nodded no, she would have to explain what she was doing. If she nodded yes, it might piss her off.

“What?… Why?… Fuck, Karen. I tie you up in the living room being zapped, and you like it. I tie you up in the tightest hogtie I can think of, and you orgasm so hard that you pass out. You are tied up in the cage and you find a way to stimulate yourself. Damn it, Karen… Is there any way you can be… punished?”

Karen stood still for a moment, then her shoulders began to shake. She was obviously giggling… as she nodded: NO.

The Volunteer

Well, Lynda had found a way to punish her. Legs spread wide, the center link of the spreader bar link to the ring on the floor, arms tied in her back with elbow touching, wrists raised up, tied to the ceiling ring, forcing her to bend down, and her collar linked to the same floor ring, it was the toughest strappado tie she had to endure. So far.

A flap had been put over the lenses of her gas mask, rendering her blind. All she could do was suffer in the darkness. She couldn’t express her dissatisfaction by grunting!

The strain on her shoulders was taking its toll. Her feet were aching from the extreme position. She tried to move, to change the position of a foot or of anything but couldn’t do much. It was tough but she did not totally dislike the challenge, and her brain was still trying to cope with the thought!

She felt something on her shoulder, like some sort of warm pad. Then some light pressure. Someone was touching her. It felt strange. She could feel the heat of the hand, the pressure of the hand but, not the hand. The hand slowly slid down the side of her body, down to her protruding butt where it swirled around for some time, spreading, wrapping her butt, then disappeared, only to come back with a bang.

Slap!

She jolted. That was unexpected.

Slap! Slap.

Then nothing. Oh, too bad, she liked it. that spanking actually woke up her pleasure.

SLAP!

Ouch! That was more than a hand. It was a plank or something, hitting both of her cheeks at the same time.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

Oh damn! If only Lynda knew! Each slap was jolting her toys, arousing her. She was simply hanging all her weight on her wrists, even lifting one leg with each slap. She liked it. Inside her mind, she giggled. There was really no way to punish her.

The doorbell rang, cutting short the spanking session.

“What the hell now?” said Lynda, going to the door. “Oh, it’s that woman from Europol,” she said, opening the door.

“Hi… hum… Sandy? Sandra, right?”

“Ja, Sandra,” answered the blond woman. “We have some dev… oh scheiße.” she said when she saw Karen, tied up in the living room. “Is.. is she alright? Why is she like that?” she asked, heading straight for her. “Oh… Hum…” she said, approaching her hand, wanting to touch Karen’s latex skin but afraid it would burn her hand. “That looks… tighter and thicker than it did the first time…”

“It’s the same suit,” said Lynda. “We were… playing,” she added, removing the blindfold and the rope linking Karen’s wrists to the ceiling and to her collar, allowing her to stand up, quite unsteady on her very wide-spread legs. “What can we do for you?” she asked as she unlinked Karen’s ankles from the floor, while still keeping her arms tied in her back.

Sandra approached and couldn’t resist to touch Karen’s arm.

“Oh verdammt ist das geil ich Frage mich wie es sich anfühlt…” she mumbled shile sliding her fingers along it “Uh… Is it… comfortable?” she asked, looking at the dark lenses of the gas mask.

Karen nodded yes. It was comfortable, although she was constantly feeling its tightness. Which was good.

“So… You were saying?” asked again Lynda, removing all the restraints from Karen’s legs and leading them to the living room, Karen sitting down first. Her legs needed the break. She jolted as she let herself down on the wooden chair when she hit the chastity belt, pushing her toys.

“Ah, yes. We have found someone willing to take your place,” said Sandra, looking at Lynda.

“Oh, really? An agent or you found another slave in Mistress’s list or something?”

“Uh… an agent. Me, actually.”

“You? Are you sure? You do not seem the type to become a… latex slave.” said Lynda, looking at the professionally dressed woman with lose polyester pants and flat shoes.

“They are looking for a blond woman, which I am. Also, since I am a trained agent, I am suited to react to whatever situation, and as for becoming a latex slave, as you say, this is not the goal. It’s like wearing a costume to infiltrate some gang. I mean, if I have to infiltrate a group of hookers, I will wear skimpy clothes. It’s just that. A… costume.” said Sandra, looking at Karen but her eyes were conveying someone else. Anticipation.

“Uh, okay. Whatever,” said Lynda. “Do you have a… you know… suit?”

“We found a stash of latex outfits in Mistress’s… uh… dungeon, along with all the, uh… packing material for… uh… shipping,” she said, not very comfortable with the words. “However, we need someone who how it was put on to help me get into it,” said Sandra, looking at both Lynda and Karen.

Karen nodded yes, but Lynda just wiggled her head.

“I… I haven’t witnessed how it was put on.”

“Oh, but… anyway. You might be of some help. Also, since the slave ring has your name, it would be best if you came with us. We will enroll you in the Witness Relocation Program, give you a new identity, a new job, etc. We fear for your safety, especially if you help us take that ring down. People will want to come after you.”

“Oh… uh… A new identity? A new… home? I… I don’t know I… I have all my friends and…”

“It’s for your safety, Lynda. You can always opt-out, but I strongly suggest you go along with it.”

“Hum… well… I’ll see… When is that scheduled?”

“Today, actually. RCMP agents are waiting downstairs to carry you to the headquarters where the setup will take place. Do you have… something to hide her in some way? We wouldn’t want to attract too much attention while walking out.”

“Hum… Yes… I think I can come up with something.” said Lynda, heading for her bedroom. She came back later with sweatpants and a hoodie.

She helped Karen put on the sweatpants. Of course, her long legs, thanks to the ballet heels, were protruding out in an odd way, but they couldn’t do much about it. She then put the hoodie over Karen’s head, over her bound arms, and tucked the loose sleeves into the pockets.

“Why don’t you untie her? There’s no need,” asked Sandra

“Oh, she’s a slave and a slave needs to be restrained at all times… Right, Karen?”

Karen nodded.

“So… you don’t mind?” asked Sandra.

Karen nodded no.

“Uh… Okay. I think that should do it.”

There was another knock at the door. Lynda opened it. It was Derek with another agent. He stared at Karen for a moment then turned to the other agent by his side.

“Agent Smith here will stay in your apartment while everything is settled, just in case someone from the slave ring comes. Are you all ready?”

“Yes,” said Lynda as Karen nodded the same.

Derek tried to grab Karen’s arm to guide her and ended up with a loose sleeve.

“What the heck?… are her arms tied?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Lynda, going on her way, followed by Karen, obviously at ease with it.

They walked outside, crossing paths with only one other tenant of the building, who looked at them with wide eyes. On the street, two large black SUVs were waiting. Derek opened the door to one and invited Lynda and Karen to get in. Lynda helped Karen first, buckling her safety belt tightly then hopped on the other side. Sandra and Derek took the front seats, Derek driving.

A little over half an hour later, they entered the underground parking lot of the RCMP headquarters and they were led to an elevator to the second floor, followed by a series of corridors, ending in a room looking like a medical examination room. Karen’s sweatpants and hoodie were taken off, revealing to the persons present, a nurse and a doctor, Karen’s setup. The nurse approached, smiling.

“Oh wow. I saw pictures but… and you feel alright in this?” she asked, to which Karen nodded yes. It felt great. She liked it, which was weird because she was also eager to get out. Or was she? Really? “Are you… all… really plugged with those devices?” she asked, showing the array of tubes and large intruders on a table, ready to be installed.

Karen approached, arms still locked on her back, and bent forward a little to have a closer look. She recognized the bags, all labeled A, B, C, etc. She had a closer look at the toys. She knew what they were and she knew she had them on, she was just curious to know if Sandra was about to get… better ones. But they were the same. She nodded., confirming that the numbers on the bags corresponded to the order each item was to be put on.

Lynda approached another table with some latex items and two large bottles.

“What are those?” she asked.

Oh… Those are the lubricants we found.” said the doctor. “One would be the standard no-harm-done one, the other would be the one that makes the suit permanent, according to analysis.” said the doctor. “But both of these shouldn’t be there, that could cause an… incident. Please, put the one labeled permanent inside the cabinet to your right.”

“Of course,” said Lynda, picking up both bottles to read the labels, then putting the Permanent inside the glass door cabinet over her head.

“Okay then. We can proceed when you’re ready, Sandra,” said the doctor. “You can wait outside for this procedure as it is quite… intimate,” he added to Karen and Lynda.

Lynda nodded her head sideway at Karen, telling her “Let’s go”, and they both exited the room, waiting in the next small room where they both sat. Karen turned her back to her asking to get released.

“Why?” asked Lynda. “It’s not like you need to use them.”

Karen stared at her for a moment. She had nothing to reply. Lynda was right. She had no use for them.

Sandra was shivering, both from being naked and from the anticipation of what was going to happen. She had thoughts, fantasies, about latex. She saw some photoshoots take place, back in Berlin, of some InstaCrap influencers, wearing full catsuits, hoods and ballet boots. It triggered curiosity, but the chastity belt was what attracted her attention the most.

She imagined herself, locked into one of those, unable to access her privates, feeling the cold steel against her skin, the rigidity of it. Of course, this time, she wouldn’t feel them over her skin but when this stunt would be over, she might… get one for herself.

The nurse took the bag identified as A and opened it, revealing a pair of panties with tubes.

“This would be your… relief tube. Here, lay on the table, I’ll help you with it.” said the doctor, looking over the nurse’s shoulder.

Sandra took place on the examination table and the latex briefs were slid over her legs. She shivered. It was the first time in her whole life she was feeling latex over her skin. Well, she had worn latex or nitrile gloves for her work, but this was different. It was a strange feeling. The panties were brought to her crotch and the doctor gently inserted the tubes into her urethra.

That was not exactly a pleasant feeling. She gently squirmed as it was inserted.

“I guess you’ll get used to it,” said the doctor as the nurse finished the procedure, pulling the panties fully on.

“Just relax,” said the nurse, using her fingers to push the sheath through Sandra’s rectum.

Being fingered in the butthole. That was also a new one.

The “B” bag was opened, revealing a clear latex catsuit, without any zipper or anything.

“How?…” asked Sandra.

“Through the neck,” said the nurse, as if she knew. Even the doctor looked at her a little perplexed. “I’ve seen it before, and it’s the only way.”

That answer seemed to satisfy both the doctor and Sandra.

The nurse stretched the collar of the suit, allowing Sandra to put her feet in it. It was cold to the touch and she felt the cold creep up along her legs as the suit was put on, first the large upper body part, then the legs. As the tubes of the legs were pulled up, it felt tighter and tighter. However, since that suit was rather thin, it stretched easily and actually warmed up quite quickly.

But the feeling was strange. To her, it felt as if she was wearing a layer of water.

“Get ready to put your arm in.” said the nurse, pulling hard on the collar, now resting just below her breasts. Sandra proceeded, folding first her left arm, and searched for the sleeve. She pushed it down, feeling the long latex glove engulf her hands, finding the glove part and feeding her fingers through it. Then it was time for the other arm and as soon as her arms reached the glove part, the whole suit rose up over her shoulders, engulfing her in its thin yet tight embrace. A shiver ran up her spine as she gently rubbed her new rubber skin to smooth out the wrinkles.

Her hands reached her crotch, the suit pulling slightly on the panties and the tubes.

“Feeling okay”

“Uh… J… Ja. Okay.” she stuttered.

The next bag revealed a clear latex hood. It was easy to put on although tight. It felt strange. She wore a hood from a hoodie before, or even a baklava in cold weather but this was new. It was pulling her mouth shut and gave her an oily skin look. She worked her jaw a few times while the nurse put the large yoke under the collar of the suit, adding lubricant to help with the procedure.

She coated that clear suit with a coat of lubricant then picked the “C” bag, which was a girdle with the toys. Sandra’s breath began to shake. The nurse brought the girdle up to Sandra’s hips and stopped.

“I’ll let you insert them yourself if you don’t mind,” she said, with a wink, taking a step back.

Sandra stood on her feet and began to gently push the vaginal toy in. Slowly. Oh, she had played with toys before but this was perhaps a little large and long for what she was accustomed to. However the lubed latex pouch already there sort of helped it slide in rather easily, albeit with a lot of moaning while her face was blushing. She even resisted stroking it in and out a few times. That would have been fun but this wasn’t the place nor the time.

Then the rectal one. That feeling was new and pushing it in proved a little harder t han she thought it would be, but in the end, encouraged by the nurse who helped her with the last push, it was all done.

She made a few steps, legs wide as if she was about to poop while walking. Playing with toys on a bed was one thing. Having them on and walking around was another thing and a whole different feeling.

“Are you okay? Do they hurt?” asked the doctor.

“N… Nein… No. Feels okay. I think. Not sure. Fühlt sich komisch an… uh… Feels weird…” she mumbled. “I probably simply have to get used to it.”

“Obviously,” said the doctor, the nurse answering with a wink.

As the nurse took the next garment, Sandra made wide eyes.

“Oh!… I haven’t thought about that. I thought that…”

“Yeah, it’s apparently hidden under the outer catsuit,” said the nurse, wrapping the heavy garment around her waist. “There’s even a tool to tighten it. Okay, squeeze time,” she said, hooking the tightening device and starting it.

The corset began to tighten. Sandra was breathing in short gasps, nervous and anxious, her anxiety growing with each centimeter the corset was tightened. And it grew tighter. And tighter.

“I think you can stop now.”

“I… I can’t!” said the nurse, who had released the only power button and was frantically trying to stop the device. “It won’t stop. It’s as if it will stop only when the corset is fully closed.”

“But… I’ll be squeezed to death,” said Sandra, panicking, trying to reach the device herself. But it was firmly fixed to the corset. The doctor tried to help but he only managed to throw Sandra all over the place. “How… how much?” she asked

“About 2 centimeters… One centimeter…”

The tightening device finally stopped, and there was a burning smell.

“Oh, looks like it won’t go any further and it’s frying itself… Uh… no.” said the nurse, catching the suddenly falling device. “It… Oh damn. It fused the wires!”

“It what?” asked Sandra, trying to feel the back of the corset with her hands.

“It fused the wires. It is… seamless. I can barely see where the end met.”

“How will I get out?”

“We’ll simply cut it off, Sandra. No worries.” said the doctor.

“Oh… okay…” said Sandra.

She was rubbing her clear latex-coated hands over the tight, thick black garment, feeling her new waistline. It was small. Very small. Breathing was a new experience.

“It’s only for a few days,” she mumbled, trying to comfort herself.

The nurse applied another coat of lubricant and the outer layer, this time a red catsuit, was put on.

“Is it just me or this suit is a lot thicker and tighter than the clear one?” asked Sandra.

“Yes on both counts,” said the nurse, pulling hard on the suit to engulf Sandra’s legs in it.

She felt the pressure creep along her legs, and to her hips. It was weird that she didn’t feel it much over the corset, but as she slid her arms inside the tight sleeves, its thickness and tightness fully revealed themselves. As the suit slid in place, she flexed her arms, feeling the tight dual-coats of rubber stretch on her arms, pinch inside her elbow joint. Flexing her fingers was challenging.

As the nurse was removing the wrinkles, Sandra ran her fingers along the bright red suit, feeling its tightness, her new thin waist, and her very hot crotch. She couldn’t resist reaching it and pushing in the toys a little, squirming in the process.

“Oh verdammt ist das geil ich Frage mich wie es sich anfühlt” she mumbled to herself.

“Is there a problem?” asked the doctor.

“N… No. The suit is very tight and… pulling at the crotch.”

“Ah, I see. Well, according to the bags, the next item will prevent you from reaching there anymore,” he said, as he picked up the heavy steel chastity belt.

“Oh… ha, ha… I guess you’re right,” nervously said Sandra.

The doctor and the nurse gently put the belt in place.

“Well, there’s only one adjustment and it’s made to fit over that corset, that’s for sure,” said the nurse, bringing the waistband together and snapping them shut. “I don’t know how this will be taken off, tho. I don’t see any means of release. Well, a grinder wheel will do the trick,” she said with a wink.

She pulled the crotch strap up, making Sandra moan and softly bite her lower lip.

“Oh, that’s a tight fit. Hang on.” said the nurse, yanking the crotch band up, pushing hard on the dildos, almost lifting Sandra off the floor.

“Ouhhhoo…..” said Sandra, blushing as she heard the belt click.

Her hands reached for the crotch but were denied. She tried to insert a finger under the belt but couldn’t. That thing was tight and was doing its job to perfection.

“That’s… devilish,” she said.

“That’s the point.” said the nurse.

“Well, if you have anything more to say, I guess this is the time. You’ll be mute after that next item.” said the doctor, holding a latex hood with dark lenses and a flap with a long tube going inside the mouth and more tubes up the nose.

“So I really have to? I mean… Is there a way to avoid this?”

“No, not if we want to keep it real.” said the nurse.

“Open wide,” said the doctor. “This spray will numb your throat making the procedure more bearable,” he said, spraying the sour-tasting stuff inside her mouth.

After waiting a minute, he proceeded with the nose tubes. This was not something she liked, and she feared the feeding tube.

“Swallow, again, again… yes, that’s it, continue. It’s going fine…” said the doctor as the flap got closer and closer to her face until it was flat against it.

Her eyes were wide. The more she was getting engulfed in this predicament, the more she regretted her choices. That was not what she had expected. She had figured she would wear that simple catsuit and it would be it. Now those layers of latex, corset, tubes, etc.

The nurse inserted a syringe on the side of the mouth and Sandra felt the bag grow inside her mouth.

“Tell me when it will be enough,” she said.

Sandra immediately said to stop.

“Oh, no. That’s way too early, I barely squeezed in anything. It has to look real. You will be surely inspected on arrival. Hang on.” she said as she pushed more and more of whatever that was inside the blow-up gag, making it grow larger and larger.

Sandra tried to walk away but the nurse grabbed her back.

“Hey, hold on, it’s not over,” she said, feeling how filled Sandra’s cheeks were. “I think a little bit more… There, perfect,” she said as her cheeks were slightly bulging.

That was a lot to cope with. Before she could react, the nurse had pulled down the latex hood over her head, putting her in half-darkness and squishing her mouth even more, making the gag appear even bigger, filling her mouth completely.

However, she could breathe easily from her nose, albeit in short gasps, thanks to the corset.

Damn, this was so overwhelming!

They asked her to sit as they put on the ballet boots on her feet. She barely noticed the procedure, her brain coping with the tight latex catsuit, the corset, the toys, the chastity belt and the tight hood and all the tubes.

“There. Easy. Let me help you.” said the nurse, helping Sandra get down on her feet.

Her knees collapsed and the nurse grabbed her, helping her get steady. Then one step, then another one. She was getting the hang of it. She thought.

She had a look in the large mirror on the wall. A completely red latex… doll, with dark eyes and pointed boots. And she looked very tall. And she looked very thin.

She couldn’t believe it was her, in this shiny red latex suit, waist crushed by an incredibly tight corset, standing on ballet boots, a steel belt closing her crotch. She had had fantasies. She had thought about it. She had read and watched videos about it. She never expected to live it.

She never expected to… like it… that much.

She was slowly walking back and forth, getting accustomed to her new skin. Yes, it was only temporary but… she wished to experience it for a long time. No. What the heck was that thought?

She was called back to reality as Karen and Lynda entered the room while the doctor was making a phone call.

“Oh, wow” You look wonderful, Sandra," exclaimed Lynda.

Karen looked at her and made two thumbs up.

Then Derek, called by the doctor, came in and startled. Stunned by the sight.

“S… Sandra? Is that really you?” he asked.

Sandra nodded and gave a thumbs up.

“Oh darn. I still say it’s stupid but it’s your choice. Are you ready to go on? You have about six hours to set your mind. We have to, well… pack you up for this evening, if we want to keep the schedule of the slave ring.”

Karen and Sandra looked at each other and then at Derek. Two thumbs up.

Expedited Parcel

It was mind-boggling. All of it. The latex, the tight catsuit, the rigid corset, the pointed heels, the toys! Damn. Every move she made was a new experience. She twitched when Karen touched her shoulder, making a sign asking if she was alright.

Sandra answered with a half-thumb up. She wasn’t sure. She looked around the room, with her new dim vision, as if she was wearing shades indoors. They were alone in that waiting room. Karen took her handy-dandy writing whiteboard.

“Any prior experience with that?” she wrote.

“No”, nodded Sandra.

“But you had fantasies, right?” she wrote. “You didn’t only do it… for your country. Come on!”

Fantasies? About being encased in rubber and plugged? Well, she did have that strange feeling, at the Police Academy, when she was put in handcuffs for some exercise. It gave her a strange feeling. She couldn’t tell what it was. The cold steel of the handcuffs, or the fact of being restrained out of her control?

And that equally strange feeling when she saw how to use the prisoner’s restraining chair like she… wanted to be the test subject. Not the criminal but, just being tied up in that chair. She didn’t know what to think.

Karen was staring at her.

“That’s okay. It’s personal,” she wrote. “But you’re either gonna love it or hate it.”

She put the pad down then took it right up."

“To be honest. I love it.” she wrote, made Sandra read it then quickly erased it.

Sandra looked down at her hands, coated with this thick red shiny material. She was closing and opening her fist, admiring the shiny reflections on her hand, on her arm, on her breasts, seeing her suddenly long legs ending without apparent toes, pointing down. She was amazed that she was able to even stand on those silly boots.

“Move, exercise,” wrote Karen on her pad. “It’s the best way to get accustomed to all of the items of the suit.”

Karen walked from the door to the far end of the room. It was just five meters long but it would do. Once she reached the wall, she signaled Sandra to come along. She followed, making small steps on her ballet boots, feeling the boots, the extreme position of her feet, the tightness of the latex suit on her legs, and especially the toys that were slightly moving.

She had played with sex toys before and even had fun with Ben-Wa balls with a previous partner. But this felt different. Perhaps the fact that they were locked inside her, that the only release key, as far as she knew. was on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

They walked back and forth a few times, Sandra getting more confident with each stroll.

“I guess they would expect us to have been ’trained’. Better become good.” wrote Karen. Sandra took the pad.

“Not just that. If I have to intervene, I have to be able to.” wrote Sandra back, her police officer mind kicking back into action.

Yes, she had to take action, even if, impaired as she was, it was just running away. So that’s what she tried. To run. She did one length. Then a second one but she didn’t reach the wall. She stumbled forward and fell on the floor. Karen rushed to her.

Sandra turned on her back, both hands at her crotch, fighting the chastity belt. Karen looked at her, took a long swing, and gave the belt a hard slap.

Sandra threw her head backward as Karen continued to slap hard on the belt until Sandra managed to turn around.

Karen fetched the board.

“Having fun?” she wrote.

Sandra rolled to her side, hastily took the pen and wrote in large letters.

“NO!”

“Liar.” wrote Karen, giving the belt another slap, making Sandra react.

“Stop that. I’m Org…” She erased the last word as if writing it was wrong.

“You’re a latex sex slave, Sandra. It’s okay to orgasm.” wrote Karen.

Sandra took a moment to find her composure back and leaned on her side, taking the pad.

“That’s not right. Not in this situation.”

“That means one thing: you’re kinky.”

Karen could see the stunned expression in Sandra’s eyes, even through her and Sandra’s dark lenses. It was obvious.

“You can lie to me but you have to be honest with yourself.” wrote Karen, offering her a hand to help her get back up.

Sandra stood up, unsteady, still having a hand at her crotch, obviously trying to reach under it.

“That thing is devilish,” she wrote.

“That’s the point of a chastity belt,” answered Karen.

There was a knock on the door and it opened slightly. A head poke through.

“How are you girls coping?” asked Derek. “Everything okay, Sandra?”

Sandra looked at Karen and then at Derek before giving a thumbs up. Yes, everything was fine.

Sometime later, helped by Lynda, Sandra experienced her first tube feeding so she would know the feeling once packed up and for whatever time it would be needed before she would get free once the delivery was completed.

Then it was time to pack things up. I mean, pack the girls up. I mean… get them ready to ship.

The instructions were very thorough and were given by the buyer. Derek was looking at them with Lynda, both their mouth half-opened as they read the procedure out loud to the girls.

First, each limb was to be wrapped individually with clear stretch wrap. Then each limb was to be wrapped in vet wrap. Then their whole bodies had to be wrapped in a minimum of three layers of black stretch wrap, as tight as possible, with their arms folded in front of them over their chests, like Egyptian mummies. They would add one layer of silver duct tape, followed by two layers of wide PVC tape, one in black and one in red, obviously.

The first layer of stretch wrap was hardly felt over their already very tight and thick latex catsuit. They did feel a small increase in the compression with the vet wrap but they were almost thankful for their corset: nothing was going to be tighter than that. Feeling their legs tied together wasn’t that bad, but when their arms were wrapped, they felt their last freedom was taken away from them.

The real feeling of restriction came with the layer of black stretch wrap, pinning their legs together.

Karen, who was used to a little self-bondage, coped with it rather easily, but Sandra was unprepared, and a little bit of panic set in.

“Just calm your breathing, Sandra,” said Lynda. “Everything will be fine. Thrust me. They don’t want to harm you otherwise they would lose money,” she said with a wink. Just close your eyes and dive into your inner thoughts. I’m sure you’ll find your happy place.

Sandra was puzzled by what Lynda just said as if she knew more than she let everyone know. Then again, she was friends with Karen, who was a kinkster herself, so perhaps. But still. Her investigator’s mind was tickled.

Karen’s breath was shaking as the third coat of tight stretch wrap was applied. she loved it. She gently squirmed on the preparation table, enjoying it, enjoying how tight it felt, anticipating spending four days all cozy in her cocoon. What? Wait. What the heck was wrong with her?

The layer of duct tape was applied, and it was pulled very tight. The stretch wrap and the vet wraps were, well, stretchy, but that duct tape was not. Karen loved it. Sandra was puzzled. She had mixed feelings. She was doing it for her country but… why was she aroused by it? Having sex on employer’s time? That was wrong. Was it?

Two layers of PVC tape, which was tight and would tighten as it rested. Karen enjoyed the feeling. She felt so warm and cozy. She was breathing with a little difficulty but since she wasn’t moving, it wasn’t a big deal. She could be fed and cleaned. And the tightness of that cocoon around her hips increased the feelings of the toys. She didn’t have much muscle play now that she was tightly wrapped but it would be enough to keep the trip amusing.

Their crates were brought in. It was a simple wooden crate, barely the size of their bodies. The bottom was lined with a self-expanding foam pad. The women were placed inside the crate and a glass vial was broken inside the bag, starting the chemical reaction inflating the foam. Karen felt being slightly lifted off the bottom of the crate, making it actually comfortable. She felt the foam creep around her body, feeling every little spot there might be.

Once the chemical reaction was complete, ten minutes later, following the instructions, Derek and Lynda added stainless straps around their bodies, screwing them to the bottom of the crate. There was one strap over their forehead, their neck, over and below the breasts, around the waist, hips, thighs, over and below the knees and at the ankles. They sure wouldn’t move and be well protected.

Another self-expanding bag was put over them. The string to break the vial was fed between the top of the crate and the cover, which was screwed on but let loose around the rope.

Derek and Lynda then yanked the rope of their respective packaged women and the foam inflated while they screwed tight the last screws of the lid.

Sandra felt her world compress around her. She was panicking. She was trying to get free, squirming around but nobody could hear her screams, nobody could see her squirming. Hell, she wasn’t moving as she was simply too restrained.

The odd thing was that… it aroused her. The more she fought the restraints, the more she tried to throw herself around, and the more excited she became. In the end, she wasn’t squirming to get free but to get the orgasm that was longing for. She was rejecting it, telling herself that it wasn’t right, but she could do nothing now. She didn’t care how she would be perceived. A police officer or a bondage slut? Fuck it.

It exploded.

Her brain was filled with images she never knew existed. Every cell of her body was experiencing the orgasm, and the more she struggled, the more intense it appeared to be, and the more extended it became, sending waves and waves of pleasure throughout her body.

Suddenly the deep tube, the over-inflated mouth, the tightness of the latex, the crushing of the corset, the large toys, her whole mummification became the source of her pleasure, the fuel for her pleasure. At that moment, she realized that she would never be able to feel another orgasm like that… unless she was all setup like that.

Of fuck! What did she do?

Karen was in her happy place. She felt good, all restrained like that. That fantasy certainly went through the roof, up to orbit. The reality was far from her fantasy. The reality was that she liked it even better than her fantasy.

Oh, yes, it was just temporary. In a few days, she would be out of that suit, that bondage, that submissive life. She was anxious. Anxious to get out and… anxious to not be in anymore. Yeah, she had mixed feelings.

“What if my new master treats me right?” she thought as she felt her crate being moved, and loaded on the delivery truck that would send her to the port.

What was really sad is that she never got to say goodbye to Lynda. Funny that even Lynda didn’t reach out to her to say her farewell. She would change her identity, probably her looks. She would move away. This was the last time she would see her.

As the truck began to move, she felt something else move. Under her heavy stretched mouth, she smiled. Yeah, the toys were on and were following the movements of the truck. That was a nice thought by Lynda. That also meant that she left her phone with her, somewhere in the crate. Well, it’s not like she’s going to use it again soon. New identity = new phone.

She was quite well cushioned in her crate and felt being moved around, by a forklift or something like that, then everything became silent, including her toys. Bummer.

She tried to move her butt muscles but she was so tightly wrapped and strapped that it didn’t do much. She had no track of time between that rest time and when things began to move again. Her inner ear had a hard time figuring out what was going on, but she was sure, she was on the sea, humping the waves. That’s when her toys began to hump her!

Sandra was on the verge of panicking. It was dark, she had no sense of orientation. she was feeling moved but where? How? She had always been in control of her life, of her choice. She never traveled blind. Now, she was traveling blind and deaf.

She experienced the toys moving inside her for the first time when she was carried by a truck. Well, she assumed it was by truck because the roads were rough. (Canada…). Then everything was silent for a while, including her toys.

It gave her time to think about what she had done, and her decision to be involved. It was a mixed decision. Of course, the first reason was to catch those slave traders. The second… She wanted to try the latex, the catsuit, the chastity belt. Somehow, she hadn’t figured out that she would be tied up, wrapped like a mummy, for a few days trip to Europe. Being constricted, and restricted had not been in her mind until now.

But as the truck moved, something else was in her mind. Those toys: they were alive! She never really discussed it with Lynda or Karen. She figured they were only there to plug her and to provide some teasing. Now to screw her mind out of existence!

And there she was. Oh damn, that was something she never felt before. The toys she used, that she or her partner were holding against her body, she could get away from it, she could pull them off, change their position.

Not now. Those toys were there. They were fixed. She had no way to reach them and that helpless feeling proved arousing! As surprising as it may sound, yes, it aroused her. So, when the ship hit the sea and began to rock side to side or front to back, she had no way to tell, it wreaked havoc!

She orgasmed. Once. Twice. Three, four times. She stopped counting after that. She would pass out and be awakened feeling something going into her stomach, food or water, she couldn’t tell, but everything was perfect. After a while, she actually found her situation… comfortable.

She had a thought: what if there was no way to dilute that skin glue and Karen would be permanently encased in her rubbery setup? What if SHE was permanently glued inside her suit? She imagined working in full rubber, ballet boots, corset. Hell, she could go into hazardous places without fear of acid sprays. Her gas mask would protect her against harmful fumes. She would glide easily into ventilation ducts. She would become a Super

Agent.

The thought filled her mind as the toys gave her another ride on Fantasy Island.

There was a sudden jerk of her crate and the toys kicked off a new session of pleasure. Stronger, harder than all the previous ones, like the last jolt of energy before dying. Their batteries should run dead sometime! They were carried. To where? They didn’t know.

Karen was eager to see her new master. Sandra was eager to spring into action at the first opportunity, the tracking device surely alerting all the police force of Europol and Interpol to be ready.

Ready to take down that rubber slave traffic ring.

She was positioned upright, slightly slanted to the back. She felt the pressure release over her body as the block of expanding foam was taken off. She felt something press against her head, reaching for the vinyl tape, then the duct tape, the clear wrapping, the vet wrap.

She began to see light, although fuzzy under the layer of clear stretch wrap. Then the view cleared. She saw a face. A smiling face.

“Hello, ladies…”

“Yes, chief, you wanted to see me, Chief?”

“Yes, Derek. About that slave ring? Where are you up to? I have the director of Europol on line. He says that they raided the warehouse as indicated by the GPS locator but only found empty crates. No signs of either Karen or Sandra. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No sir, I’m in communication with Europol myself, Samanta was Sandra’s partner. They are looking for them but apparently, they were tipped off about the GPS device and it was removed before the SWAT team entered the warehouse. Active searches are going on, sir. We’re doing the same on our side to find out who might be responsible for that.”

“Yeah, about that… Do you remember the nurse that helped with the… packaging, I really don’t like that term, anyway, with the way those women were shipped?”

“Yes. Kathy? Kathleen? Something like that. She called herself Kat.”

“Well, that’s not her real name. She’s nowhere to be found. It looks like she existed only the time needed to ship those poor women to a life of slavery, apparently.”

“Shit! She was part of the ring? That might explain.”

“Explain what?”

“The doctor told me that, when he packed back what was left of the setup goods, he found the bottle of milky liquid lower than expected, while the clear one was full.”

“If I remember correctly, the milky one was the permanent glue, right? How come?”

“He said that it was labeled ’lubricant’ while the clear one was labeled ‘permanent’. Someone switched the labels.”

“So, Sandra might be in danger, or already encased in rubber for life.” said the supervisor. I better tell her boss.

“And I better get in touch with Lynda, or rather Helen, her new identity,” said Derek.

“Well… Guess what…”

The sea was licking the beach, reaching two large wooden posts as the sun was setting in the distance. Between those posts, a little behind, was sitting a woman in a red latex bathing suit, on a beach chair, reading a book with the last rays of the setting sun.

A movement to her left, to the post, made her raise her head.

“Yes, Sandra. Sunsets are always that beautiful here. In time, you will learn to appreciate it.” said the woman as she picked up a bottle of sunscreen. “I hope you do realize how lucky you are, right? You will never have to grease yourself up with sunscreen to protect yourself against sunburns. On that point, I envy you.” she said.

Her phone rang. She wiped her greasy hands on her beach towel and picked it up.“Yes… Oh, hello Mistress Valerie. Is everything alright? Have you found your new place acceptable? Very good. And how about Kat? She’s right by your side? Perfect as I have a new order for you for three people. Two women, mid 20’s and one sissy… Yes… The habitual fee… Oh, thank you. Yes, everything is fine on my side. I bet they’re desperate to learn where Helen went… They will probably figure it out someday but it will be too late and in the meantime, I am enjoying my two new slaves. Those two new demonstrators are in perfect health and are quickly adapting to their new life… Yes, Mistress Valerie. You take care of yourself too and say hello to Kat.”

Lynda got up and walked to face the two posts.

As she turned around, on her right, was a woman in a red latex catsuit, tied with rope to the post, and to her left, another woman, this one in a black latex suit, securely tied to the post with rope at the ankles, knees, thighs, hips, waist and chest, with her arms tightly stretched and tied over their head. They were both gently squirming, helped by the moving toys.

“Enjoy the sunset and the night sky, ladies. Tomorrow, we embark on a trip to the German Fetish ball. You’ll make a sensation!”

(c) monsterp63

22nd of December 2024