Karen – Living the Dream by MonsterP63
She Let out a long satisfying sigh, looking at herself in the long mirror, smiling.
She would have wanted the sigh to last longer, but her air intake was limited by the corset crushing her waist by 12cm. The heavy rubber garment was lined with steel boning, forcing her torso to remain immobile.
She ran her latex gloved hands over her highly polished latex covered thighs, reaching at the back, at her buns, where a single line was defining the glutes of her round buttocks.
In the mirror, the highly polished neck entry catsuit was reflecting her own image through the mirror. Yeah… she was looking at her suit, reflecting the mirror which was reflecting herself in the suit that was reflecting the mirror. Talk about an infinite loop.
Her slender legs were made longer by high heel ballet booties, laced tightly on her ankles.
She was slightly switching from one foot to the other to keep her balance. There was no way to stand still on such extreme footwear.
She ran her gloved hands through her thick hair… Oops, she no longer had hairs, but rather a smooth latex covered head.
That same morning, she decided to go bald, the best way to feel the latex. She had shaved her head then had put on the thick latex hood, which carried only eyes and mouth holes.
For the time being, she needed her mouth and her eyes. She still had to go to work, and actually work.
The gag and the blindfold would be when she’ll come back home, laying besides the series of padlocks she would use at that time, to lock them as well as to link the different cuffs that were already locked on her, but not linked together.
The light shone on her highly polished steel chastity belt, locking the corset and the suit in place, as well as some toys, which were silent. Again, this was for some private moments.
She turned her head, impaired by the large collar, toward the door, then back at the mirror.
She was living her dream life. Finally.
She took her small rubber purse and headed for the door.
Walking down the three flights of stairs from her apartment to the street was not easy in her extreme boots, impaired by the corset and almost not seeing the stairs because of the collar, but she loved the challenge.
She also loved how she felt the tight latex catsuit stretch and strained against the movements of her legs. She could feel the rubber pinch her buns as she walked down the stairs to the street.
Someone was coming, going up. It was Phil, one of her neighbors from the same floor. He stopped dead on his tracks, looking totally stunned at the sight before him.
“Hi Phil. How ya doing? Your night shift is over?”
He stood there, mouth agape, totally stunned, looking at this sculptural form graciously getting down the stairs in front of him, her ample breasts slightly bouncing with each step, as if the shiny material they were encased in, acted like a tight rigid bra, the harsh lights of the staircase reflecting on every bumps and curves of the polished black suit.
He marvelled at her tiny waist, and her bright smile, pretty much the only skin visible.
“Ka…. Karen? Oh…. Hi.” he managed to say.
It was as if his brain was totally drained of any blood.
“Well, have a nice rest.” she said, giggling, passing by him, filling the air with the strong smell of rubber, filling the echoing staircase with the sounds of her heels and the creaking of the tight rubber.
She found his reaction strange, somewhat extreme. It was not as if it was the first time he saw her like that, she’s been doing it for a long time now. People had adapted and had accepted her way of life. Well, she didn’t give them much choices: that was it. Period.
She reached the bus stop shelter, where five or six people were already waiting. They had all their heads turned toward her as she approached, heels clicking, latex creaking. She was used to it. She was the center of attention.
Oh she liked it, but it had come to pass, and they were not staring at her anymore. Although today… Was it something wrong?
She got on the bus. She smiled at the regular driver who looked stunned and headed for her regular seat, the one she paid to have a few modifications, where rings and chains with quick links were waiting for her, but someone was already sitting on it, and the chains were nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps it was not her regular bus, so this one didn’t have the modifications, which would explain the driver’s face. It was as if for some reason, he hadn’t expected her to be in this morning, and was surprised to see her, knowing that he didn’t have the right bus.
Again, she felt a lot of eyes staring at her. It became uncomfortable. Apparently, one can feel when it is being stared at. Intensely.
Was it something wrong with her suit? Did she have a tear? She would have felt it for sure. She was out of her latex outfit only one day per two weeks. Was the padlock of her corset opened, or worst gone?
She felt the back of her corset and was glad to feel it, very well locked. Something wrong with her chastity belt? Was her crotch zipper opened and he was dripping sweat on the floor?
She made a tentative risky move of her right hand to reach her belt, as low as she could feel, but everything seemed normal.
The bus ride seemed a lot longer than usual. She was puzzled, troubled and was eager to get off this suddenly strange bus and go to work, where she was welcomed as is.
It never raised any questions. She was efficient and her office only needed a few modifications to accommodate her new lifestyle: a few rings with chains here and there. She liked to be restrained, even if it meant not being locked and thus, being able to free herself.
She entered the building, again, under the stunned look of other employees and took the elevator for the 7th floor. The four people she was with in the elevator were dead silent, glancing at her. She heard them whisper as she got off on her floor.
Something was wrong. But what?
She entered her office and walked directly toward her office, waving a hello to Lynda, the receptionist, who was on the phone, on the way in.
Lynda stopped talking and made wide eyes, following the strange rubbery sight.
The office lights were reflecting as she walked to her office, her heels dampened by the plush carpet. As she entered her office, she stopped.
“What…? She began to ask, stunned.
“Who are you? Can I help you?” she heard a woman say from a firm tone behind her. She turned around.
“Oh, hi Valerie. What’s going on here?” she asked her best friend but also her boss.
“Who are… Karen?”
“Well, yes, Val. Who do you think I was?”
“What is all this?” she asked, gesturing at Karen, from head to toe.
“What do you mean, what’s this? Where are my restraints?” asked Karen, pointing in her office.
“What are you talking about?” asked a very puzzled Valerie, joined by a few other coworkers, intrigued by the strange chatting.
“No… No… Something is wrong here. It never happens in my dreams. I must concentrate.” she said, closing her eyes. “Go on, Karen. You can do it, you can alter your dreams, you did it before…”
“Dream? This is no dream, Karen. Are you okay? Do you want me to call a doctor or something?”
“No, this is my dream, my fantasy dream! I.. I…” stuttered Karen.
“I don’t know what’s going on Karen. All I know is that yesterday, you left early stating that you weren’t feeling good, that you were going back home to take a sleeping pill.. Are you… under the influence?”
Karen looked around.
“Oh…”
Reality sank in
OH…”
And it hit her. She wasn’t dreaming.
“… SHIT!”
© Pete / monsterp63, July 11, 2020