Chapter 19
The Pipes
I woke up near noon. I smiled broadly as memories of last night came flooding back, and I stretched languorously in the bed, only to realize I was still wearing the transparent catsuit. Oh god… how did I ever live without it? And because of the chiller, I hadn’t sweated at all during the night, it was very comfortable…
I briefly considered keeping it on till Monday but… I knew too much latex wearing would cause rashes and such, and those were easier to prevent than cure. I began trying to take it off, but stopped. The neck entry meant there were no zippers on the torso, but it also meant removing the suit was a bit tricky. I probably could take it off without incident, but why risk it? Why not take a quick trip to the Institute? It would take 30-40 minutes, and I hadn’t been there on a Sunday yet…
I prepared myself a quick breakfast and texted Renee my intentions – I didn’t see the point in a “surprise” inspection at this point – and headed to the institute. As usual, Renee greeted me at the back door. Today she was wearing capri-length black leggings and a high collared, short sleeved blue top – all latex, of course. I took a deep breath – already I was going to have to use Dr Reed’s “arousal dodging” hypnotic trick.
“Hey Renee – a little more casual today?” I said as greetings.
“Oh yes, I take it easy on Sundays, the day of rest and all that” she replied.
“But you’re still here?” I inquired.
“Oh, this isn’t just a job, it’s a life” she replied “the patients are always there, after all. But you’re here too, you aren’t paid weekends, are you?”
“Oh no, 37.5 hours a week and not a drop of overtime money! But I forgot my catsuit, and it doesn’t have a zipper in the front or back, so I had to come here to get it removed” I said, somewhat sheepishly.
Renee laughed “Ah, you should have taken it off in the shower, it makes it far easier – but what is done is done.”
As we entered, I noticed that the place seemed… quiet. I saw fewer sisters, there seemed to be a lot less activity. “Are they all in classes or something?” I asked.
"As I said, the day of rest - they take it seriously here. A lot of patients spend the day in bondage, meditation, that sort of stuff. There aren’t any latex laundry or repairs, no cleaning, next to no cooking, no classes… Come, let me show you.”
We stayed on the ground floor and headed to the east wing, in the “bondage dormitory”. This is where the patients who weren’t cubed anymore but still “stuck” mentally in a permanent bondage usually were kept. But today the place was full. I knew there weren’t so many patients in this condition, and deduced the others were here… recreationally. There were a fair number of moans and groans, and I had to take another moment to re-center myself.
Renee said in a quiet voice “For example, you may not recognize her, but this is River”. She pointed to a black form lying on a bed. Her arms and legs seemed… odd, too thick and too short. “She’s wearing a special bondage suit that folds her arms and legs. Some use such suits to walk on their knees and elbows as a sort of “rubber pet”, but in her case, this is how River was kept in the gel. Her face was covered in a smooth, featureless black hood, save for her long ponytail sticking out. The figure occasionally twitched and moaned.
“It doesn’t look much like her day-to-day outfit – I mean, the heavy latex, the hair, yes, but the feel of it is very different.” I replied in an equally quiet voice.
“Indeed – in fact, in a way this is not River – this is the person underneath it, patient 87 kidnapped by the Baron,” replied Renee.
“So, when River said that she is a shell made of hypnotic programming and latex… this is who she is underneath?”
Renee nodded somberly “The conditioning and programming of the Baron was so extreme that, in a way, a portion of River, or should I say patient 87, remains “stuck” in the cube. Furthermore, in some cases the patients are very… protective of their inner selves. I’m not sure River will ever move beyond this point.”
I looked at my friend… I almost wanted to touch her, to tell her it was going to be ok, but … no that was too intimate a contact, I shouldn’t do it without River’s permission.
Elizabeth, aka patient 68, got up from a tall stool and walked towards us. I still had a hard time getting over what had been done to her. Her appearance was stunning – slender but well toned, in a black catsuit, a severe corset paired with an equally imposing posture collar that covered the bottom portion of her face, knee-high ballet boots… all very sexy, until one realized that she had no arms - the Baron had them removed for some messed up reasons… but I shouldn’t focus on that.
“Hey Judith, I didn’t think you would be here on a Sunday, what brings you here?” she asked. Her blond hair was in an elaborate braid curled around her head.
“Oh, I forgot to take the catsuit off last night. I was a bit worried about breaking it, so I came here for help to remove it, and now Renee is showing me what goes on today” I replied.
“I see. Well, I’m playing a glorified hall monitor – can’t have all these people in bondage with no one keeping an eye on them. Renee, I’ve got it from here.” The tall black woman smiled and walked away.
“Ok, you have got to see this,” she said playfully, and I followed as she sashayed her way to the end of the room.
There was a large metal frame and suspended from it with dozens of steel cables attached to various straps, was a tall figure in a transparent blue latex catsuit, her face covered with a black hood. She was suspended in a dramatic pose – as if she had been frozen in mid air in leaping pirouette, and that at any moment now, she would complete her dramatic leap.
“Is that… Alexandra?” I asked
“Isn’t she beautiful?” replied Elizabeth. “The Baron kept her like that – in a very large gel cube. It’s one of the reasons why Dr Reed picked her as one of the first patients to come out, the gel-cubing process was very onerous as you can imagine. She spent about 18 years in this state. She once told me that it was a frozen moment – she basically remembers being in mid jump, in mid orgasm, in a frozen moment of time.
“So… no time dilation?” I asked.
“Not exactly – for a few patients like Alexandra, the time spent in the gel was… not extended, but frozen. It felt both like five seconds and an eternity, stuck in this *perfect* moment.” She spends six hours like this every Sunday. Because it’s a relatively short period of time, the gel wasn’t required, just this network of support – it took some time before the setup was just right. She still is getting the full hypnotic conditioning though,” explained Elizabeth.
I looked in awe at her form – it almost seemed like she was made of glass. The illusion was somewhat marred by her occasional tremors and moans of ecstasy… “It’s… hard to wrap my head around it,” I said, “On one hand what the Baron did was very wrong, but on the other hand… I can almost sense her happiness from here. How do I square that?”
“I’ve been asking myself similar questions for years now,” Elizabeth replied, “I don’t think there are any easy answers.”
Elizabeth had been treated particularly harshly by the Baron, and I imagined she perhaps had mixed feelings about her situation. We kept slowly walking around the room.
“Another ah, interesting one” said Elizabeth quietly.
The patient she was pointing out to me was lying on a cot, covered head to toe in a cream-coloured bondage bag and hood, with dark red trim. “Hey… aren’t those the colours Dr Reed wears?” I exclaimed.
“A point for Inspector Judith!” replied Elizabeth wryly.
Dr Reed’s form was secured to the bed with a few straps – probably to ensure she didn’t fall off or something. The only visible openings were two small nostril holes and one round mouth opening. From time to time she would groan and trash about, at other times she would stick her tongue out quite far, as if she was seeking to … probe her environment?
“What is Dr Reed doing here, she isn’t a patient. Is it… recreational?” I asked hesitantly.
“Not really,” replied Elizabeth. “Dr Reed has spent countless hours listening to hypno tapes, transcribing them, rewriting and tweaking them, talking with patients about them… it’s a lot. She told me that these sessions are a way for her to “get it out” of her head, so to speak. She works so hard, I worry about her sometimes.”
This was a side of Dr Reed I hadn’t even realized existed. Sure she wore latex, but … I had sort of assumed it was for the patients. Her sexuality was really muted; she didn’t have Renee’s bombshell sensuality for example. At the dances she participated, but in a somewhat reserved, reluctant way. To see her here on the table, face hidden, bound, twitching, growling, her head and tongue lashing about… My job was to look after the patients, but who was looking after the staff? And if, God forbid, something was to happen to Dr Reed or even Renee, what then? There wasn’t enough redundancy. Again, my uncle’s plans of cutting funds seemed very ill-advised. Perhaps an issue I should discuss with my boss?
I shook my head and tore myself away from the spectacle. “And in this corner, we have the cuddle pit,” said Elizabeth with a hint of amusement in her voice.
The “pit” appeared to be a simple inflatable pool, filled with an inch or so of a thick liquid – lube? – set on top of a large tarp. Within it, half a dozen or so patients wiggled around, blindly holding, groping, caressing each other. They were all dressed in featureless black latex catsuits, with hoods, gloves and socks. Not a speck of skin was visible. It was hard to tell where one body ended, and another began. Low moans, gasps, the occasional giggle and the sound of slick latex-covered skin slip and sliding filled the air.
“That’s… interesting,” I said tentatively. “A bit less bondage, a lot more sensuality. Who’s in there anyway, I can’t tell who’s who?”
“I’m not quite sure either,” replied Elizabeth, “the roster changes every week. It’s part of the point really – the anonymity. The very basic costumes show how… elemental… the activity is. I suspect it’s probably the dressers and some of the laundry staff, they are frequent users. They don’t know themselves who else is in there – it’s just constant touching. The lube can be a pain though; we can’t let it get on the floor or it’s a slipping hazard.”
“I must admit it does look kind of fun… although I have to admit I was counting on the dressers to help me remove my catsuit…” I trailed off, hoping Elizabeth would offer a solution.
“Oh, just ask Renee, she knows what to do. I would give you a hand but… you know,” replied Elizabeth.
I blinked – the mention of Renee had sent my mind going, but then the morbid joke had snapped me out of it. Changing the subject, I said “I see Amber in the corner – I understand she’s like this most of the time though?”
Elizabeth nodded “we are still figuring out the next step for her; you’ve achieved quite the breakthrough. She’s interested in returning to the gel, but that’s a lot of work. Maybe we could try a vacbed periodically? That’s sort of like being stuck in amber too.”
“Oh! I’ve seen those online – I’ve been doing research. You have them here? They look pretty intense! I do see how they could appeal to her, I could talk to her about it,” I replied.
We spoke a few more minutes… mostly gossip, but it was time for me to go. If I was being honest, I was delaying – the notion of Renee helping me undress was a bit daunting. I found her in her office, working on some paperwork.
“Ah Judith, I’m glad you’re here, I need a break from this infernal accounting. If we had the budget, I would so hire an accountant!” she exclaimed.
“Perhaps consult with Michelle – Nadia’s sister, patient 111? She’s in finance, she might have a solution?” I said tentatively.
She nodded, wrote a note on her phone and then said, “So what brings you here?” she added.
“Oh uh…” I tried furiously not to blush and didn’t do a great job of it. “It’s ah, as I mentioned, I came here for help to remove the catsuit, and Elizabeth told me the dressers are, ah, otherwise occupied”. I thought again of the rubbery lube pit and blushed even further. “She said you could help?” I asked in a squeaky voice.
“Gladly! Let’s show you how it’s done! Follow me…” We headed towards the gym in the east wing, as Renee explained “As you know, we don’t really use showers here but there are a few ones besides the gym that see occasional use, we’ll use those.”
We arrived in the gym’s shower rooms, covered in yellowing tiles. Renee kicked off her heels and headed into one of the shower stalls “Let me turn on the water so it has time to heat up a bit…Why aren’t you removing your clothes?”
I blushed a bit and followed her suggestion – and then blushed far more when I realized she intended to step with me in the shower to help. “I’ll show you how to do it, with the water from the shower it will be easy.” Seeing my wide eyes she continued “oh don’t worry about me, I’m wearing latex remember, I don’t care if I get a bit wet!”
I gulped and nodded.
We stepped in the shower; the small tiles feeling cool under my feet. The water was warm. Renee stood to one side, pointed and I stepped under the water stream. She stepped closer to me – even without heels, she was a good 4-5 inches taller than I was. There was a gleam in her eye and a faint smirk on her lip (was I imaging things?) and then stepped behind me.
“First, we have to let water in the catsuit,” she explained as she stepped closer to me and put her hands on my shoulders and then grabbed the collar of the suit, stretching it open quite wide, letting the water in. I could feel the water trickling in, separating the latex from my skin. “Then, bend your arm like this, and we stretch the collar over the elbow… there. And with a bit more pulling, tada, your arm is free.”
“Oh!” I could feel her body almost, but not quite, pressing against me. “Wow uh… Impressive how much that neck collar can stretch,” I added, trying to pretend I wasn’t wildly turned on by the situation.
“Now the other arm” she said gently – I could feel her breath against the back of my neck, and I shivered despite the warmth. Once both arms were free, it was relatively easy for Renee to pull the suit down the rest of the way.
I thought we were done, but Renee had other ideas. “And now for a quick wash!”
I protested but she shushed me “Nonsense, you can’t wash your back by yourself, and you’ve been in this suit for a while, you need this.” She grabbed a nearby sponge, lathered in soap, and began washing my naked form.
What I needed was to disappear, as my body betrayed my state of arousal – or for Renee to grab me by the waist and kiss me forcefully – but neither happened. “Thank you” I managed to blurt out. I was so embarrassed, I couldn’t blame the cold for my erect nipples.
“Wow, that visit in the bondage dorm really affected you, didn’t it?” said Renee.
Is she humoring me, or hasn’t she realized that I was so aroused because of her? Whatever, I jumped at the lifeline. “Oh yes, it was… quite the display. Very powerful, especially when it’s done willingly. I hadn’t really considered that fully…”
She gave me an ambiguous look. “You know… you could try it if you wanted. Nothing crazy or too intense of course, but an afternoon in a latex sleepsack and an eyeless hood is quite the nice way to, ah, relax. Great for stress, I sometimes do it too.”
I froze, and it took all of my willpower to keep a straight face. “Oh, uh, I … uh…” oh god I wanted to do it so bad… but no, I needed to think more about it. “It does sound… appealing… but not today, I have errands to run,” I concluded lamely.
She smiled and my knees felt a bit wobbly. We were still in the shower, quite close. I was keenly aware of her sensuality, her strength… “Let’s get you dried up and on your way then” she said with a smirk.
Immensely relieved and yet disappointed, I nodded and stepped out. She handed me a towel and said she would take my catsuit to the laundry pile. “Will you be here tomorrow?” she asked, and I nodded.
Ooof, what a day!
After I was done drying and dressing, I bid my goodbyes and stepped out of the Institute. As I headed towards my car, I realized that there were still a few hours of daylight left. This would be a great opportunity to check out that building that the pipes seemed to be pointing towards. Finally I would find that “secret” that Spyder had been hinting at. With my phone fully charged and wearing my gator jacket – silly perhaps but the solid boots and light armor could come in handy – I headed into the woods, following the faint trail left by the burial of the pipes.
After a few dozen meters the vegetation had fully covered the trail, but I decided to press on. A lot of leaves had fallen at this time of year so I could see the sun relatively well, and I kept heading east, hoping to find the building I had seen on the satellite image. I then ran into another trail heading in the same direction – far clearer, dirt with a bit of gravel. I could still see footprints – a high heel boot with a chunky heel, as well as what looked like the track left by a tire – did someone on a motorcycle use the trail?
I decided to follow this train west, back towards the convent, to see where it started (I assumed it would end at the mystery building). Within a few minutes, I was back at the parking lot. The start of the trail had been cleverly hidden – unless someone was looking for it, it would have been very easy to miss. What was going on? I headed back into the woods, determined to find answers. This new trail was far easier to follow, and after not very long I finally saw the building.
It wasn’t a recent construction, but it clearly had been built at a later date than the convent. It was single story, made of cinder blocks, with a corrugated metal roof. I saw a few small windows, a metal chimney. My eyes were immediately drawn to the pipes coming out of the ground and entering the building’s side– it seemed that it had been built to house whatever was going on at the end of said pipes.
The wooden door was slightly ajar, paint flaking. I could hear someone moving about, as well as faint music. I stepped forward, took a glance backward to make sure nothing was blocking me should I need to run, and knocked.
“Come in!” was the reply. The voice was … strange. Definitely male, but with an odd high pitch to it and a strange tinny sound, almost a rattle – as if the person was speaking through a cheap speaker. I squared my shoulders and pushed the door in.
The place was some kind of workshop – the pipes lead to a large tank festooned with pipes and dials; it wasn’t immediately apparent what its purpose was. Then a strange figure stepped out from behind it, startling me. He (?) was wearing a very thick all over suit made of brownish rubber. It looked very tough but heavy and… cheap? Was it made of molder rubber? The face was completely hidden behind a gas mask built into a sort of squarish hood. It looked very industrial, heavy and uncomfortable. What was he doing that required such protective gear? Another startling detail was the metal cuff around his left foot, tied to a chain attached to a metal sphere – he was literally wearing a ball and chain!
“Ah,” the figure said, “The Inspector I have heard so much about! Pleased to make your acquaintance. Are you here to inspect my humble abode?”
He was short and stout, although it was hard to tell for sure with that thick, loose suit on. “Ah, yes. I am Inspector Johnson, from the federal Department of Health. I’m replacing the old inspector as his health doesn’t permit him to continue. But, erm, who are you?”
“They didn’t tell you about me? I supposed they wouldn’t have; a bit of embarrassment, I am. You can call me Boilerman,” he replied in his strange metallic voice. I later learned that his suit had a built in “voice projector”, based on an old Russian design, resulting in his distorted voice.
“And ah, what is that you do here? What is the purpose of this building?” I asked.
“An excellent question. You are familiar with the gel cube bondage process, yes?” As I nodded, he continued. “This is a reprocessing facility. As you know, once a patient is removed from the gel, a chemical solution is used to rapidly liquify the gel. The liquid is pumped via a pipe to here. This device here processes the liquid and removes the liquifying salts. It is then pumped back to the main building, where it can be re-used and returned to gel form with the use of UV light. I operate the machinery. Also, I live here.”
I glanced around - The machinery took up most of the room, but in corners I could see a small table, the radio on a shelf (playing some Britney Spears of all things), a few old books, some basic cooking gear… someone was living here. “So… how did you end up here? And why the chain?”
“Ah, you see, I was an associate of the Baron. When this place was discovered by the authorities, McGraw was killed and Dr Mood shot himself. The Baron wasn’t here, of course, I was the only one left of the, ah, staff,” he replied.
“What? Shouldn’t you be in jail!?” I retorted heatedly. He was part of this! He had assisted the Baron pursue his evil demented bondage operation.
“I can see why you fell that way Inspector,” he replied, “but in the early days I was the only one who knew how to operate the machinery. I was allowed to stay for a while because no one else knew how to take care of the patients. A few died before they finally listened to my repeated offers of help. The chain is because I wasn’t trusted of course. But with time, the temporary arrangement just… continued. The others learned how to operate the Institute, and now I operate this equipment. As far as not being in jail… I was never charged with anything, but as you can see, I am a prisoner – a willing one I should add. I know what I did was wrong.
“The Baron knew I was obsessed with rubber, and I couldn’t pass up his offer to be a part of his grand scheme. I was blinded by my desires. Sometimes I wished the Baron would fully commit, and rubberize the entire world… Yes, I know it was wrong. But I didn’t care. But… this is better. The patients are free, mostly, and I serve them as my penance.”
This was astounding. “So, you know who the Baron is?”
“Of course. And of course I will not tell you,” he replied.
“You are protecting him even today?” I snapped back.
“Oh, I am not protecting him, I am protecting myself, and others”. Seeing my incredulous look, he elaborated. “The Baron has vast resources and can easily have someone killed. He would have you assassinated without hesitation to protect his secrets. By not telling you, I am protecting you. He also did not tolerate betrayal. Your death would be quick, professional. But someone betraying him? My death would be extremely unpleasant AND he would also kill others I care about. No, I cannot and must not tell you who the Baron was. It would be far too dangerous. Too high a price for justice. Perhaps one day, after he passes away…” he concluded.
I gritted my teeth. I wanted to call him a coward, but if his family was also at risk… and he had let it slip that the Baron was still alive.
He continued. “As you can imagine, the authorities were not pleased with my refusal to talk. But once patients started dying due to improper care and they needed my help… an awkward situation, I am the first to admit. This is why I am in this legal limbo I suppose. Cursed for my evil deeds, but… not quite redeemed, but tolerated perhaps, due to my actions to protect the patients.
I frowned. “I suppose I must concede it probably was a very messy situation at first.”
“Oh, it was terrible. They cut a patient out of the gel, and she went into such a severe shock that she died. So they stopped doing that… but then the patients in the cube started declining because the feeding tanks were running empty. They had no idea what to do with the drones. I think several more would have died before they figured it out,” he replied. “Today the sisters are taking care of themselves, but it didn’t happen automatically.”
“So… now you just stay here and process fluids?”
“That is correct,” he replied. “Although there is not as much work as there used to be, but I’m not getting any younger either. So I listen to the radio. I once asked for a deck of cards, but as you can see, my fingers aren’t quite up to it.” He held up his thickly gloved hands to illustrate. “I don’t think I’ve left this building in over five years,” he added.
“But what do you eat? And surely you can’t wear this suit 24/7?”
“I see why you are the inspector!” the strange figure retorted. “Some of the sisters come by to bring food and let me out for hygiene purposes – once a week one comes with a wheelbarrow to bring me supplies and clean suits. There is an outhouse in the back, and a little shower… not pleasant during the winter, but one adapts.”
I took another look at the place. I saw some spares of his strange heavy suit, flipped inside out, probably after washing, hanging on a rack in the back. There was a side room, closed off with a curtain, the bedroom perhaps? I then noted something… what was that? I stepped forward and took a closer look – the room contained a cot, a small nightstand and a strange chair, made of metal, with a few padded areas and … cuffs? And what was that? It looked like some kind of hank-cranked fucking machine?!
I turned back “What is this…” the words choked in my mouth. Boilerman had moved, he was now between me and the exit!
“I can explain,” he began, but I wasn’t really listening – I squared my shoulders and got ready to fight – he had weight on me, but he would be clumsy with the heavy suit and chain, perhaps I could out-feint him?
He must have noticed my body language, as he suddenly raised his hands and took a few steps back. “Inspector, I mean you no harm I assure you! Please let me explain!”
I nodded cautiously, still tense – he had stepped out of the way, and I was confident I could make a run for it if he tried anything.
“A few of the sisters who visit me have… needs. I provide them with, ah, a type of recreation that isn’t available to them at the Institute,” he explained. Seeing my incredulous look, he added “I am not much of a specimen, but some of the sisters are, ah, interested.”
I knew a good portion of the patients had a very high sex drive, and I could totally imagine them enjoying being bound to a chair and fucked senseless with a machine. But it seemed ludicrous that they would want to do that with him. But how could he coerce them? This didn’t make sense to me.
“I will have to confirm your story” I said tersely.
“Of course Inspector, ‘trust but verify’ is the saying?”
I nodded sharply, then left without further words. I hurried back to the parking lot, looking over my shoulder frequently. Boilerman stood in the doorsill but did not pursue. What a bizarre situation.
I got in my car and drove home, my mind swirling with questions. I recalled Spyder’s words about the place having secrets – how many were there?