Gromet's PlazaLatex Stories

Ms Mackay on a Short Leave

by Ludwig

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© Copyright 2011 - Ludwig - Used by permission

Storycodes: Solo-F; latex; catsuit; hood; mask; toys; insert; breathplay; tease; climax; cons; X

It felt a bit unfamiliar to wake up like this; without the sound of the alarm clock humming like an overloaded relay station, or another of those abominable morning shows blaring unfiltered nonsense right into her left ear. She hadn’t had a day off for what seemed like centuries, and right now, her decision to take four days plus the weekend off seemed like a stroke of genius.

Her back began to have opinions when she rolled over on her side to snuggle down further under the duvet to avoid the bleak sunlight from the window. It was probably best to get up and get the old bag of bones moving, she thought. There was no point in toughing it out until nine thirty, when Mrs. Bradley next door let out those mutts in her back yard. What they couldn’t chew to pieces, they drove insane by barking at incessantly. Yap,yap,yap. No need to let them have the pleasure of ruining her morning now, was there?

While the coffee slowly untangled her nerve ends and let her re-establish coherent strains of thought, she rested her eyes looking out the kitchen window facing the street. This village was indeed a strange place, and she never ceased to amaze her how tranquil it could be at this time of the day. Almost sedated. It was indeed different to London in every sense. Congestion here meant three vehicles in the street at the same time, plus a kid on a bicycle. It was strange to think that the bustle was only an hour away by train. Or three, perhaps. Nowadays it was really hard to be a fan of the privatisation of British rail.

Stupidly enough, she had brought enough work home to counterbalance any more or less unexpected delays, which had effectively meant that she had created more stress than she had ever thought was possible in a cosy place like this.

Taking another big bite of the warm bun, she wondered if places like Barnstaple or one of those fairytale villages in Wiltshire worked like pretty pressure cookers, harbouring self-made head cases desperately seeking for an alternative to city life while working themselves bonkers. Perhaps Midsomer Murders was the most realistic detective drama, after all?

Upstairs and downstairs, clean as a whistle. She didn’t even remember having done all the dreary bits of tidying up already, only a passing fit of commando hoovering and a quick bathroom hose-down. Yesterday evening was a bit of a blur, but no one could complain about the results. So much for planning ahead, she thought. It would have been nice having something to do that didn’t require much brain power, without feeling that she began her little time off by wasting a day away.

The dog noises had died down when she entered the upstairs bathroom to brush her teeth. Her mirror image was still not showing signs of improvement. Why should it? Her next birthday was only a month away, and she kept her fingers crossed that no one would point out that she was getting closer to the half-century mark. The amount of hair coming off onto her hairbrush every time she made an effort to straighten out the ginger frizz made her suspect that she would look like a freckled version of Heston bloody Blumenthal sooner than that. Not nice.

Halfway through the toothbrushing routine, she froze. There actually was something she hadn’t had time to do in quite a while now. Something that was far more interesting than watching all those online episodes of QI she always missed when they were aired on TV, or Sudoku, pretend gardening or just whatever. In fact, today would be ideal for just that.

Nearly everything behind the narrow door was in a state of total disorder that would eventually have to be sorted out, but at the far end of the closet was a set of drawers devoid of clutter, a few large plastic storage boxes and a small area closed off by a heavy curtain. Someone had, years ago, cracked a joke about her selective pedantry, but there was flawless logic behind it all. There was no real point in having to dig through all the stuff just to find the things she wanted right now, and besides, it was quite satisfying to keep it all very neat. Nothing lost, nothing spoiled.

She wondered if she ever would get her ordinary wardrobe organised like this, but decided that it was useless to fight the inevitable entropy. With a sigh, she withdrew a heavy doctor’s bag from one of the storage boxes. It contained the essential little tool kit to make things go- and look- so much smoother. The handle still felt a little slippery from the last time she had brought it out.

The sound of the curtain when it was drawn made the little hairs in the back of her neck stand on end, and the instantly recognisable scent roused the few remaining neurons that were still a bit uncooperative. Now, she felt awake and ready. Instead of impatiently diving in at once, she decided to let her anticipation grow a little longer. There was no rush at all. She had time to be a little choosy today.

Over the years she had built up quite a collection of rubber; garments, accessories and various toys selected with great care. Some of her first findings were still in near perfect condition.

Twentysix years of fun. Well, nearly. She smiled at the thought. Tucked away in the bottom drawer were the goodies she had come across when she wanted to try full enclosure for the first time. She had virtually gone straight from messing about with pretty flimsy, innocent latex undergarments to rather heavy rubber gear in one go. Three weeks’ wages worth of things she had been curious about. Unfazed, as always. She didn’t regret it.

Now, several years and a few extra pounds later it would probably take some time, a pair of helping hands and lots of lube to get into that old Sealwear catsuit, but it was still worth keeping. Oh, how exciting it had been to unfold that ominous, strange black mass for the first time. Thinking of how much fun she had had with it since sent little tingly beads rolling down her spine.

Perhaps something like that would be just right on a day like this, she thought, running her fingers along the plastic garment bags hanging from the rack behind the curtain. There was a fairly large selection of clothing for- nearly- all sorts of occasions, but perhaps nothing she really felt like donning today. She reached for a blouse and held it up to the light. It was an exquisite-looking piece in radiant sanguine red that she adored, very sheer, wonderful to wear and...in fact a bit of a waste to put on if there was no one around to admire it. A two-piece green leisure suit also went back on the rack. It would have been all right for a hot day, but today casual was somehow a bit off. No, this time she would go for something else. More basic. Black. Tight. Naughty. It wouldn’t be that hard to find what she needed.

The bathroom felt a bit nippy when she stood there undressed. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to let the bedroom window stay open for much longer. Then, she added a little absent-mindedly to herself while puckering her nose, this place would feel less like a cold kennel. Damn that woman.

She looked at her mirror image as she peeled off her pants and threw them in the laundry basket. It could have been worse, even if gravity seemed to have done a proper job from her neck down to right below where her waist used to be found at better times. Still, there wasn’t any more of her than last time she dared take a good look, which was a definite plus. A bit more sun, a little exercise and hey presto, here’s looking at you, kid.

The doctor’s bag was snapped open with a flick of her fingers, and she produced a pump bottle sealed in a small plastic resealable bag. Instead of using any of the fancier lubricants, she had purchased a fair amount of prime quality silicone oil from an art materials shop. It had worked great so far, both as a dressing aid and as an effective conditioner. Sometimes little things like that made all the difference.

Covering her lower body with a fair amount of the colourless liquid, she ceased the opportunity to plan ahead a little. If there ever was a checklist for moments like these, she now tried to tick off all the things that could possibly bother her if things should get a little heated. The way she felt now, however, uncovering the items she had picked out from her collection, it was rather a question of when it got out of hand.

Her fingers trembled a little when she held the suit up under her nose and lovingly inhaled the heady scent of fine rubber. It was a fairly austere-looking model, but it was carefully cut and featured inconspicuous breast zippers apart from the three-way back zipper, which always worked great even when her hands felt all numb and fumbly.

Without wasting any more time, she methodically folded the suit, placed it over the side of the bathtub and fished out a smoky black open-faced hood from the remaining bundle on the floor. She deftly pulled it over her head, but left it folded around her neck without covering her hair. That could wait until later, if she felt like getting really serious. Besides, it tended to be a little bit hot to wear it while she was dressing up. She was already slightly damp with perspiration, and the chilly draught was not much of a relief.

The next thing was to get the suit on without too much acrobatics, but to her relief it slid on quite easily this time, slowly encasing her with a cool, velvety touch. She found the small strap attached to the slider and pulled the zipper up her back in a single movement, sealing herself in. Stretching her arms out, she drew a deep breath and bent down to fetch the gloves.

She had chosen a pair of elbow-length, fairly tough gloves. It was quite nice to be able to avoid those nasty little stains of sweat that always seemed to end up wherever she put her hands when she wore something really tight without covering herself properly. With these on, she didn’t have to be too careful with what she handled, and they were supple enough not to render her fingers useless.

Last but not least; a pair of thick but comfortable socks. She wouldn’t bother putting on shoes since she was going to stay indoors. Strutting about in heels would probably kill her already sore feet, and boots...well, no.

Another few dollops of lube made her arms reflect the soft light like oily tentacles, and facing the mirror once again, she made sure that every inch of her body shone enticingly. A little jolt from down below spread through her in a welcome wave of familiar pleasure as she smoothed out a few creases around her thighs. Yummy. Suddenly, a different Karen had appeared.

It didn’t take long for her to make herself temporarily incommunicado. It was just a matter of putting the phone into silent mode and keeping herself from being too visible online, even if she actually had to check a few things before folding the laptop for the day. The doorbell was not going to be a big problem, she thought, glancing at the yellow plastic duck that was wedged into the little space where the actual bell in question should have been.

Even if it was a bit of fun to catch up on what she had missed during the last few days and all that, it was quite hard to stay focused for more than very short moments. The short walk down the stairs had caused certain parts of her to smoulder, and sitting down in an office chair that at least partially gave a new meaning to the word ‘ergonomic’ did not improve things. She simply couldn’t keep still.

She got up and headed for the kitchen, suddenly aware that the rubber had warmed up enough to feel like being fused to her skin without any sensation of stickiness. It was a pleasant, familiar feeling that made her move slower, smoother, to savour every step. Curiously, it also made her a bit thirsty.

A few rays of sunlight bounced off the slick, black surface as she adjusted the blinds in the kitchen window. The instant heat felt like being touched with liquid fingers, and she shuddered with delight at the equally sudden cooling as she stepped out of the light.

What if anyone would see her like this through the window? Surely, that wouldn’t be such a big deal these days, would it? Well, people here probably react strongly if she dared to go outside wearing vivid pink. However, that old lady who always seemed to be off to somewhere, constantly trudging along the street, was weirdly enough one of those around this place who she thought would mind the least. Not that she knew why exactly, but it seemed to make some sort of sense anyway. Funny old world.

Hearing the water running down the sink suddenly triggered a pleasant distant memory. Her, in the bathtub, dressed in a scarlet two-piece suit. It was fairly cheap and didn’t fit her perfectly- the sleeves were cut by someone without a tape measure and the latex was not exactly the best available- but there, with the hot, soapy water slowly filling the suit through the feet and...

She nearly dropped the glass as it ran over, slipping through her grip.

The trouble with keeping everything in order was that chaos was never far away. Her toy box nearly ended up upside down on the floor when a certain object of desire all of a sudden had gone missing. Only seconds before snapping, she took a deep breath and had a closer look underneath an unobtrusive-looking case, found just the thing she had in mind and grabbed it.

It would have been only too easy to simply unzip and take the edge off the mounting excitement, but that was not her way of doing it. All she allowed herself right now was a few furtive, soothing strokes with her gloved fingers until she calmed down enough to proceed without ruining anything.

Without much hesitation, she sought out a few other things she thought could be useful a little later on, before carefully unzipping her crotch. She almost felt a little embarrassed at how her delicate bits virtually burst out of the suit, welcoming the familiar touch of her hand. Oh, Christ. When was the last time she had been like this? A soft giggle escaped her as she slowly ran her fingertips over the creased and moist labia, teasing herself a little before she decided to proceed.

Her first toy of choice was something she had thought most of all looked like a pink mobile phone for martians when she had first laid eyes on it, but it performed quite well indeed. It was shaped to cover the whole area around the clitoris and stay put right where the G-spot were supposed to be when it was inserted, and it was a surprisingly compliant creature as well. Anyway, she could have managed anything up to thermos-sized things the way things were now, she thought as the toy slipped into her almost by itself. She only hoped that she would be able to get it out later when she eased the zipper back up. Sometimes it seemed like she tried to hold on- painfully tightly- to things that gave her a little more prolongedpleasure when it was finally time to quit.

Trying a few steps back and forth, wiggling a little, she made sure that everything felt like it should before going downstairs again. In her hand, she kept the little wrap of extra fun, but she suspected that she would have to be a bit quick about it if she planned to use any of it. Already, the pleasant wooziness and familiar tingly sensation in her limbs signalled that it was soon time to lie down or fall over.

A few pieces of furniture came with the house when she rented it, and the more easily removable objects had, over time, mysteriously ended up somewhere out of sight. One of the things that still remained was a black and bulky three-seated sofa she definitely didn’t like sitting on, but it was way too big and heavy to shift. Now, however, the slick bycast leather wasn’t going to stick to the back of her thighs or feel strangely icky, and as she flopped down on it and propped herself against the matching pillows she smiled a little wryly. It saved her the trouble of getting the big rubber sheets out to safeguard anything of value against difficult stains. This thing would be easy to wipe off afterwards.

For a long moment she sat perfectly still with her eyes half closed, feeling the pulse hammering in her chest. The suit felt relentlessly tight, but far from being too restrictive. A quick glance at her own reflection in the glass cabinet doors added to her excitement, and she began running her fingers along the slick rubber enveloping her lower belly and thighs.

By pressing down gently on her crotch zip, she made the toy come to life. Barely noticeable at first, then increasingly insistent as she kept her fingers firmly on the spot until she felt satisfied with the intensity.

Instead of making her tense, the oscillating thing made her feel like going soft all over. She imagined having a very small hive of dancing bees between her legs. A strange sensation she only remembered faintly. Was it really that long ago?

Only seconds later, a wave of heat forced her to draw breath. Pleasantly surprised, she relaxed again and enjoyed the warmth spreading through her. These little rumblings were a good sign. This was not going to be over anytime soon. Happily wiggling her toes inside the thick, moist socks, she let another few ripples loose before reaching for the little package.

The small, futuristically shaped toy that fell out in her hand was really devised to stimulate the prostate gland, but the fact that she lacked one had not stopped her from using it. It was, after all, a much more comfy thing to stuff up her bum than most plugs she had tried. Smooth as silk and with five different settings to choose from, all of them a quite fun experience.

She grinned as she turned slowly on her side, trying to fit it inside her without disturbing the busy beehive a bit further up. There was no real need of extra lubrication, as it were, but it still smarted just a bit before the last inch slipped in. Before closing the zipper to prevent the little intruder from escaping, she selected the interval setting she thought would suit her best.

The combined sensation was enough to make her swear loudly, and she had to fight not to let go for a little while longer, even if it was impossible to keep from squirming erratically. The sofa seemed to cope with a little rough treatment without falling to pieces, though, which was a bit of luck. She prided herself on being able to control her orgasms quite well after all these years of practice, but this was perhaps not exactly the easiest way of trying her skills.

Now, she eased the hood into place, adjusted it quickly and retrieved the last thing she had brought with her from where it lay on the floor. It nearly slipped out of her hands as she tried to unfold it.

From early on, her curiosity about masks had led her to explore all the fun things they could be used for except from simply donning them to add that little extra something to the experience. She smiled a little to herself as she unzipped the thin, transparent vacuum hood and slipped it over her head. Her first exhale made it balloon out nicely, and she traced its contour to the back of her neck to seal it tight to her head by carefully closing the zipper.

There were a number of other things she could have opted for. Her selection of gas masks was nothing short of extensive, but somehow it was not really the right choice for today. Any kind of heavier breath play would definitely turn this into a very intense, but exhausting session. That would probably spoil the rest of the evening. No, she thought as the sheer latex clung to her face at her first sharp intake of breath, this was definitely right for now.

There was something deeply appealing about not being able to see anything but the milky rubber inflating and deflating, all the sounds being distorted by the creaking and whistling of air through the tiny hole and the measured restriction of fresh air forcing her to focus on her breathing. She occasionally enjoyed watching herself masturbate, but only when she was covered from head to toe in rubber and messing around with one of her favourite masks. It was a strange turn-on to witness her own frantic struggle for air as she was rapidly pushed over the edge by a powerful toy, but this was not entirely the same thing.

This, she thought as she fought the urge to press her palms against her crotch, was much closer to meditation than masturbation.

A sudden, strange falling sensation made her grab hold of the cushions. Within a split second she was desperately trying to stay on top of the surge as it swept through her with such force that it squeezed the air out of her lungs. The sound of her own moaning surprised her, and she almost started laughing right before the next warm wave of pleasure flooded over her.

A glint of lucid thought put a grin on her face under the flaccid mask. She had only planned to get rid of the worst itch, and then strut about the house just relaxing and shamelessly enjoying her first day off in style. What she hadn’t thought of was becoming almost painfully obvious to her, and she shuddered at the fizziness in her limbs revealing another climax on its way. Batteries. The intruder in her rear would happily cause mayhem for another half hour if she allowed it to, and the rechargeable pink thing currently fluttering away inside her most sensitive could probably outperform the plug quite easily. It would be very unlike her to resist taking up the challenge.

I’m going to regret this so much tomorrow morning. She sighed and sealed the breathing hole shut with her lips. Ah well. Still worth it.

21.12.11

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