|From the Fire into the Rubberpan|
|by Sean Ingham|
|© Copyright 2014 - Sean Ingham - from the Liquidsmooth Latex Library|
|Storycodes: Solo-F; F+/f; latex; nightwear; sheets; tease; fondle; breasts; toys; les; mast; climax; cons; X||
|From the Fire into the Rubberpan Sean Ingham Solo-F; F+/f; latex; nightwear; sheets; tease; fondle; breasts; toys; les; mast; climax; cons; X|
1. The Wheelbarrow
The street lights in the evening fog blotched the avenue like dancing fantoms; in the awkward silence, the muffled echo of her heels on the sidewalk caused her to believe that she was followed. She would not stop nor turn no matter what; she hurried. She was terrified by a presence, lurking in the shadows that followed her every move. In the distance, she then noticed a person walking toward her; he was just three lights ahead, about two hundred yards.
Uncertain about the gender yet, she was trying to guess the size. Just ahead, she suddenly noticed a walking alley through a front lawn. The dwelling was surrounded with hedges, and completely dark inside. In one second her mind was made up: she would hide, wait for the pedestrian to pass, and by that time she would know if she was really followed. Her petite size vanished out of sight; she rounded the corner of the house and noticed the black profile of a wheelbarrow left there on the pathway of concrete slabs.
Quickly she turned it on its side and crouched behind it. She was shaking, her stomach in knots. The tension caused her to listen above her pounding heart to every sound that might confirm or reveal what she expected. She chanced a peek over the barrow's ledge, expecting the pedestrian to pass by. Nobody came. One minute, two minutes, nothing. Instinct told her to roll sideways behind a dense bush and to squat there. She could hardly hold her breath; she felt her heart drumming so loud that the whole block was going to wake up.
Suddenly, she perceived a shuffling noise coming down the walkway, but from the backyard. It did not sound threatening, but the profile of the silhouette confirmed a six foot or so human being. She was squinting, trying to make for more details when she heard the wheelbarrow being kicked over, and the thump of a body's fall on the ground, followed by a very loud string of curse words. Her first impulse was to go and assist, but she did not make a move.
The man was holding his leg; he was in accute pain. "D.., d..., d... ! " over and over. "What a stupid idea to leave this on a footpath! Ah, these broads... all the same...".
She was twenty feet away from that scene, paralyzed with fear. She would have given anything for a black tarp to hide under. After a minute or so, the stranger stood up and limped away, turned left on the side walk and disappeared. "That was one", she thought. "Now the other."
For what seemed a long time, she waited, freezing on the damp ground, but then decided to take the chance of walking back to the street. Yet a voice of caution told her that if the pedestrian had been able to see her enter that property, he could still be close by waiting for her. She was getting so cold and afraid, she could not even cry. Every thought had become a tremendous effort of concentration. A pair of racoons tipped over the neighbour's garbage can. The racket gave her the answer she was waiting for. She heard the man run on the pavement, on the driveway toward the noise. Through the branches, she just made out the body of a stocky man; he was standing, facing her, about forty-five feet away. The tension was so intense that she closed her eyes unable to face the inevitable. He was not the same man. "G.d, make him go away ! "
Suddenly it dawned on her that neither of these men were looking for her, but for each other perhaps. That thought calmed her nerves somewhat, and helped her wait for the next turn of events. He was smoking a cigarette and did not appear in any kind of a hurry. Next, she realized that she could be in trouble, trespassing, just like the other two... Out of nowhere, a minivan pulled in the driveway. As the doors opened and slammed shut, sounds of laughter, women's voices, four or five of them transformed a scene pregnant with horror into a party. They were all talking at the same time; no one listened to what the other had to say. They had been drinking by the sound of their merriment. She could just see them through the branches: five well proportioned women, in their late twenties or so, with something different about them, their clothes seemed very shiny. A few seconds later they were inside the house.
Since the light through the windows was now glowing through the yard, she could see the man's features. He was approaching the house, his attention riveted to the front window. Two more yards and he was going to fall over the wheelbarrow, but in the other direction this time. She made herself very small so that he could not see her. The scraping of the metal on the concrete slabs of the walkway followed again by the thump of a falling body made her shrink with empathy for the pain he must have been feeling. Seconds later, the front door opened and two women with flash lights were combing the area. The man took off through the backyard like a jack rabbit. She noticed a wallet laying on the grass, six feet away from her. She decided that he could be a voyeur, as it sometimes happens when several girls share the rent of a house. After picking it up and stashing it inside her all-purpose bag, she got on her feet. She was so stiff that she almost fell down; but she was determined to ring the doorbell and report what she had seen and found.
2. The Wallet
Her heart was beating fast as she heard hurried steps responding to the ring of the bell. A quick glance through the lace curtain of the side window proved to her that these girls were no fools. At last she heard the latchet of the door being released; an attractive face was looking at her.
"What can I do for you?"
"May I come in for a couple of minutes?"
"Well, of course!"
The door opened; she walked into a small lobby and stood there waiting. "Come and sit down. Are you cold? Do you want some hot tea?" The sound of that offer was impossible to resist.
"I don't want to presume."
The hostess went to the kitchen and brought out a tray of large mugs, a full pot of tea, another one steaming with hot cocoa, and warm muffins.
"Forgive me to say this, but you look like you have been run over by a car. Can I help you?"
The visitor was so cold that it took her half a minute to catch on to the fact that she had been asked a question. She felt embarrassed and blushed a little. Then she looked at her clothes. Her jeans were muddy, so was her jacket. There was nowhere to hide. In the back of the house she could hear animated conversations between the other women living there. She attempted to collect her thoughts, opened her bag, pulled out the wallet, and opened it up. Her fingers were stiff, frozen. Every move of hers was clumsy.
On the coffee table she pulled out a few family photos, credit cards, some bills, some receipts, a couple of prescriptions, the usual stuff, and a driver's license. The mugshot looked like the man she had seen. She then became aware that her hostess was observing her.
"Do you know this person?" she asked handing over the driver's license to her hostess who upon cursory examination let out a cry and blanched.
"Where did you get this? When did you find it?"
"He was there, when you pulled in. He walked across the yard looking to that window, but stumbled on the wheelbarrow and fell. His wallet slipped out of his pocket, and when you came out, he ran away."
"What were you doing in the yard, yourself?"
She knew that her story would be hard to believe, but she decided to tell only the truth. Her hostess seemed convinced. "Follow me!" she said.
Both women went into a small office where a computer was humming on a desk. There was a cassette tape recorder. A fresh cassette was introduced and the hostess recorded an introduction. Following this, she began to ask questions to her visitor. In the course of the recording, she made a description of the wallet. When all of this was completed, she smiled and explained. "What you have brought here is the main piece of evidence in my harrassment case against my former law firm. You cannot understand my gratefulness to you. Now, let's have some tea or cocoa, and get acquainted. My name is Laura Feldberg."
"Isabella Martinez. Delighted."
The two women joined the rest of the company who was devouring the snacks. Laura introduced Isabella to Francine, Joy, Cindy, and Suzie. Only then did Isabella notice that these four women were dressed in nightgowns, jellibas, or leisure clothes made of that same kind of shiny material. She noticed a sweet scent besides normal female frangrance, something with a little prick in it. For the moment she did not let her curiosity appear. Laura informed the group of what Isabella had found, summarizing the events. They were awed and asked all kinds of questions to Isabella. Suddenly the rain began to fall, and the wind shook the trees with tremendous force. Without warning the lights went off.
"That's the gale they predicted. Let me get the candles!" said someone.
"No!" ordered Laura. "Let me observe the garden for a while, because I can see without being seen."
"Yes, let's!" everyone chorused lining up at the windows overlooking the surroundings. A few minutes later they watched him trace his path through the yard, and with a very small flashlight search the area where he had fallen and run away from. He came back a second time. Finally, Joy was so sick of it that she slipped into the garden with a flash camera, and surprised him with at least six snap shots in a row. He hesitated, not knowing if he should attack her and take the camera away, or run. He opted for the second solution. "Dirty voyeur! Buy magazines instead!" shouted Joy after him.
She came back in, her pearly pink gown all wet and shiny in the light of the candles. Isabella noticed the droplets of rain water streaming down all around. Laura hugged Joy with excitement. "Thank you, Joy, thank you! You are so courageous! I could never do that." Suddenly the power came back.. " Switch off the lights, Francine. We prefer the candles."
Suzie lit the wood in the stoked fire place. The flames quickly wrapped around the logs, and the homey smell of dry pine filled the room. "Where do you live, Isabella?" inquired Laura.
"I was going to the bus stop on Jackson Avenue. I have about twenty minutes on the bus and five minutes walk to my room on 66th. Wow! as a matter of fact, my last bus leaves in ten minutes, I have to say good bye."
"Now wait, the weather is awful, and I don't know where is that jerk. Would you accept sleeping here, since it is Friday?" offered Laura.
"Are you sure?" asked Isabella shily.
"Absolutely!" chorused all the others.
"Then it's yes. But I have nothing with me."
"Oh, we can take care of that!" they chorused.
While the late night snack was developping into a slumber party, Isabella 's attention was drawn again to the strange material of the leisure clothes they were all wearing. Suzie noticed it - with pleasure. "Isabella, come with me." She led her to the bathroom where she supplied her with towels. "That' for your bath or shower; throw all your clothes in the washer and turn it on. Here is the soap. I will bring you some night clothes in a couple of minutes."
Isabella did as she was told, She was happy to feel the hot water bring her body back to normal temperature. There were sponges to scrub with, and she used them until her skin was smooth and prickly. When she pulled open the shower curtain to grab a towel, she saw, on a red hanger, the most beautiful nightgown in light blue shiny material with a white collar, a very delicate and feminine creation. There were also a pair of bloomer panties in the same color material. A large box of baby powder was standing on the chair. Isabella used it all over her skin. Then she slipped on the panties; she was surprised to see that the crotch was opened. They felt good, however, very soft and light.
The nightgown slipped on easily. She began to notice the strange and cool caress of that garment all over her body. It was quite sexy, she decided, blushing a little. In the mirror, she looked as good as she felt. Her hair wrapped in the towel, she clicked on the washer, and tip toed back to the living room. The cooler temperature in the house immediately enhanced the sexy feeling of the gown; she could not imagine what was going on, but her body was tingling all over.
"Excuse me, but what is this made of?" she whispered to Suzie.
With a big smile, Suzie turned to her and hugged her. Isabella almost went into shock. She could feel Suzie's body, her hardened nipples, just the beginning of her body heat, but it was more than that, she did not know what, but it was heady, like a strong wine. It was different, Isabella felt naked, though she was dressed. She still felt Suzie's body as if she had had nothing on; but both of them were dressed. It did not make sense. That gown felt like a second skin, it was intimate and yet independent. "I'm going crazy, what is it made of?" she whispered again.
"Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, yes, very much so; it's more than comfortable. Where did you buy such a thing?"
"Do you enjoy it?" Isabella blushed; she knew, they were enjoying theirs also.
"Yes, it is... different, ... strange. I have never worn anything like that."
"Come here, lay on the sofa and relax; here is a muffin!"
Isabella could not resist. She was led by the hand to the large sofa, and she sank into the pillows. Suzie sat down on the floor in front of the sofa. She took Isabella's hand in hers, looked deep into her eyes. "I am so glad you are staying here with us... and that you enjoy wearing this gown."
Isabella could not figure out what the second remark had to do with the first. Anyway, she let herself relax. Laura came with a small glass of Port wine for her. "Take this, you will feel even better after all this cold weather."
In no time she was so relaxed that she felt silly. Suzie was gently caressing her arm, sliding the loose sleeve back and forth over it. Isabella could feel all kinds of electricity going through her body. It was confusing, overwhelming. A second glass of wine sent her into "lala land". Nothing mattered any more. Suzie was now carressing her breasts, very lightly, and it felt so good; she had never felt anything as wonderful. She knew that under normal circumstances she would not have allowed anyone to do that, but it felt so good that it felt right at that moment. She could hear the noise of gentle conversation, the music of a rumba dance, slow and steady.
Now hands were caressing her belly and others her thighs; she was sinking fast, all her defenses smashed; she wanted to cry, in fact she did. Suzie took her head in her arms and pressed her face against her well developed soft breasts. The smell of Suzie and of her strange nightgown was a turn on for Isabella. Never had she felt so loved, so secure; she abandonned herself like a baby. She did not resist, on the contrary, she pressed her face between Suzie's breasts, opened her mouth and licked them through the material. The taste was a little bitter sweet, she could not define it, but she loved it. More hands were caressing everywhere. Soon she felt carried by many arms. She was placed on a large bed, shoved to the middle of it.
Suzie laid next to her on her right, and Cindy on her left. Isabella did not notice the sheet she was laying on, but when the top sheet with the feather cover came over her, she knew it was made of the same material as her gown, yet a little heavier. At first it felt a little cold in that bed, and the three girls hugged each other very very close. Suzie and Cindy soon began to caress Isabella's body. She felt so good that she thought she was flying way up in the sky, higher, higher... One of the hands began to explore between her legs. Isabella had no strength to move, no will to resist, she let her do. Suzie kissed her cheek and murmured sweet words. Isabella did not understand them, but her attention was focused on the very light and gentle fingering in her sweet spot.
Soon the string of the kite was cut off, and she was flying free, but the hand was still carrying on. Isabella felt sweet little cramps, or contractions in her low belly. They came in series of six or seven. After a while, they grew stronger. All of a sudden a hard contraction made her bend her knees, then a sunami bent her in half. The hand worked harder. Isabella instinctively pushed her crotch against these elusive fingers that were causing such incredible sensations. Her belly wanted to explode, contractions came on like waves on top of each other. Isabella's energy was draining out, yet they were coming and coming regardless. She was afraid, but did not want it stopped. "More...more... more... " She kept on saying.
She wanted to cry again but could not because she was afraid it would stop. The contractions went deeper and faster. Now fingers were insde her vagina, others rubbed her clitoris, other hands were caressing her breasts, her belly. They were everywhere. It was all caving in on top of her and she exploded out of control. She was pushing the hands away, but she wanted them; she wanted the fight, the pressure, and got it and much more. Her moans were beastlike, she let it all hang out. The hands kept coming. Now she reached a high plane of detachment; her body was so energized that she could not control anything, she felt like fainting; in fact she did, but when she came to, one finger was still working her clitoris very lightly; it was the sweetest torture. It soon would send her back into a half conscious world.
How long did it last? she could not tell, but it must have been hours. When she came to, she was squeezed between her two companions, her head between their breasts. She felt so secure, so loved that she could have stayed there all her life. But she 'had to go'; it was urgent. "Suzie, where is the bathroom?"
"I thought you would never ask, baby." Both women got up and led her to the bathroom. "Have you seen something like that?" Suzie was showing Isabella a soft vaginal massager.
"May be, I can't recall."
"Well let me show you. Come back to bed." With infinite care, Suzie powdered Isabella's body once more to make her comfortable in the gown. Then she lubricated the toy and gently pushed it into Isabella's sweet hole. Cindy was carressing Isabella's breasts and belly during that operation so that the girl would keep completely relaxed. Ignoring the cold, Isabella felt the instrument fill her, posess her, focus her. A moment later, Suzie turned it on. Quickly Isabella's contractions returned, but much stronger this time. Yet, when she was close to climax, Suzie turned it off. She wanted to build Isabella's libido again.
After a few cycles, she took out the tool, and started fingering her again. Isabella climaxed for a long long time, bouncing from one star to another, mutating into fireworks of brilliant colors. She felt untold joys while bursting, and deep security when contracting. Her sex was expanding further and further until she became all sex and only sex, lived for one reason: expanding its outreach and satisfying its voracious appetite, not unlike a cosmic pump drawing everything to itself before sending it back out with a big bang into the universe.
At last she fell asleep from exhaustion, fragile, but fulfilled. It was daylight when they woke up. Laura was bringing hot coffee and donuts on a tray. "I don"t want to come out of there... never... never... I never knew it could be so beautiful ." Isabella was moaning over and over. She was so frail that she took refuge between Suzie's tender breasts. She would lick her nipples through the material. The smell of the latex with Suzie's, the taste, the softness of the material made her all the more helpless. Suzie was loving every minute of it, of course. "Suzie, tell me, what is my gown made of, and this bed?"
"Does it really matter?" she whispered.
"Yes... because I have found my home, and I can't ever leave it." She began to cry tears of joy. "Thank you, thank you.... thank you... "
Cindy's hand reached over, gently squeezed her breast, and caressed her stomach, lower, and deeper. Isabella's sex cravings resurged like a geyser, she was completely unglued. No, it would never stop... "Welcome home, baby, we love you, we want you home, always!" Suzie's hand pressed Isabella's head deeper into her latex covered tender bosom.
4. What is it made of ?
But for Suzie, the other women had met in the kitchen to see if they could hire Isabella as a housekeeper. Joy was making the list of her duties which were not too many. They felt that Isabella was one of the best candidates to train into the complete addiction to their special kind of clothing. They had a difficult time keeping to the subject so many ideas were being suggested. As a lawyer, Laura had the best mind to bring everyone to agree, and she laid out a plan in phases in which everyone would have a primary part and a secondary one.
The first stage was to attach Isabella to the group, and, as long as she was happy in bed, they would let her, taking turns eventually, so that Suzie could have some time off. Each of the women worked out a plan for their part in loving Isabella, assuming she would cooperate. It was slow but sensual, gentle but persuasive, bold but secure. They knew how they would keep her in a state of constant confusion and arousal, yet without guilt feelings. They knew what they were doing. "As a rule, everyone here will dress sensual. Although it may feel a little excessive, we want to see how Isabella adjusts. Don't forget, she has not yet accepted to live here. May be she will want to go to her home. "
It was decided that Laura would present the idea to her. By late afternoon, Isabella was so exhausted, that anything was becoming counter productive. After a long shower, she came out of the bathroom in the blue nightgown. "Sorry, I need my clothes."
"How could I have forgotten, they must still be in the dryer" replied Suzie.
"You forgot to turn it on, Suzie." echoed Joy. "Well, come with me, Isabella, I will lend you some clothes."
The two women went to the bedroom. Over the years they had collected some petite size clothes for such occurences. Suzie pulled out a pair of black rubber skin tight jeans, a pink tank top and a cute white jacket with snap buttons, trimmed with black material. After powdering Isabella, the pants were slipped on and stretched so tight one could see the lips of her sex parted by the crotch seam. The tank top was of nude color that one could have thought Isabella had nothing on. Her nipples were aroused by the constant friction between the tank top and the jacket. She looked real cute and sexy with a pair of short red patent boots as the finishing touch.
"Isabella, I have to go shopping. Will you come with me?" asked Laura. "Dressed like that, is that okay?"
Isabella blushed, wanting but not daring. Laurie was already wrapped in her macintosh rain coat. "This looks great to me.. Cindy, do we have a rain coat for Isabella?" In no time she was snapped and tightly belted in a long black shiny macintosh coat, even more glossy than Laura's.
"You look smashing, as they say; you'll never see more guys after you." The two girls left in the van.
Isabella was no match to Laura's skills in persuasion. They went to her room for a first load of essentials. Then they went shopping in the mall. Laura parked the car really far from the entrance door, and by the time they went in, their coats were dripping wet. They were a sensation. Isabella felt naked, yet she enjoyed being the center of attention. Around coffee, her mac thrown on the back of a chair, Isabella looked preoccupied, and asked, "Laura, tell me, what are these clothes made of ?"
"How do you feel in them?"
"What if I told you that you are addicted to them for life?"
"Even if I were not, I would like to be. Tell me."
The walk in the tight jeans had aroused her, and she did not know how to stop it; her nipples felt hot and lusty. She knew that she was again sinking into an orgasm, maybe more. Laura's sustained gaze into her eyes gave her shivers of delight; she noticed how Laura's eyes slowly went down to her chest, then to her already arching belly. Everywhere Laura looked, Isabella felt aroused; the feeling was frightening. Laura looked at Isabella's thighs. Normally she would have crossed her legs, or pulled down the hem of her skirt. But she slowly parted her knees while Laura's gaze was sweeping the insde of her sheathed legs up her crotch.
Just at that time she felt her vaginal fluid ooze out into the latex jeans. She knew Laura knew. Isabella was no more herself, she was about to shake with fear when Laura straightened up. It had lasted barely a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Their eyes met; Laura smiled with kindness; she took her time sipping her coffee. "Isabella, we all are addicted to these clothes. You just started on that path. You can leave us, and stop at any time you choose." She paused for maximum effect, then continued. "If in addition to your responsibilities I would prescribe the way you need to be dressed, would that be something you could accept?"
Isabella considered the question. "If this means clothes in this material, the answer is yes, yes, yes. Any time, anywhere."
"That's a big commitment; I am proud of you."
"But there is one condition to this; you must tell me what they are made of."
Laura looked away; she was buying time obviously. It was as if she hadn't heard anything. She pulled out her wallet, left the money in the saucer plus a tip. Isabella realized that she was dealing with girls who would lead her to realms she could not possibly dream of. "Let's go home, shall we?" said Laura matter of factly. They had agreed that Laura upon their return would honk the horn if Isabella had accepted the deal. The girls would then congratulate her, have a drink or two, and prepare her for her FIRST day of initiation (out of forteen) to become part of their community. That first day was going to last until Sunday night, for sure, probably longer.
"Laura, tell me, would my clothes be made of ... rubber?"
Her eyes were glazed. Peep ! peep ! peep !...
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