Rubber Bombs

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This is the third installment for Agent Mouse with Honeybee and Polecat. She is captured and brainwashed with fifty other girls and prepared to become human bombs. Mouse also no longer knows who she is and is one of the brainwashed due to become a decoy and bomb.

Romance / Erotica
Dee Vee Iante
Age Rating:

Client Daisy 6

“Good morning. It is a beautiful morning for a walk, Resident Daisy. Don’t worry too much that you can not move right now; that will wear off. I am here to serve you on hand and foot during your shaping and cleaning.”

What will wear off? Get me ready for what? Shaping and cleansing? Why can’t I remember anything?

The voice continued, “I am Novice Companion Rita, and I will help you get through your first day at Green Acers Health Farm. I am there for your day and night and will do everything for you. You will feel a little discomfort, which will increase as the cleansing wears off, but I will help and be with you every step of the way. To ensure that I give you the best possible service, Supervisory Companion Maya will oversight my work. Right now, you will feel cold, so we will dress. You will see; eventually, the transition to the new you will become exciting and fun.”

Another voice interjected, “Rita Six, you are dawdling and babbling. I will help you with the massage gelling so that the Client does not become sick before we start.”

The massage was anything but relaxing. The rough rubber-gloved hands that massaged my legs and arms dug in deeply and painfully. I wanted to tell the bitch to ease off, but I could not speak or move, and my thoughts were sluggish too. I felt everything but could do nothing, not even move a finger. Although the smaller, gentler rubber-gloved hands were kind of nice, I would enjoy the message if not for the bitch.

Almost without transition, the massage turned into an oil massage. The rough hands were infuriating me, and my inability to move or say something or even scream was maddening. Oh, what? The small hands rubbed the oil into my anus, vagina, and even urethra. It was a bit intrusive but felt professional, so I guess I did not mind.

The rough hands instructed, “Child, fetch size-three garments please and double layering of winter catsuits. On your way, pick up the Client’s custom boots while I intubate her... What are you waiting for, Novice?”

With a deferential tone, the younger voice questioned, “I am sorry, Supervisory Companion Maya. I would have thought that size-six is the right size, mam. Client Daisy Six was the same size as I when I started, and you used size-six then.”

Sounding exaggerated, the older woman explained, “That was three years ago TRAINEE Companion Rita. But you are right. Come to me later, and I will help you into size-zero to adapt to the same firmness. Thank you for reminding me, Companion Rita; now, fetch the size two client package and boots before you cause your Client further discomfort!”

I lay on the cold metal surface and shivering. I was regaining a semblance of control over my body and could move my fingers. I could not move my wide-open mouth or my tongue and felt tubes in my trachea and esophagus. It must be severe if I am intubated like when I, when I, what?

Suddenly Supervisory Comanipon Maya’s voice spoke, “Yes, Mistress. I was just trying to move her along. Yes, Mistress, I will instruct her as you say. Thank you, Mistress.”

After a moment of heavy breathing, then the door opened. I waited for an explosion, but the Supervisory sighed and spoke, “Novice Companion Maya. I will assist you with the dressing of the bodysuit then you can proceed as you like. We will evaluate your conduct and results after the first week, so I will allow you to do it your way. Please hand me the bodysuit. I will lift the Client while you open the neck and slide it up her. Her body weight should be enough to weight to stretch the suit over.

Like a piece of meat, I felt lifted under my arms while a long-legged rubber suit slid up my legs. Oh-my Shiva, it was tight and firm. Once my feet were out the bottom, the Supervisory sat me down on the metal table, then pulled the suit up sharply. I fell into the suit with the crotch part feeling like it would cut me in two, pulling up so harshly.

But the Supervisory was not finished. The neck opening was just to my nonexisting breasts as the small hands fitted my arms into rubber sleeves. Oh my Brahma, she bounced me up and down sharply, one, two, three, and I passed out.

When I woke, I was in a chair. The suit compressed my whole body, arms, and legs, but it was agonizingly torturous between my legs. I wanted to try and move, but right now, the pain was the center of my universe, and any energy I may have had was dry. I felt like a discarded wet rag.

A voice, Rita spoke, “Client Daisy, now that you are with us again, I will give you a manicure, pedicure, and haircut. I enjoy this part of the cleansing most, both receiving and giving.”

I felt her working on my hands and legs, but frankly, I was still in a red haze. While she was working, Rita prattled on and on, and it should have annoyed me, but it didn’t. It distracted me, so I listened. It was inconsequential chatter about what she was doing, how the weather was outside, and how she hoped I would like her. She sounded like a beautician doing her job, even enjoying it. A very effective good cop, arsehole cop routine. But what did they want from me? I was reasonably sure that my name was not Daisy Six, although something with a number rang true.

Suddenly, Rita’s tone changed as she informed, “The gloves and stockings will also be a bit tight and difficult to put on just by my me. If you could help, we could do it, else I have to bother Supervising Instructor Maya.” How very clever! A polite request with a threat of rough handling. If she was aware that the debilitant was wearing off, it was better to cooperate. I lifted my hand.

Rita sounded really excited, thanking me. As far as acting the innocent and gullible, BEFTA class, no doubt. The glove was quite tight, and it took us a few minutes for each. The stockings, with toes, were even tighter. I was losing it again but forced myself to concentrate.

Rita spoke, “I need to dress you warmly for the gell to work its way in so that the nightly cleansing can flush your system. Are you able to help a little more? I see you are exhausted, but I must keep you warm.” I nodded.

A pair of tights, then a catsuit, and I felt warm. Another pair of tights, then another warm catsuit, and I felt hot. My legs and arms were already prickling from the compression now; they also burned. I hardly noticed when Rita dressed me into a long corset and tightened my waist, but then I did.

Almost imperceptively, she tightened my waist while she continued to prattle. Surprised, it felt comforting, even enjoyable. The more she drew in my waist, tugging expertly here and there, I felt comforted, even better. What an odd reaction. When Rita stopped and asked if I needed a breather, I shook my head.

Perhaps it was my imaginings as I still only saw vague shapes like through an opaque window, but Rita’s voice sounded excited. Somehow, this felt like body armor and less painful as the burning over my body and the agony between my legs.

Then I felt my shoulders drawn back, and this too was right. Rita drew my shoulder back so that my flat chest was forward and asked if she could go further. I liked this discomfort, this pain. It was comforting, familiar, even arousing. Was I a closet Sadomasochist? Who embarrassing. I wanted more.

The dichotomy between the pain and heat and the constriction and body shaping sent me into a fugue state where I was unsure of anything. The only real thing seemed Rita prattling on how she enjoyed being my companion and that I liked the lacing as she did...

“Are you alright, Resident Daisy? Did I tighten your waist and pull back your shoulders too much?” The anxiety in Rita’s voice was genuine. Was she really that young, innocent, and gullible? It could not be as then; this all would not make sense. Now I became anxious, then a memory pooped into my head, “Just play nice with the others. No antics, Mouse.”

I felt my face held by two smallish hands and a soft voice beside my ear, offering, “I can loosen it a bit, but I have to do it now before Supervisory Companion Maya arrives.” I shook my head. Reluctantly the small rubber-gloved hands glided over my cheeks, leaving a distinct flowery smell.

Rita continued in her normal voice, “Soon, you will regain your strength, so before that, I need to secure your arms. Do you know what a reverse prayer position is? Well, it is like the yoga pose, but I have to work your arms up until your forearms are along your spine, your elbows together, and your hands are flat on your neck. This is the most unpleasant of all, sorry. I understand if you do not help me.” Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, and fuck.

With my shoulder bent back, I could almost bring my elbows together with Rita’s help. She secured my arms with corset straps, gently pulling my arms up and up. I winced, and she stopped, but I shook my head. Rita did not continue, and I could not speak. I looked at where I thought Rita’s eyes were, then at where I thought the door was, then back at her just beside and behind me.

Rita bent in and whispered, “Your arms will remain like this for a long time. I do not want to hurt you too much.” I shook my head again, then heard her sigh, and Rita massage my over-compressed and arched shoulders. When my middle fingers reached the protruding C7 vertebra, Rita stopped pulling my arms up then fastened my wrists and elbows onto the corset. As the final part, she tightened a pair of straps under my upper arms, drawing my arms higher, so I checked out.

I woke to the harsh woman’s voice warning Rita, “... not matter if Client Daisy Six cooperates or not. You have a minimum standard to reach, and all else is irrelevant Trainee Companion Rita.”

Rita responded quietly, “Please check if I have reached the standard, Supervisory Companion Maya.”

I felt the harsh hands handling me roughly, tugging here and there, then pushing me back on the table. Then a deep intake of breath, exhale, inhale, and Maya spoke, “Alright, Rita. Have it your way. But you have just made it harder for your Client with your attitude. She can hear me, so she will know it is your fault when you insert the size G comforter. See if she also cooperates when you squeeze her into an additional, tight rubber suit under the boiler suit. Now, shave her head clean and get on with it.” SLAM.

Rita came over to the table and looked down at me. She confirmed, “You heard that; I am sorry. It is my fault that I will cause you greater discomfort. I will wheel you over to the chair for your haircut. If I wash and massage your hair first, will it make it a little better?”

I wanted to say something, but my tongue and voice box did not work. What have they done to it? I nodded my head and tried to sit up, but with my hands behind my back, I needed help. Rita rushed to me, helped me up, and guided me to the barber-like chair. She tied an apron around my neck then wheeled the chair over to a basin where she washed my hair three times. If Rita was acting, it was way beyond Academy Awards on a level with a Noel Prize.

I slept through the cutting, shaving, and drawing over of a rubber hood with eye, nose, and mouth openings, but Rita wakened me with, “You are at best a C or D mouth size, but Supervisory Maya has given me a G. I need to use a jaw spreader, and it will hurt. I am ever so sorry. I opened my mouth wide, but my lips only parted. With this abuse, I obviously felt weak, but there was more. Were they using some type of drug on me too?

Rita inserted a sort of gell tooth protector on my upper teeth and another on my lower, which depressed my tongue flatly, and the extension protruded into my throat and irritated it. I wanted to cough, but I could not. Once both were in firmly and securely, Rita inserted the jaw spreader, and I gave over, not really able to do anything else. Once she had my mouth wide open, she inserted a wedge that pried my jaws further apart. Rached, push, rachet, push, rachet, and my lights went out.

“Daisy, Daisy, I mean client Daisy, are you alright,” brought me back, and I nodded, although I would have preferred to sleep or, better still, die. Was there no end to this?

Rita continued, “We are almost finished! I will draw over your hood, put on your custom toe boots, then the boiler suit, and I will make you comfortable on the Gurney.” I nodded, and she drew on a slick tight hood over the first, and the lights went out. This hood only had breathing holes which Rita positioned for a reasonable airflow.

Rita apologized when I had the first armless boiler suit on. Maya had prepared two, so I also helped her put this on me. I was dying of heat, exhaustion, and my brain in a frying pan. Of course, the boiler suits had a loose hood, which she pulled over and carefully positioned once I sat on the Gurney. Rita helped me lie down, half on the side because of my arms, fluffed two pillows, and totally unnecessarily covered me with a blanket, but I was absent and no longer voting...

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