Karen – The Perfect Slave by MonsterP63

This is the third in a multi-part series by MonsterP63 about Karen and her perfect life. It has basically everything Pierre writes about and more. Definetely one of my favourite fetish stories.

The second part is here.


Karen couldn’t believe what was just happening. She discovered that her good friend Lynda, the one she trusted most, had a double life and that she was a part time dominatrix. And now, she had captured Karen and had the project to make her a private slave.

Karen squirming in her tight duct tape cocoon didn’t stop Lynda. She dragged her down on the floor then had her kneel, pushing hard on her shoulders until her breasts were touching her knees. She then used more tape to hold her in this position. A few minutes later, Karen was immobile in a very tight ball tie.

Lynda then went to the kitchen to come back with some wood boards. She put one on the floor then rolled Karen over it. Then she took another and screwed it to the bottom part, making a side, then another one. It wasn’t long for Karen to figure out that she was being crated. Once the four sides had been carefully screwed, Lynda put a gas mask over Karen’s head and fed the long rubber flexible tube to a connector on one of the walls. She leaned over her captive friend.

“Just to let you know, there’s a muffler between the mask and the crate wall. Scream as hard as you can, not a sound will come out.” She said, laughing.

She then filled the crate with foam pellets, making sure that they were going everywhere, overfilling the crate before forcing the lid shut with more screws.

Karen couldn’t move at all. She tried to scream but it was already muffled by her tape gag and the muffler of the gas mask filtered everything else.

Lynda assembled another crate before going to Karen’s closet, picking all the rubber garments and fetish goods from it and placing it in the crate before fastening the lid.

Next, she relaxed on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. About half an hour later, there was a nock on the door, and two very stunned men were waiting.

“H… hi. We’re from the moving company?” said the shortest one of the two, obviously not impressed by the awesome sight in leather in front of him. The tallest one, behind him, had his mouth open and was drooling.

“Yes, Hi, I’m Karen.” She lied. “The task is quite simple: take all you see here except the two wood crates in the bedroom, and put them in the storage hangar here”, she said giving the guy a paper with all the instructions.

“Very well ma’am. I understand that we have to pack everything as nothing is pre-packed?”

“Yes, that is what I asked for.” She said with a smile.

As the men entered carrying empty cardboard boxes, a woman showed up. She too startled when she saw the leather clad lady in front of her.

“Hi, I’m from the courier service?” she said.

Lynda smiled when she saw that, as instructed, she had come with a wheeled buggy.

“Hi, I’m Karen.” She lied once more. “It’s the two wood crates in the bedroom. I understand that they should be delivered by the end of the day?”

“Yes Ma’am. Between 4 and 5 PM.”

“Very good.” Said Lynda while signing the waybill.

“Well guys, I’ll be gone for most of the day, but I’ll be back this afternoon to see how things are going.”

“Very good, Ma’am.” Said the shortest one. “Should be all done by then.”

Satisfied, Lynda went. She got out at about the same time the courier was departing. She had an evil smile at the thought of the packages.

Karen felt being moved then loaded into a truck. It drove away for a while and made numerous stops. On many occasions, she felt as if more boxes were added near her. She figured she was in some kind of delivery truck. Then she was moved again and laid there for quite a while.

Her muscles were starting to hurt, compressed as they were, but although she tried hard, she couldn’t move at all, not even a finger. She tried to scream, to shake the box, but it did nothing. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, she was moved again and this time, the ride took a long time, and it was quite bumpy on some occasions. She was unloaded and everything was silent for a moment before she heard the screws being removed with the electric screwdriver. The foam pellets were removed and she saw lights… and Lynda, standing tall, smiling.

She was taken out of her cocoon. First the ball-tie, then the legs were freed before Karen was forced to stand up, her legs apart linked to rings on the floor. The tape had stuck quite hard to her rubber clothing and Lynda didn’t take care to save any of them as she cut them without more care.

Her torso was freed next then her arms uncuffed. Karen would have fought back while Lynda was applying leather cuffs, but her arms were just too numb. The wrist cuffs were fastened and locked and her arms stretched up, linked to chains dangling from the high ceiling.

Next was the head wrap. Karen had a bad feeling about it since the tape was put directly over her long hairs. To her horror, Lynda took the easy way out, shaving Karen’s head.

Lynda ran her leather gloved hand over the now smooth scalp.

“Don’t worry.” She said to a sobbing Karen. “You like your rubber better this way.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

Karen immediately received a slap of a riding crop.

“Ouch!”

“A slave is not allowed to speak unless specified.” Said Lynda, looking at her straight in the eyes.

“You won’t get away with this, people will look for me.”

Slap!

“Ouch!”

“You’re really stubborn, aren’t you? Don’t worry. According to the official records, you ordered your apartment cleaned yesterday, and then you took a plane for the south islands where you disappeared after emptying your bank account, which had suddenly increased by a couple of millions dollars. In short, people would think that you were involved in some kind of scam and that you fled the country with the money”

“But… It’s all lies. People will find out… Ouch!”

“You don’t have a clue, don’t you? You would be surprised by the kind of people that require the services of a dominatrix. Yes there’s the simple average day person, but there’s also lawyers, accountants and even diplomats, all willing to do anything for their mistress.” She said, ending with a really evil laugh.

“You won’t have me that eas… Ouch! Stop that… Ouch!”

“Even better! Now, it’s time to get you ready. After all, you’re my slave now, and this is no vacation resort… For you anyway.”

Half an hour later, Karen was all dressed up. She could feel the two huge hard rubber dildos invading her. They were not vibrating and were really uncomfortable. Lynda had told her that she would get rewards when she would deserve it, and right now, she didn’t.

She had on a thin clear rubber catsuit, complete with attached feet, gloves and hood which had clear lenses over the eyes. There was only a mouth hole, currently filled with a large black rubber ball gag, part of a complete head harness, drawn excruciatingly tight around her head, forcing the gag deep in her mouth.

Her neck was held straight by a thick three inches wide leather collar. Under her French maid outfit, her waist was crushed by a rigid latex corset with heavy boning, reaching from the hips to below her breasts. She was standing on knee high kid leather ballet boots, her ankles linked by a short chain locked to leather cuffs. Around her waist, was a tight steel belt on each side of which was starting two short lengths of chains attached to leather wrist cuffs. It allowed Karen small movements, enough to perform, not without difficulties, the tasks Lynda had ordered her to do: prepare dinner.

A while later, the meal was ready and she was bringing Lynda’s plate to the dining room. Her neck collar was linked with a long chain to the ceiling, long enough to allow her to walk from the kitchen to the dining room. With some struggling not to spill anything, she put the plate in front of Lynda then took place on the chair beside her. Lynda went wide-eyed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? A slave should NEVER sit at the same table as her mistress.” She said, giving a sharp yank at the neck chain, putting Karen off balance as she was getting up, who ended on the floor.

She had Karen kneel a little back to her chair. She then linked her elbows together in her back, and linked them to her ankles. The chain was so short that it forced Karen to stand kneeling, her back arched, not able to sit on her legs as it pulled on the chain.

Lynda ate the meal, liking it but not to full satisfaction. Too salty as she said, waiving the fact that Karen couldn’t taste it when she made it.

“You have a lot to learn. The first days will be hard on you but I know you and I’m sure that you’ll learn quickly.” She said with a smile.

Karen grunted but was quick to receive a slap in the face.

“Never talk back to your mistress.” Said Lynda, severe.

The meal finished, Karen had to do the dishes, still bound.

“Well, it’s getting late and I do have to work tomorrow.” Said Lynda said with an evil grin. “Since I’m going to bed, you must be set up for the night.” She said, unlinking the kitchen chain and dragging Karen downstairs where she discovered an amazingly equipped dungeon.

She removed Karen’s hands from the belt and tied them in her back, also linking her elbow cuffs. She linked her collar to a ring, low on one wall, near two bowls. She filled one with water, the other with what looked like breakfast cereals.

“There. You have 15 minutes. Remember it because I won’t say it again.” She said, leaving.

Karen struggled to eat the dry cereals out of the bowl with her hands in her back, and tried to drink some water. Fifteen minutes sharp later, Lynda was back. She undressed her except the clear latex catsuit. She led her to a corner where a toilet was located. She opened the crotch zipper, removed the dildos, had Karen sit on the bowl and tied her arms to it.

“Fifteen minutes.” Coldly said Lynda before leaving.

Karen relieved herself with a sigh. It was welcomed. Again, 15 minutes later sharp, Lynda was back. She led Karen inside the large cage, on the far side from the door where was waiting a single steel frame bed with a rubber covered mattress. She linked her ankles together and her collar to a ring near the head of the bed, then went away, locking the door, turning off the dungeon dim light, closing the large steel door and locking it more.

Karen was secured. She had no way out of her cuffs, so even less from the neck chain to the wall, forget about the cage door and even the dungeon door. There were no windows, and no other doors.

She took place on the narrow bed and tried to get some sleep. On her numerous self-bondage sessions, she wished that someone else was in control, that she had no way, no means of getting out of her bounds, not after a timed device or a task. Now she had it. For how long? She figured that, although Lynda was without a doubt a dominatrix, that she was probably simply having fun with her, that the movers were just a prank and that she would be released soon, perhaps even the next day.

She was able to squirm on her stomach, enough to have the dildos move inside her, enough to have some pleasure. All this ordeal, although tough, had made her so hot… She exploded in muffled sounds. Upstairs, through a monitor looking at a dim light camera, Lynda was smiling at the sight.

“Enjoy it for now, Karen. Tomorrow is another day.”

She rubbed her hands along her black zentai PVC catsuit, pulling the hood with only breathing holes and eyes windows over her head and pulling the satin sheets over her, easily finding sleep, already enjoying planning the future of her new toy.

Karen found sleep but it was much more from exhaustion than rest. It had been a rough day. Since there was no window in the dungeon, she had no way to tell what time it was, if it was daylight or still night. She heard the dungeon door being unlocked and a woman wearing a complete PVC zentai catsuit appeared, walking on black platform sandals. She didn’t say a word. She unlocked the cage and removed the padlock securing Karen’s neck chain to the wall. She dragged her to the toilet where she fastened her back before leaving. Karen knew she had 15 minutes. Then she was positioned for her meal, the same thing as the night before, again for 15 minutes. Finally, she was dressed up with the French maid uniform and brought upstairs.

“I want one egg, turned over, one slice of ham, toast and coffee. It is always what I eat for breakfast. It’s the last time I tell you.” Said Lynda, securing Karen’s neck chain.

Karen did the best she could. The result was a poke yoke on the egg, too cooked ham and too light toasts. The coffee was probably okay although she couldn’t taste it. Lynda ate by removing the hood of the zentai suit.

“You’re an awful cook. Problem is, I know you and I know that you’re way better than this. Now, I have to go to work. I can’t allow you to wander around the house. You’re too smart and not house broken yet. In addition, you have a few items that deserve some punishments, like talking without being allowed, grunting back at your mistress and making poor meals. Come.”

Karen was dragged downstairs again. Her maid outfit was removed and her arms linked in her back, elbows touching. She was put next to some kind of bench. Her legs were spread and tied to the legs of the bench. Then she had to bend down at the hips until her upper body rested on the padded yet narrow horizontal portion of the bench, about one feet wide. Her collar was linked to a ring on the bench and a wide strap was used to secure her waist to the bench, very tightly.

Then, out of Karen’s view, Lynda moved some equipment. Karen felt some light tapping on her buns then Lynda approached.

“The fun thing about this device is that the two slappers work at different speeds, and that each slapper wheel has different pads rigidity. It’s a whole lot of fun preparing for something you don’t know.” She said with a devilish smile, then she started the machine.

First, Karen’s right bun was slapped hard, then the left one, then immediately after it the right one, then the left one but lightly, and it went on, sometimes hard, sometimes soft, as the two wheels, each fitted with about a dozen different paddles were slowly turning, slapping her buns sometimes in unison, sometimes alternatively. Karen was quick to squirm because with each hard slap, she was moving forward to compensate the blow, and each time, she was pushing making the dildos move.

“You can scream all you want. No sound can come out of this dungeon and even if it did, the nearest neighbour is 10km away. Have a nice day.” Said Lynda before leaving, taking care to turn down the light which left Karen in total darkness being slapped relentlessly.

About 10 hours later, Karen’s buns were on fire. The constant slapping had torn off the thin rubber coating on her buns many hours ago and she could feel the paddles directly on her skin. She had stopped screaming, she had no voice anymore. She was exhausted, the pain was unbearable and she was close to passing out when the lights were turned on and Lynda entered. She stopped the dreadful paddles and looked at the result: reddish, ready to bleed, buns.

“Geesh! What a nice job!” she said, rubbing her leather covered hand over Karen’s sensitive buns. “I guess you got the lesson learned now?”

Karen nodded yes. She would have acknowledged to anything to get released.

“The good thing is that you won’t be able to sit or lay on your back for a couple of days. How convenient.” She said with a devilish smile, before removing the restraints holding Karen down. “It will give me all the excuses I need to keep you standing up.”

She removed the different cuffs, the gag, the corset and pointed to a door in the corner.

“There’s a shower there and you’ll also see some soothing cream. Take a shower, shave completely, apply some cream and come back. You have thirty minutes.”

Karen complied, not adding a word. Her sensitive buns freshly reminded her of the outcome if she was to resist or complain. Half an hour later, she was out and Lynda was waiting for her with an all new set of rubber garments.

This time, it was a bright red catsuit with a small two-way crotch zipper and… no back zipper. Karen was puzzled when Lynda had her put her feet through the neck hole.

“That’s a neck entry catsuit. Don’t worry, you’ll go in.” she said with a grin.

The suit, which had attached toe socks and gloves, was fed slowly up her legs, revealing that it was extremely tight and the rubber rather thick. Lynda struggled and swore a few times while getting the suit up to Karen’s breasts. Then, one arm at a time, she had Karen slide that arm through the neck opening and into the arm sleeve. When she put her second arm in, the suit rose up by itself around her neck, pushing all the air that was still inside it, out.

Then Lynda produced a thick rubber hood. It was anatomically shaped like a head but didn’t have any zipper. It had a very large yoke though. Putting it on turned out to be almost impossible. Lynda had to pull on it little by little so that it would stretch around Karen’s head before slowly gliding down, crushing her nose in the way, and finally kind of popping in place once the neck was down. Karen felt her head like in a vise, tight everywhere. Opening her mouth was difficult and there was only a very small hole at the mouth, two nostril holes and two red tinted lenses over the eyes.

Lynda carefully stretched the collar of the suit and put the large yoke under the collar and shoulder of the rubber catsuit. It would be very difficult to remove. She added knee high, lace-up red platform boots with seven inches heels. She then added a red and black leather collar, two inches wide, red and black leather cuffs at her elbows, wrists, and ankles. She then laced a red and black leather waist cincher, crushing her waist a good four inches. Although it was somewhat smaller than the corset she wore before, it was nonetheless, very tight. Everything was then secured with small padlocks.

Lynda then opened the small crotch zipper and stuffed in two huge red silicone dildos before closing and locking it. Finally, she took a chain and linked her ankles, knees and her wrists together along its length. Then another length of chain to link her elbows in a way that she could put them on each side of her body. She couldn’t get her hands higher than her squeezed breasts.

To top it off, her head was covered with a gas mask, hoses linked to cartridges in her back.

“Okay, slave. Now, go make my dinner.” She said, slapping her on her sensitive buns.

Karen twitched which gave a push on the dildos. She moaned with the surprise and although the slap was painful, she knew better than to answer back. She struggled to get upstairs, the chain link between her ankles barely enough for her to climb the steps. By doing so, she was twisting her butt in a way that made the dildos work her quite hard. Once upstairs, she was on the verge of having an orgasm, but she couldn’t stop to do it, Lynda being just behind her and waiting for an excuse to slap her more.

She hobbled to the kitchen where the recipe was waiting. She was hooked to the kitchen/dining room chain and went to work.

Now, ever tried to cook when you have a cold? This is about how Karen felt: unable to smell, unable to taste, even unable to feel and barely able to see. And worse, Lynda wanted a quite complicated recipe.

Karen went to work, struggling to get all the ingredients from the higher shelves. Yes, she had a little step ladder, but getting on it was a struggle, because of her restraints, but also because of the darn dildos getting in the way, setting her mind off her task.

She did the recipe as best as she could, hoping that it was spicy enough without being too much, that it was cooked just right and just the right temperature for everything.

She hobbled to the dining room and worked hard to put the full plate on the table without spilling anything. She then struggled to open a bottle of wine and pour a glass, again without a single drop falling off. She then took her place, kneeling to the side and back of Lynda.

Judging by Lynda’s face, the meal was not exactly up to spec, but she didn’t say a word. After the meal was done, Karen was left to clean the table, do the dishes and clean the kitchen before reporting back to the dining room, as far as her chain allowed her to.

There, Lynda tied her hands in her back, elbow touching, removed the gas mask and the neck chain. She was made to follow into the office where she was ordered to kneel close to a wall. Her feet were linked to a ring at the bottom of a wall, while her neck was linked to another ring, higher up, forcing her to kneel upright. She had to stay like that for close to two hours while Lynda was apparently doing some paperwork.

Finally, she was led downstairs, to the dungeon and prep for the night. She was put face first on the X frame and secured there. Although it was not as comfortable as she would have liked, she was glad she wasn’t resting on her still aching buns.

Friday afternoon. Lynda was back from work and was untying Karen from the ball tie she had spent the day in, because she had spilled some wine the night before while serving it. Oh, it wasn’t her first. She had been slapped relentlessly on Monday, was put in the vacbed for the day Tuesday because of the bad dinner of Monday evening, hung upside down Wednesday because she forgot to clean one hard to reach spot in the kitchen Tuesday night, was hogtied Thursday because Lynda had a bad day and had to let some steam out, and spent Friday in the ball tie because of the spill. Lynda turned out to be one heck of a strict mistress and Karen now feared her.

“I have a big test for you this weekend, Karen. I have a customer who’s coming to spend the weekend, and I will need an assistant. Behave and work properly and you’ll be rewarded. Try to flee, ask for help or mess up things and you’ll feel that the punishments you had this past week were like being at the beach. Understood?”

Karen nodded a very sharp yes. She didn’t want it to become worse.

… To be continued (Look for Karen – The Perfect Assistant)

© Pete / monsterp63, July 25, 2007


This story is continued in Karen – The Perfect Assistant