Rehab Center, leather fetish story
Tight jeans fetish stories high heels training, shoes fetish rubber, boots, denim fetish stories
Prologue
The year: 2037. The place: New York City, UNA (United Nations of America). Following the terrorist nuclear explosion of Los Angeles in 2012, the world had regrouped in bigger countries, in an attempt to crush any rebellion or terrorist act. With that, the whole North America, Canada, USA and Mexico, plus all the countries of center and south America regrouped into the UNA. With that regroupment, new laws were enforced, in an attempt to lower the criminality rate that had been sky rocking after the nuke attack on LA. The old system of prisons had been replaced into rehab centers. The location of these centers were kept secret. Nobody knew exactly what was going on in these facilities, but one thing was sure: the criminality rate got down dramatically within the first 5 years, and now, roughly 22 years after its application, there's almost no more crimes, and the few that are made are still severely punished. What happen for those sent to those rehab centers? Nobody knows. When they get out (if they get out, that is), their names are changed, and reinserted into the society. Nobody would knew they are former criminals, and they're not the ones who would gladly say it that they were...
For Karen, it had been just a small mistake. Nothing THAT bad. She had stolen a candy bar. But the electronic register caught her, and she was arrested on the spot. She tried to explain to the officers that it was a mistake, that she forgot, but she wasn't believed... simply because it was the third time she did that in the last week. Three times in a week, to the authorities, was more than a simple mistake. She had to be sent to a rehab center. As a matter of fact, that is what she wanted. She had been without a job for the past year. She didn't had any money left to pay her rent, and she figured that a small time in a rehab center, maybe three months, would be enough. She would be given a new name, and be relocated, and be given a job. What more can she asked for. Unfortunately, things didn't not go exactly as planned for her.
She was alone with the judge (and 2 guards) when the sentence was heard. Five years. For stealing a candy bar? The judge coldly said that it was the minimum sentence for all misbehavior. That way, no one would try to abuse of the system. He said that with a smile on the corner of his mouth, as if he knew what Karen had tried.
"Why then isn't said everywhere that the minimum sentence is 5 years" said Karen, outraged.
"Because if we did, we would have nobody to send to the rehab centers" he said laughing, while walking out of the courtroom. The two guards grabbed her by the arm, which were securely locked in her back. Five years. What the hell have I thrown myself into she said to herself.
PART I
She was being sent for five years into a rehab center... for stealing a chocolate bar. Way much more that she had bargained for. She was put on a small bus. There were no windows. She was the third one to enter the 12 places bus. To her dismay, she was rigged as the other two: sat on a single place seat, hands bound behind the seat with handcuffs, and a chain linking the handcuffs to the floor. She couldn't raise her hands. Her legs were secured individually to each front leg of the seat. A blindfold and a ball gag applied. There was now way for her to get out of there.
The ride took quite a while, and she even surprised herself at dozing off. After a time she had now way to tell, the bus stopped and she heard the door open. She was kept blindfolded and gagged. Her feet were freed of the restraints, and her arms unlinked from the floor, but kept handcuffed in her back. They walked along endless corridors, and entered an elevator. They went down, and down, and down. Either the elevator was surprisingly slow, or they were going deep, deep down. Finally, it stopped. She was again led through long corridors, and she was backed to a wall. A collar was then fastened around her neck. When the hands released her, she made a tentative attempt to walk forward to learn that the collar was fixed to the wall by a very short chain. She did not manage one single step. She waited there, standing up, hands cuffed in her back. To her it seemed like hours. Maybe it was, she had no way of telling it. Finally, she heard footsteps. Sounded like high heels. Her blindfold was removed, and she was face to face with a tall black haired woman. She was wearing a full black leather catsuit with studs everywhere. Her hairs were strictly pulled back in a bun. Not a single loose hair was visible. Karen saw that her two mates in travel were also there. The lady walked back to a desk at the other end of the small room. She leaned against it, showing her 6 inches heeled boots. They were so shiny that Karen could almost see her reflection in them. She found strange that a prison guard would dress like that. She began, from a strong, cold voice.
"You have been sent here because you did something bad. I don't know what you did, and I don't give a damn. That is not my problem, it's yours. You are here for a minimum of five years..."
So taught Linda I'm not the only one with this sentence.. why a minimum of 5 years?.
"... or rehab. You're probably asking yourself: did she say a minimum of 5 years? Well, yes, I did. If you don't behave properly, more years will be added to your sentence. What kind of misbehavior will do that? You'll know when you'll do one. So, if you want to know, misbehave. If you don't want to know, behave properly.
I will tell you one punishment policy: Each time you do something that is not within the guidelines, you are given misbehaving points. The points are accumulated for the day. At the end of the day, the number of points corresponds to a punishment. That punishment is applied for 24 hours the first time, 48 the second time, and so forth. You are... allowed a maximum of 5 points per day. If you go to 6 or beyond, a punishment is permanently applied for the duration of your sentence. I strongly suggest you do not go to 7."
She paused, as if she wanted to be sure the prisoners got the message before continuing.
"The facility is located 12 levels below the ground. Some of the work have to be done at ground level. If you behave properly, you might be selected to do that work, and thus have a chance to see the light of day instead of this dimmed artificial light."
Dimmed? Thought Karen. These lights are rather bright, if not too bright.
"Escape is impossible. And if you do try... well, try it, and you'll see the end result. Any question?"
"Very good."
That was to expect, since everybody was still gagged.
" Now, you will be provided with your... I like to call it your uniform. It will be yours for the rest of your sentence, and will be removed only in case of medical emergency."
In case of medical emergency only? thought Karen. I'm not going to wear the same clothes day after day without being washed, and taking a shower in them is not it!. She was decided to launch a protest when three guards entered. They were all women, wearing form fitting leather catsuit and high heels boots. They were strong built, and Karen decided to offer no resistance. Why would they dress like that? She thought.
They were led to shower cabins. Her cuffs were removed, as well as the gag and the court issue bright orange cotton jumpsuit with "rehab center" printed in big black letters on the back. There was no soap bottle to be seen. The water started. It wasn't too hot, of not rather cold. Then the spray changed for something more gooey. Karen thought it was the soap, and she rubbed herself thoroughly with it. When the spray changed to water, she was surprised to see all those hairs to go down the drain. At the same time, she heard the other girls scream. It had been a hair removal product. Karen tried to get out of that shower, but to no avail. The door was locked. She rinsed off the remaining of the cream, a tear on the corner of her eye. The spray turned again to a gooey stuff, but this time, it was soap. Karen rubbed herself, feeling strange having her skin so smooth. Water came again, followed by a creamy spray. The voice of the authority lady was heard.
"This is a moisturizing cream. Rub it in." Karen proceeded and then heard the shower door unlock. She opened it and was immediately grabbed by "her" guard and led to another room. There, she was alone. She was indicated to sit on the chair and to wait. There was another door on the other side of the room. She heard a lot of noise and some screaming, but couldn't make out anything. After what seemed like half an hour, she was instructed to go in.
She entered a totally white room. There were two women, dressed in skintight shiny white nurse uniform, and the black leather clad woman. Karen was instructed to go inside a shower like booth, in the middle of the room. She was helped to take place. She had to place her feet on special footrests that forced her heel high in the air, as if she was wearing high heel shoes. She was told by one of the nurse that she will have to keep her arms away from her body, and her fingers spread, that if she was to touch her body in the process, it would be very painful to start again, like the woman who went before her. That would explain the screaming thought Karen. Greasy stuff was applied to her eyelids, lips, inside of the ears, and intimate openings. A hollow flat tube was inserted to her mouth and she was asked to hold it between her teeth, and to keep her eyes closed. The tube was covered with the same greasy stuff. The door was then closed. She heard a hissing sound, and she was sprayed by a rather hot liquid. She managed to stay in place, and not try to protect her face with her hands. The hot liquid was coming from everywhere. She could feel the soft jets all over her body. After about one minute, the spray stopped, and strong infrared lamps turned on. Karen had the feeling that she was about to be cooked. Finally, the door opened, and she was told to open her eyes. She looked at her arms. They were covered with a thin black shiny material. Although there was not that thick of the stuff, she had to walk on her toes for her feet not to hurt. She felt its texture with her fingers.
"This is rubber" she said.
"Very good" said the black woman. "And this is only the beginning."
She was led to a table and instructed to lay down on her back. Before she could react, she found herself restrained at the ankle, knee, waist, chest, wrists, elbow and neck to the table, with leather straps. Her legs were spread, being bound to individual boards.
The nurses started to work on her, or rather on her orifices. They sprayed a local anesthetic on her throat and started to feed in rubber tubing, through her mouth and her nose.
“Let me enlighten you on what’s going on” started the black lady. “Right now, you are being fitted with what you’ll need to survive. The tubes down your throat are for feeding and breathing because, as you probably have guessed by now, you’re going to be gagged. Similar tubes are being inserted into your lower orifices for bodily functions. When you’ll need to go, all you’ll have to do is plug the appropriate hose into the plug. As for the more, shall I say, solid matter, the tubing will provide for an enema. Once everything will be done, you’ll be completely sealed, and there’s more to come.” She concluded with an evil laugh.
The nurses were surprisingly strong, and although Karen fought with all her will, there was nothing she could do to stop them. She felt the tubes being inserted and the catheters inflated. The tip of the hose in her mouth was ending with a fluffy rubber sack that was stuffed into her mouth. The edge was glued and smoothed over her mouth. Then she opened wide eyes when a nurse approached with a large syringe filled with black goo. The nurse inserted the needle of the syringe on the side of the tube, and pushed the handle. Karen felt the sack in her mouth being filled, more and more. The pressure increased, her cheeks started to inflate. She thought her jaws were going to break when the nurse removed the needle.
“Right now, the filling is soft, but it will harden within a few hours.” Said the black lady.
Then, very dark lenses were applied over Karen’s eyes. They too were sealed. Her fear grew again when she saw the nurse approach with another syringe to her eyes.
“Relax” said the black lady “let me explain. With these lenses, your eyes are completely sealed. Left like that, the lenses will fog up, or your eyes will dry. What the nurse is doing here is filling the space between the lens and your eye with a special gel that will protect and nourish your eye. Your vision will be blurred for a few hours, then it will be just fine.”
Karen felt the cold gel get being pushed in. She closed her eyes, but the gel was inserted with such pressure that it made its way trough. When she opened her eyes again, she was seeing as if she was looking through wax paper. All she could tell is if there was light or not. Then it was totally black. Then light again. The black lady continued. “There’s a small circuit embedded in each lens, powered by your own muscles. We have the possibility to turn off your vision at will. That’s another one of our control. The next ones are the ear plugs. Yes, of course, we can decide what you will hear or not.”
With that, Karen felt the plugs being inserted into her ears, and all sound were blocked. All she could hear was her breathing, and her heart pounding heavily. There was some cracking noise in her ears.
“Do you hear me?” asked the voice. Karen nodded as much as her restraints allowed. “Very good then. They too are powered by your own body power, so they can never run out of energy.” It was followed by silence. Once everything was smoothed down and polished, Karen was put back on her feet. A stocking catsuit was then put on her. The knitting was much thicker from the hips to her shoulders, than the rest of it. Her breasts were lightly knitted. That was also the tightest portion, although it was not uncomfortable. The catsuit encased her totally, from her toes, to each individual finger. Her left hand was left with independent fingers, but the fingers of her right hand were grouped as in a mitten, with only the thumb sticking out.
“This is a special suit” she heard in her earplugs. “It is made of kevlex, a fabric we developed. That fabric, although very stretchy, when exposed to a particular light wavelength, tend to revert to its original size and lose its stretching properties. It also becomes very strong, and almost indestructible, unless the proper wavelength is applied. The more knitting, the more strength it gets. As for your hands, since you’re right-handed, a little restraint was applied there. You’ll see the full effect in a few minutes.”
With that, Karen was helped, or rather dragged, back to the shower cabin. This time, a thick coat of black goo was applied to the footrests before she was put in place. She was ordered to keep her arms away from her body. She didn’t see any reason to disobey. The door was closed, and she was again alone, but even more this time. With her blurred eyesight and her muffled hearing she felt alone. The lights came off. Or was it her lenses that were turned off. No, she suddenly saw bright violet lights, and she started to feel compression all over her body, but especially on her waist and chest. The kevlex suit was reverting to its original shape, and Karen realized with horror that its original size conveyed a rather small waist. The compression continued again, and again. Air was forced out of her lungs. The compression was so intense, it was hurting. Then is stopped. She tried to catch her breath, which was difficult through the breathing tube. Her heart was pounding hard. She felt stiff all over her body, an equal pressure could be felt everywhere, except for her upper body which was extremely stiff and compressed. It felt like she was encased in steel. The violet lights were turned off, and the white lights were turned on. Then there was a spray of black rubber, dried with infra red lights, then 2 more sprays, and finally, a spray of clear rubber, to provide the final shine to the outfit.
The door was opened, and her footrest released. She stumbled to keep balance while she walked, her feet still arched with her heel 5 inches higher than her toes. She was brought in front of a mirror. Although her vision was far from perfect, what she saw in the mirror astonished her. It was a curvaceous woman’s body, pitch black and extremely shiny, her waist as thin as any model would have wish for, her head was smooth and black, with black eyes. Her long legs were terminated by 7 inches platform soles, 2 inches thick, giving a net heel height of 5 inches. Her whole body felt stiff and restrained. She was breathing with short gasps. A white and black sticker was applied on her left shoulder. It read 18927.
“Very well, 18927. From now on, you no longer have a name, but a number. Obey, and you will be fine. Disobey, and pay the price.”
With that leather cuffs were applied to her wrists and ankles. Her hands were tied in her back, and a 10 inches chain was linking her ankles. A 2 inches wide leather collar was applied, and a leach attached. One of the guards pulled on it.
“Come” she said. That was the last sound she heard before her hearing was cut off.
All this for a candy bar, she thought. I wonder what those doing serious crimes ends up with. Then again, maybe not.