Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
The Bath
by Rbrbill
rbrbill@hotmail.com
© Copyright 2009 - Rbrbill - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-m; latex; catsuits; hoods; sbm; F/m; isolation; sd; mast; cons; X
The Bath by Rbrbill Solo-m; latex; catsuits; hoods; sbm; F/m; isolation; sd; mast; cons; X
 

I begin my decent into the world of rubber.  It is a methodical decent of stages.  One layer at a time I add to my sensual arousal.  Each layer tightens the grip of the rubbery skin in which I am enveloped.  For me the journey is as important as the arrival.  The first layer starts out simple enough… a latex brief with attached sheath and pouch.  I pull on a surf suit with a reinforced ring that the sheath and pouch encased jewels slip through with willing ease.  The narrow elastic ring tightens behind my balls, locking the jewels into place. 

I pull on a hood with a long skirt at its shoulders.  The hood has eye, nose and mouth openings.  Before pulling the hood on I slip plugs of shaped silicon into my ears.  I feel the tight rubber hood pushing the plugs into the ear canals and sound muffles. 

Then I ease the rubber tee shirt over the surf suit.  The shirt seals the neck skirt of the hood beneath its rubber neck.  I add a pair of leggings.  The rubber slowly covers my bare legs in its sensual grip.  The tiny latex fingers massage my skin as the obsidian layer transforms my nakedness into dull black.  The latex leggings ultimately lock to my waist, sealing my erect and throbbing tool behind a thin elastic shield.  I pull on gloves and looks at my rubberized body.  The leggings, shirt, gloves and hood completely cover me in a layer of black latex.

This is not enough for the true rubber fanatic.  I pull a second hood over my head and line all of the openings up.  This hood has nose tubes attached and a foam rubber gag that fills and expands inside my mouth.  The gag has a rigid tube that will mate with the drinking system of the respirator and allow me to swallow, with difficulty, life-sustaining water.  These nose tubes ease into my nostrils.  I pull on a well-powdered rubber catsuit.  The second rubbery layer tightens the power the alluring material has over me.  The suit has attached feet and gloves and when I close the front zipper to my neck I feel its wonderful grip seizing my senses.  The open hood of the catsuit covers the second hood to effectively lock it in place.

Two layers aren’t enough for the rubber fanatic looking to be dominated by his rubberization.  My second catsuit is heavier than the first.  This back zip suit provides additional tactile satisfaction as I slide it on.  Unlike the first suit this one has no attached gloves.  After it is in place, I pull a pair of thin gloves on.  Now my hands are sealed in three rubber layers.  I feel the tight rubber squeezing my fingers and closing my finger into a fist is difficult. 

But this is still not enough for the true rubber enthusiast.  To be completely dominated by the power of rubber requires a complete seal from the outside world.  I take up the heavy rubber wader suit.  This suit looks more like a diver’s dry suit with boots.  I work the thick rubber layer over my body.  It is slightly lose to allow movement inside but the restricting wrist seals remind my body of its entrapment.  Added to the tight rubber seals above the attached gauntlets is the heavy respirator mask hanging at my chest.  I pull this piece into position.  I struggle with the straps tightening the inner face plate to my head and pull the heavy rubber outer hood and attached shoulder section over my head. 

The hood neck piece snaps against my throat and I pull at the watertight zipper across the shoulders.  I am closed into the rubber layers once completed.  I look at my rubberized form in a mirror and feel the growing lust of my enclosure.  I work the zipper tongue through the d-ring at the end of its zip and snap the lock shut.  The keys to the lock are in the hands of my mistress.

I snap the elaborate air tubing of rubber and chrome onto the respirator inlet point.  The tubing filters through a filter cartridge filled with old rubber.  I inhale the heavy aroma of my world. 

Mistress instructions were explicit.  I fill the bath with hot water.  The water is as hot as possible.  No cold water is mixed.

I hang a camelback on the robe hook near the bath.  I fit the tube from the camelback to the drinking port in the respirator.  I ease the drinking tube inside the mask to my mouth and test the flow of water.  All works well so I slide into the tub.  The heat from the bath permeates the rubber layers as I settle under the water.  The faceplate of the respirator fogs as the steamy world engulfs me.  I slowly feel the rising heat of my rubber sauna gaining control of my senses.  I drift into a rubberized bliss.  It is as close to an out-of-body experience as I have had.  I feel my mind drifting off to worlds of sensual desire as the hot water presses my layers to my skin. 

The air trapped inside the multiple layers has been expelled ages ago as my mind drifts among the sultry corridors of erotic thoughts.  The mind drifts as the heat, pressing rubber and hot rubber aromatic air fills my senses.  I revel in the mindless pleasure of total relaxation.  One last action seals my fate until Mistress arrives… I lean forward and lock ankle cuffs to my legs and slip my left arm into its binder cuff at my waist and close the hasp.  I slip my right wrist into the cuff on the other side and press against the side of the porcelain tub.  The satisfying click as the lack engages is felt rather than heard.  Now I am completely trapped in the tub as I cannot lever myself out of its watery hold.  This sudden loss of any control of my immediate future sends an erotic surge through my loins.  I thrust against my layers and feel the pre-cum moment change quickly to full arousal and explosive release.  I pump my living seed into the sheath as I tense in the release.  My muscles ache in my bonds as the carnal release surges.  Time slows to a crawl as my rapid inhales suck the mask to my face and my sweat soaked body shudders in sensual ecstasy within my rubbery prison. 

I feel the surge ebb and the sudden tight suffocation of the pressing rubber takes hold.  I panic in the knowledge that I cannot do a thing to release myself from the bondage.  I cannot lift myself from the bath.  I cannot remove any of the layers.  I am here until Mistress arrives.   The five minutes of panic pass and I slowly feel the returning bliss of enclosure blanketing me.  Like a cloak over my body, I drift into sleepy reflection.  How did I reach this point of my life?  Do I go further on the road of rubbery exploration?  What is the final end for this journey?  These are thoughts that drift through the fertile furrows of my mind looking for a place to take seed and grow.

I slip into semi consciousness with the hot bath water heating my rubberized body.  The minutes slip to hours.  The water slowly cools in the tub.  I sip water and my parched throat reminds me that my rubberized exterior is sapping the fluids out of me.  I doze and dreams crowd into the blank slate of my mind.

You think a dream of rubber fantasy would visit the mind.  But the mind is a peculiar place.  Rubber fantasy would most likely result in arousal and full wakening.  The mind is happy in sleep.  I dream strange dreams of driving.  I am driving a car to no where.  The road seems endless.  I feel lost.  I think I know where to go but I can’t quite pin down a destination.  I feel the wind through an open window.  I see scenery and road signs.

My awareness slips into the dream and I jolt awake in my tight rubber.  My heavy breathing whooshes in and out of the tubing.  I am aware of the growing hardness in my loins as my body betrays my animal desires in rubber.  I feel no spontaneous event this time.  The growing urge fills my mind.  I try to find relief through thrusts against the rubber layers and there is none.  I am panting hard into the respirator.  My bindings prevent me from reaching to my crotch and finding relief.  Mistress must have known this would result… that I would be in total frustrated panic by the time she arrived.  I see her laughing eyes as she sees my struggle in the tub.  I imagine her glee in knowing her plan worked perfectly.  I thrust again to no avail at the teasing layers.  I roll on my side and find no ease. 

I flop onto my belly.  The faceplate is planted on the tub bottom.  My breathing is further restricted but working.  I rub against the slippery bottom but find nothing works.  The frustration builds higher. 

I’m sure water has sloshed out of the tub.  I suspect the floor is wet and slippery.  I slowly work myself onto my back.  The hard panting from the respirator betrays my exhaustion.  I look through the fogged face piece at the ceiling.  I wait in the silence of my cocoon for release.  I drift to sleep again and this time I have an erotic dream. 

I find I am in hip boots and mud.  I am wading through the deep sticky muck.  It sticks to my boots.  I feel the heavy press of the thick mud against my legs as I struggle to find a way out of the trap.  I sink deeper into the stuff.  The hip boots transform into chest waders and then a wading suit like the one I wear as I sink deeper into the stuff.  I struggle for footing and slip to my knees.  Suddenly I am completely under the muck and I explode!  I experience an old fashioned “wet” dream and find myself awake from the shock.  I am panting hard as I again feel the heavy rubbery press and heat.  I again want to tear myself out of the clothing and again find it impossible.  The five minutes of panic pass and the panic subsides again.  I must wait for release.  I must wait for Mistress.

Hours?  How long have I been in the tub?  The water is gone from the camelback.  I pee into my suits and the stuff mixes with cum that I deposited earlier.  An interesting mixture my sweat, piss and cum makes inside the innermost layer; it is a slippery mixture that I can feel lubricating my skin and rubber.  I doze again.

I wake to see vague shadows in the foggy lens.  I see movement in the bathroom.  Mistress must be here.  I wait for her assistance in unlocking my bonds and getting out of the bath.  I don’t know if she will remove the layers or just dry them off with towels before carrying out some other fantasy.  I wait.  I see the dark shadow lean over the edge of the tub.  I anticipate release but find that she is merely lifting the stopper lever.  I feel the pressure of water slowly subsiding as it drains from the tub. 

Fluid gushes into my face as she pours something through the drinking system.  She must be holding the Camelback above so gravity lets it flow.  I have to fumble with my mouth to get the tube between my lips and I suck the fluid greedily.  It isn’t water but some sort of sports drink combination.  This bodes a longer enclosure as she seems to be concerned about my electrolytes.

I hear the water again.  Again hot water is filling the tub.  Mistress leaves but returns and fills the camelback to full capacity again.  The water covers me in its hot blanket and she shuts off the valve.  The sweat begins inside the suits anew.  The steamy environment fogs the respirator lens with more thick dew.

Mistress lifts my head and pulls a rubber bag over the respirator face plate.  Now the fog is replaced with total dark.  She pillows my head on some sort of inflatable neck support.  She doesn’t speak a word as she leaves the room.  She gives no hint of how long she intends for me to stew in the bath.  I am again alone in the tub, still locked in bondage.  My manhood is aroused by this unknown variable of “time in enclosure”.  I’ve played the game before and actually kept time, but I usually had control of the beginning and ending.  Control is always the bane of complete surrender to the rapture of rubber.  Now I am totally out of control and can easily take the final plunge into the rapture zone that is most often only a fantasy dream.

I hear my quick panting in the breathing system.  I hear my heart as the blood pulses inside my ears.  No outside sounds allow complete focus on my inner bodily inputs.  I chew on the drink tube and can hear saliva squeeze between teeth as I swallow.  I gnash my teeth and can feel/hear the grinding.  Every internal pulse and muscle tense is amplified.  The tactile press of rubber against my entire body is powerful… almost overwhelming as my throbbing tool surges and my whole body responds in that light stomach punch that signals aroused response.  The surge reaches a plateau and holds.  I conjure thoughts of rubber women and tight rubber bondage or rubber torture to find a magic thought that will push me beyond anticipation to final release. 

I try to see my shiny wet body in the tub… sitting in clear water with the black bag over my head while the array of black corrugated tubing and chrome fitting snakes out from beneath and through the re-breather bag and aromatic filtering system.  I picture Mistress quietly observing her creation from the corner of the room.  Maybe she is sealed in a catsuit.  Maybe she is slowly rubbing her hot rubber-sealed flower as she waits for her creation to fulfill final destiny.  That does it… the thought of her in the room… the silent voyeur to my carnal lusts… and I feel that final pulse of sweet clinching in the gut and the cum explodes from me… filling the rubber-sealed sheath so deeply buried under the layers.  I groan as my body tenses and thrashes in its restraints.  I’m sure water is again sloshing over the lip of the tub.  I finish the passionate release and again feel the tight press of the layers… that same suffocating requirement to strip clean of the sealing skin and purge my guilt for giving into the rubbery lust. 

As before the suffocation panic passes in a few minutes and I realize no release will happen.  I hear nothing from the room and even doubt that Mistress was present to witness the culmination of the game.  I swig at the Camelback greedily.  The slurping sounds of fluid pushing down my throat echo inside my inner ears.  I hear the whooshing breaths slow as my heart thumps subside.  Again I am in the afterglow twilight of rubber enclosure induced sex. 

I wonder if I am slowly yielding to asexual deviation inside rubber.  Mistress set the rules and the games but I find growing appeal to remaining cocooned in rubber for longer periods.  This time I don’t even know if she participates in any of the game beyond setting the rules and putting me into my captivity.  I surrender to the tight layers of stretchy rubber and let my body wander into the shadowy corners of the deviation. The wandering is not unpleasant!  Quite the contrary, I become more enthused with each hidden discovery revealed and each moment my body betrays my lustful thought of rubberized passion.

I have long since given up on analysis.  How this passion for shiny tight and slick rubbery skin on covering me has long since passed any level of logical assessment.  The pleasure of the sensation, the enclosure, the tight massage of rubbery fingers, the dark isolation of  within tight rubber masks and blinders, the sealing of mouth and ears and the silence from without that emphasizes the body sounds within... all this is part of the tactile and sensory experience of rubberized encasement.  Deprivation of the most common senses bring new focus, clarity and attunement within the living shell we call home for the entire time we tread this place yet we so frequently take for granted.  The rubber brings out the strong philosophical questions of why and how we are what we are.  The energy of the life is trapped inside the layers and refocused with crystal clarity into the imagery of the mind.  Or so it seems in my wandering thoughts between rubbery breaths.  The slow whoosh of my placid and paced breathing within the mask only emphasizes the feelings I express in my mind.  Rubber enclosure is the way to open the mind and explore, not the outside world, nut that internal fantastic world of the soul and mind.

So appropriate that the movie Fantastic Voyage found its heroes and heroines inside rubber wetsuits; the suits provided them protection from the sea of life inside their patient and sealed them inside their own personal rubber cocoon.  I’m sure that wasn’t the intent of the producers of the movie to create this allegorical transition, but to the fertile mind of one enclosed and sealed in rubber, such ideas find seed.

Mistress creates a perfect sensory deprivation experiment.  Mistress must be in the room as I am lifted slightly.  I find that new supports are holding me in place.  These seem to be wide bands that support me much like a hammock might, yet I am still in the tub.  The straps loosely hold me in place and I can tell water surrounds me.  The water cools to a point that I no longer feel it… there is no heat now, the water must be in equilibrium temperature with my skin.  Unknown to me, Mistress has set the heating system in the bathroom to 95 degrees… water at equilibrium with the outer surrounding doesn’t cool.  The constant temperature is so close to skin temperature that the tactile senses dull to a constant press of tight rubber.  My mind drifts off to a corner of sensory denial as everything is completely dulled to nothingness.   I feel pressure on my body but it is constant, unchanging… dulling the mind.  I am in dark, my hearing muffled, my sense of smell a constant aroma of heavy sweet rubber; I taste the rubber in my mouth.  I swig fluid and find it is now tasteless and warmed to body temperature… I feel it sluicing down the throat but I feel no sensation beyond the slight pressing of the stuff against the esophagus.

Beyond this new dulling of sensory input, I cannot tell if Mistress is watching or not.  I cannot tell anything about the situation.  I pee into my suits and the hot pee soon cools to skin temperature.  This is the most sensory feel I have since the new condition is created by Mistress.  I suddenly want to pee more just to feel the hot stuff gushing over my sensory-deprived skin.  I try to shout into my gagged mouth but the grunts are elusively muffled to nothing. 

Rubber darkness is my world.  I drift into light sleep.  I sense I’m falling and jolt to wakefulness… nothing.  I am secure in the bonds and panting into the mask.  I drift again into sublime nothingness.  I learn to cope with nothingness.  The coping lasts … I can’t know how long.  Panic sets in as my mind grips the constant feel of the cocoon and the hot, moist rubber aroma…I swill my warmed drink and hot pee gushes…cools.  The time passes… hours must be mounting as I can only gauge time by the frequent swigs of fluid and peeing out the results.  My cock grows hard inside the slippery sheath.  I feel my growing desire as thoughts concentrate on knowing what I know… I am buried inside a rubbery world alone in my desires and passions for rubber. 

My lifetime of rubber experience to this moment can be called upon in my sensory-blank mind.  I have no outside inputs to block my mind from total focus on the knowledge of my encasement.  For one not so closely bound to rubber, this experience would be torture… McGarett in the opening pilot of Hawaii Five O comes to mind.  His enclosure was torture, mine… bliss.  My throbbing cock slides as I undulate within the limits of my bonds and I know the erotic thoughts of my enclosure are driving me to another carnal release.  I find the climb to the abyss is slow and tiring as I pant into my restricted breathing system… I reach the summit and look into the chasm before leaping into the deep.  I wake from the light sleep as I fall and cum.  The release is weak from my tortured confinement and earlier passions but it relieves me just as completely as that first powerful blast.  The closing claustrophobia strikes hard this time and I struggle in the bonds and moan hard into my gag for release.  I sign our usual safe sign when in complete bondage. 

I wait for response and there is nothing.  Mistress is gone?  Mistress has left me?

Mistress watches her slave quietly.  He signs the safe release signal but she waits.  She knows how sexual release causes that immediate panic attack for rest and release.  She waits to see if he signs again after five minutes.

I sense she might be here but I am past the attack and settling back into equilibrium.  This test of endurance is now settling into a conquest to stretch my horizons in bondage.  I forgo signaling again and settle into contemplative rest.  I am breathing quietly now and I swill my drink.  I pee in response and relish the hot gush spreading around my groin.  I wait for the next carnal lust with anticipation.  I drift into a nether slumber of twilight.  I am not really soundly asleep.  I am not awake.  I am lost in my rubber cocoon and that knowledge fills me with satisfaction.

Perhaps heavy sleep hit me.  I wake with a start as I am on the verge of exploding into the sheath again.  My dream was erotic.  I was back in the hip boots, wading in the sticky thick mud.  Each leg sucked down into the deep muck right to my crotch as I wake with a start and the first shots of cum into the sheath.  The panic sets in again. 

I remember my first time I truly experienced sexual gratification in rubber… the chest waders and rain jacket covered me head to toe.  I wore yellow Playtex Living gloves and lay in my bed.  It was summer and hot in Kentucky.  Sweat rolled down my sides inside the sauna of the clothing.  I lay there in erotic anticipation of … what?  This was a first… I was thirteen… and a virgin to sexual lust.  Then my raging cock suddenly went harder and spurts began to fill my sweat-soaked briefs.  The panic set in as I realized the implications of the event!  This wasn’t the juvenile arousal followed by pissing I had experienced for many years up to this point… this was my sexual awakening to my rubber fetish.  I stripped naked as quickly as I could and shock in terror of committing some deplorable sin against something or someone… I threw the offending gear into the attic and vowed to never do it again… Four days later I was pulling the stuff from the attic… I was hooked.

Sleep comes on suddenly when physical exhaustion and sensory dulling is present.  I doze in fits and snorts punctuated by those sudden awareness of falling into the abyss.  I wake between dozes to find no change in my situation.  Maybe there is more piss inside my suits, maybe the camelback is refilled; I don’t know.  I know the hard member is again stirring deep inside the rubbery layers. 

This time I dream of my wetsuit experiences.  Having smooth skin black wetsuits to wear in bed became a necessity of my life.  I pit on a rubber rain suit – reversed so the rubber is against my skin  - under a wetsuit followed by chest waders and an outer rain parka.  Rubber against my skin and rubber on the outside with tight thick rubber sealing me tightly… perfection for a rubberists!  The only thing better is latex clothing – something I didn’t know existed in 1977.  How many times a week did I indulge in this pastime?  The suits wore out.  I often had to buy new ones but they were always with me.  Old rain parka hoods became hoods over my face.  I soon learned to punch a small hole in the hood at the mouth and insert a short piece of tubing for breathing…my first experience in total enclosure! 

The spontaneous ejaculation from this first time is well remembered.  It was my first spontaneous burst since that very first time.  I achieve the Nirvana so desired… spontaneous explosion… nothing artificial about that.  I develop more elaborate and exotic forms of enclosure in hopes of achieving that spontaneous blast again.  It eludes my grasp.  I always have to finish with a couple of light rubs of the crotch.  Still I find my explosive relief in the game.  Not until 1992 and my discovery of true latex fetish clothing does that elusive spontaneous cum happen.  My first catsuit, hood and add a gasmask and wham.  My throbbing cock boils over almost before I can finish donning the gear.  I found it again and just as suddenly it hides… My arousal is more intense as I add rubbery layers to my costume but in the end I still have to finish the job the clothing so tantalizingly sets the stage.

This is my life until I meet her.

I wake with a start.  The water is draining from the tub.  The straps loosen.  The cuffs unlocked.  My cramped and aching body is slowly helped from the tub.  The mask is pulled from my face and I am greeted with a long kiss against my gagged mouth from a rubberized vixen in red.

“My god, nine hours!  How did it go?  Oh, I love you so much!”

Nine hours in isolation should always be rewarded this way as Mistress/ wife leads me staggering to the bedroom to continue the game.

 

22.06.09

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