Brenda woke in a constricted fit of terror - that dream, those images filling her mind. It wasn't really a 'dream' at all, it was a nightmare – except that it wasn't that either; nightmares by their very definition usually happened at nights; this thing, this 'mare' could happen any time. Not a nightmare, not a daydream, but a 'dream-mare'. It was still dark and it had been her natural instinct after that dream-mare to re-engage her foetal position, maybe even cuddle into the latex padding that was part of that cell. The thought that she could maybe 'embrace' what she had been thrown into cannot have been one inside her head right at this time and yet, who could tell what form of mush her mind was now in? It was because it was still dark that she tried to slip her finger between her legs again. She needed another orgasm – she needed an orgasm badly. That dream, that dream-mare had scared the shit out of her and with her waking came the re-realisation of where she was and why she was there. It was right at that moment, that exact moment that she wanted to tickle the tip of her clitoris that she realised that she couldn't. She tried to move what she thought was an arm – nothing! It was ok, maybe that was the arm that had been under her – then she tried to move her other arm – nothing! The more awake she became, the more aware she became that she could not move at all, and that rubber, or latex was compressed right around her. Her head buzzed, but it also felt like it 'floated'. The dream had sent her into panic orbit, but the waking up from that hell was realisation that she was in a deeper hell. She tried to open her eyes because even in the darkness of that cell with the light turned off she had been able to open her eyes to 'try' to look around. At least she was free to let any tricks of the light, or lack of the light, do their stuff. She tried to open her eyes – nothing! She actually didn't know if her eyes were open or not. All she could see was pitch blackness, but as well as that, there was a pressure on her eyes. A distinct pressure that was applied equally over both eyeballs. And that was it – It was like her eyes were not closed at all but open. It was like they had been peeled open and then somehow, with something, this pressure applied directly to her eyeballs. It wasn't a painful pressure, it was just a pressure that was there. A pressure that she had to adapt to. She could hear her heart beating. It was beating fast, like it was trying to get out of her chest, but couldn't. She was just waking up, or she thought she was, so maybe moving, seeing, feeling was just not coming back to her just yet. She tried to move her legs, first one then the other – nothing! She knew they were there, she knew that. She didn't know why she knew it, she just did. She had the weirdest sensation that her legs were doubled up – somehow doubled up and that her ankles had been brought up behind her thighs, and fixed there. Where her knees were, or should have been there was another definite pressure applied. But there was no pain, or even discomfort just the simple inability to move, or even twitch one of her leg muscles in any direction. She thought in her mind that she should wriggle her toes – indeed in her mind she did wriggle her toes. But those thought processes did not make it to her toes. Or they did – those little electrical impulses did make their way all the way to the tips of her toes. But once there – nothing! She consequently thought about trying to wriggle, or curl her other extremities, her fingers but this time the disorientation was magnified. She couldn't sense what position she was in – lying, sitting, standing, kneeling – there were no reference points in the blackness – nothing for her to focus on. Her mind, what was left of it did send the electrical impulses to her finger tips, she could sense that much, and she did have the feeling that she did still have fingers, but there was nothing no movement. It was about this time that a first spark of panic began to light up in the depths of her mind. She had no movement of her limbs. She tried to twist her torso – at least that was what she tried to do in her mind. She felt her insides moving so she WAS in a reality situation. As she tried to twist she felt her stomach muscles contort and try to twist with her but other than that there was nothing! And that sensation that she could at least a little, move the insides of herself just fed a growing alarm and panic. She tried to twist first one way then the other. Nothing! And with that attempt a better understanding of where her arms and hands were. It felt like they were up behind her, tight. And that slight attempt at moving did cause some discomfort – even a shot of pain which told her that her arms were not in a natural position. It told her that she should probably be concerned. With the growing panic inside her mind, her attempts at moving became more urgent. But that was all that they were, attempts! Urgent yes, but just attempts. The more she tried to move, the harder she breathed and when she did that a deeper understanding began to sink in. The more she tried to breath, or the harder she tried to breath, the less she could actually breath. Then she swallowed, or tried to swallow and that was when she realised that her throat, instead of rolling into a natural swallow, constricted around something that felt thick, solid and hard that had been slid down her throat. Brenda struggling with waking and then discovering little bit by little bit that she didn't have these movements any more, or these senses. It looked even like her natural and instinctive bodily functions had been curtailed. In fairness to Brenda, she would not be able to even with what she had experienced over this time, imagine to what extent any control whatsoever had been taken away from her. Then she realised her mouth was open. It wasn't just open – it was open wide. Her lips felt stretched and her jaws ached, and so when she tried to wriggle her tongue to get a sensation, any sensation at all she then realised that her tongue was compressed to what must have been the bottom of her mouth. She could only try to fathom guesses at exactly where any of her organs, or limbs were at this time. It made sense that her tongue was down low in her mouth, because whatever was going down her throat felt moulded, and secure over the groove of her tongue and then down into her throat. She tried to open her eyes if only to bulge them but that simply increased the pressure over the entire two eyeballs. That felt weird to her – scary! She tried to twist again, but this time she remembered to try not to breath too hard. She twisted, or tried to twist first one way then the other – nothing! It was more frustration than panic that she then tried to suck in a deep deep breath. When she did that her air supply was immediately cut off. If she tried to get more air than was allowed, it was cut off. And when it was cut off she could feel her eyes press against whatever was wrapped and compressed around them. She had to control herself – had to regulate herself. With her breathing cut off, she got a funny, weird sensation in and around her tummy. As a part of that sensation she instinctively squeezed her sexual muscles and inside a mind that had been trying its best to cope with what she was discovering piece by piece she took another turn for the worse. Her vaginal walls were stretched and clinging tightly to something gargantuan and huge inside her. The only way she could discover more about this thing inside was to keep squeezing – try to 'feel' what it was, or how far inside her it went. With another attempt at a twist she felt the blunt, rounded end of the thing nudge against what must have been her cervix, the epicentre of her femininity, and she sucked in another deep breath of air. Or tried to. Nothing – her air supply cut off! She felt her eyes bulge against the compresses against them again. She waited, calmed until her air supply came back, but this time there was a longer wait. Probably only seconds and yet it was clear that with every transgression, such as trying to get more air than she was permitted, she would be 'punished' by having her air supply cut off for longer. Longer increments without air. Somehow, in a mind that was not doing very well at coping with anything right now, she managed to get that message. She managed to understand. She twitched again and began to realise just how much she had been spread open by whatever was inside of her. Inside her mind she began to cry but as she cried she tried to twitch other muscles and then was when she realised that her anus was also stretched and filled with 'something'. The fact was that the more she came around, the more she woke up, the worse it seemed for her. Like when you KNOW something is inside you then you feel it all the time. Whatever was inside her back passage was enormous and her anal walls and muscles clung and chewed on it continually, in the same way that her vaginal muscles and her sexuality constantly sucked and chewed on its alien object. She squeezed her anus in such a way that she felt whatever it was press against her colon and that made her twitch, but she was careful with her breathing. She had been deeply, deeply invaded in both her most intimate places. It was at that point that she twitched her nostrils, remembering again not to suck in, or try to suck in too much air – she had always been proud of how she could twitch and flare her nostrils – one little thing from her life that she had had all to herself, but when she tried that now she found, or felt, or sensed that they were already flared wide. Not just flared wide to their natural limit, but stretched beyond that. At that time then she realised that there were tubes up inside each of her nasal passages. She could feel them up there, and going back into her throat to join that thing that was already in control of her airway. Coming around, waking up and becoming more aware should have been a good thing. It would have been a good thing in any place but this. Then she became aware of the constrictions around her breasts. It wasn't just that her heavy, mature breasts were constricted, but they seemed totally compressed as though they were shrink wrapped and as though they had been enhanced in some way. Brenda began to have a memory or what seemed like a memory. She was vaguely aware of having been woken from her distressed sleep by someone over her – Judy. She hadn't woken, or come back into the world properly, she had just been disturbed, or aware of the older woman over her. The light in the rubber cell had been turned back on so she had had the immediate feeling of panic, and alarm that she was where she was. And then the hypodermic needle being slid with ease, as though it was white hot, into the flesh of her hip. The older woman squatting over her and smiling as she emptied the syringe into her. Smiling, but not saying anything. Just smiling as Brenda's world faded to black once again. Was that a memory, or was it just another of those dream-mares that she had had? With the constriction of her breasts, and the tightness of them, the concentration of pin point pain at a point that must have been her nipple tips. She recognised pain in her nipples because she had received plenty of that in her early years – those years before she had escaped. She recognised the throb in the base of the nipples and then that throb working its way up what must have been her erect teat shafts. She knew they must be erect. Her nipples were always erect when they felt any kind of attention to them. And if there was one thing she was sure of was that her breasts and her nipples in particular had received attention during her time 'out of it'. Her body as well as her mind was beginning to come around from whatever it was that had been in that syringe. She became aware that she was spread wide and yes her legs were doubled up, ankles to thighs – but that the resulting 'stumps' had been spread wide. She became aware of her neck – it seemed stretched, like it had had some kind of collar, or neck corset secured around it because there was a 'squeezing' of her neck and throat. Very gingerly, very carefully she tried to move her head, to see if she could discover more of what her neck was suffering. She had to be careful, couldn't risk pain, or anything that would cause her to suck in air because a third time would mean an even more extended time without air – and with her breathing cut off totally. But there was no movement of her head at all. Further more there was a slight tugging from what must have been the back of her head which confirmed that her head was being held back and being made more rigid with whatever was around her neck. The panic inside her mind was growing and growing. But that was the other thing – her mind, her head. It felt like her head was in a vacuum. She had been isolated in that rubber cell with no sound getting in or out. That had been like a vacuum to but this was different. It was more localised, more focused. It made her feel like she was floating, or that her head was slightly phased out or something. It felt like her head was in some kind of bubble, some kind of 'other space'. And yet that 'other space' was not a cause for concern because it was that floating, that bubble that was like 'helping' her get through this. But she realised also that she was the way she was because in this state she was in – in this state she was in right now, she was more aware than ever, more than aware of the Rubber Hell she was existing within. She could feel it, smell it, taste it. She felt like it was all around her and inside her. It was sex stained, and dripping. She felt like it was in her mind, and massaging the outside of it. She could taste it in her mouth and smell it inside her enforcibly flared and stretched nostrils. The things inside her felt like they were rubber or maybe that was a product of her melting mind. Her head swam in a Latex Nothingness and then, just then there was a noise in her ears. A crackle, like static. But that just brought attention to her ears. They too seemed compressed and the canals stretched and a little filled. If it made any sense she could 'hear' rubber too. It sent her into shivers and shakes but she had to be careful with her breathing. She had to be careful, not too much air – she wasn't entitled to too much air. She would be punished with no air if she tried to take too much. That crackle then, again in her ears. Both ears. Little speakers in her ears springing to life.

“Welcome Back Cunt.”

Brenda's heart missed several beats and then she regulated her breathing. That voice! She recognised that voice and she went into immediate tremors. It was a voice from the past. The distant past. If she could collapse, and pass out she would – but she couldn't do any of that. Her mind, her brain, her very being slid a few turns more down into that spiral, into that vortex.

“Now – where shall I begin?”