She was just having her morning coffee when the door bell rang. She opened to discover two very large men in suits wearing aviator’s glasses. Their faces were cold, almost dead pan. A funny sort of feeling came over her. They could have the mafia. They could have been the infamous Mr. Andersons from The Matrix.
“Is your name Karen?” One of them asked.
She felt a sickening twinge deep inside her stomach. The husband and the children had just left for a week of fun at Space Camp. An accident? What could have happened?
“Yes. Why? What is the problem?” She wanted to know.
“May we step inside, mam?”
“Yes, of course. I am sorry,” she said.
“We have a letter for you.”
Now, fearful, Karen almost grabbed the letter from the man. She opened it and read: My dearest darling wife, I know that you have been so loving. You have raised some beautiful children and made such a happy home for us. You have been my lover in every way. Faithful, devoted, and you have always given your body over to me. You have been passionate and, much to my delight, you have willingly been so submissive. But, of recent, I must confess that I have wanted more. I want you to become a full time slave. I want you to be challenged and to learn these new and special secret things. Since we could never just explore this idea in the bedroom for an hour or two after the children have gone to bed, I am asking that that you become a sex slave. I am asking for you to go with these men for this week and to do as told. I know that this will be a great challenge. I am asking a lot. I know that you will have to summon all of your courage to do this. But I also now that if you truly love me you will go with these men.
Karen’s hands had begun to tremble. She had been completely blind sided. What was she to do? She thought about it for a minute and then said, “Alright, what do you want me to do?”
It was her passive aggressive voice. She would do whatever she had to do, simply because she had to. The rest was uncertain. The whole idea of giving up her week alone did not make her happy, especially for some stupid game.
“Remove your panties,” said one of the men with no expression whatsoever.
“And if I don’t,” Karen asked, still assertively.
“Then we go away,” the other man said.
Karen wore a light cotton summer dress. She had expected to be alone. The panties were her only undergarment. They had suddenly become very precious. But she reached under her dress, almost modestly.
“No,” said the man. “In your bedroom.”
Oddly, this made this same act almost more intimate, more sexual, and more humiliating in the bedroom. But she complied again and removed her panties right in front of them.
“Put this on,” the other man said.
It was different pair of panties made from latex. A big rubber dildo had been vulcanized directly into the crotch. The whole idea was absurd and obscene.
“We can put them on for you.”
“No!” She said it again.
She felt like a trapped animal. What could she do? She loved her husband dearly. What could she do? She took the panties and stepped into them as demurely as possible. There was something very pornographic about the whole process. She pulled up the panties almost to her crotch, but stopped short just as the dildo touched her sex.
She paused for a second. She needed all of her courage to complete this task. She would have to hike up her dress all the way and pull the latex panties up as she worked the dildo inside her sex. And she knew she would have to do it with the two men watching. It was all too much. She began to cry.
But she did as told. The men watched the whole procedure, of course. The rubber dildo posed a special problem. It was dry. So, much to her own embarrassment, she licked her hand and then swabbed her saliva on it. Her tears continued to run down her cheeks. The net result was actually more obscene than she imagined.
But the men were not finished. They pulled her hands behind her back and cuffed her wrists. One of them held her while the other took out some transparent Kevlar fishing line. He tied her ankles and left a fair amount of lead line between. Karen could still walk, but she could not run.
One of them put a piece of white cloth adhesive tape across her lips, effectively gagging her, rendering coherent speech useless. The other man grabbed the makeup bag from her purse. Her took out a jar of makeup base and smeared the tape with the pancake, matching it to her own skin. Next, he applied some of her lipstick.
Now helpless and unable to protest, they collared her with a simple black leather band. It was embossed, “K.”
A raincoat from her own closet was the last touch. They draped it over her shoulders like a cape. One of the men turned her toward the mirror. Karen’s bondage was complete. She was totally helpless, totally within the control of the two strange men. At a glance, and from a distance, Karen looked like she always did. Her predicament was totally hidden.
The three of them walked out of the front door together. One of them thought to lock it behind them. A big black Lincoln Town Car waited outside. A neighbor down the street waved. Karen could have struggled, but she was resigned. She nodded in reply as her hobbled feet made their way to the car.
One of the men sat beside her in the back, the other drove. Karen continued to cry, still frightened by what was to come. The man who sat with her blotted her cheeks with his handkerchief, an ironic gesture, considering her total captivity.
Ad then it happened: the dildo began to vibrate! She looked at the man in shock. He held up a remote control and showed it to her as he smiled. Karen began to struggle. She had decided right then and there that all of this was just too much, that this was a bad idea, that things had gone just a little too far.
She squirmed and bucked and even heaved he body, but it was too late. There was nothing she could do. The man showed her a police Tazer. She sat still as the vibrator continued to do its thing.
And then a siren ripped through the air. It was a squad car! They were getting pulled over! karen nearly jumped out of her skin. Whatever was going in the car? How could they ever explain it? What would her children say, especially if they had to lawyer up and appear in court. She felt panic and panic as never before.
“Can I help you officer?” the man in the front seat asked as he rolled down his window.
“You were speeding,” was the reply. “Five over.”
Karen tipped her head down. She did not want to be seen like this. And all the while the dildo remained perched deep inside of her oblivious to her peril, mindlessly vibrating away, turning her vaginal walls into liquid which coated her insides and ran down into the panties. Lucky, she thought that her own sex muffled the sound: lucky, again that her own liquids stayed inside the latex, lucky that there was no tell-tale aroma of arousal in the air.
“Sorry, officer, I was looking my GPS screen and the car got away from me. I should have known better.”
Karen began to feel wave after wave of pleasure course through her veins. She could not help it. She inhaled deeply. Her heart was racing. Her body called for more oxygen as her pheromones began to take hold of her. She did all she could to sit still.
“Well, alright. Just be careful,” said the officer. “This is a residential area.”
Instinctively she shot a furtive glance at the cop. Their eyes locked for just a second as she turned her head away. She blushed a deep crimson red.
“Have a good day,” said the man as he rolled up his window.
Karen began to squirm. The squirming turned into a rolling of her hips as the vibrator continued to press on. Her breathing grew rapid. She found herself reaching the throes of an orgasm. But the orgasm just would not happen. She needed more stimulation, some tenderness, some sort of human touch. She moaned in frustration and looked up at the man sitting next to her as if to say, “please.”
The man ignored her at first, but she moaned again and again. He responded coldly, almost clinically. He reached down the front of her dress and gently massaged her nipples. She looked at him again. It wasn’t a sexual thing. The man could care less about what he was doing.
But his fingers were skillful. They knew somehow or another the perfect thing to do. And that was enough, just enough to bring Karen up to the edge. She twisted and squirmed. Her hips began to take on a life of her own as she arched herself obscenely up from the seat. She moaned and moaned again. Her body began to vibrate even quiver, and , all the while, those hands continued to touch her nipples.
“Oh,” she moaned into her tape gag. Her body clenched. She closed her eyes, lost in sub space. It was all she could do. She needed any little bit of privacy that she could afford as she began to cum. She squirted as she did too. She could feel it well up deep inside her and it stimulated her even more as it gushed.
“Oh,” she moaned again.
She couldn’t help herself. The vibrator suddenly became just too much, but it did not stop. The man beside her knew. He removed his fingers, but she had choice but continue on.
“Take it easy, slave,” said the man as she began to quiver all over again. “We still have twenty more minutes to get there.
But it was too late. Karen had already cum for a second time. Her journey had been less than an hour, but she was frightened by this new thing that she had become. She was no longer Karen, not the loving wife., not the wonderful mother, but simply K, a sex slave. Nothing more and nothing less.