Gromet's Plaza Latex Stories
Rubber Maid
by Jo
jzami@hotmail.com
© Copyright 2012 - Jo - Used by permission
Storycodes: F/f; D/s; latex; outfits; maid; bond; cuffs; gag; catsuit; strapon; insert; toys; mast; climax; cons; X
de fr nl it es jp
Rubber Maid Jo F/f; D/s; latex; outfits; maid; bond; cuffs; gag; catsuit; strapon; insert; toys; mast; climax; cons; X
 

"You don't know how many rooms! You've been cleaning there for three months."

"Only downstairs. I've only been into one room upstairs. Besides, like I said, it's more a companionship thing."

"Some lonely little old lady?"

"No. I don't know her age, but I'm guessing a year or two younger than us."

"So what's the deal? You're being very coy, you know."

"Listen, just go with it. You already promised to do it."

"That was before you started getting evasive."

"Laura I really appreciate this. Jerry's taking me to Key West and I think he's gonna pop the question."

"Lucky Jerry."

"Gee. Where's that sarcasm emoticon when I need it. Oh by the way, wear something nice, a skirt and blouse, something like that."

"I have to dress up to clean a friggin' house? Who am I, June Cleaver?"

"She'll have something for you to wear. Gotta run. Bye."

I pulled into the drive about an hour later. The house is in an older, but better part of town. Though few of the houses were private residences. Some were apartments, some businesses. I saw a lot of signs for law firms.

It was a big, old, brick of a thing and, according to Deb the woman, Elianna, lived there, alone. I pulled around back as Deb instructed, parked the car, walked up onto the back porch.

The woman that answered my knock was striking - in a wholly artificial way. She was so perfect she almost looked like a doll.

"Hi. I'm Laura, Debra's friend."

"Yes."

She responded, but she didn't move. The moment grew awkward. I stood on the porch, she just inside the doorway. But then she took a step back, gestured me forward.

She closed the door and led me through the kitchen to a front room, obviously her office. She sat behind the desk, I took the guest chair.

"Has Debra explained the situation."

"No. Not really. She said you need some light housekeeping and would like some, er, companionship."

"Companionship. Yes, that's an appropriate word. Did she tell you about her experiences here?"

"No. No, not really. Actually not at all."

"Hm. Are you familiar with latex?"

"Scuse me? I mean, yeah, I guess. But no, not really. I know what it is and I use latex gloves doing odd jobs around the house, but..."

"Hm. Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

I nodded, trying to figure out just what the hell that meant.

"First, this is my home and I am its mistress and you will call me Mistress or Mistress Elianna. Do you understand?"

"Sure."

She cocked an eyebrow, which kind of startled me because her face looked like the perfect mask.

"I mean yes, yes, Mistress."

"Fine. There are clothes for you to wear in the right, rear, upstairs bedroom. There is a clothes caddy. Please use it. And only wear what I've supplied. That means no jewelry either. Oh, and there is some lotion on the night stand. I suggest you use it."

"Yes, Mistress."

I took me a second to realize I'd been excused. I left the room and headed up the stairs.

Mistress was a piece of work, I had to admit that. Her face was flawless, not a crease or even a hint of a wrinkle. Her skin was pale, but had a slight peachish blush. She didn't spare the eyeliner or mascara and her lips were full and bright red. Her hair, a color of blonde not found in nature, hung in soft curls down to her shoulders.

She wore a white blouse. Shiny. Satin, maybe? She had a black skirt, black hose, and black heels, high heels, really high heels.

She also had either a very wide belt or a waist cincher that emphasized her ample curves.

I felt like a frump in my nicest skirt and blouse.

All the doors on the upper floor were closed save one. I stepped into the room and stopped. There, laid out neatly on the bed, were my work clothes. It took a moment to realize it was a French maid outfit. Took me another to realize it was made entirely of rubber, black and white latex. And then in the third instant I realize Elianna's outfit wasn't cloth at all, but rubber.

I found myself exploring each item. There was your standard, frilly maid's outfit, complete with a lacey, white rubber headband. There were rubber opera gloves, rubber underpants, a rubber garter belt, and rubber, what?, stocking? leggings? hose? Rubber hose. I stifled a giggle.

I closed the door and got undressed. Okay, the full-body latex thing was a bit weird, but what the hell. Besides, the money was good. Everything looked a size too small, but, being rubber, it stretched. And, yes, I needed lotion for the stockings and gloves. And it took a lot of tugging and smoothing, but soon my arms and legs were encased in a smooth layer of shiny, black rubber. I pulled on the panties and garter belt. The dress was loose and easily dropped over my head. It had a faux apron with ties in the back. They drew the rubber snug against my bare breasts. My nipples hardened. The material was so thin in could see them plainly and I felt a twinge of embarrassment. Lastly came the head band.

In the mirror I looked like your typical caricature of a sexy maid. I couldn't even tell it was rubber from the reflection. But I could feel it. Boy! could I feel it. The only things not covered in rubber were a couple of inches of thigh and a bit of cleavage, well, quite a bit of cleavage.

There were four pairs of shoes by the door, identical spike heels in black. The only difference being size. I found a pair that fit, sort of, and stepped into them. Whoa! They weren't the extreme heels Elianna was wearing, but they'd take a bit of getting used to.

I took the stairs very, very slowly. She was seated in the spare chair by the window. She had a mug in her hand. I could smell the coffee ... and something else. Bourbon? Yeah, coffee with bourbon. Breakfast of champions my dad used to say.

She looked up, I stopped, she made a little twirling motion, I turned.

"Very nice. Yes. It suits you. Very nice."

I didn't know if she expected an answer, but I said, "Thank you, Mistress."

The next thing I know I'm cuffed. She had held out her hand and, instinctively, I proffered mine. She wrapped the leather around my wrist and buckled it and I never saw the lock until it was fastened to the cuff. And like a dodo, I offered my other wrist without giving it a second's thought. She used the second lock to connect the cuffs.

Now, the gag I saw coming. She gestured me forward, but I didn't move.

"Maids should be seen and not heard. Come on. Open."

I leaned forward a bit, but just a bit. She had to half rise to reach me.

"Open."

I opened.

It was your basic ball gag in basic red. The ball filled my mouth, but not so much as to strain my jaw. Still it was, pardon the pun, a stretch.

"There."

She gave me an appraising look.

"You'll start in here. There is a duster behind that door."

I tottered over to the door and retrieved the tool.

I spent the next several minutes dusting, moving carefully. There were many knickknacks, expensive looking knickknacks. That and the shoes were awkward and having my wrists cuffed only complicated things. She sipped her coffee, dividing her attention to what was outside the window and gazing at me.

"That will do. Come along."

I returned the duster and followed her out of the room and down the hall. Her heels making a crisp tack tack tack sound. Mine going kind of tack, skid, tack.

"Fix me a drink. Bourbon on the rocks. Glasses are there, the bourbon is in that cabinet, ice where you'd expect it."

I made the drink and she settled at the table.

"Do the dishes, wipe the counters, and damp mop the floor."

I nodded.

The dishes didn't need doing. The service for four was neatly arranged by the sink, complete with silverware and glasses. But I washed them. Again the awkwardness of being cuffed forced me to work slowly. Which, it finally dawned on me, was the point. This was obviously the 'companionship' part. Rubber maid does chores while mistress supervises. Well, whatever floats your boat.

I dried the twice-clean dishes and put them away. I wiped the counters, put a fresh pad on the mop, and chased it around the room. She held out the glass for a refill and I made the drink

"Come along," she repeated.

I followed her upstairs. She set her glass on the night stand. From a dresser draw she withdrew two items. From the nightstand she retrieved a third. The first two I didn't recognize, but the third I did. It was a dildo, a strap-on with two shafts. But as I looked at it, it didn't look right. The straps were wrong. Not that I'm an expert in these things. Call it a hunch.

Another hunch about the first item. It looked like a large square of rubber. A sheet? Too small. A cape?

She shook out, what turned out to be, a rubber cat suit. She unlocked and removed the cuffs, untied the bow behind my back, and tugged the dress over my head. I was too agitated to be embarrassed. Things were getting out of hand.

First the rubber clothes, then the cuffs and gag, now more rubber and a dildo? Sorry, Elianna, I don't do girls and I certainly don't want a girl doing me. But it was happening. Her confidence, her demeanor made it seem not only oh so natural, but inevitable.

She pulled off the garter belt, but left the leggings. She slathered lotion on my legs and rubber panties, studiously avoiding my crotch, but copping a good feel of my butt. Then she helped me into the garment. the oil helped, but it was still slow going.

She oiled my back, belly, and, yes, boobs before doing my arms. There were no fingers like the gloves, just sealed ends of sleeve. She help up the hood, I ducked my head into it, and my world went black.

Okay. This kind of creeped me out. I'm a bit claustrophobic and having my head encased was really, really getting to me. The hood had only one opening, one for the mouth. I tried to take slow, calm breaths.

She zipped up the back and everything got snug: rubber on rubber, rubber on skin. And she replaced the maid dress - rubber on rubber on rubber.

And then she kissed me. I was startled, but she held my head and put her mouth on mine and though there was no tongue, the message was clear. It would have been almost chaste if it hadn't lasted so long.

I couldn't see what was happening, but it was pretty obvious. She fastened the cuffs back on my wrists. She added a set to my ankles. And then came the dildo.

My hunch was confirmed when she pressed the thick, stubby shaft into my mouth. The hood was so tight that I could barely open my mouth enough. And the straps, much too short and complex for a regular strap-on, turned into a head-clenching harness. I started to panic until I realized I could breathe by sucking on the thing.

She led me to the bed, laid me on my back, stretched out my arms and legs, and tied the cuffs to the four bedposts.

And then, for a long, long time, there was nothing. It was obvious what was about to happen. But when it did, it wasn't what I expected.

I felt the bed shift. Sensed her between my feet before I felt her hands on my legs. Hands that moved slowly, gently, touching every inch of me. I expected her to caress me between my legs, but she didn't. She lowered herself onto me, dragged her breasts over me. Even under layers of rubber, I knew she was naked.

She worked her way up my body, lay on me fully, ran her hands up my arms, grabbed my wrists as if it was she who was holding me down. She ground her hips against mine.

Okay, about that no girl-girl stuff. With a couple of layers of rubber separating us it wasn't half bad.

She turned and straddled my chest. She worked her feet under my arms then scooched back until she was straddling my face and I felt the pressure as the shaft entered her, felt her ass cover my face. Surprisingly I could still breath fairly well. How? Haven't a clue.

She settled down on top of me, wrapped her hands under me, grabbed my ass. She lay her cheek on my mound, a millimeter of rubber separating her lips from mine. She began to work her hips.

I don't know whether she came or not. The rhythm never really changed. And when she released me I saw that she had been using me as a human sex toy for well over an hour.

I had to wait a while after she had climbed off. The reason obvious when the first thing I saw was her perfect face and hair, same as before, same clothes.

"You can use the hall shower if you like."

I would have liked, but I'd rather have gotten out of there. The whole scene had made me a bit crazy.

She was at her desk, drink by her side.

"There's an envelope for you on the table. And I'd like to see you again tomorrow if it's convenient. Same time."

I whispered, "Yes, Mistress."

Back home I stripped off, decided not to shower. I kind of liked the scent of the lotion. I went around the room closing curtains, dug my favorite vibe from the drawer, swapped in fresh batteries. I set it on the nightstand next to the sleep mask.

I hadn't been totally honest with Elianna, I thought as I rummaged through my underwear drawer, trying to decide which pair of panties to wear - the sheer, thin rubber ones or the thick, black rubber ones. I'd to pass on the third pair, the ones with the two dildos in the crotch.

I decided on the sheers. They're so thin and stretchy and they grab my pussy in the nicest way. I tugged them on, squirmed around a bit as I went, got them settled nice and snug, like a delicate, but firm hand. I climbed under the covers, pulled on the mask, turned on the vibe, dialed it in, slipped it between my legs.

I'd go back tomorrow, maybe let her seduce me into something more girl-girl, maybe get to have a bit of fun on my own. I have to admit it was quite a leap going from my secret little stash of rubber panties to a full-blown rubber fetish. But it was a leap I was more than willing to take again!

 

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02.12.12

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