Back to School by MonsterP63
A lovely little, but rather quite kinky, back-to-school story by MonsterP63.
Back to School
Her voice was carried to the speaker located over the blackboard through the microphone embedded in her gasmask, otherwise everybody would have heard nothing more than a low pitch mumbling.
He was leaning sideways to have a better view of what was in front of the class: the perfect butt, perfectly encased in perfectly tight latex, locked in by a steel chastity belt. He liked how the harsh lights of the classroom reflected on her firm behind, giving an indication of how thick and especially how tight her latex skin was. Each of her movements, every sounds she made raised his interests. He knew she was permanently encased like that, sealed in perfect shiny rubber.
She turned around while she continued explaining the formula.
“As you can see, a few… Err… Enjoying the view, Pete?″
″Absolutely, Miss Karen. Absolutely.″ he said, giggling. ″We all do!″ he said, the class mumbling in agreement.
″Very well then. As I was saying, a few items, like the number of accessible release keys or methods, which could be a safety knife, a timed box, or the coverage of latex can greatly affect the final Orgasmic Power… Yes, Pete?”
“Yes, Miss Karen, about the uppercase T there, meaning tightness and thickness. Isn’t that a little bit confusing?”
“Not really, Pete,″ she said, getting closer, her extremely tight leather corset creaking along. She knew he was thriving to have a closer look at her latex clad body. ″A thin latex catsuit, for example, can be very thin, which, at the same time, would not feel very tight. So a 0.2mm will not add much. However, a 1mm like the one I’m wearing feels definitely tighter than the same size 0.2mm… ″
″… Err… sorry… “ she said, cutting short her answer and walking to the desk of a woman sitting in the front corner, looking at her phone. She was apparently oblivious to the creaking sounds of latex and high heel clicking and the Vader-like breathing sound getting closer to her
“Excuse-me. Are we… disturbing you… I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name. It’s the first time I see you here.”
She was the only one in plain vanilla clothes. The rest of the class were in PVC, latex, spandex, high heels, leather and the likes. But it didn’t bothered Karen in the first place because everybody is entitled to it’s privacy. Maybe underneath her vanilla clothes, she was… well equipped.
“It’s Lynda… Yeah, whatever, just go on.”
“No, I won’t go on, Lynda” said Karen, sternly, this time wondering what this vanilla-looking woman was doing in her class. “What the fuck are you doing in my class? Give me your phone.”
The woman raised her head to see that everybody in the class was staring at her. She seemed surprised, then looked at Karen.
“Hell no!” she said pulling it away from Karen’s extended hand. “I thought this class would be interesting, about how to make love, but all this… this… rubber and that fucking math is just a bunch of nonsense with a group of weirdos.”
By this time, the class had gathered around her.
″The class is called Discover the orgasmic power of the kinky side, given by one of the most recognized expert in that field, and you thought it was about plain making love?″ asked Annie.
″Who’s the expert? Her?″ asked Lynda, pointing at Karen.
″You don’t know Karen?″ asked Sandra in disbelief.
″Should I?″ answered Lynda.
The class mumbled in a stunned expression.
Helped by her sudden distraction, in a swift move, Annie grabbed her phone. Perhaps she was spying on them, trying to gather proofs of misconduct or something, of for proofs for an anti-kinky protest. Anything can happen on a University Campus.
″Hey! That’s mine!″ said Lynda.
“Not right now,″ said Annie. ″What the fuck? Are you so bored that you are shopping on Temu?”
“None of your business. Give me that back! You’re just a bunch of weirdos anyway. I was just waiting for the right moment to leave. This is it. I’m out of here.”
“Wait a minute,” said Karen while the group prevented her from leaving. “Why are we… weirdos?”
“Come on. Seriously? Like… the latex and the restriction and… the toys? Come on. What kind of fucked up formula is that?”
“Well,” calmly said Karen, “we are at the point where we need a volunteer to test the formula and you did pay… for it. Would you care?”
“Yes, yes!” said the group. “Take her as the test subject.”
“No fucking way. Let me go.”
“Not so fast, Lynda,″ firmly said Karen, blocking her way out.
“No, you won’t have me as a guinea pig. Let me go. You are detaining me against my will.”
“Yeah, right. Think about it, Lynda,” said Karen with a friendlier tone. “What do you have to lose? If it’s really weirdo’s stuff, you will get out of here confirming your thoughts. If on the other hand, it’s real, you’ll get out of here with new knowledge. It’s a win-sin situation and you already paid for that when you registered for the course.”
“I… I don’t know… “she said, not sure.
“Do you like purple?” asked Karen. “Of course you do. Come with me…”
Half an hour later, Lynda was squirming, faint yelps muffled by her gag as the toys gave her one good ride, as she was totally unable to get away from them. She could feel the tightness of the latex catsuit and the restriction, not allowing her much room to move.
She slowly moved her feet, or tried to, locked as they were in those extreme boots. She never thought that just wearing boots like that, feeling their weight, feeling her feet forced into this stretched position would be arousing, even less the extremely tight catsuit, obviously too small for her, that necessitated three of them to get her inside the neck-entry garment.
Also, being almost deaf, thanks to the earplugs + latex layer + the straps of the blindfold going over her ears, and with said blindfold being unable to see, knowing that she had no way out by herself made her appreciate the toys even more. Even the forced orgasm she felt was coming. Then again, was it really forced?
“Okay class, last item before we compute all this. Little t is the time. How long should she stay there? One, two… Sandra, you’re showing five! Five minutes? Hours? Days???….”
(c) monsterp63
July 2025
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| Word count | 1187 |
| Reading time | 8 minutes |
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