Kopfmeister

This story is a work fiction and readers are strongly encouraged not to attempt the activities listed herein without the necessary understanding of the risks and dangers inherent to said actions. The vacuum cleaner had almost completed it’s task of removing the air from between the sheets of the vac bed. Subtle in its ability to confine her in its grasp, a vac bed is intractable. Every square metre is held in place by the ocean of air we live in and tonnes of pressure compressed the thick latex to her naked flesh as tightly as her own skin. There was to be no escape. ...

The silence grew steadily closer as she fell into the sound of her own breathing. Her breathing and the blood coursing through her head were the only sounds she could hear. Blindfolded and with the air tube in her mouth as a gag, she was mute and lay in the wonderful, terrifying and thrilling darkness. The latex skin of the vac-bed covering her nose prevented all but the heavenly hint of latex in her nostrils. Chloe had grown to love two things: the sensual feel of latex as it caressed her skin, and sensory deprivation games of all sorts. The vac-bed offered the perfect combination of the two. Not that all of her senses were depriving her of stimulation; her sense of touch was most certainly working very well. The vibrating intruders in both her front and rear passages were causing sensations that he was powerless to control and she wasn’t sure whether she would have wished it any other way. ...